#i need to do something with her again. i guess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azzifuddfanpage · 2 days ago

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waves crashing

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title creds @ldapper

Amazing prompt by 🥖anon here! 6.6k words

tw: smut

themes: dating/ angst/ fluff/ smut

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Day before graduation

———

p💗: hiiii Azzi

Az💗: hi baby

P💗: watcha doin?

Wishin I was wit u rn fr

I know it’s only been a few days but feels like forever

Az 💗: I know baby I miss u so much too

How did we ever do long distance??

P💗: I’m never letting u go home by urself again

Az💗: I know P I’m sorry 😞

I’ll see u Tom for graduation tho!

P💗: ayyyy and then cruise

Can’t wait to have my girl alone ifykwim

Az💗: fuck I was gonna tell you something but I forgot now cuz miss u so bad istg im already wet

P💗: not surprised 🤷‍♀️

(I need you so bad)

A💗: check snap then 😉

P💗: AZZI ICE IS NEXT TO ME

Had to save it so I could look at it privately

Az💗: oh ya? What r u going to be doing when u look at it “privately” 😼

P💗: finna touch myself too it that’s for sure

Need to see u in that new set in person

Bring it to the cruise baby…

Az💗: woah what r u gonna do if I don’t 😩

P💗: oh you don’t wanna do that trust

be a good girl and listen

Az💗: alright mommy

P💗: BEUH

Az💗 I’m sorry u were asking for it with the “good girl”

P💗: don’t act like u didn’t like it

Az💗: 🤭

P💗: I miss u so bad

Wish I was in u were in my bed rn

Az💗: same

P💗: btw ur mom sent me photos of u today

Why she my literal plug 😭

Az 💗: BRO GET OUT

Did she violate me

P💗: that is actually impossible I fear

Ur too cute

Az💗: ur cute

P 💗: gonna be a lot cuter when ur in that tight bikini on the cruise

Az💗: I don’t know how tight it will be if my literary family will be present 😭

P💗: fine guess I’ll just have to take advantage of my time in the room

Az💗: PAIGE!

P💗: ptpom? And cuddle?

Az💗: I’m just gonna ignore that first one

(If ur good)

P💗: alright now who’s the good girl

Az💗: I guess we will have to wait and see

Omg I didn’t realize how late u kept me up

I’m going to bed

P💗: alright big head I’m so proud of u for graduating in 3

My academic weapon 💗

Good night baby I love you

Az💗: same baby

Can’t believe u managed to actually graduate on time when ur illiterate

I love you too P

good night

P💗: lowkey love you a little less after that

Az💗: 😐

P💗: kidding 💗💗💗💗

———

“Azzi you coming?” Aliyah’s voice echoed through the dorm.

“Ya one second, I just feel like I’m forgetting something.” Azzi replied, scanning the room before adjusting her little black dress and fluffing her hair in the mirror.

It was only a few hours after graduation, and Azzi was going out to a grad party with Aliyah and some of the other girls in her communications class.

Azzi had just gotten into the car when all of a sudden her phone chimed.

——

While Azzi was getting ready for the party, Paige had completely set up her dorm room in candles and Azzi’s favorite flowers to celebrate their graduation and especially Azzi graduating in 3.

Paige was amazed by her girlfriend every day, but this was just a whole new level of adoration.

Paige had finally finished setting up, after going right home after graduation.

She had just assumed her and Azzi would have hung out afterward, she didn’t really feel the need to confirm.

But when Azzi didn’t show up after 30 minutes of waiting, she started to get a little confused.

She knew that Aliyah was going to a party with some of the other graduates, but parties had never really been Azzi’s thing, and Paige had assumed that Azzi would have told her if she was going.

——

Back in the car, Azzi checks her phone.

—2 missed calls from p 💗 and 2 texts—

P💗: wya 😼

U on ur way?

Az💗: I didn’t realize we had plans?

I was going with Aliyah to that grad party

P💗: wow alr

Az💗: p?

I’m sorry? Like I didn’t realize u wanted to do something

P💗: it’s fine whatever

I just don’t get why u were all talking about how much u missed me last night and are surprised when I’m upset u didn’t come over.

Like I thot it was mutual but ig not

Az💗: ofc I want to see u, I can come over later!

I’m sorry baby I thought I told you that I was going to the party, I knew I was forgetting something yesterday fuck.

P💗: it’s whatever don’t come over come over idrc

Have fun

Az💗: p come on wtf? It’s not that big of a deal, I just forgot to tell u

I still wanna see u

I miss u

P💗: clearly not enough

Bye Azzi

I’ll talk to u later

Az: paige come on don’t do this

It was a mistake

Why do u have to stress me out like this I wanna see u

Seriously this is stupid

—— read by P💗 ——

Az💗: really paige?

I get that I made a mistake but it’s not like we had actual plans like come on

P💗: fuck az I said idc

Az 💗: why r u being like this

Like why r u tryna make me feel guilty

I said I’m sorry

P💗: im not even doing nothing 😂😂??

Just have fun

Az💗: paige u KNOW damn well ur making me upset

Like how am I gonna have fucking fun with u mad at me

P💗: I don’t wanna fight with u

I alr said I don’t care

Stop being dramatic and let it go

Az 💗: p ur being mean and unfair right now

P💗: I’m going to bed, take it how ever u want but stop texting me so I can sleep.

Az💗: alright paige I’m sorry

I never meant to hurt u

I can’t come over later? I love you.

P💗: nah I’m all set Azzi.

—— read by Azzi——

Azzi felt her heart sink as she shut off her phone. How was she supposed to celebrate when all she could think of was paige.

————

When Azzi woke up, she felt hollow.

She turned to her side feeling the emptiness of the bed where the blonde lump usually laid.

The bed felt cold without her in it.

Azzi’s head was pounding as she reached for her phone, rereading the entire conversation searching for where it went wrong.

She read it three times before sitting up and setting it on her side table.

She had really thought Paige would have texted her before she woke up. Apologizing for overreacting but she was really mad clearly.

At first Azzi felt horrible.

The guilt was strong in her mind. She threw on a pair of Paige’s sweat pants and one of her team USA t-shirts and decided to go for a run to clear her mind.

As the morning stretched to afternoon, Azzi felt her guilt turn to anger.

She was pissed at Paige for not only ruining her graduation night, but for not even caring enough to text her the next day. And she had the audacity to get mad at her for “not caring.”

By 3:00 Azzi was getting stressed. She had showered, even finished one of the books she was reading, but the suitcases by her door lay waiting for her in question.

Azzi and Paige had to leave for their cruise by 4:30 to get there by 8 yet still no text.

Were they even going at this point?

By 4, Azzi was just about to text Paige when she heard her phone buzz.

———

P💗: I’m leaving in 15 to pick u up

—— read by Az💗 ——

P💗: baby?

Is that ok?

Az💗: yup see u then 👍

P💗: bruh

Az💗: don’t call me bruh paige

P💗: why r u dragging this out?

Az💗: u can’t be serious rn?

U haven’t texted me all day.

I have been sitting by my phone since literally ur last text waiting to see if u would text me yet nothing

Like I made one fucking mistake and ur telling me im fucking dragging this out??

P💗: ur forgot we basically made plans i'm sorry i was upset

Az💗: i get that u were upset, but I apologized and wanted to come over

I didn’t even end up going to the stupid party and we both spent it alone cuz you were mad.

Like if u weren’t so damn stubborn this could have been prevented.

U were a different person I didn’t even recognize u

P💗: baby u know I love you come on

Stop with that

Az💗: ya I know P but u can’t just shut me out over something like that it’s not fair.

P💗: okay let’s just talk about it in the car bro

I’m leaving now

Az💗: istg paige if u call me bro one more time I will make u change rooms

P💗: nah no way u change rooms

Az💗: hah if u still think we are fucking ur gonna be really disappointed

P💗: ya we will see 😂

Az💗: I’m literally not even gonna sleep in the same bed as u at this point

Like have fun by urself, hopefully they have a couch or u will be on the floor.

P💗: whatever u say baby

———

Azzi watched as paige’s car pulled into the driveway.

——

P💗: here

Az💗: I’m coming asshole

P💗: damn really not giving up on this are u?

—— read by Az💗 ——

Azzi wobbled out to the car with her suitcase.

Paige watched, getting out of her car, opening the door for Azzi and taking her bag.

Azzi rolled her eyes at her but obliged, letting Paige put her bag in the trunk.

Paige felt a smirk curl onto her lips. She knew Azzi was upset but she couldn’t help herself but think about how good their makeup sex would be now that there was all this tension-not that Paige wanted any of this to happen, she hated when Azzi was upset.

When Paige finally joined Azzi in the car after cramming all the stuff in the car, she handed Azzi her unicorn neck pillow.

“Thanks” Azzi said shortly, tugging it around her neck and leaning to look out the window away from paige.

“Do you have the stuff for your knee?” Paige asked, going through a list she made on her phone of things Azzi can’t forget.

“What about your compression sleeve?” She continued.

“I have everything Paige we can just go.” Azzi sighed, shutting her eyes and rubbing her temples as if to say Paige was giving her a headache.

Paige smirked at the sight of her girlfriend, and her eyes made their way down to her bare thighs. She watches as Azzi lets her legs stretch out, her quads contracting and relaxing as she did.

Azzi could feel Paige's eyes on her.

“I'm not gonna talk to you Paige.” Azzi said even though her heart fluttered knowing Paige was looking at her.

“Fine by me.” Paige said pressing play on her music letting “Love Language” by Sza fill the silence of the car.

The two sat there not talking while Paige drove for the first hour. Azzi kept her eyes glued to the window, avoiding eye contact, as if the passing shapes were the interesting things in the world. Azzi refused to be the first to give in.

An hour later, Azzi lets herself glance over to Paige who was focused on the road.

Azzi felt herself relax at the sight of her girlfriends familiar features, the sharp angle of her jaw, the softness of her blonde hair, the way her eyes glistened under the light of the setting sun. Azzi could smell the tension on her, but she looked away before her glance could be considered staring.

Immediately after looking back towards her spot on the window, she regretted taking that glance as the ache between her legs, that had been unfulfilled since the few days her girlfriend had been absent, grew.

Ironically, Paige too was feeling the heat of the moment. Every glance she would steal at Azzi was filled with pure desire and need. All the anger from last night had converted into something more charged, and when Paige got worked up well…

After another 30 minutes of the car ride, Paige glanced over at Azzi who had fallen asleep, her mouth slightly open and her head tilted back.

Paige’s heart melted seeing her girlfriend in such an innocent vulnerable moment. Paige loved waking up to Azzi’s sleeping face, and not seeing her the past few days made this moment all that much more meaningful. Paige moves her hand over to brush one of Azzi's curls out of her face, letting the pureness of her beauty sink in.

With only an hour left in the car ride, Azzi wakes up a little disoriented, forgetting where she was. She looks around and her eyes immediately find Paige, bringing her complete comfort. She feels a pang of guilt at the idea that her girlfriend is probably tired too after driving the full way, but the guilt turns back to annoyance when she realizes she still hasn’t gotten an apology yet.

Not wanting to give in just yet, Azzi decides to send Paige a quick text.

Az💗: hi

Paige saw Azzi’s name pop up on her CarPlay, she glanced over to Azzi who was still looking out the window ignoring her.

When they pull up to the red light, Paige checks her phone.

P💗: hi

Az💗: i don’t forgive u

That’s why i'm texting you, so u can’t bring this up out loud but

I miss u

P💗: I miss u too baby

Az💗: really? I thot u were mad still

P💗: how could I possibly stay mad at such a pretty face

————

Azzi felt a blush reach her face at paige’s message

————

Az💗: well I’m not done being mad at u yet

But I’m pausing so I can text u

P💗: it’s okay baby u are holding up very well

U look very pretty right now too btw

Az💗: you look pretty too.

Like that shirt on u

P💗: what’s new 🤷‍♀️

Also I got u a grad gift

It’s a surprise tho

Az💗: stop im supposed to me mad at u rn

P💗: hah and yet ur wet instead

Az💗: enough

P💗: So do you forgive me?

Az💗: no

———

The light changed back to green and Azzi put her phone back in the side door.

Paige began cooking up a way to get Azzi to forgive her.

Without removing her eyes from the road, Paige reached next to her side and let her hand drape across the top of Azzi's lower thigh.

She smirked, feeling Azzi's weight shift underneath her, as she ran her fingers dangerously against the soft skin of her thigh.

Azzi felt herself grow needy, the warmth of Paige's fingers spreading to her insides.

Azzi could feel Paige's hand creep higher up her thigh, slowly inching closer to where she needed her most. Paige massaged her skin with her thumb in tight small circles on her inner thigh.

Azzi accidentally let a soft moan slip out as her hand inched closer to her heat.

Realizing she had allowed herself to enjoy this a little too much, she pushed Paige's hand away, stopping it as her hand hovered over the throbbing pressure between her legs.

“Paige.” Azzi warned, as Paige threw her head back against the seat in frustration.

Paige flicked her eyes away from the road to look at her girlfriend.

“Az” paige said, letting her face soften upon looking at the way Azzi’s curious eyes wandered and searched her face for an answer.

“Look.” Paige started. “I am sorry Azzi, i shouldn't have treated you like that yesterday, i wasn't fair.” Paige confessed at a mumble, part of herself not liking the idea of admitting she was wrong.

Azzi sighed, “It's okay baby, I just hate it when you're upset with me.” Azzi softly stated, reaching her hand out and squeezing the blondes gently.

“You didn't do anything wrong Azzi, I just wanted to see you after graduation , and I guess I got a little too wrapped up in the idea that you were coming over and I took it out on you when I found out you had other plans.” Paige admitted. “Also I might have been a little embarrassed cuz I may or may not have lit a couple of candles for you.” Paige sighed, her face blushing.

Azzi, turned her body so she was facing her more directly, “Aw baby youre so cute. But just to be clear i didn't even go to the party, i went home cuz i was so stressed out about you.” Paige felt the guilt rush over her as Azzi admitted that to her.

Paige’s head hung, “I'm sorry you had to leave, I am, honestly, but I just don't get why you didn't want to celebrate with me.”

“Paige, are you serious right now? I literally wanted to come over, and if you had asked you could have come, and i would have said yes in an instant. If you had just sent me a message, instead of trying to guilt trip me, and make me feel bad, I would have been to your house in seconds." Azzi said, reaching up and brushing a strand of blonde hair away from Paige's face, framing her eyes.

“I know azzi, i was acting crazy, i knew you would have come to be with me, i guess it was just the fact that i wasn't the first person you wanted to be with, i dont know it's stupid.” Paige tried to brush off the embarrassment as she said that, her eyes staying focused on the road. Azzi feels her heart melt at the sight of her blonde girlfriend being so vulnerable and open in front of her.

“I am so sorry baby, I just thought it would make sense for me to hang out with the girls from my class since this is probably the last time i'm gonna see them, you know? Like I assumed I would be seeing you later that night. I just feel like you took it a little too far like it was a little toxic idk." Azzi said, watching Paige's face react to it.

Paige felt a little taken aback by Azzi’s comment.

“Az, you know i love you, and you don't even know how sorry i am, i'll never do it again i promise.” Paige said, turning a little to look at her.

Paige moved her hand to caress Azzi’s curls, her finger brushing against Azzi's neck, sending shivers down her spine that was enough to make her want to unbuckle, climb onto Paige's lap, and take her right there. But somehow she managed to maintain herself, and simply said, “better not.”

They spent what was left of the car ride with their hands all over each other. Azzi remained a bit more to herself, but when paige placed her hand on her lap, she moved her hand and let them linger over paige’s, tracing her initials onto her palm.

When they pulled up to the dock, Paige shifted in her seat to turn to the younger girl, her hand still on Azzi's thigh.

“Your family is gonna be here soon?” She asked moving her hand up to sweep the curls back behind Azzi's ear.

Azzi blushes as she pulls out her home to check.

“Ya, they said to just go on without them and they would meet us for dinner, they are running a little late apparently Jon forgot his suitcase.” Paige giggled at the reminder of her family dynamic, the one she had always felt so welcomed to.

“Alright pretty, you stay here, k?” Azzi nodded in response, watching as Paige left and went to the trunk to grab their bags, and lug them over to the boat's entrance. She went back and opened Azzi’s door, but as she walked, Azzi couldn't help herself but gawk at the way Paige's sweatpants and how low they hung on her hips, the veins in her hands, and the way her long nimble finger wrapped around the bag she was holding.

Azzi gulped when Paige opened the door.. Fuck she was horny.

Paige’s hand rested on the small of her back as she led her towards the entrance of the cruise ship, azzi paused, turning to look Paige in the eyes.

“Thank you for bringing our bags in and driving, I appreciate it. But.” Azzi looks away as the last word comes out, Paige eyes her cautiously, “but what azzi?”

“I am still a little annoyed with you though, just warning you.” azzi said, which surprised her as Paige's tense body relaxed.

Paige turns her and lets her hand pull azzi in closer to her side as they stand in the line to board. Her hand slides down and wraps around the front of her, resting just below Azzi's belly button piercing, the other one moving down to squeeze her ass.

Azzi blushed, swatting at her hand, but her actions juxtaposed it, leaning back into page letting her warmth absorb her.

“I feel like you won't be saying that later.” Azzi feels her breath hitch as Paige's voice is sharp in her ear.

“Yeah?” Azzi gulps, her hand reaching back and coming in contact with the exposed skin between Paige's pants and her crop top.

“How long do you really think you will hold out Azzi?” Paige questioned dominantly.

Azzi chose to leave the question unanswered as she created some distance between them when walking in.

When they reached the check in desk, Azzi could feel Paige's hands wander over her body. Azzi, who obviously was much more organized than Paige, checked in, providing the receptionist with the details of their trip, and the other people in their party that would be arriving later. Azzi tried to keep herself focused, but Paige was making it pretty difficult, her fingers tracing over her back, her eyes burning into the side of her head as she conversed with the lady who was checking them in.

When the lady turned around to get them their room keys, Azzi turned to look at Paige, who was already staring at her puffy lips, licking her own and smirking at her. Azzi’s heart rate sped up, and she knew she would have to get her back for pulling this little stunt on her.

Azzi leads them to their room, and Azzi forces Paige to carry both of their bags so she would keep her hands away from Azzi’s body. As the two of them open the door to the room Azzi begins to take herself at home, unpacking her clothes, while Paige on the other hand starts walking around the room, looking in the shower, at the beds, and even on the balcony.

Azzi gives her a look as if to say “What are you doing.” and paige knowingly responds “sorry im just looking to see all the places i could fuck you in.” Paige smirked, walking up behind Azzi and trailing her fingers along Azzi’s arm. Azzi rolled her eyes and Paige whispered in her ear,

“Common Azzi, i said i was sorry, didn't know it would be a crime for me to wanna celebrate graduating with my girlfriend.” Azzi is silent, taking it in as Paige's hands trail down her arms and clutch her hands swinging them slightly.

“Just wanna have a nice time on this cruise with my girl.” She continues smiling at their reflection in the mirror in front of them and licking her lips as she moves her head to lean on Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi studies her face and neck, she can tell she wants her bad, and Paige is not even trying to hide it.

Azzi on the other hand, although better at hiding it, needed her just as badly.

Paige tilted her head so her lips brushed against Azzi's neck, traveling upward and pressing an open mouth kiss on her dimple. Azzi’s hand found its way to Paige's shoulder, as her heart fluttered.

Paige knew she had her in a choke hold and kept going, “didn't mean to treat you like that baby, i just wanna be near you all the time, i can't help it.”she whispered against her ear, letting her lips brush against it.

Azzi walks back a few steps towards the bed, before she goes to sit down. Paige follows her like a lost puppy, seductively pulling Azzi’s legs apart so she can stand between them.

Azzi looks up at her with wide eyes full of desire as she puts her own arms on either side of her hips on the bed. Azzi leaned her head back making eye contact with Paige, staring at her with needy hooded eyes. As azzi leans back, her jaw clenches, showing off the sharpness of her jawline. Immediately,the wetness between Paige's legs becomes overwhelming, and Paige is unbelievably aware of the switch azzi has just made.

“Ima make it up to you baby, do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”Azzi doesn't respond, but Azzi keeps her eyes on Paige. Looking up at her with her head tilted as if to say, “yeah?” biting her lip and looking down at herself all spread out for paige.

“I'm gonna get you so right baby? Paige says as she leans down tracing her finger along Azzi’s thick muscular thighs. She licks her lips, smirking down at her girlfriend. “Just forgive me baby.” she whispers, watching as Azzi adjusts herself so she is propped up on her elbows with her body more accessible. She moves one of her hands to slightly fist at the hem of her shirt with an overtly innocent look plastered on her face. She felt like Paige had had enough of her teasing.

“I don't know paigey, you made me really upset you know.” she said, dragging out the last letter so her tongue would trace her lips slowly, still looking up pouty.

Paige moved her hand to the soft skin of Azzi's neck, stroking it gently. She brings her other free hand to tilt Azzi's jaw up, her thumb on her puffy bottom lip.

Paige leans forward, “I'm so sorry princess, I love you baby lemme do you right please.” she whispers into her ear, flicking her eyes to watch azzi-who thought she couldn't be seen- as she bites her lip letting her eyes roll back into her head.

Paige raises back to her full height, peering over azzi with a knowing smirk as she pouts up at her, both of them fighting intense aches in their cores.

“You want me so bad? My sweet girl, so innocent huh? Paige says tugging at azzi’s plump bottom lip.

Azzi nods innocently, smiling.“Keep going.” she whispers.

Paige knows exactly how to rile her up.

“Such a beautiful girl, mmm drives me crazy,” Paige groans as Azzi takes off her hoodie, her eyes focused on Paige's, going back to her position to let Paige continue.

“Mhm, that's it baby, such a good girl for me huh?” she says as Azzi stands up to slide off her pants, taking her time turning around so Paige can take it all in.

By the time she is sitting back at the edge of the bed, Paige's mouth feels dry, and her pussy feels wet.

“My smart girl. graduated in 3 years didn't you?”Azzi nods and puts up her foot to make Paige slide her socks off for her.

“Whatever you want princess.” She smirks as she leans forward and delicately pills them off.

Paige can feel the sweat slide down her back as the tension builds between them.

“So fucking perfect, just wanna fuck you all the time.” Azzi's expression contorts into a teasing “really?”. And Paige doubles down “can't even control myself.” she says as her hands hover over the brunette's body.

Paige lifts her leg to peel off her other sock, highlighting the swell of her ass.

“Mmm that fat ass too.” Paige groans as she feels herself get wet. Her head is spinning, and Azzi, who is now only in a t-shirt and panties can tell.

Azzi lifts one arm and slides it behind Paige's neck to pull her in towards her lips, letting them brush against her ear, “ok baby, i forgive you.”

A smirk spreads onto Paige's face as azzi continues, “Wanna take this off me baby?” she asks with need dripping from her core.

“Fuck az.” Paige groans, licking her lips eagerly as she leans forward to gently pull the shirt over her girlfriends head.

Azzi leans back slightly now that she is fully exposed, her lingerie in full view, she separates her legs smirking.

Paige’s jaw drops in disbelief as her parted thighs revealing a new pair of lingerie.

“What happened to me sleeping on the couch huh?” Paige questioned as she studied the brand new red set that displayed Azzi's perky breasts, her toned stomach, and her piercing that shimmered under the light.

Considering that they had just had an argument, and only had just made up everything clicked when she saw Azzi's state all laid out for her.

Paige tips her head backward to stare at the ceiling shaking her head while rubbing her jaw and letting out a groan that makes azzi giggle.

Azzi, still staring up at her girlfriend, waiting for her to make a move, holds both of her hands now as they make eye contact,

“Wow so you just been tryna rile me up all day huh? You're such a freak Azzi Fudd.” Paige tuts with a smirk.

“Paigeee” azzi whines, “what are you talking about sweetie?” she replies innocently, tugging at her shirt, pouting.

“You dont wanna touch me baby?” she asks and Paige can barely believe it's a real thought in her head.

Paige leans her head down to Azzi's ear, her hand resting lightly on the back of Paige's head whispering, “enough baby, you know imma touch you.” Paige says, her lips attaching to the soft spot under her ear. “But you gotta promise you're gonna be a good girl for me though ok? Can you do that Azzi?”

“What if I don't wanna.” Azzi admits watching as Paige shakes her head in disbelief.

“I think you're gonna wanna be good. Cuz you know im gonna fuck you so good.” paige says, watching as Azzi’s eyes scan down her body.

Azzi’s hands travel up under her shirt, rubbing up and down on her bare stomach.

She lets out a breathy moan, “Paigey?” she starts.

Paige looks down at her, shuddering under her touch.

Azzi continues to caress her lower stomach and whispers, “I promise I'll be a really good girl for you Paige,” batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Yeah? didn't take much convincing huh? Need me that bad princess? Want me to fuck you good?”

Azzi nods, standing up and wrapping arms around Paige's neck, hand gripping the back of her head pulling her into a kiss. Their lips connect with an absolute fire, the tension from the past day spilling out between their lips. Azzi licks at Paige's bottom lip, and Paige sucks in her tongue as her hands travel down to rub her ass.

“Missed you bad.” azzi says when they finally pulled away, lips puffy and swollen, eyes hooded with desire.

The blonde smiles and connects their lips again, the passion overflowing as Paige bites and pulls on her bottom lip.

Paige’s lips travel down, leaving small open mouthed kisses from her jawline, and traveling down to her neck.

She licks a long stripe down Azzi's stomach, outlining her abs before stopping at the band of her panties.

Paige hooks her finger into them, letting them fall to the floor.

Azzi looks down to watch the way Paige looks at pussy like she has been starved for years. Paige gets on her knees, so she is the one staring upwards a t her beautiful girlfriend in front of her.

She separates Azzi’s legs gently and reaches her finger up to spread apart her tan folds, exposing the soft pink of her clit.

“Prettiest pussy in the world”, she shakes her head, continuing, “she belongs to me.” Paige says to her pussy as Azzi smirks, “all yours. Now pls touch me, I need you so bad." Azzi whines pushing at Paige's head.

Paige wraps her arms around the back of Azzi's thighs to stabilize herself, as she presses her tongue against Azzi's pussy, running it through her folds and picking up her slick. Azzi moans against the contact, pushing herself farther against her.

Paige’s hands travel up to cup Azzi's ass, squeezing and listening to Azzi let out a soft moan. Paige’s tongue digs deeper against her, finding her clit and swiping against it.

Her tongue flicks back and forth, and Paige transitions between the flicks, small tight circles, and sucking at it, releasing it with a pop.

Azzi moans loudly, her hand tangling in Paige's hair as she pushes her girlfriend closer so her face is suffocated by her cunt.

Paige goes down like she hasn't eaten in months, licking at her, sucking at her, even running her teeth gently against her.

“Love the way you taste baby.” Paige says pulling away gently to catch her breath and shove Azzi onto the bed.

Azzi moans as Paige climbs on top of her and flattens her tongue against her clit, lapping at it gently. She moves her head down, licking from her clit down to her entrance.

Azzi can feel her pussy clench as Paige runs over her entrance teasingly with her tongue.

“Please fuck-want you inside of me” Azzi says desperately and paige just smirks against her pussy.

“What's the magic word,” Paige teases, her finger running through Azzi's slick. Azzi doesn't even have the chance to answer, as she pushes Paige's tongue into her.

Paige lets it slide, and fucks her with her tongue, letting it plunge in and out of her. Azzi moans loudly as her tongue squelches against her walls, the feeling of the warmth was too much for her, and after only a few minutes of Paige's pounding into her, she is a pile of moans.

“Fuck im close Paige.” she moans.

Paige pulls her tongue out of her and flips them over so Azzi is sitting on her stomach.

Paige wraps her hands around Azzi's ass and scotts her up so her pussy is now hovering over her face.

“Sit,” Paige says dominantly. And Azzi looks a little self conscious at first, not wanting to completely crush her, but eventually the desire between her legs is too deep, and Paige's strong arms pull her down so she is now riding her tongue.

Azzi moans loudly at the new angle, feeling Paige's tongue hit against her g spot as she fucked it into her. Azzi was grinding down on her, feeling Paige's nose brush against her clit.

She moaned,her walls beginning to tighten and her pussy sucked up Paige's tongue as it bobbed in and out of her.

“Gonna cum Paige.” she moaned her hands coming around on either side of her, her tits dangling in Paige’s face as she continued to fuck her through her orgasim.

Soon enough Azzi’s white syrup was pouring out of her and paige was drinking up every last drop, fucking her through it.

Azzi flopped off of her face so she was laying next to her.

They lay there for a moment catching their breath.

“You ready?” Azzi asks eagerly, laughing as she notices the cum on her nose, leaning forward and licking it off.

“For what princess?” she asked, but Azzi was already straddling her and sliding off her pants.

“My turn to show my remorse.” Azzi smirked as Paige let out a breathy moan as the cool air hit her wet cunt.

“All this from eating me out? You really are whipped.”

Azzi wiggled herself down, situating herself so she was between her legs, aligning herself with Paige's core.

She starts to place gentle kisses on Paige's inner thighs, feeling the heat radiating off of her.

She placed a kiss on her pussy, before spreading it open with her fingers and licking a long strip through her. She lapped at her clit in soft kitten licks, taking in the taste of her arousal.

Paige moaned, running her fingers over the back of Azzi's neck, tangling them in her hair.

Azzi ran her finger through her wetness, letting it get completely soaked, before she fucked it into her listening as paige moaned at the contact.

Azzi continued fucking the one finger into her, her tongue flicking against her clit.

Paige moaned, desperate for more contact.

“Please more. Need more princess. You're so good to me.” Paige praised, as she pushed Azzi's mouth against her clit with more force, so she was now sucking on it.

With Paige’s words, Azzi added two more fingers, fucking them in and out of her at a fast rhythm while Paige shoved her face into her cunt.

“Fuckkk.” she moaned, throwing her head back as she felt her walls start to suction around Azzi's fingers.

Azzi pressed down her other hand on Paige's lower stomach, causing her walls to release, and her orgasim to spill over her with a loud moan, her cum spilling out onto Azzi's fingers.

Azzi fucked her through it, not stopping until Paige was squirming underneath her.

“Who's the good girl now?” Azzi asked smartly, as she ran her fingers through Paige's sensitive clit.

Paige, who was still tired from just having Azzi’s fingers pound in and out of her, was not willing to give up that easily, she moved Azzi's fingers away from her clit towards Azzi's mouth. “Still you.” she said as she shoved them into Azzi’s mouth, melting a little as Azzi held eye contact with her and sucked Paige's juices off of them.

—----

An hour or 2 later, after the girls had finished unpacking, and getting ready for dinner, they met Azzi’s family down by one of the cruise restaurants.

“You look so beautiful tonight.” Paige said as they walked down the stairs towards the door.

“You do too, baby.” Azzi smiled, and Paige poked her dimple lovingly.

Making their way over, they finally spotted Azzi's family in the distance. They all exchanged hugs, and stories before finally making their way into the restaurant.

“Mrs. Fudd.” Paige said, pulling out Azzi's chair for her.

“Thank you Mrs. Bueckers.” she mocked as she sat down.

The night was filled with laughter and stories of Azzi's childhood, the team next year, classes, and just day to day anecdotes.

Paige couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else than with this family, at this table.

Paigee loved every part of Azzi, from her family, to her, to the way she would refuse to let either of them bring their phones when they snuck away to one of the islands, or when she would force Paige to watch Frozen with them in the room before they went to sleep the second night.

Paige knew Azzi was the one for her, from the minute she saw her, and no fight they could ever have would ever change that.

#pazzi #azzi and paige #azzi x paige #paige and azzi #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fluff #paige x azzi #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #paige bueckers smut

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natsaffection · 2 days ago

Text

Auge um Auge pt. 4 | N.R

Investigator!older!Natasha x Robber!younger! reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), gun, angst, oral (r receiving) fingering (r receiving), dirty talking, kinda obsessed Natasha?

Word count: 6,4k

A/n: I was so carried away, I actually wanted to stay overall cute and softness, but well….🙅🏻‍♀️

The light in the tent flickered slightly as Maria sat at her desk, her brow furrowed as she stared at the screen in front of her. The data she was reviewing just didn’t make sense. She opened a new file, checked it again, and bit her bottom lip unconsciously. She stood, grabbed the printed documents, and made her way to Natasha, who was in the middle of discussing a protocol with another investigator. Maria lingered at the edge of the conversation, waiting for Natasha to finish before clearing her throat to get her attention.

“Nat.” Maria said quietly, though her voice carried a serious undertone. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Natasha looked up, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the expression on Maria’s face. “Of course.”

Maria hesitated before stepping closer. “It’s about Y/n.” Natasha set down the documents she was holding and crossed her arms. “What about her?”Maria handed her a report. “I did some basic digging on her after you brought her into the tent. Just to make sure she was clean.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, already annoyed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know.” Maria replied evenly. “But I thought it could be important. And guess what I found?” She gestured to the report. “She owns a warehouse. A whole warehouse, Nat. And it’s not a normal one. It’s not even officially registered, at least not under her name.” Natasha frowned, taking the paper and scanning the details. “And what exactly is that supposed to prove?”

Maria shrugged, but her eyes were sharp. “It’s suspicious. A young woman who claims she’s hardly ever home and works at a café has a place no one knows about? And she’s paying for it..what? under the table?” Natasha exhaled a frustrated breath, letting the piece of paper fall to the table. “Maria, I get that you’re trying to do your job, but this isn’t evidence. It doesn’t prove anything.”

“Nat!” Maria pressed, her voice harder now, “she told you exactly what you wanted to hear. A girl with a tough background who needs protection. I get it. But you can’t deny something doesn’t add up.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tighter. “I’ve been in this line of work for years. I’ve got enough experience to tell when someone’s hiding something. And I’m telling you, she’s not a criminal.”

“I know you’re good at what you do, but sometimes feelings can cloud the best instincts.” Maria try’s and is leaning in. “This isn’t that.” Natasha said sharply, leaning forward. Her eyes sparkled with conviction. Maria scoffed quietly. “And the warehouse?”

“Maybe it’s a safe place..!” Natasha countered. “Somewhere she feels secure. There’s no proof she’s doing anything illegal. I’m not going to treat her like a suspect just because she doesn’t fit your mold.” Maria paused, her eyes searching Natasha’s face. “And if you’re wrong?”

Natasha took a deep breath, her voice softer but still firm. “If I’m wrong, I’ll deal with it. But I’ve learned to trust my instincts, and my instincts tell me she’s harmless.” Maria nodded slowly, her gaze heavy. “I hope you’re right, Natasha. I really hope I’m wrong.” Natasha’s tone turned cooler as she gave Maria a pointed look. “Why do you care so much? Is this about the case, or is it…personal?” Maria stared at her, momentarily speechless. “Seriously? You think I’m saying this because I’m jealous?”

“You said it, not m.” Natasha replied with a smug smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But you’ve been showing a lot of interest in Y/n lately.”

“Natasha.” Maria said sharply, her patience wearing thin. “This isn’t a game. If I’m sure she’s hiding something, it’s because there are signs. Not because I’m jealous.” Natasha took a step back, folding her arms more tightly. “She’s not a suspect, Maria. She has nothing to do with this case.”

“You can’t know that!” Maria shot back firmly. “You’re letting your feelings for her cloud your judgment!” Natasha shook her head, her jaw tense. “I’m not letting my feelings get in the way, Maria. But I know when I can trust someone, and I trust her.” Maria looked at her, her gaze sharp and tinged with sadness. “I hope you’re right, Nat. I really hope I’m wrong. But if I’m right-” She stopped, her voice softening. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Natasha didn’t respond immediately, staring at Maria for a long moment. Finally, she picked up the piece of paper from the table, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash. “Do what you want, Maria. But leave me out of your games.” Maria stood still, watching Natasha for a moment before leaving the room, leaving her alone.

Hours later, Maria was still in the darkness of the tent, the faint light from her screen reflecting on her face. Around her, the tent was nearly empty, most of the investigators had already gone home. But Maria couldn’t pull herself away. The feeling that she was missing something important gnawed at her.

She went over the recorded conversations between The Professor and Lisbon once more. Lisbon’s voice had bothered her from the start..it was soft, almost too uncertain for someone playing such a key role in the operation. Maria hadn’t been able to connect it to a real person yet, but something about you kept nagging at her.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she went through your background data again. The unused warehouse, your seemingly aimless lifestyle..it all screamed someone trying to lay low but hiding something significant. Maria couldn’t shake the suspicion. Then she noticed a detail she’d overlooked before. A digital footprint, encrypted communication traced back to a banking network. She compared it to the voice data from Lisbon. Her eyes widened as the match came up. It was undeniable. The voice matched at 90%.

“Holy shit..” Maria murmured, her fingers trembling slightly as she copied the files. The patterns in the data and the voice couldn’t be ignored. You weren’t just an innocent civilian. You were deeply involved in the operation..you were Lisbon. Maria grabbed her phone and dialed Natasha’s number. It rang. And rang. And went to voicemail.

Meanwhile, Natasha sat at a cozy table in an elegant little restaurant. The light was warm and dim, candles flickered on every table, and soft music played in the background. You sat across from her, a shy smile on your lips as you held a glass of wine in your hands.

“Thank you for accepting the invitation.” Natasha said with a gentle smile, watching you closely. “It’s…nice. Thank you.” Natasha took a sip from her own glass, her eyes fixed on you. “I wanted to get to know you better. Away from…everything else.” You laughed softly, your voice nervous. “You mean away from my constant presence at the café?” Natasha grinned. “Nothing against the coffee, but it was getting a little repetitive.”

You glanced briefly at your glass before meeting Natasha’s gaze again. “I’m glad you asked me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this.” But as you spoke, a thought crept into Natasha’s mind: Maria’s words. The conversation earlier in the day had lingered at the edges of her thoughts. The suspicion, the warehouse, the questions..they were like a shadow at the edge of this evening. “Natasha?” your voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Hmm?” Natasha blinked, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I was just distracted for a second.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your eyes searching hers. “Yes.” Natasha lied, her smile remaining calm, though inside, she was battling with herself. Why can’t I just let Maria’s words go?

Meanwhile, Maria was relentless. After several failed attempts to reach Natasha, she decided on a different approach. She needed proof, something Natasha couldn’t ignore. Maria combed through the data again and finally found something undeniable: an encrypted login tied to the banking system, linked to your old digital signatures from your days as a hacker. Maria held her breath as she compared the files. Once again, it was clear.

You weren’t just Lisbon. You were one of the key figures behind the entire operation.

Maria opened her messaging app and typed quickly: Nat, call me. It’s important!! Y/n is Lisbon!She attached the files to the message, her heart pounding. She knew Natasha wouldn’t take this lightly, but she needed to know.

You had just leaned back when Natasha’s phone vibrated on the table. Natasha glanced at it, saw Maria’s name flash on the screen, and pushed the phone aside.

“Do you want to get that? It sounds important..” you asked cautiously. “No.” Natasha answered calmly, though her brow furrowed slightly in concern. “You’re more important right now.” But the uneasy feeling lingered. As you reached for your wine glass, Natasha discreetly turned the phone over and read Maria’s message.

Y/n is Lisbon!

The words hit her like a blow. Her hands clenched around the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes skimmed the message again, then the attached evidence: traces in the banking system, signatures that unmistakably linked to your hacker past. The connections were too clear to ignore. Natasha’s body tensed, her heartbeat unsteady, but she forced herself to remain outwardly calm. This can’t be true. No. It can’t be.

She lifted her gaze and looked at you, smiling as you sipped your wine, blissfully unaware of the world crumbling around you. Natasha swallowed hard, sliding the phone into her jacket pocket as she tried to control her breathing. Her thoughts raced. You’ve been lying to me this whole time? Every touch, every smile, every explanation, all lies?

But she couldn’t confront you here. Not now. If you were really Lisbon, you weren’t just a liar, no, you were central to one of the largest heists Natasha had ever investigated. “Is everything okay?” you asked again, your eyes searching hers. Natasha forced a soft smile. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” You nodded, but you seemed to notice her subtle tension. “Are you sure? You seem…different.”

“It’s just the wine..” Natasha said lightly, raising her glass. She looked directly at you as she spoke, her voice softening, becoming more seductive. “You know, I was thinking we could make the evening a little…more exciting.” Your face reddened slightly, your eyes widening with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

Natasha leaned forward, her hand gently resting on yours. “Why don’t we head to the bathroom? Just the two of us. Something…private.” Your heart raced. Scenarios played out in your mind, each one making you more nervous than you cared to admit. The bathroom? Now? You felt your hands trembling slightly but forced a small smile. You nodded, rising from your seat and heading toward the bathroom, your heart pounding wildly. Your thoughts swirled. What’s she doing? Why now? You stepped into the bathroom, closed the door behind you, and looked into the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven. “Calm down!” you whispered to yourself. “It’s just Natasha.”

In the hallway, Natasha stood with trembling fingers, her phone still in her hand. Maria’s message was clear and unambiguous. Evidence that tied you to the heist, signatures and traces that pointed to no one else. Her knees felt weak, her heart drummed loudly in her chest. You are Lisbon.

She couldn’t believe it. The girl I let into my life. The girl I…cared for. Disappointment, betrayal, and above all, pain gnawed at her. But she couldn’t let herself be overwhelmed by these emotions now. She had to act. Her hand instinctively moved to the grip of her weapon, her steps slow but deliberate. Yet another thought crept into her mind: What if I’m wrong? What if she has an explanation?

You didn’t notice Natasha until the door softly clicked shut behind her. You turned your head, a small, uncertain smile on your lips, one that immediately vanished when you saw the gun in Natasha’s hand. Your eyes widened, and you froze. “N-Natasha?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha held the gun steadily in front of her, her stance firm, her eyes cold. “Hands up.” she said, her tone sharp, carrying a coldness you had never heard from her before. “What…what’s going on?” you asked, your voice shaking as you slowly raised your hands, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn’t read the expression in her eyes, there was anger, yes, but beneath it was something deeper. Something raw. Pain.

“I said, hands up!” Natasha’s voice thundered in the small room, and your legs felt like they might give out beneath you. You obeyed, tears already welling up in your eyes. “What…what are you doing??” Your voice cracked as you stared at the weapon in her hand. Natasha let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a choked noise. “What am I doing? I’m arresting you Y/n! Or should I say Lisbon?”

Your heart stopped. She knows. It’s over. The Professor’s words echoed in your mind: Stay calm. You’re only caught when there’s no doubt. But how could you stay calm when Natasha, the only person you might truly care about was pointing a loaded gun at you?! Natasha stepped closer, the gun still trained on you. Her eyes shimmered with suppressed tears, but her voice remained icy. “Don’t move. Don’t say a word. You’ve lied enough.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “I I don’t know what you’re talking about. Natasha, please let-“

“Stop, Y/N!” Natasha’s voice rose, sharper this time. “I have the evidence. Maria sent me everything. Your signature. Your damn warehouse. You used me this whole time, didn’t you?”

“No!” you cried, your voice breaking in panic. “That’s not true! I would never use you!”

“Shut up!” Natasha hissed, her fingers gripping the gun so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I trusted you. I thought…” Her words faltered, and she clenched her jaw, shaking her head. “It was all lies..”You were trembling all over, your thoughts racing. Is this the end? Am I really going to be arrested now? But you forced yourself to remember the Professor’s advice: Wait. Stay in character.

“Please, Natasha..!” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making a mistake. I didn’t play you..!” But Natasha wasn’t the woman you’d come to know over the past weeks. Standing before you now was the agent. Hardened, unrelenting, and unyielding. Yet deep in Natasha’s chest, a different battle raged. I’m pointing a gun at someone I cared for. At someone I..trusted.

Natasha felt her chest tighten as she looked at you, your trembling figure, pale face, and tear-filled eyes. It was like a punch to the gut. How could I have been so wrong? But alongside the anger was something else. A pain that had nothing to do with betrayal. Why does it feel like I’m losing her, even though she’s the one who lied to me? Natasha shook her head, forcing herself to push the emotions away. She couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now.

“Turn around.” she commanded sharply, her voice hard once more. You hesitated, your body shaking so badly you could barely breathe. “Please, Natasha…”

“Turn around, or I’ll turn you around myself.” Natasha snapped. With a strangled sob, you finally obeyed, turning slowly and placing your trembling hands behind your back. Natasha pulled the handcuffs from her pocket, her movements mechanical, almost robotic. The sound of the cuffs clicking into place echoed in the small room, and you felt panic threatening to overwhelm you.

Natasha stepped back, her gun still trained on you. “We’re going to your warehouse now. And you’re going to show me what you’re hiding.” You turned your head slightly, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Natasha, please…this is a misunderstanding.”

“Shut up!” Natasha snapped, her voice breaking. “You had your chance to tell me the truth. It’s too late now.” Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your thoughts racing. I have to convince her. I have to find a way to make her believe me. But the look in Natasha’s eyes made you doubt there was any chance left. Natasha placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping you firmly as she led you toward the bathroom door. Her steps were heavy, and inside her chest, a storm of anger, grief, and disappointment raged. “You had your chance.” Natasha growled, her voice sharp. “Now the facts will speak for themselves.”

The tension in the car was unbearable, like an invisible wall separating you and Natasha. You sat in the passenger seat, your hands still cuffed behind your back, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The only sound was the low hum of the engine. Your thoughts raced, your mind a labyrinth of fear and hope. What if they really search the warehouse? What if the Professor is there right now? But as Natasha turned onto a familiar path, your eyes widened.

That warehouse…? It was the one you had hacked and claimed years ago. A place that had saved you from the cold and homelessness after you had lost everything. Relief washed over you, but tears pricked your eyes. The relief was quickly smothered by another feeling. Natasha’s broken expression. From the corner of your eye, you caught the occasional glance she cast your way. The hardness in her gaze was laced with pain, and it hurt you more than you thought possible.

Natasha abruptly parked in front of the old warehouse, the car tires crunching against the gravel. She got out, walked to the passenger side, and yanked the door open. “Out.” she commanded, her voice sharp, leaving no room for argument. You obeyed shakily, your hands aching from the cuffs behind your back. Natasha grabbed your arm and guided you to the warehouse door, which she kicked open with force.

The darkness inside was oppressive until Natasha raised her gun with one hand and flicked on the light with the other. The room flooded with warm, simple light..and Natasha froze. It wasn’t a hideout filled with plans or stolen riches. It wasn’t a space worthy of a professional thief. Instead, it was a sparsely furnished living space. An old bed in the corner, a small dresser, a makeshift table with a laptop. A tiny heater hummed quietly, and photos hung on the walls, snapshots of a time long gone.

Natasha blinked, her gun still raised, but her hands trembled slightly. “W-What…?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with confusion. She slowly lowered the weapon, her fingers shaking as she holstered it. Her breathing was unsteady, the reality of the situation hitting her like a dagger to the chest. She was a professional, trained, calm under pressure, yet here she was, a lump in her throat, the weight of her actions nearly knocking her over.

You stood a few steps away, your hands still cuffed, tears glistening in your eyes. Yet your gaze didn’t waver from Natasha, even as your body trembled. “This is…everything?” Natasha asked finally, her voice barely a whisper. You nodded, swallowing hard, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “This is all I have.” you said quietly. “My parents…” You took a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling erratically. “They died a few years ago. A car accident. It was sudden, and I had no one. No money. No family. Nothing.”

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, and a knot formed in her chest. She had suspected you were hiding something from your past, but this…this she hadn’t expected. “I lived on the streets for months.” you continued, your voice cracking. “It was winter. I was lucky to survive at all. But…I knew I couldn’t keep living like that. So I started hacking. Not to hurt anyone, but to survive.”

Natasha swallowed hard, her throat dry. Hacking to survive. Not to harm. Her hands clenched into fists as your words echoed in her mind. “This warehouse…” You glanced at it briefly before lowering your gaze again. “I hacked it. Bought it illegally. It was the only place I felt safe. Where I didn’t have to be afraid. I didn’t hurt anyone, Natasha. I just…I just wanted to survive.”

Natasha felt her chest tighten as she looked at you your pale face, your pain-filled eyes, and yet you spoke with a calmness that broke her heart even more. She exhaled deeply as your words played over and over in her mind. I cuffed her. I pointed a gun at her. The thought made her heart ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Natasha finally asked, her voice soft but broken. You looked up, your eyes shimmering with tears. “Because I was scared. Scared you wouldn’t understand. That you’d look at me…the way you’re looking at me now.” Natasha stepped back, as though your words had physically struck her. “That’s not how I see you.” she murmured, but her words felt hollow. But that’s exactly what I’ve done. I treated her like a criminal. Like someone I could never trust.

Natasha took a deep breath, her gaze shifting to the cuffs on your wrists. “Let me take these off.” she said softly, moving toward you. But as she approached, you flinched instinctively, your eyes full of fear. “Y/n..” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling. “I won’t hurt you. I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You shook your head, tears streaming uncontrollably down your face. “You pointed a gun at me..” you whispered. “You treated me like…like a monster.”

Natasha stopped in her tracks, her arms falling to her sides as her heart cracked in two. “I know.” she said quietly, her voice full of guilt. “I know, and I’ll never forgive myself.” The gun she had held earlier now felt like a symbol of all her mistakes. She looked at you, still retreating, your fear a barrier between you. And Natasha couldn’t believe what she had done.

“I…I just wanted to protect you..” Natasha whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. “And instead, I hurt you. I didn’t believe you. I…I ruined everything.” You stared at her, your lips trembling, but you said nothing. Natasha slowly raised her hands, showing you her empty palms. “Please. Let me make it right. Let me take the cuffs off.”

It felt like an eternity, but eventually, you nodded hesitantly. Natasha stepped forward carefully, unlocking the cuffs with trembling fingers. As the cuffs fell to the floor with a click, you stepped back, rubbing your sore wrists. “I’m sorry..” Natasha repeated, her voice cracking. “I don’t know how to fix this, but…I never wanted to hurt you.” You looked at her, your tear-filled eyes softening slightly, but they still held doubt. “I never wanted to hurt you either..” you whispered. Natasha stood frozen, her arms hanging limply at her sides as you sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. You rubbed your reddened wrists in silence.

Natasha wanted to say something, anything to break the tension. But the guilt weighed her down, and every time she looked at you, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. I betrayed her. I treated the one person I wanted to protect like my enemy. “You..you can sit down if you want.” you said suddenly, your voice quiet and uncertain.

Natasha blinked, as if waking from a dream. “I…” She glanced around before slowly lowering herself onto an old chair near the bed. The two of you sat in silence for a long moment. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but the air was still heavy with everything unspoken between you. You were the first to smile faintly, though your eyes were still red. “You know.” you began, your voice soft, with a hint of humor, “this isn’t the first time you’ve treated me like a criminal.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What?”

“The café.” you said, a tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Remember? You looked at me like you wanted to arrest me on the spot.” Natasha felt the corners of her mouth lift into a small, reluctant smile. “Maybe because you seemed so suspicious..” she said softly, her tone slightly teasing. You let out a small, shaky laugh, the first in hours, but it sounded fragile, as though it could break at any moment. “Suspicious? I was just trying to help you. You looked at me like I was public enemy number one.”

Natasha shook her head, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. “And now I’ve done exactly that. I arrested you.” Your smile faded as you noticed the pain return to her expression. “I’m sorry.” Natasha said suddenly, her voice raw. “I should have trusted you. I should never have treated you that way.” You looked at her, your gaze softening even more, though a trace of caution remained. “You were just doing your job.” you said quietly.

“That’s no excuse.” Natasha replied quickly, her hands balling into fists. “I pointed a gun at you. I cuffed you like you were…” Her voice cracked, and she lowered her gaze. “I hurt you.” You shrugged slightly and gestured to your still-red wrists with a faint smile. “Cuffs. A gun. And an emotional breakdown. Not exactly what I imagined for a date.”

Natasha stared at you, her eyes filled with regret. “I wronged you.” she said quietly. “I didn’t trust you, and I…I treated you like a monster. But you’re not.”You bit your lip, averting your gaze. A part of you felt the weight of her guilt, but you couldn’t ignore that some of what Natasha believed was true. “Maybe I am a monster.” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m not innocent. I’m not…who you thought I was.”

“You’re more than you think!” Natasha said immediately, her voice firm. “I’ve seen who you are. Not the person you pretend to be, but the person you truly are.” You wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t. Her words hit you deeply, and you didn’t know if you could accept them. Natasha stood, her movements slow and cautious, as though afraid of pushing you further away. She moved toward the bed and sat beside you, leaving a respectful distance.

“I didn’t want this to end like this..” Natasha said softly. You raised your head, looking at her, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. “It wasn’t just your fault.” you said quietly. “I…I lied to you too. I’m not innocent.”

“Maybe not.” Natasha said gently. “But that doesn’t change how I feel.” The words hung between you, and your chest tightened. You knew Natasha trusted you..or at least wanted to. But the guilt in your heart grew heavier as you thought about the plan.

Natasha lifted a hand cautiously, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Her movements were slow, almost hesitant, as though she feared you would pull away. “I don’t want to lose you.” Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. You looked at her, and before you knew it, you leaned forward slightly. Your lips met hers, tentative and uncertain but filled with emotion. Natasha responded, her hands gently cradling your face as though afraid you might break.

But suddenly, you pulled back, your breathing heavy, guilt and fear swirling in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Natasha asked, her voice laced with concern. You shook your head, your hands trembling. “I…I can’t do this..” you said softly. “Not without telling you the truth.” Natasha looked at you, her gaze softening. “You don’t have to tell me until you’re ready.” she said gently. “I know you want to trust me. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Her words struck you deeply, and finally, your tears spilled over. I have to keep the plan going, you thought. But what if it costs me everything? The thought weighed heavily on your heart as you realized the stakes of what lay ahead. But in that moment, all you could feel was Natasha’s warmth beside you. Her touch, her presence, and her unwavering belief in who you truly were.

"You don't know what you're saying." you whispered, your voice breaking. "I do." Natasha said softly, lifting your chin so your eyes met hers. "I'm saying I see you-for everything you are. And I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose you." You couldn't ignore the guilt and fear clawing at you, but in that moment, all you could feel was Natasha's closeness.

You gazed into her eyes, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance and kissed her again. The kiss was tentative, brimming with unspoken emotions, and Natasha responded immediately, her hands gently resting on your waist. She pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against yours as she took a deep breath. "Are you sure?" she asked softly, her voice full of tenderness but tinged with concern.

You nodded, your eyes shimmering as you answered honestly. "I'm not sure about anything." you said. "But I want...I want to be here. With you." Natasha smiled faintly, a genuine, fragile smile, before she kissed you. This time, her movements were less hesitant, filled with a quiet intensity. Her hands slid gently to your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

The tension between you grew as Natasha's fingers trailed delicately down your back, her touch sending shivers through you. You let yourself sink back onto the mattress, your hands finding their way to Natasha's waist, pulling her closer. "Is this okay?" Natasha asked again, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked down at you.

You nodded, your chest rising and falling quickly, and you reached for her hand, guiding it to your side. "Yes.." you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. Natasha began slowly, cautiously, her fingers gliding over your sides before gripping the hem of your shirt. She hesitated for a moment, searching your eyes for permission. When you raised your arms to help her, she carefully lifted the fabric over your head and set it aside.

Her gaze roamed your body, but she paused, her fingers brushing gently over your skin. "You're beautiful.." Natasha murmured, her voice shaky but sincere. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you turned your head slightly. "Stop.." you mumbled quietly. "No." Natasha said firmly yet softly, leaning down to press delicate kisses along your neck. "I mean it."

Natasha began to lower herself, her lips trailing soft, lingering kisses across your collarbone. Each touch felt like a spark against your skin, sending shivers through your body. Her hands moved to your sides, steadying you as she continued her path downward. When her lips reached the hem of your pants, she paused, glancing up at you. “Is this okay?” she asked softly, her voice filled with care.

“Yes..” you whispered, your cheeks flushing as you nodded. Natasha took her time, peeling your pants away with deliberate slowness, her fingers grazing your skin as she revealed more of you and this made you squirm slightly, your hands instinctively moving to cover your face. Natasha chuckled softly, reaching up to gently pull your hands away. “Don’t hide from me.” she said, her voice firm but kind. “I want to see you.”

As Natasha moved lower, her lips pressing soft, lingering kisses to your hips and thighs, you felt your body tense, your back arching slightly as the sensations overwhelmed you. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this, so intimate, so consuming, and it was hard to stay still. Her hands pressed you gently but firmly back against the mattress, holding you steady as her lips continued their slow descent. She took her time, her touch unhurried but deliberate, her lips and tongue exploring with a precision that left you breathless.

You couldn’t stop the soft sounds that escaped your lips, your hands moving instinctively to her hair as you tried to ground yourself. Natasha didn’t stop, her movements growing more purposeful as she found the places that made you gasp, that made your body tense in ways you couldn’t control.

“Look at me.” she said softly, her voice steady but firm. You opened your eyes, meeting her gaze, and the intensity in her expression made your breath hitch. Natasha’s movements grew more purposeful, and she smiled faintly as she watched the pleasure overtake you again. Her tongue and lips moved with precision, exploring you with a slowness that made your toes curl. Each sound you made only seemed to spur her on, her grip on your hips tightening slightly as she held you in place.

“N-Natasha..” you gasped, your voice trembling as your back arched instinctively. Her tongue found your most sensitive spot, and you couldn't stop the loud moan that escaped your lips, your back arching instinctively. Natasha chuckled softly, her hands moving to grip your hips and press you back against the mattress. "You're not going anywhere.." she mur-mured, her voice tinged with amusement but filled with desire.

Her words only made the tension in your chest grow, and you couldn’t stop the way your fingers tangled in her hair, holding her closer as the pleasure built higher and higher. When you finally reached your peak, a loud cry escaped your lips, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Natasha didn’t stop, her hands holding you steady as she coaxed you through it, her lips pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh as you came down from the high. “That’s it.” she murmured, her voice filled with awe. “You’re incredible.”

She kissed you softly, slowly, her lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. As she pulled back, her hand gently cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against clit. “Still with me?” Natasha whispered, her voice low and steady.

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that escaped was a broken, trembling moan. Natasha stilled for a moment, her gaze flickering down to your lips before returning to your eyes. Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “I’ll take that as a yes..” she murmured, her tone carrying a hint of humor, though her voice was thick with desire.

Her words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and you whimpered, your hands clutching at the fabric of her shirt. Natasha leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as her other hand slid lower, her fingers moving with deliberate intent. When her fingers slipped inside you, you couldn’t stop the loud moan that escaped your lips, your back arching instinctively off the mattress. Natasha let out a low groan of her own, her gaze flickering downward as her fingers moved deeper.

“God.” she muttered, her voice rough, “you’re so responsive.” and she felt it, the way your walls clenched tightly around her touch. Natasha froze briefly, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Oh..” she said, her voice tinged with awe and amusement. “You like this, don’t you? The way I’m talking to you?”

You let out another broken moan in response, your body trembling beneath her. Natasha groaned softly, her jaw tightening as she pressed her forehead against yours. “Say something..” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. “Say my name.” But you couldn’t. The pleasure was too much, and all that came out were more desperate, breathless moans. Natasha grinned, her free hand moving to grip your hip and hold you steady as your body squirmed beneath her.

“You’re completely gone..” she whispered, her tone laced with satisfaction. “God, you’re so perfect like this.” Her fingers moved with more purpose now, her thumb brushing against you in a way that made your head spin. Every gasp, every moan that spilled from your lips seemed to affect her just as much as it did you. Natasha’s own breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep herself in control.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me..” she admitted, her voice rough. “Hearing you like this, feeling you…God, it’s making me crazy.” She glanced down briefly, her gaze fixating on the way her fingers moved inside you, the way your body responded to her touch. Her lips parted slightly, and she let out a soft, involuntary groan. “You’re so perfect.” she muttered, almost to herself. “Absolutely perfect.”

The intensity of her touch, her voice, the way she looked at you..it was all too much. You felt the pleasure building higher and higher, your body trembling uncontrollably beneath her. Natasha noticed immediately, her hand on your hip tightening as her movements grew more deliberate. “That’s it.” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Let go for me. Come for me Y/n..”

“F-Fuck..! ”Her words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your head tipping back as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Natasha groaned softly as she felt your walls clench tightly around her fingers, her forehead dropping to rest against yours. “Good girl..” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she worked you through the climax. “That’s my good girl.”

Her fingers slowed but didn’t stop, her free hand smoothing over your side as she kissed your temple softly. “You’re incredible.” she murmured, her voice filled with awe. “Do you know that?” As you came down from the high, your chest heaving, Natasha didn’t pull away. Her fingers remained inside you, her movements slow and deliberate as she watched your flushed face.

When it was over, her touch soft and soothing as you lay trembling beneath her. She pulled her hand away gently, her gaze flicking back up to your face. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven, but her eyes were filled with warmth and something deeper, something that made your chest tighten. “You’re okay?” she asked softly, her thumb brushing against your cheek.

You nodded, though your breath was still shaky, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. Natasha smiled faintly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. You buried your face in her shoulder, your body still trembling as her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “I…I didn’t know it could feel like that.” you admitted softly, your voice muffled against her skin. Natasha chuckled, her fingers brushing through your hair as she held you tightly. “You deserve to feel like this.” she said firmly. “And I’ll make sure you do. Every single time.”

Her words made your chest ache, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I…I don’t know what to say,” you whispered. “You don’t have to say anything,” Natasha replied, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “Just let me hold you..”

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov

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banditcoyote · 1 day ago

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"Then I guess you wanted it." he said just as playfully, wagging his head side to side. "Cause I just did it." He laughed again. "It's okay, I know how much you like being pinned by me." "Not all of it." he said not wanting to take all the credit. "But a lot of it was me. The wolves have a lot of connections to the gardens here, and the woods surrounding, this is our territory. Since I've been busy with Gaultier there were probably a few others who helped, maybe a fairy or two by design. Echo does love flowers and he knows a lot about them, so he usually picks the varieties for more special occasions, like when he wants them to really punch home to the symbolism of something. But he can't grow them himself so he has to have others do the work." "I just wonder if he's more upset about what it actually means, or that Echo might have been deceptive about something. Not that it should be so surprising, but Coyote does need to put a level of trust in him if he's allowing all of this to happen." Raphael commented. When she became confused he blinked at her for a moment to see if she was kidding and then threw back his head in an easy laugh. "I'm talking about Me, you dolt." he said playfully and nudged her in the shoulder. "And probably any fairy you want too."

"My guess is you're already worrying about it, and I don't want to put salt in the wound." but Sasuga was already answering her phone and Raphael's ears were perked up in an attempt to eavesdrop. "I'm fine, we're fine, everything is fine." he said the relief clear in his voice. "Are you still in the garden?" Raphael started climbing to his feet. "I can walk you back." he whispered.

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

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doctormonocat · 3 days ago

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Replaced

Self Aware! Rafayel x Unaware! Player

Can you guess which other game character this is inspired by? I will be doing a series for each of the LADS boys being self aware. A little angsty, once again. It will hopefully become clear, but this is a story about Rafayel, your favorite LI, becoming self aware, and eventually being replaced by Caleb. I just picked Caleb bc he just released, but Sylus or any LI released after start would work. Hope you enjoy! I'll prolly do a part 2. A bit long, sorry!

Self Aware! Rafayel who becomes aware slowly but surely. Rather than an instant moment of understanding, he begins to recognize new things in his world, things he didn’t understand before. Things seem… out of order. Time is disjointed, his senses thrown into a black void just as often as he is alive.

Self Aware! Rafayel realizes he is a game character long before he ever becomes aware of you. His existence seems to dull with each passing day before he meets you. His life, his suffering, his love… none of its real. He realizes that he is pre programmed into a virtual reality. But he wonders, why? And why does he feel a sort of… presence?

Self Aware! Rafayel who feels the presence everywhere. In his battles with his… lover? (is she still? Does he even want her to be? Rafayel doesn’t know. Even she seems fake now) There is an unknowing force watching him. Despite the oddity of it, Rafayel isn’t alarmed by it. If anything, it’s comforting. Warm. It feels like his first hug after a life of being touch starved.

Self Aware! Rafayel becomes addicted to the presence. Comforted by the ever watching force. He looks forward to his limited interactions with it in that cafe everyday. His dulled world begins to spill with color.

Self Aware! Rafayel who one day sees… you. You’re the presence that’s been there for what seems like years, the only thing allowing sunshine to pour into Rafayel’s darkened world. He preens under your attention, feeling like a deep sea fish seeing the light for the first time.

Self Aware! Rafayel who finally realizes his world is a dating game. It's a bit of a shock, but a surprising comfort. You had become his everything before he was even aware who you were, and being able to actually see you everyday has only deepened his feelings. So, learning that you joined this game to date the characters, and that he is your main focus is a relief. He feels requited. You care about him just as much as he does you (maybe not quite as much, he realizes. Currently, you are his only tether to realness, and are still unaware of his awareness or his feelings. But, it won’t be like that for much longer).

Self Aware! Rafayel who is aware of the other male love interests, but doesn’t pay them much of a mind besides the occasional twinge of jealousy. After all, you only complete their events out of a sense of obligation. But he is your focus. You pull for his cards, spend your in game currency on his outfits, and have him accompany you for card games and plushie hunting. It’s clear to him, he is your favorite. And he hopes that when he makes you aware of his presence too, that your favoritism will turn into something more. So, in response to those other boys, all he does is give you a pout the next time you visit him in your cafe. But, seeing your smile in his presence makes the painter’s grumpy mood vanish quickly. He loves your smile, direct just at him; teasing, joking, and flirting all the time just to see it whenever he wants. Yeah. He needs to see that smile more often.

Self Aware! Rafayel who wants everything to be perfect for when he confesses. He’s been picking up some coding skills on the side, trying to keep it hidden from you as he carves out a small place in his world just for you to. The perfect place by the beach, with the perfect light. The perfect gift (a painting of you), the perfect words to say to make you understand the depth of his sentience and of his love. His perfect moment. He’s worried he might spoil it accidentally though, with the extra attention he’s been lavishing on you. You’re just so cute, that every time you cheer after the two of you win a battle together he can’t help but laugh along. He’s a little tired of waiting, but he still wants everything to be perfect. He just hopes you can chalk up your excellent luck pulling cards and his extra smiles to a new game mechanic.

Self Aware! Rafayel who is vaguely aware of the announcement of a new male love interest. Colin? Or maybe Cade? Who cares? Rafayel’s been your favorite since launch. Truly, he doesn’t pay too much attention. He’s too focused on making his confession to you just perfect.

Self Aware! Rafayel who starts paying attention when he hears it come from your mouth.

“Caleb is almost here!” You say, cheerily.

Self Aware! Rafayel who feels his heart clench a little. Now he begins to remember the details clearly. Caleb. Thats his name. The jealousy he feels is a bit more papabile than it has been before with the other boys, feeling like a heavy stone pulling his heart down into a dark ocean. He remembers you playing that chapter with that… man… in it a couple times, but he dismissed it as you trying to better understand the story. He knows it's not because you want to see that guy. Is it?

| | | | |

Self Aware! Rafayel who doesn't realize how black everything has been until he’s let out into the light again. How long has it been? He feels his body physically react when he checks your phone’s internal clock and realizes a month has passed. His world had become dull again without you at least visiting him; fake, and flat and just black. It scares him for two reasons. The first, that without you he might stop being aware, stop existing as he is now. He might start being like the other nothings that populate his world without you, pre programmed to run in circles. It terrifies him. And the second, that something might have happened to you in the time you were away from him. He is even more scared that something in your large and expansive reality might be able to harm you. With his dulled senses, he hasn’t felt your presence visiting him at all in the past month (that went by all too fast to him. Add that to his growing list of things that will keep him up at night.)

Self Aware! Rafayel who is scared now for an entirely different reason. He manages to use his coding skills in the brief time period where you are visiting to tether himself to the game outright. At least it will be harder now to pull him away from you. Even if you stop visiting, he’ll be aware. But with that, comes an even worse realization. You’d been here, actually. In the game, playing as usual. Just not with him.

Self Aware! Rafayel who wants to cry and shout all at once. Who the hell is this Caleb, and how dare he take you from him (he tries to push down the feeling that you have betrayed him as well. He doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole of resenting the only thing that makes him feel alive). So, instead he blames this… usurper, who has stolen your love, your light, your attention away from him.

Self Aware! Rafayel who has a plan to get your attention back. Screw the perfect moment. He just needs to confess the next time he sees you. You’ll throw away apple boy the second you realize you have a sentient fishie who loves you more than anything.

Self Aware! Rafayel begins to slowly realize a couple of harrowing things. The first, that you haven’t visited him in a long time. The last time you did, his first gasp of air in over a month, seemed to be irregular, if not a fluke entirely. You were too focused on Caleb (the name still sickens him to think about) to spend anytime with him anymore. Who knows if you would even give him the chance to confess. The second, even more harrowing thought. Was it your attention, your love, that brought him sentience? If so, could that same awareness be brought to another? Would Rafayel’s competition soon extend to another man who knew of your existence just as he did? The third, that it might not even matter for him or the “colonel” either. You had discarded and neglected Rafayel so easily when a new shiny toy came into your view. Did you even see him as real? Would you ever? Were you even capable of that?

Self Aware! Rafayel chose to push that thought down deep. He would cross that bridge when he got to it. No, he should deal with the problem at hand. Caleb. Just the very thought of him made fire burn in Rafayel’s veins and a sting like salt water in his throat. At the very least, he should deal with this so-called replacement.

Self Aware! Rafayel who knows deep in his soul, in the very essence of his being that you love him. You’ve just been… distracted. Tempted. Lured. But Rafayel knows about luring also. He is a siren, a vision of seduction and temptation. Colonel apple can’t compare. Rafayel will use very weapon in his arsenal. His newly acquired coding skills will force you to see him, force you to let him win your love back. He’ll shower you with gifts, with digital seashells, in game currency, and his sweet words. He’ll hold off on confessing, just until his competition is not even a memory in your mind.

Self Aware! Rafayel decides that even if that fails, he has other ways of convincing you to his side. He wonders what would happen if he were to alter the game code, to make Caleb repulsive to you, or even better, gone (the thought of messing with the game code, with the very essence of the world does still make him a bit queasy. Perhaps that will be his last resort). Instead, he wonders what would happen if he decided to find Caleb in his world. Maybe a recreation of a certain explosion might be in order, certain to actually find it’s target this time.

Self Aware! Rafayel who is becoming desperate. He’s willing to do anything. Even if it means removing all other obstacles by any means necessary. You will love him again.

After all, why wouldn’t you? With no one else but him and you, everything will be just as it should be.

#rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel l&ds #love and deepspace rafayel #angst #love and deepspace angst #lads rafayel #rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #lads x mc #lads x you

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harryspurpleloofah · 2 days ago

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Just next door

Summary: the guy who just moved in next door invited Y/N over for coffee and she saw a sex toy. Him hearing her touch herself later that day evolves into phone sex

Warnings: swearing, female and male masturbation, fingering, phone sex, guided masturbation, mentions of reader hearing moans from Harry’s apartment while he hooks up with someone, I think like a tiny bit of swearing?

The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the small apartment as Y/N set two steaming mugs on the table near the window. Across from her, Clara perched eagerly on a chair, her fingers drumming against the ceramic mug in her hands.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Clara said, leaning forward like she was about to deliver life-changing news.

Y/N arched a brow. “What? Did someone steal your parking spot again?”

Clara shook her head, a grin already tugging at her lips. “No, it’s way better. I was coming up the stairs earlier, and guess who I saw?”

“Unless it’s Freddie Mercury, I’m not guessing,” Y/N replied dryly, taking a sip from her cup.

“A man,” Clara said, her grin growing wider. “A hot man. Like, ridiculously hot. And he was moving boxes into the apartment right next to yours.”

That got Y/N’s attention. She straightened slightly, setting her cup down. “The apartment next door? The one that’s been empty like…forever?”

“Exactly!” Clara practically squealed. “And let me just tell you, this guy is no ordinary neighbor. He’s tall, has this messy, curly hair, and..oh my God—he was wearing a sleeveless shirt while carrying all those boxes. His arms, Y/N. His arms. I swear they look like they belong in a museum.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a flicker of curiosity was in her. “Sounds like someone’s trying to show off.”

“Um, if you had arms like that, wouldn’t you?” Clara quipped. “He’s a walking thirst trap, I’m telling you. You should bake him cookies or something, just so I have an excuse to come back and see him again.”

“Yeah right,” Y/N scoffed. “The last thing I need is to deal with a cocky neighbor who probably spends more time flexing in mirrors than unpacking his boxes.”

Clara snorted, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t write him off just yet. You haven’t even met him. What if he’s sweet? Or mysterious? Or—”

“Or obnoxious,” Y/N interrupted. “Or loud. Or the kind of guy who blasts terrible music at all hours.”

“Or the kind of guy who’s so hot you won’t care,” Clara shot back.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “Let’s just hope he keeps to himself and doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Y/N was halfway through folding laundry on the couch when she heard a knock at the door. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the clock—7:30 p.m. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Clara had left hours ago, and most of her neighbors preferred to keep to themselves.

She padded over to the door and opened it. There he was.

The first thing she noticed was the curls—a messy tumble of dark brown waves that framed his face just right. Then her eyes caught on the white T-shirt stretched across his chest and the tattoos that peeked out along his arms, ink twisting down his skin like art in motion. He had a lazy, easy smile, the kind that could disarm anyone without trying.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm, slightly raspy. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Harry—just moved in next door.”

Y/N blinked, forcing herself to recover. Of course, he’s stupidly attractive, she thought, Clara’s earlier words ringing in her ears.

“Oh,” she said quickly, gripping the edge of the door. “Hi. Welcome, I guess.”

His smile widened a bit, his dimples appearing. “Thanks. Umm, I hate to be that guy, but do you happen to have a screwdriver I could borrow? I can’t find mine in all the boxes, and my bookshelf is dangerously close to collapsing on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not she wanted to prolong this interaction. But then she caught the faintest trace of hope in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely sure she’d help. That, and the hint of an accent lacing his words, made it hard to say no.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got one. Hold on a second.”

She left the door slightly ajar as she went to the kitchen drawer, rummaging around until she found the toolkit. When she came back, Harry was leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“Here,” she said, holding out the screwdriver. “You can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

He took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thanks. Lifesaver.” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

“Well, Y/N,” he said, his smile turning just a touch more charming. “I owe you one. First favor in the books already. You’re making it hard for me to be a bad neighbor.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as she tried to suppress it. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

He grinned, taking a step back toward his door. “I guess we’ll see. Thanks again, Y/N.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing in the doorway with a slight flush creeping up her neck and an unfamiliar warmth buzzing in her chest.

A month later, the café was buzzing with quiet chatter as Y/N stirred her iced coffee, the clinking of the ice against the glass the only sound between her and Clara for the moment. Across the small table, Clara was mid-bite of her sandwich, but the look in her eyes told Y/N she was just waiting for the right moment to drop something.

“What?” Y/N finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

Clara grinned, swallowing quickly before leaning forward. “Nothing. Just…how are things with your very hot neighbor?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she felt the faintest blush creep up her neck. “They’re fine. He borrowed a screwdriver the other day. That’s the extent of our interactions.”

She smiles, “Well when I pulled into the lot, your new neighbor..Harry, right? He was coming back from a run.”

Y/N looked up, her fork hovering in the air. “A run?”

“Uh-huh,” Clara confirmed, grinning now. “And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold. He was wearing these black running shorts and a tank top, and he was like, glistening in all the right places. I swear it was like watching one of those slow-motion workout montages in a movie.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Clara.”

“What?” Clara said innocently, though the glint in her eye betrayed her. “I’m just saying, the man has no business looking like that while casually jogging. And he looked so…relaxed about it, like he didn’t even realize every living being with eyes was staring at him.”

Y/N took a sip of her iced coffee, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. “Okay, you’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” Clara shot back, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The guy looks like he walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. How are you living next door to that and still functioning?”

“He’s just being neighborly.”

“Neighborly, my ass,” Clara said with a snort. “If he comes knocking again, you better invite him in for more than a tool. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Clara!” Y/N yelled.

“What?” Clara said with an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just looking out for you. If I had a neighbor like that, I wouldn’t waste a second.”

Shaking her head, Y/N stabbed at her meal, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. But Clara’s words lingered, teasing at the edges of her thoughts.

Because as much as she hated to admit it, there was something about Harry that made her wonder just how long she could keep pretending not to notice.

Lunch wrapped up soon with banter, but as the pair strolled back toward Y/N’s apartment, Clara looped her arm through Y/N’s, still buzzing with energy.

“So,” Clara said, bumping her shoulder. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Y/N smiled, unlocking the door to the building and holding it open for Clara. “What are you saying? You want to stick around and steal all my food again?”

“Obviously,” Clara replied with a grin. “Your popcorn is better than mine, and you know it. Besides, it’s been ages since we had a proper movie night. You’ve been sooo busy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as they made their way up the stairs. “I’ve barely been busy. You’re just dramatic.”

“Whatever you say,” Clara said breezily. “So…movies? Wine? Popcorn?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But you’re in charge of picking the movies this time. If I pick, you’ll just complain the whole time and then end up watching them anyway.”

“Fair point,” Clara said, shrugging. “Alright, deal. I’ll find something good.”

They reached Y/N’s apartment, and as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she glanced over her shoulder. “Just don’t pick anything sappy, alright? I’m not in the mood for tearjerkers.”

She opened the cabinet where she kept the popcorn. “Butter or kettle corn?”

“Both,” Clara said, plopping onto the couch and grabbing a pillow. “Oh, and maybe I’ll grab a blanket in case it gets cold. Can’t be too prepared.”

Y/N smiled. Clara’s energy was infectious, and as much as she liked having her space, she was glad for the company.

“Alright, movie marathon it is,” Y/N said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.

As the familiar hum of the TV filled the room and the scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted through the air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Despite Clara’s endless teasing, she was glad for the distraction.

Soon Y/N and Clara were sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty bowls of popcorn and half-finished glasses of wine. The action movie Clara had insisted on watching blared from the speakers, explosions and dramatic one-liners filling the space.

Y/N shifted under her blanket, stifling a yawn, when Clara suddenly sat up straighter, her head tilting to the side.

“Wait,” Clara said, holding up a hand to shush Y/N.

“What?” Y/N asked, frowning as she paused mid-sip of her wine.

Clara’s eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Do you hear that?”

Y/N froze, listening. For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the movie. But then, faintly, she heard it—a muffled rhythm, like the creak of a bedframe, punctuated by soft, indistinct noises.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

Clara’s mouth dropped open, and she slapped a hand over it to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God,” she whispered, leaning toward Y/N. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Shh!” Y/N hissed. Clara ignored her, pointing toward the wall that separated Y/N’s apartment from Harry’s. “It’s coming from his place, isn’t it? Your neighbor?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N muttered, gripping her glass a little too tightly.

But Clara wasn’t letting it go. She reached for the remote, pausing the movie mid-explosion. The silence that followed was deafening, except it wasn’t really silent at all. The noises became clearer without the distraction of the TV, and there was no mistaking it now. A low, breathy moan filtered through the thin walls, followed by another creak of the bed.

Clara gasped, her eyes wide with delight. “It is him!” she whispered dramatically.

“Do you think it’s…like, a one-time thing?” Clara whispered, barely able to keep a straight face.

“I don’t want to think about it at all,” Y/N whispered back, sinking deeper into the couch and covering her ears.

Clara grinned, clearly reveling in Y/N’s discomfort. “I mean, hey, at least you know he’s good at something. Not that you’ll ever find out, of course.”

Y/N grabbed a throw pillow and smacked Clara with it, eliciting a loud laugh. “Shut up!”

The next morning, Clara had left at about 9 AM and now Y/N had just settled on the couch with a mug of coffee when a knock at the door startled her. Setting the mug down, she padded over to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was standing there. Harry.

He was leaning against the doorframe, holding her screwdriver in one hand. His curls were disheveled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, but somehow he still managed to pull it off in a way that was unfairly attractive.

“Morning,” he said, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t used it much yet. “Thought I’d return this before I forgot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N said, taking the screwdriver from him. She hesitated for a second, her eyes scanning his face. “You okay? You look… tired.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you could say that. Had a bit of a rough night.”

She leaned against the doorframe, curious despite herself. “Oh? Something happen?”

Harry hesitated, his lips twitching in what might’ve been embarrassment or amusement. “Let’s just say I had one too many drinks… and some questionable company.”

Y/N blinked, her stomach doing a strange little flip. “Oh.”

He gave a dry laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not exactly my proudest moment. Went out to blow off some steam, ended up bringing someone back. She left early this morning, and now I’m regretting pretty much everything about it.”

Y/N tried to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. It wasn’t her business..he was an adult, and hookups happened. But still, the thought of someone else being with him, hearing those same soft, raspy tones directed at them, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Well,” she said, keeping her tone light, “I guess everyone has those nights, right?”

Harry smiled faintly, leaning against the doorframe. “Guess so. Just…doesn’t feel great, y’know? She was nice enough, but it was all a bit…empty.”

Y/N tilted her head, surprised by his honesty. There was something raw about the way he said it, like he wasn’t just brushing it off as a joke or a casual story.

Harry chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a tiny flutter through her chest. “Lesson learned,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly my proudest decision. I guess I was just…blowing off steam, y’know?”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Rough week?”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that. Moving’s been a bit of a whirlwind, and… I don’t know. I guess I’m still getting used to being here. New city, new place, no familiar faces. It’s a bit… lonely.”

Her expression softened. “I get that. Moving can be tough. When I first moved here, I didn’t know anyone either. It took me ages to feel like this place was actually home.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah? What changed?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just…let myself settle in. Met a few people, got into a routine. Eventually, it started to feel right.” She paused, feeling a pang of sympathy. “You’ll get there. It just takes time.”

Harry’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier, more intimate. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Anyway, you should probably get some coffee if you’re running on no sleep. It might help.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “You offering?”

She managed to keep her voice steady. “Sure, if you don’t mind instant coffee and a very stubborn coffee machine.”

Harry laughed softly. “Instant coffee sounds like heaven right now.”

“Well, come in then,” she said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “It’s the least I can do after you brought back my screwdriver.”

The apartment was warm and filled with the lingering scent of fresh coffee. Harry glanced around, his gaze landing on the cozy setup in the living room. “Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, heading into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee started.”

As she fiddled with the coffee machine, Harry leaned casually against the counter, watching her with an easy smile. “You’re sure I’m not interrupting anything? I don’t want to mess up your morning.”

“You’re not interrupting,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “It’s nice to have some company, actually. Most mornings it’s just me and my to-do list.”

Harry chuckled. “Sounds thrilling.”

“Oh, it’s the height of excitement,” she deadpanned, pressing the button on the coffee machine—only for nothing to happen. She frowned, pressing it again. Still nothing.

“Uh-oh,” Harry said, stepping closer. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah definitely not.”

“Is if broken?”

“I think so,”

He smiled softly, “No worries we can go to mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Besides, I really need that coffee.”

Harry’s apartment felt like stepping into a place that was truly lived in..a home, not just a space. The walls were painted a soft, warm cream, and natural light poured through sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. Potted plants thrived in every corner, adding bursts of green to the room. A woven throw rug lay beneath a large, overstuffed couch that was piled with mismatched cushions, some knitted, others patterned with earthy tones.

The coffee table was a mix of practicality and personality, a stack of books with worn spines, an old mug filled with pens, and a half-melted candle that smelled faintly of cedar and citrus.

In one corner, a record player sat atop a weathered wooden stand, surrounded by a scattering of vinyls leaning casually against the wall. Above it hung a cluster of Polaroid photos strung on twine with tiny wooden clips, each one capturing moments of laughter, travel, and faces Y/N didn’t recognize but instantly envied.

The kitchen blended seamlessly into the living space, its counters lined with signs of use: a ceramic bowl of fruit, a drying rack with a couple of dishes, and a cheerful tea towel hanging over the edge of the sink. The faint scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air as Harry stood at the counter, pouring steaming liquid into two mismatched mugs.

“You’ve got a really cozy place,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she took it all in.

Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small grin. “Thanks. Took me a while to get it feeling right. Guess I’m a sucker for a homey vibe.”

“You nailed it,” she said, her gaze drifting again.

She wandered over to a small shelf tucked beside the couch. It was cluttered in the best way…books stacked horizontally and vertically, a framed photo of what looked like Harry and his family standing on a windswept beach, and a small globe with the paint chipped in a few places. Everything about it felt warm and personal, like every item had a story.

“You can sit if you want,” Harry called out, his voice easy and light. “Promise I won’t be offended if you don’t want to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m fine. Just…looking.”

She continued her slow circle, her eyes catching on a door slightly ajar at the end of the short hallway. The bedroom, she guessed, though she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem like she was prying.

But then, as her gaze traveled to the other side of the room, something caught her attention.

It was on the floor by the edge of the couch, partially hidden beneath the throw blanket that had slipped off the armrest. At first, she thought it was just a random object—a stray remote or maybe some kind of gadget, but as she stepped a little closer, her stomach flipped.

A sleek, unmistakable shape came into view. It was a vibrator.

Small and simple, but undeniably there, lying just slightly out of place amidst the cozy, domestic warmth of his apartment. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her face burning. Had he seen her notice it? Did he even realize it was there?

“You okay over there?” Harry’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and she turned to see him leaning against the counter, a mug in each hand, his expression amused.

“Fine!” she said quickly, her voice a little higher than usual. She walked toward him, hoping he didn’t notice her awkwardness. “Just…admiring your plant collection. They’re very..healthy.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but too polite to push. “Well, thanks. They get all the credit. I just water them and hope for the best.”

As he handed her a mug, their fingers brushed briefly, and Y/N swore she felt a spark. She took a sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground her as she avoided glancing back toward the couch.

But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the toy was burned into her mind, along with the unwelcome but undeniable thought of Harry using it on someone.

“So,” Harry said, oblivious to her spiraling thoughts, “tell me about yourself, Y/N. What do you do for fun when you’re not rescuing broken coffee machines or lending out screwdrivers?”

Y/N forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the pink still dusting her cheeks. “Oh, you know. The usual. Reading, bingeing bad TV, trying to keep my plants alive…” She trailed off, her voice softening as she met his eyes. “Nothing as interesting as this place, though.”

Harry shrugged, his lips quirking up in that easy, lopsided grin. “Guess it depends on your definition of interesting. My life’s not as exciting as it might look.”

Harry followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing in confusion at first. But then his eyes landed on the object partially hidden beneath the blanket on the couch, and his expression changed instantly.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you saw that, didn’t you?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, trying to pretend like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. “Yeah, I did.”

“Damn,” Harry said, his voice soft with a mix of awkwardness and apology. He stepped around the counter, closing some of the space between them. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I should’ve—I didn’t know it was just sitting there. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss it. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks, and she desperately wanted to escape the situation before it got any more mortifying. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t—”

“Still,” Harry interrupted, running a hand through his hair. “That’s…not exactly something you want to stumble across when you’re just trying to have a cup of coffee.”

She laughed nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s fine, Harry. I promise.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his green eyes searching her face like he wasn’t sure if he should drop the subject or keep apologizing. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I swear I’m not like having sex 24/7. It just…happens to be there, and I didn’t think—”

“Harry, seriously,” Y/N cut him off, her voice firmer this time. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

She glanced toward the door, her heart still racing, and gave him a tight smile. “I should probably get going, though. I’ve, uh, got some stuff to do.”

Harry’s smile faded, and for a second, something flickered in his expression—disappointment, maybe? But he quickly masked it, nodding as he stepped back to give her space.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his tone light and casual, though it didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “Thanks for, you know, not freaking out.”

She smiled faintly, already moving toward the door. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets as they reached the threshold.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the frame, “thanks for the company. Even if I managed to completely ruin it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Y/N said, her smile softening. “It was…nice.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his grin returning, though it was smaller this time. “Good to know.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving him a quick wave and slipping out into the hallway. As the door closed behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart still pounding.

Y/N leaned back against the headboard of her bed, her room dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp. The book she’d been trying to read lay forgotten in her lap, her mind betraying her with images of Harry—standing in his kitchen, the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched over his toned arms, that damn crooked smile on his face.

Her face burned just thinking about him, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the memory of the vibrator on his couch kept flashing in her mind. She bit her lip, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the blanket draped across her lap.

It was reckless, she knew that. But the way he’d looked at her earlier..the way his green eyes had lingered, the way his voice had dipped when he said her name, it had left her feeling more restless than she wanted to admit.

Her hand slid lower, beneath the blanket, her breath catching as her fingers grazed her skin. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the fantasy. She pictured him leaning over her, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and teasing as he murmured her name.

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sound sent a shiver through her body.

On the other side of the wall, Harry froze. Their rooms must be back to back because he could now hear faint moans of Y/N.

He had just stepped out of his shower, towel slung around his hips, when the faint sound reached his ears. At first, he thought he was imagining things, but then it came again, soft, breathless, unmistakable. His name.

From Y/N’s apartment.

He stood there for a moment, completely still, his damp hair dripping onto his bare shoulders as he listened. The sound came again, and this time, there was no mistaking the hushed moan that followed.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.

It wasn’t intentional..he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But now that he’d heard it, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. The wall separating their apartments was thin enough to carry the faintest sounds, and the realization sent heat rushing through his body.

He leaned back against the wall, torn between guilt and an intense, undeniable arousal. He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the sound of her soft, needy gasps of her whispering his name was doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore.

Inside her apartment, Y/N was oblivious, completely lost in her own world. Her breathing quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she pushed two fingers in and out of her pussy and imagined his hands on her, his lips trailing down her neck, his voice rumbling in her ear as he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

“Harry,” she whimpered again, her body trembling as she edged closer to cumming.

He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. It was crossing a line, stepping into territory they hadn’t even begun to discuss. But the memory of her soft gasps, the thought of her lying in her bed, touching herself while thinking about him…

It was too much.

With a low groan, he grabbed his phone and scrolled to her name in his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button for a second before he muttered, “fuck it,” and pressed it.

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice was soft, hesitant, and he could hear the slight tremor in it, like she wasn’t sure why he was calling.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was…I’m awake,” she said quickly, though there was something breathless about her tone that told him she hadn’t quite recovered from what she’d been doing.

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Good. Because we need to talk.”

There was a pause, and he could almost feel her tension through the line. “About what?”

“About what I just heard,” he said, his voice dipping lower, more serious.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Oh my God,” Y/N finally said, her voice barely audible. “You heard that?”

“I did,” Harry admitted, his lips curving into a small smile despite himself. “Walls are thin, love.”

She groaned, and he could hear the embarrassment in the sound. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”

“But—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting her off again. “Listen to me. You don’t need to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not judging you.”

She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing on the other end of the line…quick, shallow, and uneven.

“Are you still in bed?” he asked, his voice softening.

“…yes,” she admitted after a moment.

“Good,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch. “Stay there for me.”

“Harry…”

“You were saying my name,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Weren’t you?”

Her breath hitched, and he smiled, knowing he’d caught her.

“I—”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone soothing but commanding. “You don’t have to lie. I liked it, Y/N. Hearing you like that…knowing you were thinking about me…”

Her breathing quickened, and he could almost picture her lying there, her cheeks flushed, her body tense with anticipation.

“Harry,” she said again, her voice a mix of nerves and something else..something needier.

“Let me help you,” he said, his hand drifting down to his cock as he spoke. “Let me show you how good it can feel. Can I do that?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she might say no. But then she whispered, “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he said, his voice like velvet. The words sent a thrill through him as much as they did her, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” he asked, his tone low and deliberate.

“No,” she admitted, her voice shaking slightly.

“Then start,” he said. “Slide your hand down, just like you were doing before.”

He waited, his own hand slipping below as he imagined her doing exactly what he’d asked.

“Touch your clit,” he murmured, his tone thick with heat. “I want to hear you as you feel the warmth of your own touch.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her body still trembling from the intensity of their conversation. But his voice was like a magnet, drawing her in, and before she knew it, her fingers were moving against her skin, tentative at first, then more sure of themselves as she followed his instructions.

“Good,” Harry whispered, his voice growing rougher. “Now, gently slide your fingers in and out, slowly. Feel every fucking inch.” “Good girl,” he murmured, his words sending a thrill through her. “Just like that. You’re so good for me, Y/N. I can hear how much you’re enjoying this.”

“Now add a third finger for me.”

She did as she was told, she let out a slightly louder moan this time.

“That’s it baby just like that. I know you can handle it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so desperate for my cock would you? How are you gonna take it all for me if you can’t even take three of your own fingers? That would just be pathetic.”

She breathes out as she fingers herself deeper, just trying to forget theyre her own and imagining his ringed ones instead. “Harry..”

“That’s right love just like that,”, he started moving his hand up and down his own cock, holding back moans. “You wanna come over to my apartment tomorrow? So I can actually fuck you good?”

She barely even comprehends what he’s saying with the feeling of being stuffed with three fingers, win the reassurance that soon it would be even more filling than that with his dick. All she can muster is a soft hum of affirmation.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yeah of course. Just text me what time.”

He sighs, adjusting himself to get more comfortable as he feels the orgasm coming. “I will. I’ll use that same vibrator on you then will you like that?”

“H-”

“And trust me it wasn’t the only thing I have at my house. I have a whole drawer you can have. Pick anything you want out of it tomorrow yeah, baby?”

“Yes Harry, fuck-oh god I’m cumming.”

“Just like that baby.”

Harry almost cums instantly as he hears her moans and then her clamming down afterwards, her breath heavy. And soon enough he does, groaning himself as the hot ropes shoot out of his cock to the towel now underneath him.

After everything settled into quiet, Harry’s voice, still thick with desire, came through once more.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and she could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “You did so well.” His words lingered in her ear, and she could feel the warmth of his praise seeping into her skin.

Y/N’s breath was still uneven as she slowly, hesitantly, lifted her fingers to her lips. “Lick them for me, love,” Harry coaxed, his voice soothing but laced with a hint of command.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the request sending a shiver down her spine, but the sound of his voice, so commanding yet affectionate, left no room for doubt. Slowly, her fingers moved to her lips, her tongue darting out to meet them, and as she did, a soft gasp left her mouth.

“Good girl,” Harry said, the words slipping out in a near whisper. “So good for me. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

The promise of tomorrow hung in the air between them, leaving her pulse racing, her thoughts swirling with the anticipation of what was to come.

“I’ll make sure we have a good time, baby,” Harry reassured her, his tone still warm and low. “You deserve it. You’re perfect.”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh of contentment, still basking in the afterglow of everything they’d just shared, and though she felt a lingering desire, she could also feel the weight of satisfaction in the quiet moment.

“I should let you go now,” Harry said, his voice now gentle, as if sensing her need to breathe. “But tomorrow, we’ll have all the time we need.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

“Goodnight, love,” he replied, his voice lingering in her ear as if he was right there with her. “Sleep well.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N with a soft smile on her lips, her body still buzzing from the connection they’d shared.

#harry styles #new writers on tumblr #fanfic #harry fluff #fluff #harries #reqs open #new writing blog #fluffy #smut #harry styles reader insert #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #requests open #x reader

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luvnanako · 2 days ago

Text

Helping Jinx ✮⋆˙

Jinx x F! Reader (wlw, fluff)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁---─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─---. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

"Okay, toots, now… gimme that little thingy with the blue stripes on the bottom." Jinx's voice rings out with her usual playful energy as she points vaguely toward a cluttered pile of tools and parts. It’s that time of the week again—helping your girlfriend build her chaotic little gadgets. And by "helping," she mostly means handing her whatever she needs while she dives headfirst into her creative frenzy.

From crafting monkey bombs, guns, and grenades to making ridiculously impractical things like tiny glowing lights, weird belts, and other odd tripnkets, her workshop is always buzzing with activity. Of course, in typical Jinx fashion, she always manages to find time to whip up something just for you, too.

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

You carefully pick up the item she asked for and place it on her crafting table with a soft thud. "Yeaah, that one!" she exclaims, tossing off her oversized goggles to give you a wide, mischievous grin. "Keep this up, and you might just earn some more kisses later," she adds, her tone dripping with her usual teasing charm.

You cross your arms, leaning casually against the table as you smirk at her. "What can I say? I'm a crafty one. At this rate, you might as well call me your most loyal servant," you reply, letting out a soft laugh and playfully winking at her.

Jinx picks up a pink marker from the side of her table, glancing at you with a mock serious expression. "Oh my god, what did you eat today? I think you might be sick, toots," she teases, sticking her tongue out as she starts doodling a little face on one of her monkey bombs.

"Yeah, well, I guess you’re just a bad influence on me," you quip back, laughing softly as you bump her shoulder.

Jinx gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "Who, me? Nuh-uh, I don’t know who you take me for, but I have nothing but an *amazing* influence on you." She finishes her drawing with a flourish, spinning the bomb around to show you. "What do you think? Pretty sweet, right?"

You lean in closer, pretending to examine her work critically. "Looks good, but maybe add a little heart on it," you suggest with a grin.

Without hesitation, Jinx grabs a blue marker and draws a small heart on the bomb, then scribbles both your initials inside it. "Voilà! Perfect now!" she declares, beaming with pride.

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm as you step behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your chin on her shoulder. "I wouldn’t actually mind getting bombed by this one," you say, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek and giggling.

Jinx chuckles, tilting her head back to look at you. "Be careful what you wish for," she says with a smirk, puckering her lips dramatically.

You roll your eyes but lean down to give her a quick peck. "Awhh, come on, toots, you can do better than that," she pouts, her lips curling into a playful little frown as she looks up at you with wide, cat-like eyes.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "You’re such a brat, you know that?"

"And you *love* it," she shoots back, grinning as she spins her chair around to face you, grabbing your hand to pull you closer.

Jinx pulls you closer until your knees bump into hers, her wild grin softening into something almost tender. "Admit it," she whispers, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur, "you'd be bored out of your mind without me."

You arch an eyebrow, smirking as you look down at her. "Oh, absolutely. My life would be so dull without the constant threat of explosions and chaos."

Jinx lets out a loud laugh, leaning back in her chair as she spins in a slow circle, arms out dramatically. "Exactly! I'm your spark, toots. Your chaos. Your muse!"

You shake your head, trying not to laugh as she grabs your hand mid-spin to stop herself. The motion pulls you closer until you’re standing between her legs. For a moment, the energy in the room shifts, the buzz of her gadgets and tools fading into the background.

Jinx looks up at you with a crooked smile, her fingers still loosely wrapped around yours. "You know," she says softly, "I don’t let just anyone into my workshop. You're kinda special."

Your chest tightens at her sudden sincerity, but you don’t let her get away with it too easily. "Special enough for you to put our initials on a bomb?" you tease, gesturing to the monkey bomb she decorated.

"Exactly," she replies with a wink. "That’s how you know it’s true love."

You laugh, shaking your head as you lean down to press your forehead against hers. "You’re impossible," you murmur, smiling.

"And you’re stuck with me," she counters, her voice light but filled with meaning.

"Yeah," you whisper, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

Jinx's smirk grows, and before you can say anything else, she grabs the monkey bomb from the table, holding it up proudly. "Now let’s go see if this baby works!"

You groan, stepping back as she hops to her feet, her excitement practically vibrating off her. "I’m starting to rethink this whole 'helping you' thing," you say, but your smile betrays you.

"Too late, toots!" she calls over her shoulder, already bounding toward the door. "You’re in this with me now!"

And just like that, you find yourself chasing after her, laughing as she drags you into another whirlwind of chaos and invention—because that’s what life with Jinx is all about.

૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა

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A/N heyyyy I'm currently making Caitlyn vampire au 2nd part so I made this one as a little filler! I hope you enjoyed reading this and I'm so so sooo grateful for all the feedback!

#jinx arcane #jinx #lesbian #arcane #wlw #arcane fanfic #fluff #oneshot #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #arcane fluff #jinx fanfic #gl

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urbaebarnes · 1 day ago

Text

flowers

summary: who'd ever imagine that the big bad mob boss would be such a softie when it comes to a defiant flower shop owner

mob boss bucky barnes x fem flower shop owner reader

warnings: curse words, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n (thats it I think?)

this is my first fic i'm actually putting on here and i'm scared icl

word count: 4.7k words

This shop was everything to you. You’d bought it just under a month ago, the old owner was more than happy to hand over the keys, something about having family in a different state. The walls that were once decorated in peeling wallpaper were now filled with flowers, arranged on different shelves.

Sure, it took a few weeks to fix up, but after only a few days, business was bustling. Old couples came in to pick some tulips to brighten their sitting rooms, teenagers picked bouquets of roses and lilies for their first dates, it was just as you’d imagined.

The area was lovely too, the owner of the bakery from the other side of the street was a frequent visitor. You quickly became friends, Wanda would often buy flowers from your store and set them on her counter, and you would always buy your lunch from her, bringing back pastries and cupcakes to eat in your quieter moments.

The only strange thing you’d noticed was the kid who seemed to linger out the front of your store. He couldn’t be more than nineteen, and he often paced out the front of the store, head down as he paced back and forth, as if rehearsing a speech. At first, you’d figured he must just be anxious, but as he returned for the fourth time, your concern grew.

Truth be told, everybody you’d met so far had been so kind, asking how you were, checking up on you. Wanda was always especially adamant about asking if you’d seen anybody suspicious during the day and messaging you on a night to make sure you’d locked all your doors and windows. You’d never bothered to mention the kid outside, he still looked like a baby really and didn’t seem as though he would cause any harm.

The fourth day he appeared outside was different though. As soon as you opened the shutters of the shop, he was on the other side of the street dressed in all black, leaning against a building as he looked down at his phone. He hadn’t been here this early before. In the first hour of the sign on your door reading ‘open’, he moved around, inching closer but still not close enough. That was until mid-day.

After waving off the last person from the store, you were free to sit down on the swivel chair in the corner and let your eyes rest just for a second. A car alarm had been going off all night about a street away from your apartment about the bakery meaning you hadn’t caught a wink of sleep. However, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last long as the small bell you’d installed above the door rang out again.

You quickly stood up, placing a smile on your face as you turned, unable to see the visitor due to the arrangement you had in the middle of the store. You walked through the plants, frowning as you noticed a particularly droopy looking fressia. “Hello, are you looking for anything…” Your voice trailed off as you took in the visitor. The kid from outside, his hood now up as he pinched at his fingers. “...in particular?”

He looked up, hand going to lower his hood before seemingly second guessing the action and lowering his hand so it now hovered awkwardly by his head. “Erm, I’m P- wait no, I’m not supposed to introduce myself.” You frowned as he muttered, scrunching his face. “I’m here on behalf of the Barnes family. We’re aware you recently moved to the area and we’re… we offer, uhm, we offer protection for a price.” His voice got progressively quieter the more he talked.

“I’m sorry, who are the Barnes family, do they need flowers for something?” You questioned, eyebrows hunched together as the kid groaned.

“No, no it’s, we’re like, has nobody really told you about this? You’ve been here a few weeks now and-” He stopped seeing as you shrugged and he seemed to say "Bad things happen to people who don’t pay us, okay?”

“But why am I paying you?”

“For protection.” He reiterated.

“Protection from whom?” You asked, fiddling with the corner of your cardigan sleeve.

“Us and them, the other mobs, mostly the other guys, well sort of, sometimes the boss-”

“You’re in a mob?” You cut him off mid sentence as you took him in. His hands were now awkwardly stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie, eyes wide as he looked at you. “How old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

His face flushed pink as he yanked his hood down, “No, we… this is my first job and I’m supposed to collect the first amount today, and if I don’t then I don’t-”

You sighed, picking up an arrangement from the left of you and placing the pot in his hands, pausing his rambling. “Look, I’m not paying you anything. Take the flowers, they’re on the house I guess, I can protect myself, kid.” You smiled sincerely as you placed your hands on his shoulders ,which had hunched up towards his head, and led him out of the shop. “Have a nice day!” You said cheerily as he landed on the pavement, blinking in confusion as you waved and let the blue door shut.

You took a deep breath in as you flipped the small sign in the glass window around to show you were closed before shaking your head. You distracted yourself from the fact you apparently needed protection by clipping the fressia from before, reopening the store half an hour later.

Wanda found herself in your shop as you were both closing up that night, a bag of leftovers in her hand as she opened the door, meeting you with a smile. “Where were you today?” She questioned, placing the bag down on the countertop. “You haven’t found somewhere better for lunch have you?”

You appeared from the back quickly, a smile forming at the smell of the baked goods. “Of course not, just had a weird… thing happen over lunch.”

Her ever present grin dropped at that, “Oh yeah, who was it?” She asked cautiously, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

After rifling through the bag to find a cookie, you glanced up at her, “Somebody about protection or something like that.” You quickly dismissed it with a shake of your head, but Wanda continued to watch you carefully.

“You agreed, right?”

You screwed up your face at her, taking a bite from one of the cookies, “No, obviously not, I can protect myself.” Her mouth fell open as you groaned at the baked goods. “This is so good, Wan!”

“Uh uh.” She shook her head, glancing out the window as she said your name once over, “You can’t protect yourself from these people, the last dude that owned this place missed out on two payments so he sold this place to pay it off and left as quick as possible.”

“Well, these people haven’t met me yet, and I’m not paying them shit.” She sighed again, taking the bag off the counter and turning towards the door, “Hey, where’re you going?”

“You’re staying at mine tonight.” She declared. “Close up the shop and lock everything, I mean it.”

[⭐]

“I’m so sorry Mr Barnes, I don’t even know what happened, I just, she gave me the flowers and I-”

Peter stood in the centre of the room, eyes wide and frantic as he obviously feared getting into trouble with his boss. After all, Bucky Barnes wasn’t somebody you wanted to dislike you.

In fact, Bucky Barnes wasn’t somebody most wanted to be associated with. He was feared by most, including most of his people. He was known for being ruthless and cold blooded, a job was a job in his eyes.

Which is what made Peter so twitchy, this was his first time going on a mission and even though he wasn’t necessarily sure about what to do or how to intimidate people, it seemed he’d drawn the short stick and had been handed with a defiant mission. People who went against Barnes’ orders didn’t usually end up in a good condition, sometimes there wasn’t a condition at all.

“Peter.” He shut up quickly as Bucky said his name, fingers massaging his temple. “So she just… gave you flowers and you left?” His voice drawled around the empty room as he leant back into his chair. His frown was deep, people didn’t usually say no to this sort of thing, and whether he could pin it on Peter’s age or this woman’s sheer pride, he couldn’t tell.

“Well, she put her hands on my shoulders and like, walked me out of there?” Peter questioned his own words as his head tilted, “She told me she wouldn’t pay us but the flowers were on the house, so, there’s that.”

Steve couldn’t hold in a chuckle as he looked to Bucky, “I can go down tomorrow if you want.” He offered, white teeth flashing in a smile. Steve was the only person Bucky trusted- really trusted. This had all been passed down to him, this life had all been in his family for generations, but Steve didn’t know that when they were children, neither of them had any idea what his father was up to, and more importantly, Steve had no idea who Bucky would become.

Their friendship was genuine, something that had become a rarity as time went on and they grew up.

He shook his head, taking a sip of amber from the glass, “I’ll handle it.”

“Buck,” Steve started, raising his eyebrows, “I don’t think-”

“It’s been quiet, and I’m getting bored of sitting in this room all day. It’ll do some good for me.” He downed the rest of his drink as Steve nodded, Peter still stood, hands fidgeting. “Peter, go home, get some rest. I’m going to partner you with someone more senior next time. Maybe Stark?” He mumbled the last part to himself as Peter opened the mahogany doors and made himself scarce.

Bucky lent across the table, sliding the photo of your shop into his view as he squinted, seeing your figure through the window, standing with a customer, holding up a bouquet. He flipped it over, tracing the information for your name, running it over his tongue once.

“I don’t think she’ll agree easily.” Steve stated, eyes flickering over your picture, “Sounded pretty stubborn according to Peter.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, standing up from his chair. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

[⭐]

Wanda was reluctant to even let you leave her apartment that morning, let alone go across the street, but you’d quickly reassured her that you would be fine. In fact, you’d be more than fine, the bat by your desk and nine years of karate weren't for nothing after all.

It had been a normal day, sweet customers, one angry woman who found flowers from your shop her husband had bought for his side piece, the usual, and no sight of the kid. Wanda came to check on you every hour, leaving her brother, Pietro, in charge of the tills, even though he mostly just flirted with the customers in her absence.

But seemingly, trouble had latched itself onto your door and by the time three o’clock struck, disaster came calling. You first noticed something was happening when the couple you were talking to exited the shop, stopping your conversation. Then, the others all filtered out with wide eyes until it was just you and a single other man in the shop.

His hair was combed back, jacket thrown over a button up shirt left unbuttoned at the top. As you approached him, he fiddled with an alstroemeria between his thumb and forefinger. The door shut as the last customer shut it behind them.

He turned to face you with a smirk, faltering slightly as he took in your appearance, the flower in between his thumb and forefinger pausing as he looked you up and down. You looked backwards towards the door, exasperated at the sudden abandonment of your shop. “Hi there, is there anything I can help you with, Sir?” You asked with a wary smile, eyes flickering to where you know you kept your bat.

He was a handsome man, you’d be blind not to notice that, in fact, as your eyes met his steel blue ones, you felt your breath escape you for a second. His voice was deep as he said your name, never tearing his eyes from yours, “You have a lovely place here.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, feeling yourself relax a little as a smile clawed at the corner of his lips. “It’s still new, but it’s going good so far.” He hummed, staring intently at your face as you shifted on your feet, face flushing at the attention. “Is there anything that’s caught your eye?”

He blinked twice quickly, the hint of a smile playing at his lips quickly dropping, “I’m not here about the flowers, sugar.”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name before frowning, processing his words. “If you're here about the kid yesterday, I’m going to tell you the exact same thing, I’m afraid.” You pursed your lips, “I can look after myself.”

“I don’t think you really understand.” He said, taking a step closer.

“I think I do, and if that’s all you're here for, I suggest you leave quickly.”

He looked down at you, watching as your breath hitched at the proximity, “There are bad things that happen around here, bad people that do bad things. All you have to do is pay me and I make sure you're safe, doll. That’s how it works around here.”

His head bent down as you looked up at him, swallowing and holding your nerve, “What, you gonna hurt me?”

He frowned at that, something that you didn’t fully expect after what the kid had said yesterday. You were expecting a laugh or something, not for his forehead to crease and eyebrows to pull together. “No, no. Couldn’t ruin a pretty face like that.” He seemed to catch himself as he stared at your lips, raising his head and taking a step back, face returning to a neutral expression as you could see the cogs turning in his head.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m still not going to pay you.”

The bell on the door rang as Wanda’s voice rang out, “You all-”

You turned around to see Wanda stood, a foot in the door as she stared at the two of you, eyes narrowed at the man in front of you.

He looked between you and Wanda, tongue in cheek before stepping further away from you, still clutching the flower as he made his way out the door, Wanda side-stepped out of his way as he looked at the flower, glancing back at you in the doorway. “Be careful.”

His voice held a sort of sincerity you weren’t expecting, a warning but not necessarily meant towards him. The door shut as Wanda quickly hurried over to you, “Shit, holy fucking shit, please tell me you agreed to pay them.”

You frowned as he disappeared from your sight through the window before looking back to Wanda, “Huh?”

She cursed under her breath once more, “That was Bucky Barnes, you know that right?” Your eyes squinted in recognition at the surname. “That’s the guy you're supposed to be paying, and he did a home visit, he doesn’t do that. He has people to do that for him, Jesus Christ, please tell me you just nodded along.”

You shook your head, letting out a shocked laugh, “No, I said the same thing as yesterday. I won’t be bullied into paying him, no Wanda!” She groaned loudly as your speech, hand resting on the top of her hair, “He didn’t seem, I don’t know, threatening or whatever.”

Wanda quickly studied your face, hands resting on your shoulders, “Nope, that is a mob boss, we are not doing the whole cutesy blushing over a man in a suit.” She gently shook your shoulders as you laughed.

“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head with a smile, picking a flower from that morning’s delivery that you hadn’t had a chance to sort through yet and placing it in her hair, smiling as she gave you a knowing look.

It was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous how you just couldn’t stop thinking about that goddamn flower, or more importantly, how it looked in between his fingers. How the bright colours offset his dark suit, the grin on his lips as he looked at you with the sort of intensity that made your stomach feel like it was on the verge of erupting. And his eyes, oh the eyes spoke for themselves. Every movement, every thought could be seen just by the smallest of movements.

He had perfect eyes, you thought.

You blinked at the sound of Wanda’s voice, snapping from your gaze as she stood at the door, “I have to get back before Pietro offers to take somebody else on a ‘private tour’ around the bakery.” She rolled her eyes as you could just make out her brother through the window, staring at a woman intently as he leant up against the counter, arms crossed.

“Have fun!” You teased as you watched her walk across the street, wrapping her long, multicoloured cardigan around her body.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to him and the way his voice sounded and the way he walked and the way he looked- everything about him, truthfully. Every time you heard the bell chime, a part of you hoped it would be him, even if that probably didn’t mean anything remotely good.

Instead, you helped a woman -Natasha - pick out some flowers for her sister, who’d just moved into a new apartment somewhere downtown, and a girl named Kate who’d broken something or other valuable of her mother’s and thought flowers might soften the blow. And who could forget your favourite customer, Stan, an elderly man who came in mostly just for a chat, but also to pick out his own flowers and have her arrange them as they talked over a tub of biscuits.

But none of them could fully distract you, not even when Wanda forced you to sleep over at hers, or her and Pietro’s constant bickering over what TV show they should watch, even though they both know he’d give in eventually and agree to whatever Wanda wanted. And especially not as you lied on a mattress in Wanda’s room, her soft breathing the only sound that filled the room as your imagination went wild, your mind filling with what you would do or say if he appeared on your doorstep the next morning, or even right now, and what if he was wearing a giant croissant costume, and what if he had a pet iguana named Tom, and what if Tom could talk…

Eventually, you drifted off with the promise of Bucky Barnes showing up at your shop’s door dressed in all manner of strange costumes with a whole gang of talking animal sidekicks.

Yet, when you exited the bakery the next morning and found an all too familiar looking man standing outside, glancing at his watch every few seconds, you were all but too sure that he could show up in a tracksuit and cap and your stomach would still make the strange fluttery feeling. It didn’t really matter about his costume or masses of talking pets, your excitement seemed to rest in seeing him.

“The shop doesn’t open for another half an hour, Mr Barnes.” You said as you walked across the street, feeling for your keys in your pocket.

His head raised at the sound of your voice, a wide smile adorning his features, saying your name like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. “You sure you can’t let me in a smidge early.” He held his fingers up, pinching them fairly close together as you paused opening the door.

“That depends, are you here to buy flowers or here to tell me to pay you?” You questioned, letting your keychain rattle against the door. He felt closer than he actually was as you let your tongue run over your tongue.

He seemed to smirk at your question, tilting his head so you could see him from the corner of your eye, looking you up and down once, “Well, what if I just wanted to come see you?” He asked, shifting on his feet as he let his hands bury themselves in his pockets, eyes never straying from the side of your face.

“And why would you wanna do that?” You challenged, keeping your face forward as he neared your ear, trying to keep your smile at bay and breaths even. He was supposed to be the big bad wolf, so why couldn’t he stop making your heart beat faster than a race car?

It wasn’t even as if he was your type. Back home, you’d dated the perfect jock, high school football team captain, straight A student and hair reminiscent of the sun. That was until he broke your heart into a million pieces and you’d sworn off men after graduation and after years of saving, you’d finally moved here. Yet here you were, feeling as though his stare could make you melt into a puddle.

“Maybe because I couldn’t keep your pretty face out of my dreams.” He smiled, lips close to your ear as his warm breath fanned your face, the cool temperature finally catching up to you as you tugged on the sleeves of your jacket and unlocked the door with a twist of your keys.

“We open in half an hour Mr Barnes.” You giggle as you slip inside, watching through the window as his mouth formed a small circle before licking his lips and waving at you through the glass as you shut the blinds, disappearing around the arrangements and resting your arms on the desk.

Breathe, you repeat to yourself, it’s not as if the guy you only met yesterday just tried to flirt with you. And it’s not as if he’s currently standing outside.

Oh you were screwed.

By the time it came to opening, you opened the blinds, finding him leant against the wall beside the window outside, looking down at his watch again. He turned to you almost immediately, tugging down his sleeve as you flipped the sign over, signalling you were open as he pretended to queue in front of the door, rocking back and forth on his feet as you opened the door with a grin.

“You’re thirty-two seconds late, doll.” He smirked, biting his bottom lip as you moved to one side to let him in. He thanked you politely as he stepped in, inhaling deeply as you watched him expectantly, the door shutting. “I do have a bone to pick with you.”

He leant up against the wall as you swallowed thickly. Truth be told, your pride wasn;t the only reason you were against paying him, between bills and running the shop, after your first week, you weren’t exactly in a position to be giving anybody anything.

“It’s not about money, don’t you worry about that.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, shaking his head as he saw your worried expression. “You’ve picked up a nasty habit of calling me Mr Barnes.” He said the name mockingly, pushing off the wall and taking a step closer to you.

You struggled to hide your surprise. Wanda had definitely said Bucky Barnes, that had been his name, you were sure of it. “My friend Wanda said that you-”

“Well, your friend Wanda isn’t you.” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder, his fingers going to the collar of your t-shirt and fiddling with the hem, “You call me Bucky.”

You were lost for words as you took in the name. You absentmindedly leant into his touch on your shoulder. He hummed in response, letting his thumb run over your shoulder. “That seems awfully informal for a man who was attempting to get me to pay him yesterday.”

He paused, absorbing your words, seemingly surprised by your response. “I like that about you.” Bucky stated, hand pausing as he attempted to find your eyes which still avoided his, instead tracing over the shelves behind him. “You’re not afraid to speak your mind, but I guess it makes it better when you have a voice as sweet as yours.”

You look down, lips struggling not to grin widely at his flirty comments, instead you bite the inside of your cheek before glancing back up at him. “So you’re not here to try and sweet talk me into paying you?”

He chuckled at that, and god was his laugh something you’d try to commit to memory. “That’s what my people think I’m here to do.”

“Well, what do you think you’re here to do?” You were careful to keep your voice levelled.

“I think I’m here to see a beautiful flower shop owner-” His voice trailed off as the doorbell chimed and you took a step back seeing the girl from yesterday, Kate, walk in. Your body missed his hand on your shoulder instantly, but you forced your legs to move anyway, rounding the corner to see her in a long purple coat.

“I’m gonna need more flowers.” She stated with a sigh as you laughed softly at her annoyed expression. You showed her to a small section, spotting Bucky watching you intently from the corner behind Kate.

He was holding two bouquets of flowers, one in each hand as they nearly covered his face. You shook your head, telling Kate you’d be back in a minute before wandering over to his side. “Are you using them to hide behind or are you making a purchase?” You questioned with a light laugh seeing his chin poke up between the two.

“I’m making a purchase, doll. Thought these would brighten up my kitchen nicely.” He exclaimed with a smile, walking over to your desk with the till on it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be collecting my money, not giving me it?” You asked hesitantly as he put the flowers down on the desk and rummaged through his pocket for a wallet before holding his hand full of far too much cash out to you. It was more than enough for the two bouquets, probably more than enough for ten, and as much as you weren’t one for turning down generous amounts, this all felt a little too good to be true.

“What did I say earlier, sugar, you don’t need to worry about that money thing, I’ll take care of it, on one condition.” He added the last part in a whisper as you took the money and put it in the till, leaning against the counter with a small smile on your face.

“And what’s that, Mr Barnes?” You asked, squinting playfully at him as he picked up the colourful bouquets.

“You have to call me Bucky.”

You laughed, standing up from the counter, “Okay then, Bucky.”

His head leant backwards as you said his name, scrunching his nose as he grinned, “You say it like that and I might just have to come back.”

You walked towards the door with him, silently offering to carry one of the bouquets as you outstretched your hands, but he quickly shook his head and insisted he could do it himself until you finally got to the door, holding it open so he could exit. “Whatever you say, Bucky.”

His grin was impossibly wide as he turned backwards on the sidewalk, parting the flowers as much as possible to spot you through the masses of colours. “I’ll see you soon, doll.” He said, turning around and walking back down the street. He looked quite the sight, carrying the abundances of flowers down the path until you couldn’t spot him anymore, leaving you wondering how exactly he was going to get anywhere if he had to carry them all the way.

You let the door shut as you shook your head to yourself. “Who was that?” Kate asked curiously, wiggling her eyebrows as you grinned, hand tracing over your shoulder where his had been moments ago.

“Bucky.”

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #james bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fluff #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au

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lilimaginebean · 2 days ago

Text

five days - 五日

synopsis: in which Kaiser fell in love with his tattoo artist or in which Kaiser had five appointments to convince you to have a date with him.

note: i needed to rewrite this part three times, since it didn’t convinced me.

prev | next

🥀 Day 1

"Are you sure you can do this? You seem pretty young to be doing tattoos," you gave Kaiser the deadliest look, making him giggle like a teenage girl trying to attract the attention of the person who likes her.

You decided to continue with all the preparations, ignoring this pertinent question. Kaiser was a bitch, from now on you would have to ask him more formally, or he would find a way to give it back to you.

"For your information, I'm only a year older. However, I'm old enough for you to show me some respect, spoilt brat," you said in a funny tone.

"Whatever you want, Liebling," he replied, staring at you, hypnotised by the way you worked on his tattoo with such grace and precision.

That famous Monday at 4PM, Kaiser, being the good German that he was, arrived at the studio five minutes early. His excuse was that he had a lot to do and the sooner you could do it the better, his truth was that he wanted to see you again as soon as possible.

Kaiser wasn't the type to think about relationships, he always had better things to worry about. But now that he was considered a German wunderkind, he lived a quiet life, waiting for a good offer from a famous and prestigious club. He would wake up, take a shower, look in the mirror and go to training. Then he would have a meal, time to relax and personal training.

He practically had a life now that he couldn't have dreamed of a few years ago, and even though he wasn't on the best of terms with his teammates, they could still make small talk. Being the teenagers they were, the subject of romantic relationships always came up, and as always, Kaiser just kept quiet, having little experience in that area. Good for him, he never worried about it, he knew he would know when the time came.

But he never expected it to happened when he walked into the tattoo studio which was the closest to his apartment. When he saw you, he didn’t find you relevant at all. However, the way you looked at him and answered him in such a witty tone made him realise that you could be his potential partner.

He had just 5 appointments to see if you could be someone he could see his future with, or if it was just something he made up in his head. The requirements were: pretty, smart and someone who could love him.

Kaiser stared at you, the way you frowned and the way you stuck out your tongue to concentrate. You were pretty, not in the way that makes people turn around the first time they see you. You were pretty in a way that the more he saw you, the more he was captivated. So yes, he was sure you had ticked the first box. Now he had to tick the other two boxes.

"Have you ever read Freud?" Kaiser asked directly, without beating around the bush. You stared at him, blinked twice in surprise at the question.

"Mhm... kinda, I guess you are a Freud fan," you said indifferently and went on with your work.

"Oh, not a fan of Freud because you're not smart enough to read him, Liebling?" he said, trying to embarrass you. You chuckled in reply.

"You wish, it's just not my type of writer. I'm more into depressed writers," you confessed, staring at him for his reaction, "What can I say? I am a masochist"

Kaiser leaned closer.

"Well, I highly recommend you read more about Freud, he is the father of psychoanalysis," he said, still staring at you. You looked at him for a moment before continuing with the tattoo.

“I know, I read Freud’s book The interpretation of dreams. However, I don’t know, he doesn’t convinced me as a writer” you admitted while shrugging your shoulders “But hey, at least he always kept things psych-edelic” you laughed at your own pun

Kaiser skipped a heartbeat. Did you just make such a bad pun? He was disgusted by such a lame joke, but he was even more disgusted that he laughed with you.

"Okay, we just finished the first session. Opinions?" you said as you started to tidy up and get everything ready for the next client.

Kaiser just stared at his hand, satisfied with how everything was going. Not just with the tattoo, but with you.

"Pretty great, but I might have a couple of suggestions," Kaiser said, just to have a bit of fun with you.

“Shoot” you arched an eyebrow, curious

He stood up and looked at you, sure of one thing.

“You should totally go out with me”

#blue lock #bllk #bllk imagines #bllk x you #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #bluelock

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folkwhoreberry · 2 days ago

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I've a request for Percy Jackson as punishment for you deleting your drafts, something where Percy does little things for the reader? For example, drying her hair after she gets out of the shower, putting food on her plate, small and simple things, but things very cute😊↕️🤍

Mr. Jackson To Your Service

percy jackson x reader

or... the one where you’re obsessed with capri sun

word count : 969

warning : none omg who would believe that, english is not my first language!!!

🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙🍓 🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙

🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊

lunch time.

who would’ve thought that getting hundreds of hungry teenagers with powers in one place is a good idea?

either way, it is what it is and you’re not planning on starving. but fate has other plans for you, like having the scary ares kids standing in front of your favourite food, blocking your path.

and that’s how you ended up sitting in a corner table with percy, your plate only carrying a few pieces of veggies with a side of capri sun.

“why don’t you have anything on your plate, angel?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion as he saw how little food you had on your plate. “uhh, ‘m not really hungry.” you mumbled, tossing one of the veggie pieces around your plate with your fork.

percy tilted his head, his lips curling into a playful smirk. “not hungry? I thought I saw you eating an entire pizza two days ago, no problem. what happened to that appetite of yours?”

you shrugged, poking at the broccoli. “I guess today’s just one of those days.”

he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “are you sure it’s not because you’re avoiding the ares kids? I mean, you did seem pretty eager to steer clear of them.”

you snorted. “it’s not that bad, percy. they’re just… uh, intimidating. doesn’t help that they think they’re better than everyone else.” you took a sip of your capri sun, trying to act casual.

percy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “right. I’m gonna go get you something, angel.” he said, getting up before you can even react, leaving you sitting there, your face dumbfounded.

after a few minutes, he came back with a plate full of pasta with the white sauce, and yet another capri sun. just like he had promised.

——————

after the long day of activities, you finally made your way back to your cabin, completely drained. after a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in your towel and stepped out, only to see percy waiting in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall.

“you okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when he noticed your wet hair. “need a hand with that, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. “really? you’re gonna stand there like you’re some kind of hair stylist?”

“well, I mean, I have a lot of experience handling water,” he said, gesturing toward himself. “being the son of poseidon and all. so, yeah. I think I can help.”

you raised an eyebrow. “are you seriously gonna dry my hair for me?”

percy gave a dramatic sigh, as if you were making him perform some kind of great sacrifice. “I mean, I guess I have no choice now.” he paused. “unless you want to go to bed with wet hair. then I’ll leave you to your doom.”

you giggled, rolling your eyes again, but agreed. “fine. do your worst, seaweed brain.”

a few minutes later, you were sitting on your bed while percy wielded a hairdryer like he was in the middle of some grand mission. he was being unreasonably serious about it, and it took everything in you not to laugh at his overly focused expression.

“you know, percy,” you said in an exaggerated voice, “I feel like I’m in the presence of greatness right now.”

“you should,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m literally the best at this. I should add ‘professional hairdryer wielder’ to my resume.”

you couldn’t help it anymore, bursting into laughter. “you’re ridiculous.”

he grinned, proud of himself. “and don’t you forget it. all in a day’s work, saving the world and drying your hair. I’m a multitasker.”

when he finally finished, he gave a small bow, proud of his work. “there you go. all set, angel.”

you looked at your reflection in the mirror, surprised at how good your hair looked—no frizz, no mess. percy had somehow managed to do a better job than you could’ve hoped. “wow, you’re actually good at this.”

“told you,” he said, giving you a playful wink.

——————

you were heading to mr. d’s office to complain about something when you spotted percy walking towards you, looking way too smug for his own good.

“what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in twine. “I made something for you.”

you took it from him, unwrapping it carefully. inside was a tiny wooden necklace, the pendant shaped like a trident with delicate waves etched into the surface. it was small but thoughtful, and your heart skipped a beat.

“percy, you actually made this?” you asked, your voice soft.

“yep. I thought it might be… kind of cool? and, you know, I’m getting pretty good with a knife.” he scratched the back of his neck, his usual cocky grin replaced by a slight blush. “I know it’s not the best thing in the world, but… I thought you might like it.”

you were completely speechless for a moment, your heart swelling. “percy, it’s perfect. I love it.” you carefully slid the necklace around your neck, admiring it for a moment. “thank you.”

“well, you know… anything for you,” he said, his voice softening, and for a second, he looked so uncharacteristically sincere that it made your heart flutter. “I’d do anything to make you smile.”

“you already do,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “yeah, angel? I do?” he said with a smirk, making you him and nod.

“well, what else can I do to make you smile, m’lady?” he teased, putting one of his hands behind his back as he held your hand in his other, bowing down jokingly as he gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, just over your knuckles.

“mmhh.. get me a capri sun.”

————————————————————————————

a/n : hi hello I am currently craving capri sun but unfortunately it costs 0.5$ and I do NOT have that kind of money to spend in the school cafeteria💔

#folkwhoreberry #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n

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tortillamastersblog · 9 hours ago

Text

Back To You - Part 16 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

A/N: Fair warning there might be a couple of typos and shit in this part because I’m too tired to proofread properly

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

The door of the theater falls shut behind us with a loud bang and I can’t stop myself from flinching ever so slightly.

Sam squeezes my hand and I squeeze back, letting my eyes roam around the room.

Nothing’s changed since the last time we were here and I cringe once again at the sight of the mannequins on the stage dressed in the old Ghostface cloaks.

It’s eerily quiet, but the knowledge that backup is ready to jump in and help us when Kirby gives them a signal brings me some sense of peace.

When Sam and I came out of the bathroom earlier Bailey had left to go to the station which gave me the chance to pull Kirby aside and tell her about what we figured out while Sam distracted the others, especially Ethan who kept looking at me with his big doe eyes.

She believed me instantly and we quickly came to the conclusion that in order to end this we either have to kill Bailey, Quinn, and Ethan, or get a confession out of them, so they go to prison for the rest of their lives.

I opted for the latter because I’m sick of people dying, but we agreed that should anything go wrong, we will kill them.

We also agreed that the less people are involved the better, so Kirby called the hospital Anika is at and convinced them to call Mindy in Anika’s name, saying she wanted to see her girlfriend.

We tried to come up with a plan to get Chad out of the way as well, but nothing came to mind, which is why he’s here with us now.

Danny’s also here, but we left him outside under the guise of needing someone to call for help in case something goes wrong.

He doesn’t know that the FBI is already stationed nearby, waiting to be called in by Kirby.

Sam, Kirby, and I are the only ones who know and even though I wanted to tell Tara and Chad, I never got the chance because we were never alone.

At first, Danny and Ethan were with us, and then it was just Danny because I managed to prevent Ethan from getting on the same subway as us by shoving a stranger in his way.

I’m sure he’ll be here soon though, just like Bailey who’s in on the “plan”.

We told him we wanted to trap Ghostface and execute him which he immediately agreed to since he doesn’t know we know about him yet.

He was super supportive and even told us to use public transport to avoid getting targeted, and if I didn’t know better I would have actually believed that he was concerned.

I still don’t know why he, Quinn, and Ethan are doing all this, but I guess we’ll find out sooner.

“I cleared the whole place before you got here,” Kirby says, turning to face us. “This—“ she nods her head at the door we just came in through, “—is the only way in or out.”

“What about weapons?” Sam asks, her hand still in mine.

Tara is holding onto Chad’s arm, nodding along to what Sam just asked.

“One gun and I hold onto it,” Kirby lies. She slipped me a knife earlier when I told her about what we found out.

It’s tucked into the waistband of my pants, hidden by my sweater, and not even Sam knows about it.

I know right now would probably be a good time to come clean and tell Chad and Tara everything we know (and tell Sam about the knife), but we can’t be sure that this place isn’t bugged.

“I’m the only one with a badge, so that’s the way it’s going to be,” Kirby says when the others look at her in disbelief. “We’re safe here,” she adds and even though I know the FBI is on standby outside, I’m still not entirely convinced. There’s three Ghostfaces and four of us, and they’re all armed.

This is going to be fun. . .

I wish we’d had more time to plan, because this is all super reckless, but we can’t risk someone else getting hurt, so it will have to do.

The others look skeptical, too, but no one voices their concerns and a moment later Sam’s phone rings. She disconnects our hands and pulls it out of her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees that it’s Mindy who’s calling her.

She glances at me and I dip my chin, wordlessly telling her to answer it.

“Mindy? Hey, you okay?” she says. She walks off in search of better reception and I let her be, turning to Chad and Tara who are eyeing the glass display cases with disgust while Kirby makes her own way through the theater, looking at everything with her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sprout. . . Chad,” I say quietly, approaching them. They turn with furrowed eyebrows and smile weakly when they see me.

“Y/N.” Chad exhales sharply and I squeeze his arm reassuringly.

“You guys okay?” I ask.

Tara shakes her head and hugs me while Chad grimaces. “Not really,” she whispers. “I’m scared.”

I sigh and hold her closer. “Yeah, me too.”

“Same. . .” Chad watches us with a forlorn look and I chuckle softly before pulling him into the hug as well.

“You’ll be okay. Both of you, I promise.” I press a kiss to the top of Tara’s head and nudge Chad.

They both shudder and tighten the hug before my phone rings and I’m forced to pull away.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I pull it out of my pocket, but then the sight of Paige’s name flashing across the screen makes me relax again.

It’s not Ghostface, Y/N. Calm down.

“Paige, hey. Everything okay? Are you in the city yet?”

Despite the situation, Paige laughs softly. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m not in the city yet, I still have two hours to go. I’m just calling to tell you that the hospital called.”

The tentative smile that pulled at my lips just a second ago vanishes and I tighten my grip on the phone. “A-and?”

“Lee’s still in surgery, but he’s stable.”

Tears prick at my eyes and I spin around to avoid Tara’s and Chad’s concerned looks. “Okay, that’s good. That’s really good.”

I swallow thickly to get rid of the growing lump in my throat and Paige sighs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, it is. . . so what about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but—“

The lights turn off and the call disconnects. A scream pierces through the silent theater and I whirl around.

Tara.

She and Chad seem to be unharmed, but they’re tripping over their feet, trying to get away from something, of rather, someone.

It’s hard to make out what’s happening in the dark, but even before a homemade Stab movie gets projected onto the white curtains that have been lowered in front of the stage, I know that Ghostface is here.

Baile, Ethan and Quinn are here, right now, and we didn’t see it coming.

How didn’t we know? There’s only one entrance and we would have heard them come in. Right?

But what if Kirby overlooked a different entrance? What if she didn’t search the place probably?

Speaking of Kirby, my blood runs cold when my eyes land on her. Her face is covered in blood, and it looks like her nose is broken, but what’s more important is the blood on her shirt from a stab wound in her stomach and the knife pressed against her neck by Ghostface, standing behind her.

Ethan or Quinn. . . Bailey is taller.

“Fuck.” I rush to pull Tara and Chad behind me, feeling anger rising in the pit of my stomach when Ghostface tilts his head mockingly.

This is not how this was supposed to go down. Kirby was supposed to stay hidden, she was supposed to observe and call for backup.

Movement out of the corner of my eye makes my heart skip a beat, but when I turn my head, there’s nothing there.

A second later though I feel a presence on my other side, and I whirl around, expecting another Ghostface, but it’s just Sam, wide-eyed and panting.

“They’re here,” she breathes, “They’re—“ she freezes when her eyes land on Kirby, “—Fuck.”

She grabs my arm, and together we shield Chad and Tara while Ghostface continues to watch us wordlessly.

Kirby is deathly still in his hold, despite the obvious pain she’s in because she knows that if she even attempts to reach for her gun or her radio, her throat will be slit.

Some blood is already trickling down her throat because of how hard Ghostface is pressing the knife against her skin, and I shiver, remembering how I was in that same position a year ago.

Every breath, every blink could be your last one, and it’s a horrifying experience.

This is definitely not how I thought this would go. Was I skeptical of our half-assed planned? Yes. Was I expecting it to go off the rails at some point? Also, yes, but I didn’t think shit would be hitting the fan this quickly.

Well, there’s no point in keeping my mouth shut any longer.

“Let her go, Ethan. She has nothing to do with this,” I say lowly. I know it’s him because Quinn is even shorter than her brother and she probably wouldn’t have had the strength to overwhelm Kirby.

Ghostface falters ever so slightly, obviously surprised that I know who’s under the mask, but he doesn’t move or say anything.

“What are you doing?” Tara hisses, tugging on the back of my sweater. “That’s not Ethan.”

Sam squeezes my arm, and I glance over my shoulder for a split second to meet Tara’s eyes. “Yes it is,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. “He’s behind all of this with Quinn and Bailey.”

“What?” Chad lets out a surprised gasp.

Someone starts clapping slowly behind us and we all whirl around to see Bailey standing there next to another Ghostface.

He’s smiling menacingly and claps one more time before exhaling dramatically. “I knew you’d figure it out. I mean, the way you looked at me at the police station after the bodega. . . I knew you knew something was up.”

I narrow my eyes, but stay quiet.

There’s no way to get a confession out of all of them now, at least not one we can use against them in court because Kirby was supposed to record everything, so we’re moving on to plan b.

Kill them. Kill all of them. Make them pay for what they’ve done to Liam, Gale, Anika, and Brooks, and for how they tired to frame Sam for what happened im Woodsboro.

“Also, Ethan saw you talking to Kirby, so I knew we had to do something sooner rather than later to make you pay.”

“Make us pay?” Sam asks indignantly. “For what?!”

The homemade Stab movie still playing in the background flickers eerily, casting weird shadows over everyone’s face, but especially Bailey’s when it tightens in anger.

He pulls out his gun and waves it around. “For killing my son!”

“Your son?” Tara snaps over my shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s right there.” I gesture at the Ghostface still pressing a knife to Kirby’s neck.

Bailey snorts and the Ghostface next to him takes off his mask.

Quinn.

I knew it, and so did Sam, but Chad and Tara suck in a breath behind me.

Ethan takes off his mask as well, somehow managing to do it without letting go of Kirby.

“Not him!” Quinn snaps with wild eyes before pointing her knife at Sam. “You killed—“

The curly hair, the thick eyebrows. . . E.K. Ethan Kirsch.

“Richie. . .” I say through clenched teeth.

Sam’s hand around my upper arm tightens. “You’re Richie’s family?!”

Tara and Chad shift uncomfortably, but they don’t say a word.

Of course they’re Richie’s family. How did I not see that coming?

They want revenge for what Sam did to him and they started it all by spreading rumors about her online, so when they kill her, kill us, people will just suspect some rando who took matters into his own hands after he found out Sam was the “real” Ghostface.

How fucked up is that. . .

I glance at Kirby while Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn catch the others up on what I just figured out, and nod subtly when her fingers graze against the pocket of her leather jacket.

The radio. . . We need to call for backup. We need to get out of here.

There has to be a second exit we don’t know about because how else would Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn have gotten into the theater unnoticed.

My call with page was disconnected, probably because Bailey turned on some kind of signal jammer, which could mean the radio is also useless, but getting my hands on it and trying to call for back up is worth a try anyway.

I mean, don’t radios and cell phones operate on different frequencies?

All thoughts of frequencies are quickly forgotten when Bailey steps forward and holds out a weathered Ghostface mask.

“This is your father’s, Sam,” he says. “Quinn’s got Stu Macher’s and Ethan has Nacy Loomis’s, your grandmother’s. . .”

“It really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it,” Ethan pipes up, and the way Sam’s breath hitches next to me makes me want to bash his head in.

This is exactly what she’s afraid of, being like them, and I just know it’s going to take a lot of therapy and a lot of pep talks to make her, once again, believe she really isn’t anything like them

Tara sniffles quietly, and I reach behind me to squeeze her hand when she holds onto the hem of my sweater.

“This is what we’ve been counting down to,” Bailey says, waving the mask around with the same crazy look in his eyes as Quinn. “I’m going to need you to put it on.”

Oh, hell no.

Sam breathes heavily, and for a split second I think she’s going to take it—she’s going to give them what they want after all, but then she lets go of my arm and smacks the mask out of Bailey’s hand.

“Fuck you!” she spits and her confidence fills me with so much pride that I don’t react fast enough when Quinn lunges forward, slicing Sam’s exposed upper arm with her knife.

She was wearing my zip up hoodie earlier, but it’s so hot in here she must have taken it off while on the phone with Mindy, leaving her in only her gray tank top.

Shit, Mindy. . . Why was she calling in the first place? Is she okay?

There’s no way to find out now, so I quickly pull Sam back against me, out of reach of Quinn while she presses a hand to the cut on her arm.

It’s only superficial, but it’s already bleeding pretty badly and it will definitely need stitches.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tara shouts, trying to step out from behind me, but Chad holds her back with an arm around her waist.

“You’re a killer, just like your father, Sam,” Bailey says, pointing an accusing finger at Sam and this time, unlike when Ethan opened his stupid mouth, I don’t hold back.

“No, she’s not you!” I snap, baring my teeth. With her free hand, Sam squeezes my arm around her middle, either to silently thank me for standing up for her or to get me to settle down.

“Yes, she is you motherfucker!” Quinn screams. “She killed Richie like the cold-blooded psycho that she is!”

That’s it!

I let go of Sam and rush forward to tackle Quinn, but Ethan is quick to react. He shoves Kirby aside and jumps in my way before I can get to his sister, stabbing me in the shoulder right below my collar bone—right below the scar on my neck where Amber stabbed me.

“Ah, you fucking little twig,” I exclaim, squaring my shoulders, ready to take him down instead when Sam pulls me back by the back of my sweater.

“No, run!” she shouts and I spin around, knowing she’s right.

Tara and Chad are already weaving through the glass cases, trying to get to the metal door we came in through and Sam and I follow them.

Quinn and Ethan are hot on our heels while Bailey shouts how he knew Sam had to die when he saw the pictures of what she did to Richie.

Everyone who had something to do with his death dies. . . Yeah, no thanks.

Amidst the chaos, the fact that we don’t have the key card to unlock the door dawns on me the moment we’re standing in front of it. Chad tries to pry it open, but it doesn’t budge and when Quinn and Ethan’s footsteps get louder behind us I exclaim, “Forget about it. We’re not getting out this way! There has to be another exit!”

“The roof!” Tara says. “I saw an exit sign leading to the roof behind the seats on the balcony overlooking the stage.”

The roof? Seriously? We’ll be trapped there, too, unless there’s a fire escape.

Anything’s better than this though, I think as Ethan and Quinn skirt around the corner.

“Okay, go left! There’s a staircase up to the balcony!” I shout and we start running again, abandoning the metal door, which could possibly still be our only way out.

Somewhere in the theater a shot gets fired, and I pray to God that Kirby is okay, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as we get to the staircase.

I yank on Sam’s arm and pull her in front of me, and usher her to follow Chad and Tara, but she stops when she notices me freezing on the bottom step.

“What are you doing? Come on!” Urgency seeps into her voice and she tries to drag me up the stairs, but I don’t move.

“No, get to the roof and get help, I’ll buy you some time,” I say, pulling out the knife Kirby gave me.

If Quinn and Ethan want to get to the others, they’ll have to go through me first.

Sam’s eyes widen when they land on the gleaming blade and she shakes her head adamantly. “Fuck no! I’ve left you behind twice now, I’m not doing it again!”

“Sam— I—“ I want to protest, but then Quinn appears with a lazy smile, dragging the blade of her knife along the wall, seemingly in no hurry to get to us any more.

No, no, no. Why’s she so calm. What’s going on?! Where’s Ethan?!

“Y/N!” Sam urges, which snaps me out of my thoughts.

Right. We’ve got to move, no matter how slow Quinn is walking, she’s going to get to us eventually if we don’t move.

“Shit. Yeah, okay! Go, go, go!” I follow Sam up the stairs, taking two of them at a time with my heart pounding in my ears until we get to the top.

Oh damn, we’re higher up than I expected.

It’s at least a ten foot drop from the balcony to the main floor of the theater, but that’s not what I’m worried about.

No, what I’m worried about is Ethan, who’s blocking our path to the roof because he somehow managed to climb the scaffolding connecting the balcony and the main floor to our right.

Tara and Chad are rooted to the ground, staring at him while he simply waves his knife mockingly.

“You really thought you guys could get away?” He laughs and I grab Sam’s hand and spin us around when I hear Quinn coming up the stairs behind us. “Yeah, no. You’re all going to die here tonight and pay for what you did to Richie.”

Tara whimpers and she and Chad take several steps back until their backs are pressed against Sam’s and mine.

The weight of Kirby’s knife in my hand, the one that isn’t holding Sam’s, does nothing to ground me.

We’re caged in and there’s nothing I can do without risking getting hurt because both Ethan and Quinn also have a knife.

“Richie deserved everything he got!” Sam spits next to me. “He was pathetic and killed innocent people just so he could make a new Stab movie! A fucking movie!”

“He loved those movies!” Quinn exclaims angrily and I can’t help but scowl at her.

“That doesn’t excuse what he did! How deluded are you to think that it’s okay to kill people just so you can make a movie?!”

“Shut up!” Ethan shouts and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s absolutely livid right now.

I don’t shut up though. Not only because I can’t stop myself from going on, but because I need to get him to snap and move so we can get to the roof.

“I mean, how fucked up is it that your dad brainwashed you into avenging your brother’s death? He’s a grown ass man and he’s using his kids to do his bidding. Really gets you thinking about who the favorite child is, or was in this case, doesn’t it?”

Quinn’s face contorts into a grimace of rage and I can see both her and Ethan lunging at us from miles away, so I act before they can.

I let go of Sam’s hand and pick up a discarded scaffolding pipe, shoving it into Chad’s hands before turning back around and kicking the side of Quinn’s knee when she comes at us.

She cries out in pain and goes down, and I spin around just in time to see Chad knocking the knife out of Ethan’s hand with the pipe.

“You piece of shit, you know nothing about us!” Ethan shouts, scrambling to pick the knife back up, but Chad is one step ahead of him.

He kicks the knife under the seats before stepping to the side so Tara can knee him in the face, knocking him out.

Yeah, get his ass, Sprout!

Quinn wails furiously and jumps to her feet, her rage obviously numbing the pain in her knee. She tightens the grip she has on her knife and lunges at Sam who raises her arms defensively.

“Oh no you don’t!” I growl, darting forward and catching her wrist mid-strike. I twist it so the knife is now pointing at her and watch in horror as she runs straight into it, stabbing herself in the throat because she can’t stop her advance in time.

Her eyes widen, and she chokes on her own blood for a moment before Sam kicks her in the stomach, forcing her to let go of the knife and fall backward.

She twitches helplessly, coughing and clawing at her own throat for what feels like hours before finally going deathly still.

“Good fucking riddance,” I spit and Sam nods, seemingly in a daze with her eyes trained on Quinn’s dead body until I grab her hand and pull her away. “Let’s go!”

Tara and Chad have already left and I can only hope that they made it to the roof okay. Where Kirby and Bailey are, I have no idea, but the theater’s been deathly quiet since that gunshots I heard earlier.

Please let that have been Kirby shooting Bailey and nod the other way around.

“We need to call for back—“ My words get stuck in my throat when Sam lets out a surprised cry behind me. Her hand lets go of mine and I hear her knife clatter against the ground before I whirl around to see that she’s tripped over something.

No, not something, someone. And that someone is Ethan who’s got his hand wrapped around her ankle.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam seethes and kicks him in the shoulder, which makes him let go of her, but when they both jump to their feet, my heart drops at the sight of him holding the knife she just dropped.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He slashes the knife through the air, missing Sam’s throat by an inch which makes me see red.

I yank Sam behind me, ignoring the way my back stings because of it, and tackle him.

He grunts when we go down and I feel him dragging the knife across my side, but all I can focus on is the sound of Sam’s voice, crying out my name, and the sensation of falling.

Falling, and falling, and falling.

“Y/N!”

I look up and it’s only when I see Sam bent over the railing of the balcony with a bewildered look in her eyes and an outstretched arm that I realize Ethan and I went overt the edge.

No. This was not supposed to happen.

I want to reach out and grab her hand, but it’s too late. I’m falling and before I know it, everything goes black.

I can’t have been out for too long, because when I come to again, everything is quiet.

There’s no shouting, there’s no police and I’m still in the theater, staring up at the blurry outline of the balcony and the dark ceiling.

Sam is nowhere in sight, but when I turn my head I see Ethan right next to me, sprawled on the ground amidst the glass shards of the display case he fell on.

Black dots are dancing in my vision, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I pass out again, but I know for a fact that he’s dead.

His neck is bent at an unnatural angle and his lifeless eyes are staring at me. His lips and chin are covered in blood from when Tara broke his nose with her knee and there are tiny glass shards sticking out of his cheek and forehead.

That’s two for two, I guess. . .

I avert my eyes and go to sit up to find Sam and the others, only to feel my heart drop when I find that I can’t move.

No. Not again.

I try again, willing every muscle in my body to help me sit up, but it doesn’t work.

All I can do is turn my head, and even that is difficult now that I think about it.

It’s like trying to run in a dream, and before I can stop it, a desperate whimper slips past my lips.

Not again. Please, not again.

The memory of Leroy’s face— the firefighter who pulled me out of my parents car after the accident— makes its way to the front of my mind and when I close my eyes I see his sparkling blue eyes above me.

No, not again. Not again. . .

“Y/N!”

My eyes fly open and I look up. Leroy’s blue eyes swim in and out of focus before they’re replaced by dark brown ones.

Sam.

She’s kneeling over me and has her hands on the side of my head.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What did you do?!,” she whispers frantically, her eyes darting between mine.

I go to say something, but she shushes me by pressing a finger against my lips. “Don’t answer that. Save your strength. Just stay awake, okay, keep looking at me.”

I don’t know why’s she’s telling me to stay awake, but then I feel the almost irresistible pull of sleep tugging on my insides.

My eyes flutter, but I can’t in good conscience rest until I know it’s over— until I know that everyone’s okay.

“T-Tara. . . Chad,” I whisper, my eyes momentarily focusing on the pendant of Sam’s necklace. It twinkles in the low light and fills me with an indescribable warmth, knowing that she hasn’t taken the necklace off since I’ve given it to her. It also somehow chases away the panic that threatened to wash over me just a moment ago when I realized I couldn’t move.

“They’re okay,” Sam says, her voice breaking which makes me look at her again. Her eyes are filled with tears and her bottom lip is quivering the same way it did when I collapsed at the hospital a year ago. “They’re both okay. Kirby’s okay, too.”

I exhale shakily and blink back my own tears. “So, it’s over?”

Sam nods, running her thumbs over my cheek. “It is and help is on the way, so try to stay awake, okay? I know you’re tired, and you’re in a lot of pain because you took quite a fall, but you have to stay awake.“

“Quite a fall” feels like an understatement, but I don’t comment on it. I just shake my head and sigh quietly.

“‘M not in pain,” I slur, feeling my consciousness slipping away again.

It’s true, I’m not in pain. I just can’t move, but that’s okay because I know everyone else is okay. They’re all going to be okay, including Gale and Liam.

“What do you mean you’re not in pain? You just fell ten feet! How can you not be in pain?” Sam grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. I can’t feel it, but I see her doing it. I also see her furrowing her eyebrows when my hand stays limp before realization dawns on her.

“Y/N. . .” Tears roll down her face and I want nothing more but to reach up and wipe them away, but I can’t. “You’re— You’re—“

“‘S okay,” I whisper, trying my best to smile. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not, you’re not,” she hiccups and lets go of my hand again to cradle my head and the back of my neck just as my eyes begin to flutter. “Hey, keep your eyes open! You hear me, Y/N?! Keep your eyes open!”

But I’m so tired and she’s here. She’s finally here after everything that’s happened.

“Sam?”

Tara’s voice makes Sam look up and I take that as my chance to close my eyes.

Just for a little bit, I tell myself, but as soon as my eyes close, darkness washes over me.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

They’re all okay.

She’s here.

_______________________________________________

Before you come for me I just want to say that—spoiler alert—we’re going to be okay!

This part was a pain to write, but it’s done and I can rest now.

Only one more part to go!

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

#x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #scream

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rekino2114 · 1 day ago

Note

I getcha, let’s try this. Basic comfort headcanons for Makima?

the horsemen girls comforting you

A/n:I'm gonna fuse these two requests with something I had in mind for a while. Also thanks to everyone who requested I'm gonna save the requests and do them whenever i'm having another bad day

Makima

You loved being a devil hunter. You really did. Despite the love of your life being a devil herself,the idea of ridding the world from humanity's fears was a noble cause that you loved doing, it also helped that makima was your boss.

But like every job, it had downsides. Luckily, ever since makima fully decided to help humanity, many devils weren't as powerful so your colleagues died less often, and with how strong you were (mostly because of contracts you did with makima) you could protect them if they ever got into mortal danger. But that made the times when they died even more heartbreaking, the thought that you could have saved them disturbed you a lot when it happened and made everything weigh heavier in your mind.

And unfortunately today was one of those days.

"Is everything alright darling?"

You sighed and looked towards makima, her yellow eyes almost compelling you to answer

"Yeah don't worry"

"Are you sure? You've been acting weirdly ever since you returned from the mission"

"It's nothing please, I'm ok"

You turned away from her and started to walk, but she stopped you by putting her hand on your shoulder

"Please darling, I love you, I've known you for long enough to know when you're sad, you can talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, I won't judge you or anything, If you need me I'm here"

Her voice was so sweet and soft, and when you looked back to her, she was offering you a sweet smile, you sighed again and hugged her, a gesture she was more than happy to reciprocate

"Thanks makima, I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's nothing puppy, it's the least I could do"

After you two stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, makima guided you to the couch and put your head on her chest, beginning to stroke your hair

"Can you tell me what happened?"

You told her everything that happened on the mission as she nodded understandigly

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, is the devil you fought still around?"

"No I killed it"

"That's good, I would have destroyed it for making you sad otherwise"

"Thanks"

"Like I said, it's nothing, I'd do anything for you. Now how about we order some food and cuddle, then we can take a bath together to relax"

"I'd....Like that, thank you"

"Oh and don't worry about going to work tomorrow, I'll give us a full week of time off to help you recover"

"......You're the best makima"

"No, you're the best my love, I'm just repaying you for the love you give me"

Yoru

School sucks. That was not news to you, as it wasn't to any student ever.

You had just gotten a bad grade in a test. The worst part is that you actually studied for it, you didn't expect a great grade, but at least a good one would have greatly helped you and your self esteem, you could feel all the stares of your classmates judge you even if they didn't say anything, you felt embarrassed, pissed and sad, you wanted nothing more than to be hugged and luckily you knew the perfect "person" for that.

"Oh, hi y/n, what's up?"

"Hi asa"

Asa let you in her house, and you sat on the bed before looking at her a bit embarrassed

"Can you... let yoru out?"

"Uh? Why?"

"I.....need some comfort"

"Oh yeah, I get it, I guess I could, just don't let her.....kill anyone"

"I'll try my best"

"That's.....not really reassuring"

"Sorry I'm just not feeling my best"

"OK sorry"

Asa sat in front of you and closed her eyes, when she opened them again, they were yellow and ringed, and scars appeared all over her face.

Yoru stretched and took off her hair tie, moving her head to free her hair even more

"Fucking finally, that girl didn't let me out for at least a week, you have an idea how boring it gets in her mind?"

"..............."

"So who is it?"

"What?"

"Who do I have to kill?"

"No one"

"Nope, I do, whoever made you sad is on my hit list"

"I-"

"Maybe I should make them a spear or a sword, a claymore would be cool, I take requests by the way. What's your favorite weapon?"

"Yoru, please can you leave the killing part for now, I just need comfort"

"Comfort like......."

"Cuddles preferably"

Yoru sighed and looked at you. In her time of having you as a boyfriend, she had learned to appreciate human affection and even crave it sometimes, not that she'd ever admit it. So at your request she simply opened her arms and hugged you before resting on the bed

"Just so you know I'm still gonna kill someone later, this is just because you asked for it"

"I guess that's one of the reasons I love you'

"....I love you too, and don't be sad, I'm here for you if you ever need to talk, just ask asa to let me out more often"

"....yeah definitely, thank you"

Fami

"Y/n, you haven't touched your sandwich, are you OK?"

After finishing school, your girlfriend brought you to a restaurant to eat and talk about anything that you wanted. However in the middle of your date she began to notice you acting weird

"Yeah.....don't worry"

Fami looked at you with what everyone else would have thought was an emotionless face but you could see the concern in her eyes

"Did something happen at school?"

"H-how did you know?"

"Because I know you, please tell me what happened"

You felt her hand wrap around you under the table and her gaze soften

"I.....it's stupid I just took a bad grade"

"Oh I see.......that doesn't matter"

"Huh?"

"You shouldn't let that influence your emotions, it's something that happens to everyone, I won't judge you for that and so should no one else"

"Oh.....thanks"

"But if you still upset about that, then I can help you"

She asked the waiter to put the remaining food in a box and held your hand to go outside of the restaurant

"Where are we going?"

"To get ice cream, I've heard it's the food that human eat when they are said, is it true?"

"Yeah I guess"

"Then Let's go"

"But I think spending time with you is what's gonna cheer me up the most"

"I'm glad.......I'm sorry that I seem indifferent sometimes, but I really, really love you always, you can count on me"

"Don't worry, I know, I love you too so much"

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oopsiedaisydeer · 1 day ago

Text

ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.

…goldfish!reader x cliffbythesea!matt meet again and again.

The first time they meet, she’s stuck in a jar.

The tide pulls and pushes her, tiny fins paddling uselessly as sunlight pierces the waves above. She thinks, briefly, that she’s done for—captured by humans, her father’s worst fear.

And then there’s a face—a boy’s face, peering into the water with wide, curious eyes.

“It’s a goldfish,” he says, crouching at the tidepool’s edge. He tilts his head, as though trying to understand what he’s seeing.

“It’s stuck,” he mutters, reaching into the water. His hands are warm as they cup her carefully, freeing her. She flops once, startled.

“Ouch!” He flinches when her fin brushes his finger. “It licked me!” His surprise melts into awe. “It’s alive!” Still alive, she thinks, relieved.

“Matthew, we need to go now!” a woman’s voice calls from the shore.

“But Mum, there’s a goldfish!” he protests, holding her up to the sunlight. “She’s… strange.” “Strange?” his mother repeats, laughing as she starts the car.

“Show me!” his younger brother urges, bounding over to him.

He grins, cradling her in his hands. “Don’t worry,” he whispers to her, as though she can understand him. “I’ll protect you.”

She doesn’t remember him. He doesn’t remember her either, despite everything.

It’s been almost twelve years since she gave up her magic. Not that she remembers ever being anything but a human girl. It’s only on days like this, when torrential rain slams against the concrete, that she wishes she could dive beneath the waves and not come up for air.

Matt’s watching the rain from the same set of windows. He’s been in a mood since he woke up freezing, unable to see the ocean through the lingering mist. The empty seat beside him is suddenly filled, though he doesn’t notice at first—not until the girl mumbles something under her breath and accidentally brushes his arm.

The touch jolts him, and he glances over at her. The girl from the staircase.

She freezes when his eyes meet hers. “Blue,” she says softly.

He tilts his head, confused. “What?”

“Your eyes,” she clarifies, flustered.

His lips twitch into the semblance of a smile, putting her at ease as she turns back to her notebook.

“What were you saying earlier?” Matt asks, genuinely curious.

“Oh, just rambling,” she mutters, cheeks warming.

“I was just—” she hesitates, then exclaims determinedly, “I hate the rain.”

He nods, looking out the window again. “Me too,” he replies simply, before glancing back at her ever-smiling face.

The remaining forty minutes of class pass in comfortable silence. Matt can’t help but notice how she sticks her tongue out of the corner of her mouth when she’s focused or how she tilts her chair a little too far back, almost falling each time.

When the bell rings, he packs up carefully, at an even pace. Just as he’s about to leave, the messy-haired girl blurts out, “Do you want to be friends?”

Friends, he thinks, startled. No one’s asked him something like that in years. Despite himself, he manages a small smile.

“Sure.”

Her face lights up, and she stands abruptly. “Great! I’ve always wanted one!”

She hugs him suddenly, almost knocking the wind out of him, before pulling back with a shy smile. Then, just like that, she’s gone.

Matt watches her go, his brows furrowed. There’s something about her—something he can’t quite place, like a dream he used to have.

Matthew places her in a bucket filled with seawater, his fingers brushing the surface. “Do you eat this?” he asks, holding out a cracker.

She paddles in a small circle, staring at him with her wide, unblinking eyes.

He laughs. “Guess not.”

When they get to the kindergarten, he carries the bucket carefully, announcing to the class, “Look, it’s a goldfish!” The other kids crowd around, peering into the water with delight.

“Is it magic?” one girl asks, pointing.

He hesitates, glancing at the fish. “Maybe,” he says finally, his voice quiet but certain.

The rain hasn’t let up by the time he sees her again, this time in the cramped aisles of their local grocery store. She’s bent over a box of flour bags, her sleeves bunched around her wrists as she struggles to stack them properly.

He doesn’t mean to stare, but there’s something familiar about the way she moves—quick, deliberate, as though she’s always trying to catch up with herself.

When she turns and catches him watching, her eyes widen slightly. “Oh,” she says, startled. “Hi!”

Matt blinks, fumbling for a response. “Hey.” His voice comes out quieter than he meant.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling warmly. “Did you need help with something?”

Truth be told, he’s only in the store to see her and so he shakes his head, looking down at his shoes. “I just saw you were working and I wanted to check in on you…since we’re, um, friends”, he manages to say all of this in one breath, still not quite looking her in the eye.

There’s a pause, just long enough for him to feel awkward, but she smiles appreciatively and gestures to the rain outside. “Stupid weather, right?”

He glances at the window, at the way the water streams down the glass. “Yeah. Looks like it’s not letting up anytime soon.”

She hesitates, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “I was going to bike home, but… well.” She laughs softly, gesturing to the storm.

Matt’s not sure why he says it—maybe it’s the way she looks so out of place here, or maybe it’s just the fact that he can’t shake the feeling that he knows her, somehow. “Do you want a ride?”

She looks up at him, surprised. “What?”

“I mean, if you don’t want to get soaked,” he adds quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal.”

For a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Then she smiles, brighter this time, like sunlight breaking through clouds. “That’s really nice of you. Thanks Matt.”

How does she know my name?, he wonders.

They walk out together, the rain still roaring around them. Matt holds his umbrella awkwardly, trying to keep both of them dry. She walks close beside him, her hands shoved deep into her pockets.

“You’re not what I expected,” she says suddenly, glancing up at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, half-laughing.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs again, her expression thoughtful. “You just… seem different.”

“Different how?”

She tilts her head, considering. “Like… you’re carrying something really heavy, but you won’t let anyone help you carry it.”

Matt doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t.

By the time they reach his car, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. She climbs in, folding her legs under her like she’s been here before.

“Thanks again,” she says, her voice softer now.

Matt nods, starting the engine. “It’s nothing.”

But as they drive through the fading storm, he can’t help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye. There’s something about her, something he can’t quite name. Something he feels like he’s lost.

thank uuu @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

a/n: ahhh idk how i feel abt this but im very excited for where this is going!!

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris (comment to be added)

till next time!!!

#inez˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚#inez ff ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚#ponyo!au𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 #goldfish!reader 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒#cliffbythesea!matt 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fic #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fandom

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lured-into-wonderland · 1 day ago

Text

Nunnally didn’t originally notice that she had confused Ravein. Sure, she didn’t completely understand everything he was trying to communicate, so it was a guessing game for her, but with her talking, she tried to explain to him what message had finally reached her. It was not that she was entirely clear either, as she was so used to overthinking and second-guessing that her messages could also be somewhat blurry.

She did hear Roberto’s ( “What’s wrong?” ) question, but she has decided to ignore it for the time being. It was not directed at her, and even though if it was, everything seemed just fine for her. Though internally, Nunnally was anxious. Something was wrong again. Did she say something wrong? Did she overlook some hints that were given to her?

-- ( She surely did; that was what she was doing all the time. ) --

But even if she did, Nunnally considered it was not big this time. She had already experienced a major overstepping of Ravein’s boundaries, so she suspected this time, it was at most a medium “misunderstanding.” So, she continued keeping herself busy, while Robero and Ravein were speaking with each other. And, indeed, Roberto’s reply to Ravein made her feel better; or perhaps rather calmer, and she allowed herself to ask: --

“Have I misunderstand you, Rav, again? I am sorry. I am not the best in reading in between. I never was.”

Though she didn’t ask what she had mixed up, or where her mistake was. Shall they want to tell her, they surely would. And soon Nunnally learnt not to be wrong.

Oh! So it was all about! That she thought that Ravein didn’t want to join her for "mug hunting"! And she assumed it was too dangerous for him: --

“I thought that perhaps it’s too risky, if we go shopping out there in the city. But if you think it’s just fine, then yes: let’s go.” – Nunnally smiled and added – “I’ll leave it to Ravein. I wouldn’t mind the three of us go, but it’s not that I don’t enjoy spending time with Ravein alone.”

“And yes…” – Nunnally added this time directly to Roberto – “I actually think that some of my small additions make the coffee taste nicer. Though I have a simple taste as you might remember and for me, it’s mainly choosing the right kind of coffee beans.”

They were soon ready. Roberto and Nunnally with their drinks. Nunnally was quite proud of what she had prepared, but she would still wait a few moments before Roberto was back. In the meantime, she smiled to Ravein: --

“I am excited, too. Would it be okay to shop for something more? I might need a things or two.” – perhaps she really did not need them, but it would allow them to spend some more time together – “What places are better? Crowded malls or rather smaller shopping alleys? Would lunch also be an option?”

Roberto was back rather fast.

And there Nunnally was; beaming with pride, handing one mug to Roberto and another to Ravein: --

“Dark roast with star anise. I didn’t add too much as it’s a unique taste.. Not everyone likes it.”

“Your tea is based on lavender. I was less experimental here.”

“I hope you’ll like it. Enjoy.” – she hoped they would find the drinks tasty – “But do feel free to tell me if you don’t. I don’t want to make you a drink you don’t like again.”

Ravein was so confused, and couldn’t help the rapid blinking of his eyes as he was trying to compute what just happened in his mind. Did he say that he didn’t want to go out? Of course, he also didn’t make it easy to understand that he was willing to go. He just didn’t know if she wanted to go shopping for her mug together or if she wanted him to pick something himself- leave it as a surprise. Some people like surprises, don’t they? Some people didn’t like it so much, and he was usually of the latter persuasion.

He continued to listen to her babble on while he was lost in his thoughts, trying to understand how she had the understanding that he was hesitating on going shopping with her. Sure, it was a risk, but shopping inside of stores was actually quite a lot safer for him than being out in the open. Though, she probably didn’t know that.

When Roberto walked in, he was happy to see that Nunnally seemed to be doing fine in the kitchen, and he turned to Ravein- looking confused. He walks over to the younger man and whispers, “What’s wrong?”

Ravein flipped a couple of pages over in his notebook and jotted something down. Reading over the words, he chuckled a little bit, “that happened because you omit so many words when you write. It’s hard for people to decipher your meaning at first.” There is a bit of a learning curve when dealing with Ravein and even Roberto himself had his time trying to learn the eccentricities of Ravein’s communication patterns.

Though, things were easier when they were alone—but that couldn’t be helped right now.

Moving to prepare the drinks for his customers, he listens to Nunnally speak and chuckles warmly, “True, I may know many recipes, but that comes with experience and care. I’m sure your creations are just as lovely if care is put into it.” Roberto was big on the ‘love is the best seasoning’ mentality. “By the way, this old man doesn’t have to join you when you go shopping for mugs, but Rav there does want to join you. Isn’t that right, Rav?”

Ravein nods his head sighly, feeling awkward that he’d been misunderstood because of his communication style. He had to be better about conveying his thoughts. Maybe he should allow at least 5 words? “He doesn’t get to go out much because I’m always so busy, and he can’t trust himself to go outside on his own. He may not seem it, but he’s quit excited at the idea of going shopping with you.” Roberto, coming in clutch, as always.

With expert movement, Roberto finished making the drinks quickly, making good use of the freshly boiled water that Nunnally had prepared. There was enough left over for him to use for the customers. “I’ll be right back.” He set the cups on a tray and he leaves the kitchen to deliver the drinks to his customers before he’d return back into the kitchen with a smile. “I’m free until that bell ‘dings’ again.”

He was sure that normally young adults wouldn’t want an older man sticking around, disturbing them- but it seemed that he did need to poke his head in every now and again to make sure that Ravein’s intentions were being conveyed properly. The young man was a work in progress, but he was trying.

#ravein #roberto #nunnally #verse: mafia #fightingthetides #she's a problematic friend herself #she guesses

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fuctacles · 2 days ago

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@genderthings Robin's Gender Week Day 2, prompt: "safe" with a hint of "he/him lesbians" | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3

T | 1570 | (G)Queer/Masc/GNC Robin | poor boundaries Stobin, pining or background: Steddie, Buckingham, Argyle/Jon/Nancy | 90s/00s AU (they're baby queers), STP packers, spicy seven, kayaking with friends

[title placeholder, brain empty]

It's a fun little getaway, planned after looking through dozens of local guides, until they found the nearest kayaking place. At this point, nobody is sure whose idea it was, but after his third time in the water, Eddie is ready to blame anyone.

"Never again is Steve picking a destination. Ever!" he yells, flipping wet hair out of his face as he scouts for the nearest clearing of the river bank. If he tries climbing on the kayak again, he risks dunking Chrissy as well. And frankly, his arms are tired.

"It was actually Chrissy's idea," Steve points out, calmly floating by in his boat. Robin, sitting in front of him, hums thoughtfully.

"Not Nancy's?"

"I'm pretty sure it was Steve's," Chrissy, Eddie's last friend, sides with him.

"Whatever. Do you guys see any place where I can climb out?"

The Robin-and-Steve team dips their oars in the water, pushing ahead, while Chrissy slowly drifts with the current, and Eddie hands limply off the side of her kayak.

"There's a camping place, come on!"

Eddie groans with relief when he hears Steve's voice.

"Finally!" He channels all the leftover strength in his muscles to push himself forward and swim to the makeshift dock. He hopes at least half of their group is tired enough to vote they take a longer break, maybe even take camp for the night. Surely his wet clothes deserve some pity.

The only plus of being in the water is not balancing on the wobbly vessel of a boat and trying to step on the dock. Eddie watches as Steve exits first with barely any grace and then helps Robin and Chrissy. When the girls are securing their kayaks to the pier, he helps Eddie climb on the dock as well.

"Thanks, man," he sighs, collapsing onto the old boards. "As much as I hate the Sun, I surely appreciate it right now," he grumbles, closing his eyes. He can feel his wet clothes steaming in the summer heat.

He yelps when something hits his face

"Dry yourself off, dude," Steve says.

He tentatively opens one eye, shielding his face with what turns out to be a towel. Not his, though, Harrington's. But he doesn't dare question it.

"Uh, thanks."

They flag down Nancy, Argyle and Jonathan, who are lagging behind while Jon takes nature shots, and together they agree it's time for a break. Eddie undresses happily, to leave his wet clothes in the sun, and wraps Steve's fluffy towel around himself.

"I gotta pee," Robin announces to the public, and Eddie's head snaps up to meet Chrissy's startled gaze.

Girls pee together, right? He tries to telepathically tell her to take the chance and offer her services, whatever they might be. Eddie isn't that well versed in female rituals and even less in girl-on-girl courtship.

"You coming?"

Chrissy almost opens her mouth to answer, but as she and Eddie look at Robin, they find her looking at someone else.

"You still need help?" Steve bitches back at her, but drops the bag he's been going through.

"Maybe," she answers half defensively, crossing her arms.

"Fine." Steve shrugs, following her towards the dilapidated toilets in the far end of the clearing.

Seeing those, Eddie thanks the gods for being born with a dick. He can just find a secluded, clean bush later.

"Well, I guess that makes sense," Chrissy murmurs as the two best friends walk away to pee in tandem. Eddie has to agree—even a bathroom door couldn't stop these two from bitching about their current job or a failed date, apparently.

He's focusing on detangling his drying hair with the brush Chrissy hands him, when he hears a loud lough that makes him look up. Just as expected, he can see his friends continuously talking while peeing by the line of tall weeds behind the toilets.

It doesn't register at first, but eventually, he does a double take.

"Do you see what I'm seeing?" he asks without looking at his friend, too afraid the sight before his eyes could vanish if he turned his head.

"What are you seeing?" Chrissy picks up without much thought, and as she follows his line of sights, it also takes her a moment to register what the issue is. "Huh."

"Yeah," Eddie nods, glad he's not losing his mind. "Does Robin—? You know."

"I don't know," Chrissy answers to whatever Eddie had in mind.

They both watch as Robin looks down to Steve's dick where, assuming from the motion of his shoulders, he's shaking it off, and mirrors the same movement with whatever is between her...his?...legs.

The unbreakable duo seems to be zipping up their pants so Eddie turns hastily to his best friend.

"Should we ask about it?" he whispers heatedly, eyes darting worriedly to see how much time they have left before they risk getting overheard.

"I don't think it's polite?" Chrissy cracks her knuckles nervously and he reaches out to stop her.

"Yeah, but it's not like they're hiding?" he points out. Whatever the deal is, Robin could have used the toilets, or go further away not to be seen.

"I guess so..." Chrissy trails off. She's playing with Eddie's fingers now, squeezing them beyond the comfortable levels of pain, but he lets it slide for now. "I mean, asking means we care, right?"

Eddie doesn't know the intricacies of gender issues that well, but nods his head nevertheless.

"Probably?" is all he can offer. Then, the Robin and Steve duo is walking back, and the Cali threesome is at the dock, and they aren't sure what would be a good timing to ask.

Steve holds his hands up to him and Eddie knows they were holding his dick minutes ago. He wants to bury his face in them.

He obviously doesn't register what Steve says, but Chrissy is the best and presses hand sanitizer into his palm. Eddie quickly gets the clue and squirts a generous amount on his friend's extended hands.

"Thank you," Steve smiles, rubbing the gel between his fingers. Without a word, Robin holds out her hands too, so Eddie squeezes out some for them as well.

"Hey, Robbie?" Chrissy pipes up, the brave girl. Eddie is too focused on the sounds the sanitizing gel makes between Steve's fingers. "If there's anything we should know, you can safely tell us, we won't judge."

"Yeah," Eddie nods.

"I mean, we're friends with Eddie."

"Yeah!" he nods more vigorously. "And don't forget the throuple over there," he throws a thumb at where their friends are unpacking their paddle boat.

Robin's face falls, going pale in the process as well. Eddie can sense his friend's panic so he squeezes her knee, letting her know she didn't do anything wrong.

Similarly, Steve lays a hand on Robin's shoulder. It calms down their jittering, and they look up to see the rest of their group arriving to the clearing.

"Well, since everyone is here," they murmur, inching closer to their best friend. Steve dutifully wraps his arm around his platonic soulmate for support. He gets elbowed for his efforts but miraculously, reads it as the call for help that it is.

He coughs, motioning for the last three to join.

"A quick group meeting, guys!" Steve calls out, calm as a cucumber so the others know no inter-dimensional demons are lurking in the shadows.

"What's up?" Nancy asks, leading the boys behind her.

"Rob has something to share," he says, nudging his friend gently.

"Uh, yeah," Robin stammers. "So you know how boys can pee easily wherever they want, right?" they ask somewhat rethoretically, but a few of them nod in acknowledgment. "So, I got a stand to pee packer, which is a silicone dick with peeing option, usually used by trans guys," Robin explains, avoiding everyone's gaze. "It was for convenience at first, but the more I thought about it and talked with Steve," their friend squeezes them tighter when mentioned in the rant, "while he was teaching me the intricacies of using a dick and keeping me company on bathroom breaks, I realized…" They take a quick breath. "It's actually nice to be perceived as a guy."

The silence stretches, but before it can get uncomfortable, Chrissy speaks up.

"So, how do you want to be addressed?" she asks.

"Uh, Robin is already gender-neutral, so I like that," Robin says. "And when it comes to pronouns, I don't think I mind any? He, she, they, all sound okay to me. The only thing, I still consider myself a lesbian?" Robin admits hesitantly. "Like, it's a community I feel comfortable in and associate with, and it might sound wrong when I'm—"

"Hey." Nancy stops them with a raise of her palm. "I don't think it's that weird, you don't have to explain. You just wouldn't want your relationship with a woman to be considered heterosexual, yeah?"

"Yeah," Robin smiles, relieved to be understood. "That's a part of it."

"So can I call you bro?" Argyle pipes up, to which Nancy scoffs.

"You call me bro all the time!" she points out.

"Yeah, but like, as a pet-name, you know?"

Everyone not involved in their little polycule look at them curiously. They are used to the weirdness, but every time something like this pops up, it's weirder than the last one.

"Yeah, do not call me bro," Robin decides quickly.

"Gotcha."

Tags: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

#stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin friendship #stobin fic #robin buckley #platonic with a capital p #eddie munson #mine #steddie #chrissy cunningham #cj x gender things #gender things #robinsgenderweek #genderqueer robin buckley #nonbinary robin buckley

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darkeraurora · 2 days ago

Text

Admissions - Chapter 3

Small Moments

Word count 3617 SFW Spanish translations are at the end.

Content warnings: swearing (our boo does that), and details of how Simon got his face scars.

Image is by NoteszB on Twitter. Look at this beautiful thing and his freaking long blond eyelashes!

MASTERLIST

“Feels like I’m about to blast off.”

Sereza hummed. “MRIs always gave me Star Trek vibes.”

“Is this thing gonna blow up with me in it?” Soap asked over the mic inside the scanner.

“Uh,” the petite female began. From the back of the room, the silent skull and the captain watched her scroll through several images of Johnny’s head. The team had a vested interest in this; if it went well, she’d said, the drain could be removed and the 141 would be much closer to getting back to their hunt. “Nahhh,” she finally answered back a bit too casually.

“Not very convincing Lass,” the Scot griped.

Slender fingers flicked past several more images. “I’m like, 67% sure it'll be fine.”

“What?!!”

“Steady soldier,” Ghost’s deep voice commanded. Dark irises looked down at the woman when she shivered. An eyebrow arched, inquisitive.

“LT don’t let me die in here!”

Fucking hell, so dramatic. “Keep it tactical Sargeant.”

“Ugh, fine. But I want my chest candy for this!” Soap wagged his finger in their general direction.

“Best I can do is let you keep your grippy socks,” the peanut replied dryly. Price barked out a loud laugh. Even the stoic Brit shook a bit with a silent chuckle before reaching out and patting just above her ponytail. Silent praise for her quick wit.

Both men straightened and came to attention as Raphael rounded the corner, knocking his knuckles against the open door. “Vete a la chingada,” Sereza snapped.

The major smirked. “Well that’s not very nice.”

“Don’t care.”

“So spicy,” he crooned, lifting an arm toward her hair.

Sereza swatted his hand away viciously. “Ya te dije que no hicieras eso!” The corner of Simon’s mouth tugged upward beneath the mask. It seemed the tiny peanut could also be quite the spitfire. It further fascinated and amused him.

Raphael jumped back, wearing an affectionate grin. He enjoyed teasing his sister. “You’re in a mood today. I come to apologize for this morning, like a good big brother, and you’re being mean to me,” he lamented, then ducked to the side as a pen flew at his head.

Perks of being his sister, the Brit thought to himself with a hint of envy. There had been a few majors and others over the years he’d have liked to sling something at.

Price waited. And waited some more, discreetly watching Ghost’s profile. But the skull remained silent and only observed the siblings’ banter. Hm.

“Cállate, now get lost,” the pint-sized female ordered. “Unlike you, I have work to do. Lárgate.”

“Bloody hell, who you yelling at Lass?” Johnny cut in.

At his interruption, the major gave up and left his sister to her work. “Absolutely nobody important,” she answered into the mic. Price chuckled as he explained to Johnny that he’d missed the squabble and his best guess was she’d told her brother off.

Johnny gasped. “Told off the major?!”

“Yo no dije nada, si eso es lo que estás pensando,” Sereza replied innocently with a shrug. “Now, back to your brain.”

The captain took note. No direct interaction between the younger man and the doctor to speak of, but what hadn’t happened was telling. Despite having no idea what was said, she had been made clear her brother was not allowed to pat her on the head, yet she hadn’t objected to Simon doing the same in the hallway the other day and again just a moment ago. And another, more fascinating thing was missing: Simon’s customary ‘speak English’ remark.

The Scot was constantly chastised whenever he spoke Gaelic within earshot of the Brit but Sereza, it seemed, got a free pass. And Ghost was not known for giving free passes. To anyone.

How very unlike him. In John’s experience, people speaking another language made the lieutenant uneasy. He needed to know precisely what was going on around him at all times. But he’d stayed calm with her; not a single annoyed remark or complaint.

What exactly are you doing here, son?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morning drifted quickly into evening, the arctic sun setting several minutes earlier each day.

The masked lieutenant stood outside Sereza’s office. For a moment he watched her, observed, while her mouse cursor flew across the screen. Head propped up in her other hand.

Unaware of the silent shadow, the little one gathered her long honey-hued curls and rapidly twisted them, exposing the back of her delectable neck, coiling her hair on the back of her head and securing the mass in place by shoving a pen through it.

Simon always wondered how women were able to do that. And so deftly.

It was fucking adorable.

Bloody hell. Such a pretty kitten.

He felt like a damn stalker.

Annoyed with himself, the Brit cleared his throat.

“Holy shit!! Ghost!” The little one jumped in her chair. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

“You’re jumpy.”

“And you wouldn’t jump if another one of you just materialized out of fucking nowhere!?”

“No,” the skull deadpanned.

“Ugh!” Sereza moaned dramatically, tossing her head backward and slapping her hands over her eyes. She let out a deep sigh, muttering something under her breath in Spanish, then turning to him with her professional face back on. “What can I do for you sweetie?”

The Brit almost filled the doorway as he walked in. “Anything on Johnny?” he asked, improvising on the spot.

She clicked through several screens. “Nothing official for you yet; still waiting on the report. But I can tell you that I didn’t see anything that would make me want to leave the drain in longer. In my personal professional opinion, it’s ready to come out, however I’m not a radiologist, so-” she waved away the rest of her sentence.

Simon nodded. The peanut drew her legs up and folded herself into her chair, making her appear even smaller. His gaze roamed over her, memorizing her, until he stopped at the socks barely peeking over her shoes. “Your socks are really small.”

“Very random Ghost.” She shoved the edge of her desk, spinning in her chair around to face him, “There is a substantial size difference between the two of us, you may have noticed.”

He chuckled until Sereza held up her palm to him. Confused, the skull stared momentarily. Eyes flicking between hers and her outstretched hand.

“Come on, let’s see,” she prompted, wiggling her fingers.

She wants me to touch her?

The Brit, moving almost as if he might scare her off, pressed his gloved hand against her palm and as expected, he completely dwarfed her. A quiet laugh tickled his ears as she pushed back against him, turning their hands from side to side. Simon found himself captivated. Her smile, expression sparkling with her amusement, the feeling of her – touching her – and the warmth of her seeping through the glove to his…

Sereza fell silent and looked up, meeting dark eyes that had softened and crinkled at the corners. “Ghost? Are you smiling?” she asked, tilting her head to one side and grinning wider at him.

“…Yeah,” he admitted. Somewhat reluctantly, but dammit that beautiful face…

It made him want to tell her things. Things he knew he probably shouldn’t.

Most definitely shouldn’t.

“I bet you have a nice smile under there.”

Ah shit, here it comes. Cue the same old tired lines about his balaclava followed by the pressure to take it off then the endless questioning about why he wouldn’t. Honestly, he had been starting to wonder when this was coming; it always did eventually. People’s curiosity about his mask was understandable, of course, and a few courteously-worded questions were fine, but he didn’t understand their inability to take no for an answer. Removing it was out of the question.

Sereza noticed the change in his expression, how the hidden smile dropped and his posture changed, curling inward almost imperceptibly. Protectively. He really didn’t like that, but… I don’t think it’s about his smile... “Not that I think you should take it off or anything; it was just an observation. I’m just happy I’m learning how to read you,” she explained. Lacing her fingers through his, she gave Simon’s hand a quick reassuring squeeze before breaking their contact and turning back to her work.

His metaphorical mask was firmly fixed in place. All his defensive walls were up and ready to field yet another attack on the object that provided him a sense of comfort, safety, and anonymity in this god-forsaken world.

Except for once the attack never came.

“Why aren’t you asking about it?” he couldn’t stop himself from saying. Surely she wanted to; everyone had something to say about it. Some unsolicited and unwelcome bit of advice. Or they’d have something to say behind his back at the very least.

Those lean shoulders casually shrugged, “I didn’t have anything to ask, honestly. I think you’re expecting me to bombard you with questions about it but I don’t have any. And before you ask why not I suppose that’s because, in my view, you’re an adult making an adult decision and therefore whatever I think doesn’t matter.”

But do you hate it too?

Simon’s chest began to hurt and he realized that, surprisingly, it would actually really hurt him if she hated the balaclava. Hated this part of him.

“Maybe it’s the surgeon in me that makes me partial to skulls but, for what my opinion’s worth, I think it looks nice on you. Both your styles.”

Like skulls, do ya’ Lovie?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There was one instance where Simon disliked his masks – when his facial hair grew too long. He’d never cared for it, even before he began covering his face. Almost as soon as he started growing peach fuzz he’d started shaving.

How John willingly put up with all that hair on his face Simon would never understand.

Ghost could go about two weeks between shaving before the stubble became annoying, but he could still tolerate it when he had to. Long missions in the middle of nowhere had given him plenty of practice. By four weeks his face was beginning to really piss him off and at five he was willing to use his combat knives to get rid of the hair, the resulting razor burn a price worth paying.

Shredding his skin wasn’t necessary this time. Luckily for him and his face, the commissary at Westforge was pretty good. Shave cream, pack of decent razors, body wash he didn’t think would leave him smelling like a goddamn fruit basket after a shower – perfect.

Movie night was in just over an hour; might as well knock it out while he waited. Maybe she’d be there… He shoved the thought away.

Dark gaze roamed from his fingers in the running water, waiting for it to warm up, to his balaclava staring back from where it lay on the edge of the sink, down to the walking boot protecting his fractured foot, and coming to a stop at the bruises and scabs his bone gloves had kept concealed. Remnants of a fight. One that had turned out to be his opponent’s last.

Large hands cupped the warm water over his face and applied shave cream. This part of shaving was an almost automatic task for him; not requiring much focus. His mind began to wander…

Her laugh faintly played in his ears.

The sound of her accent when she’d told him the name of her hometown.

Feeling her touch him while she traced his tattoos. And holy hell that smile.

“I bet you have a nice smile under there.”

She’d held his hand-

Ghost blinked away those thoughts. Fucking hell, get your head on straight. Picking up the razor and taking the first swipe, each stroke revealed more of the disfigured face. Simon rinsed his razor. He exhaled resentfully, having come to the parts he never liked doing – around the scars. The tiny nicks from fighting or the typical mishaps as a kid were negligible. He could, and very often did, completely overlook those.

Others…

The line near his temple where no hair grew from a time his father had backhanded him, causing Simon’s head to hit the corner of a table. His mother hadn’t been allowed to take him to get stitches until the following day.

As shit as his father had been, he hadn’t been the one responsible for most of his scars…

Small pieces missing from his ear.

Old burns on his neck and chest where they’d put out their cigarettes.

Narrow lacerations through his eyebrow, one extending down across his nose and to the corner of his inner eye.

The corner of his lip sliced through.

Rough, red scars crisscrossing his cheeks.

What remained of a gash extending from in front of his ear, underneath and behind, then up into his hair. Carved into his head by one of his torturers.

A sunken, cross-shaped scar Roba had personally cut deep into his cheekbone. That was probably the worst thing marring his face.

He rinsed the razor and took another swipe. Then stopped.

Or was it his eyes? Dark as coal, just like his father’s, his mother had always said.

“They’ll always be a piece of him in you.”

Simon rinsed the clean razor again. Pausing in his task, the haunting glare at his reflection intensified.

His nostrils flared. With a fierce yell, he hurled the razor across the small bathroom, the plastic shattering against the tile wall. His palms slammed onto the edge of his sink, the porcelain groaning under his white-knuckled grip. Head hanging, teeth clenched, eyelids squeezed shut in an effort to stop other, weaker, signs of emotion from leaking out.

No sense in lying to himself. He would disgust her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Simon was going to go insane.

If he didn’t get out of here and back to work soon…

Two weeks. Two more fucking weeks, he mentally reminded himself. His heavy footfalls stopped in the middle of the hall leading to the common room. Now what? Rolling his eyes, he backed up a few paces and looked around the corner. He’d been hoping his sight was deceiving him, but no. Simon wasn’t that lucky.

He frowned behind the skull balaclava as he surveyed the room. A herd of random people, gathered beneath an open vent for… what reason exactly? Just as he was getting really curious one of them yelled into the ceiling, “Got it?”

Is there a fucking person in the damn air vent?!

“Almost, not yet,” a feminine voice echoed back from the darkness.

No...

The onlookers had begun teasing, oblivious to the shadowy lieutenant looming behind them, urging her to “get a move on.”

“Could you have some damn patience?”

“Bet I could be faster.”

“Bet not. There’s no way you’d fit in here. It’s like being in a damn coffin, even for me.”

Simon’s pulse raced, his feet carried him into the room and through the crowd until he stood directly under the vent, people scattering out of his way at just his presence alone. Not that he paid them any attention; he was only vaguely aware of them at best.

Alarm spider-walked up his spine. The little one… in the dark… squeezed into a space the size of a coffin. The room felt like it was spinning. Sound became muffled.

He wanted her out, and out right fucking NOW.

His mind screamed at him to get to her, to tear the fucking ceiling apart if need be. Whatever it took to pull her back out into the light where she belonged.

A loud bang almost made him flinch, followed by the hum of the air system as it came back online. “Got it!” she called from within the ductwork. There was a round of clapping and ‘atta girl!’ but Ghost stood still and silent as a statue in the middle of it all, the gaze drilling into the black void in the ceiling. She was taking too long…

The others began wandering off, back to whatever business they had, but the lieutenant stayed resolutely adhered to the floor, wide eyes trained on the vent. There was the rest of the world and everyone in it, then there was her – his little one – and it was taking every ounce of his self-control to not bring the entire ceiling down. Finally, a flash of movement in the darkness; the black sole of her shoe as Sereza worked her way out. Simon could almost breathe again, but not until she was safely back on the ground.

Moving slowly since she couldn’t see where she was going, Sereza shimmied backward out of the vent. Large arms wrapped around her thighs, easily taking her weight, then a steadying grip on her waist lowered her the rest of the way out. She blinked rapidly as oppressive darkness gave way to those stupid fucking florescent ceiling lights she hated. Her hands held onto broad shoulders for support as she was lowered to the floor. Looking up, hazel irises locked with worried dark ones hidden behind eyeblack and a bone balaclava.

Ghost was almost panting, his gaze rapidly skimming over her face and frame. He was worried about her? But there wasn’t even a second to ponder on that before she was crushed against a hard chest, his arms wrapped across her back and masked face buried against her hair. Ear to his chest, she could hear his heartbeat pounding away.

Dios mio… He smelled divine.

Gunpowder, naturally, woven among the scent of leather and the outdoors. Another more subtle scent – cedar? His choice of body wash, she supposed. And buried beneath it all, his natural musk that she could only describe as unmistakably, intoxicatingly, and deliciously male. No human should be allowed to smell so good, she decided. Smiling to herself, Sereza sighed contentedly and curled her fingers into his hoodie as she snuggled back against him.

For right now, nothing else mattered. She let herself be surrounded by Ghost, his warmth, and his presence.

In the back corner of the room, behind a cigar, bright blue eyes narrowed at the pair.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not until the group reached the common room did Simon manage to peel himself away from the little one’s side comfortably. He still trailed after her, but she headed for the bathroom and he was forced to fully separate from her. Goddammit.

He sunk into one of the ancient, sagging couches. A spot on the outer edge to keep him away from the chattier crowds and also protect his broken foot from getting accidentally kicked, an armrest at his left preventing too many people from sitting beside him – not that they did to begin with… Simon couldn’t have a better spot. A bone glove palmed the contents of his pocket.

A feminine sigh from behind him made his eyebrows rise high on his forehead. To Simon’s complete surprise, the peanut headed straight for him, weaving past Soap and Garrick. Sereza folded herself up and squeezed between Ghost’s side and the threadbare armrest, tiny feet perched on the edge of the cushions.

“She’s like a damn pretzel,” Gaz remarked to the other sergeant.

Sereza pulled her legs in closer. “If I fits, I sits.”

Simon was positively chuffed to bits.

The little one yawned. Fucking hell that was adorable, like everything she did. “Long day?” he asked.

She covered another yawn as she nodded, “Long and very, very early.”

The lights clicked off as the opening credits began playing. Before the show could get started, he dug the noisy package from his pocket and sliced it open with his knife. Sereza’s head tilted his direction. “Yes, Peanut?” his deep voice whispered, laced with amusement.

She shivered again. Was she cold?

Didn’t feel cold in here. Then again, she was a gnat-sized little thing with almost no meat on her bones. Maybe she was.

“N-nothing,” she quietly squeaked.

Ghost’s dark eyes twinkled in the light from the screen. He tipped his hand, offering her the open bag. That smile – that fucking gorgeous smile – spread across her face as she pulled out a gummy worm.

“I love sour gummy worms!” she murmured.

Deadpool was pretty good and Simon didn’t care that it was a bit of an older movie. He wasn’t usually one for the superhero genre but he enjoyed the character’s sass. The mix of action and dialogue was good too-

He started.

A small weight had dropped onto his shoulder.

The little one’s head.

Oh sweetheart.

Her breaths were deep and slow. Poor thing must have been more exhausted than she’d let on. That or she felt safe enough to fall asleep in a room full of men. What a luxury it must be to feel that safe. That included many guys on her brother’s team who also saw her as their sister, but still. Such a thing was beyond Simon’s comprehension.

Midnight eyes looked over the tiny curled-up figure. Even as a few of the lights came back on she didn’t stir. Definitely sound asleep, which meant she was entirely vulnerable. The urge to watch over her consumed him.

Looked like he was stuck.

The room cleared out. Simon waved off offers to help get the little one to her room and shot his most murderous glares at those who tried to wake her up. Johnny smiled and passed him a throw blanket. The Brit slouched back into the cushions, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his hoodie and getting comfortable for his watch. For as long as she needed.

A new, warm feeling bloomed in his chest as she let out a soft sigh and pressed closer to his arm.

…I want to hold her.

Spanish translations:

“Vete a la chingada.”

Go to hell.

“Ya te dije que no hicieras eso!”

I’d already told you not to do that!

“Cállate.”

Shut up.

“Lárgate.”

Get lost.

“Yo no dije nada, si eso es lo que estás pensando.”

I didn’t say anything if that’s what you’re thinking.

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