#it was a big deal for me and i felt like i won against the things i struggle with

[fitzpersonal]

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Alright, time for another Merlin au! This one won the last poll, marked as "an au featuring Arthur being an idiot"!

In this au, set sometime in the three years between season 4 and season 5, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights of the round table get ambushed by a large pack of ferocious wyverns while on a quest. This time, Merlin couldn't be subtle about using his dragonlord commands to pacify them, and that was the only way to ensure that they would all make it out alive. So, Merlin uses dragonlord commands to make the wyverns leave and, in the process, reveals that's he's a dragonlord. However, he at least managed to keep his magic a secret through the ordeal, so he's got that going for him.

Arthur is, of course, rather upset about Merlin keeping this secret from him, and is even more upset when he learned that Balinor was Merlin's father and guilty that he didn't support his friend through mourning his father as Merlin had for him. However, Arthur can also keep things in perspective. After all, dragonlord powers weren't actual sorcery, apparently it was a magic-adjacent gift that Merlin had inherited at the moment of his father's death, whether he wanted to or not. Besides, it wasn't like Merlin chose to have the ability, so Arthur couldn't really hold the ability itself against Merlin.

And anyways, Arthur mused to himself at their camp after Merlin came clean to the knights the night after the the wyvern attack, it wasn't like there were any dragons left. The only thing Merlin could do was command wyverns. While that could perhaps make him a threat if he wasn't the most harmless person Arthur knew, they didn't even encounter wyverns that often.

So, Arthur was willing to just let this be a useful little trick that Merlin could use on the off chance that they ran into wyverns. Still, the image that the whole situation gave Arthur, an image of Merlin being a formidable, powerful dragonlord with devastating dragons under his command, was rather amusing.

So, as Arthur settled in for the night after hearing the last of Merlin's explanation, this wasn't going to be a big deal. Sure, he was still hurt that Merlin kept this a secret from him, but Arthur could understand why. Uther had killed all of the other dragonlords, so it made sense that Merlin felt unsafe with his father still on the throne, and since they didn't run across wyverns often, there was a very real chance that Merlin just forgot about his ability entirely until it was relevant again. That was a very Merlin thing to do.

So, everything was fine. Everyone with them looked comfortable with Merlin, and he knew that they would keep this a secret for Merlin's sake. If word of Merlin's dragonlord abilities got out, Arthur could always publicly grant him a pardon. After all, it wasn't like he had ever hurt anybody with it. The only thing he seemed to do with it was send wyverns away.

Arthur quietly snorted to himself at the thought. Oh no, the terrible powers of Merlin the dragonlord, telling some wyverns to shoo.

Arthur relaxed into his bedroll, listening to the knights settling in to sleep and their fire crackling a few feet away. The quiet noises were peaceful, but were broken a few minutes later by Leons seemingly innocuous question.

"Merlin, if you were already a dragonlord when we rode out to face the great dragon, did you do anything with your powers? I assume you're the reason Arthur made it out alive through the whole ordeal."

Merlin froze where he was sitting, a myriad of emotions passing through his face before his expression settled on a grimace. Arthur sat up, interested in hearing Merlin's answer. What truly happened that night with the dragon? In the comfort of his own mind, Arthur admitted that Merlin's explanation of Arthur slaying it was... unlikely, at best, considering that Arthur was unconscious at the time.

"Well, you'd be correct Leon. It took me a while to figure out how to use dragonlord commands, since I never got any instruction on how I was supposed to command Kil- the great dragon. I'm truly sorry that I wasn't quick enough to save the other knights."

Merlin hung his head low, with what looked like shame. Arthur frowned at his manservant. Surely Merlin couldn't hold himself responsible for their deaths? Every knight had similar guilt, telling themselves at night that they should've been faster, should've been better, should've been more aware, then maybe some of their friends would still be with them.

Every knight learned the same lesson: those thoughts were the path to madness. It was disheartening to see that misplaced guilt on Merlin as well.

Luckily, before Arthur had to try to articulate that, Leon seemed to have similar thoughts, and spoke to Merlin with a soft, reassuring smile.

"Merlin, they volunteered for that mission, and they knew the risks. You are not to blame for the dragon's actions. Now please, tell us, how was the dragon actually defeated?"

Merlin nodded at Leon's words, but the guilt remained on his face.

"I, uh, was able to find my dragonlord voice after Arthur was knocked from his horse. He hadn't managed to hit the dragon, and he was about to kill Arthur, but I couldn't let that happen."

Merlin glanced over at Arthur, who was valiantly trying to ignore the warm fuzzy feelings blooming in his chest at the thought of Merlin slaying a dragon single-handedly just to protect him. He wasn't some maiden in a children's tale!

"But, when I gave the order to the dragon to stop attacking, I- I couldn't-"

Merlin swallowed thickly before continuing.

"I couldn't kill him. He was the last dragon, the last of my kin. So, I ordered him to leave. I banished him from Camelot and forbade him from ever harming another human again."

This time, Arthur froze where he was sitting, and he could see that the knights were in similarly tense states. Poor Leon turned a rather disturbing shade of pale.

Finally, Arthur spoke up with a forced calm tone, the type that was only a thin veneer to panic.

"Merlin, you don't mean to tell me that the dragon is still alive? And it could return to Camelot to finish what it started?"

Merlin looked at Arthur and tried to reassure him, but Arthur could barely comprehend Merlin's words through his rising panic.

"Well, yes, he's still alive, but dragons physically cannot disobey orders given by their dragonlord. He cannot return to Camelot at all, unless I call for him."

Merlin tried to give him a comforting smile, but Arthur wasn't sure he could feel any sort of comfort at the moment. He locked eyes with Leon, who wasn't faring much better with his own panic. Dear gods, that monster was still out there! They had all been living under a false sense of security! And all the while, Merlin was smiling at him like there was nothing wrong at all!

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to think through the haze of his panic. Right, Merlin hadn't killed the dragon. That made sense, since Merlin hated killing anything at all, much less the most dangerous monster on the planet. Right. But, according to Merlin, the dragon physically couldn't enter Camelot or hurt any humans.

Information, what Arthur needed was more information. If he had more information, he could come up with a strategy to keep Camelot safe from the dragon indefinitely. Merin's orders had worked for now, but there was no guarantee that those would work forever.

Forever... wait a minute...

"Merlin," Arthur called out frantically, fueled by an awful thought. "How long does a dragonlord's order bind a dragon?" Please say forever, please say forever...

Merlin's eyebrows shot up, apparently not expecting Arthur to ask such a question.

"Well, any dragonlord's order is fully binding to a dragon up until the original dragonlord rescinds the order or the dragonlord dies, whichever comes first."

Arthur felt panic's icy fingers wrap around his heart. Arthur despised even thinking about any hypothetical death of Merlin's, couldn't fathom an empty life as the king without his friend, but this, this information put a whole new layer of dread onto the though, which Arthur previously thought wasn't even possible. He could see the other knights catching onto his logic as well, while Merlin still sat on his log, looking at all of them confusedly.

If Merlin somehow died, then his banishment on the dragon was lifted. And if that happened, there would be no dragonlord left to stop it from reducing all of Camelot to ash. If Merlin died, then Camelot was doomed.

This new knowledge sat heavy in Arthur's gut, putting him on edge. Balinor had been killed from a bandit's crossbow bolt, something that Merlin faced regularly while following Arthur around. All it would take was one lucky shot on a bandit's part, and all of Camelot would die.

One bandit attack gone wrong, one assassin from Morgana, one accident on the training field, one illness contracted from a patient, and all of Camelot would go up in smoke.

Wait... dragons lived for thousands of years... and Merlin would, if Arthur had his way, live for at least a hundred years, but everyone died eventually. The dragon would surely outlive Merlin, and then the only way that Camelot would still stand was if there was another dragonlord! But Merlin was the only one left, and it was passed down from...

from father to son.

Arthur choked on air as he realized it. Good god, what had his life come to?!

If Camelot was going to survive, Merlin needed to have a son, and have one quickly. For the continued survival of Camelot to be ensured, Merlin needed to find a wife and get laid.

Arthur wanted to start laughing hysterically. The fate of his kingdom rested upon Merlin's ability to sire a child.

Arthur stared at Merlin as the other man tried not to squirm under the shocked gazes of all the knights. Ok, he could do this, his kingdom would be safe from the dragon, he just needed a plan.

First, they needed to get Merlin back to Camelot, where he would be safe and away from murderous bandits. That part was easy enough, they were already heading back to the kingdom anyways. The knights had estimated that it would have taken them another three days to reach Camelot, but with all of the knights sharing Arthur panic around Merlin's safety, for both the sake of their friend himself and the kingdom, they were able to make it back in only two days.

For those two days, Merlin seemed more confused by their frantic and panicked behavior than anything else. His shocked and embarrassed face when Percival had helped him on and off his horse - "so he doesn't fall and get hurt", the gentle giant had rationalized - had been very amusing. All the while, Arthur planned out what they would do when they returned and repeatedly reassured Merlin that no, he wasn't too mad about Merlin letting the dragon live since Merlin could at least keep it away.

Then, they needed to ensure Merlin's protection in Camelot. Granted, there weren't many dangers in Camelot, but the clumsy fool could find danger anywhere. With his luck, Arthur would bet that Merlin would trip over some stairs in the castle and wind up bleeding out! That could be remedied by assigning knights to guard Merlin at all times in Camelot and keeping Merlin physically by his side as much as he could. Merlin raised an eyebrow at his new guards and schedule, which kept him glued to Arthur's hip at all hours of the day, but otherwise said nothing (besides a little mocking about how Arthur couldn't get anything done without him. Arthur tried not to think about how the familiar taunt rang far more true than he had ever realized.).

(Merlin, on his end, took these measures as a sign that he had lost Arthur's trust with the admission of letting the dragon live. What else was he supposed to think about knights following him 24/7 and being kept in Arthur's line of sight more than ever before?! Merlin consoled himself that it was by far more lenience than he had been expecting. Arthur hadn't threatened him, he wasn't being executed or exiled, Arthur was still treating him as a friend, and he had every chance to earn Arthur's trust back again. Really, if his punishment as just having to be with his knight friends at all times, then he could happily live with that.)

Still, Arthur didn't know how to go about the final part of his plan: ensuring that Merlin would have an heir to inherit his dragonlord powers and keep Camelot standing for generations to come. Of all of the trials and quests he'd faced, this one seemed to be the most daunting of all: finding a woman attracted to Merlin.

Arthur eventually settled on a plan. He'd have Gwaine accompany Merlin on long walks around the castle and the lower town, and the knight would report back to Arthur on which ladies had caught Merlin's eye, and which ladies Merlin had caught the eye of. Gwaine had a way to spotting attraction between people, something he frequently used to gather ammunition to tease his fellow knights with. With any luck, there would be some overlap between the two lists, and they could find some nice woman for Merlin to settle down with.

After a few weeks, however, Arthur found himself having to re-evaluate his plan. While Gwaine had reported that there were a good number of young ladies in the lower town that seemed to fancy Merlin, Merlin didn't seem to have eyes for anyone, which made their mission trickier.

Eventually, Arthur resorted to inviting Merlin over for dinner with him and Gwen, hoping to flaunt to Merlin how great the married life was and how Merlin was getting older and was running out of time to settle down and have children. To his disappointment, Merlin didn't seem to get the hint, instead telling both of them how much he appreciated them including him in their time together when they didn't have to. Arthur had to swallow back frustrated screams at his friend's obliviousness.

(Gwen, meanwhile, was perplexed by Arthur's push for Merlin to find a wife. At first glance, she would think that Arthur was worried about Merlin never settling down and starting a family, which was something Gwen sometimes worried about as well.

However, Arthur's push was more vehement than a concerned friend's. There was something there, some underlying passion forcing him to push Merlin towards a wife.

When Gwen finally realized the truth behind Arthur's efforts, it broke her heart. Gwen knew that her husband could be a bit old-fashioned in some ways, and that the prejudices that he must have grown up with as a noble were not easily shaken off, but still, that wasn't an excuse to be homophobic towards Merlin!

Gwen had figured out about her friend's preferences during the Lamia's attack, since Merlin was the only man unaffected. Truthfully though, Gwen had suspected long before that, given how Merlin had looked at both Lancelot and Gwaine. And while it was shocking for Gwen, she would support her friend no matter what!

So, she was very disappointed in Arthur's behavior. Arthur must have somehow learned about Merlin's preference towards men during their last quest, and now he was trying to pressure Merlin into finding a wife! She agreed that Merlin deserved a lovely family, but Arthur should not force him into the nobility's narrow definition of family! If Merlin wanted his lovely family to involve a husband instead of a wife and that's what made him happy, then that is what they all should wholeheartedly accept!

Gwen really needed to give her husband a stern talking-to before he could hurt Merlin with his prejudice!)

(Merlin, meanwhile, is far too sleep-deprived and stressed over keeping Arthur safe and the prophecy to even think about romance or starting a family. His disaster bisexual ass has too much on his plate right now.)

So, Arthur tries everything he could think of to find Merlin a wife. Unfortunately, Arthur is not nearly as good of a wingman to Merlin as Merlin was to him. Arthur had hosted many balls and feasts, making sure to invite attractive ladies around Merlin's age, but Merlin didn't even bat an eye at any of them.

Perhaps the only thing more frustrating than Merlin's lack of attention towards any of the young ladies of the court was the fact that, now that Arthur was looking for signs of anyone's affection towards Merlin, he could see how many members of his own court were smitten with his manservant.

And Arthur was just baffled because how?! How was that possible?! That Merlin, a lanky beanpole of a man with a blinding smile and charming wit and unending loyalty and eyes he could get lost in...

Where was Arthur going with that? Oh right. Merlin, with all of the suaveness of a wet sock, was somehow the object of desire for most of the ladies in waiting. Arthur was entirely baffled by it.

And just when Arthur thought that it couldn't get any worse, it did. It got so much worse when his wife sat him down and started lecturing him for some sort of prejudice that he was showing against Merlin by pushing him towards a wife, because apparently Merlin's eyes didn't stray towards women at all.

Look, Arthur knew that some of his own knights preferred the company of men, and he wouldn't begrudge them something like that. To each their own. But if Camelot was going to still be standing for Arthur's heir, Merlin needed to sire a son of his own.

After Arthur explained to Gwen the situation that they were in with the great dragon still alive and Merlin's life being the only thing holding the beast back from destroying Camelot, Gwen also became grave with the realization that they were stuck without a solution that would keep Camelot safe for the next generations.

Arthur moped around for a few weeks, unable to think of a single solution for the situation he had found himself trapped in. How on earth was he supposed to get Merlin to have a biological son if Merlin doesn't even like women?!

Wait, but Merlin had liked a woman, at one point. Perhaps his preferences had changed, but at one point, he was willing to sacrifice himself, to willingly confess to sorcery in front of Uther Pendragon, in order to keep the woman he loved alive. And Arthur knew that love like that didn't die easily. And Arthur should know, since he loved the same woman in the same way.

From then on, Arthur kept a keen eye on Merlin and his wife. He knew that his wife would never be unfaithful to him with Merlin, and Merlin had been nothing but supportive towards Arthur and Gwen's relationship, even when Arthur himself had given up on it. Still, Arthur knew that if Merlin had eyes for one woman in the world, it would have to be Gwen. He saw the way that Merlin looked at Gwen sometimes. Merlin didn't look at any other woman that way.

Gwen had confessed that she had romantic feelings towards Merlin at one point, and Merlin certainly had some sort of feelings for Gwen that went beyond platonic. Arthur swallowed dryly as he thought about it. Could... could that be the only way?

(Cue slowburn Mergwenthur, with Arthur trying to set up Gwen and Merlin together with a heavy heart, while the other two are kinda oblivious and mistake it as Arthur wanting a threesome, which they would be more than happy to go along with, along with Arthur slowly realizing his own feelings for Merlin.)

(Meanwhile, since Arthur's crap at communicating, Merlin doesn't actually realize that it all started because they thought that they needed Merlin to have a son to keep Camelot safe from the dragon after Merlin was dead. Upon Arthur finally telling him, Merlin then has to awkwardly informs them that he's immortal and doesn't really need to sire an heir.

Arthur, understandably, screams into a pillow at the news that his efforts were pointless, while his lovers laugh gently at him and start kissing him to make up for all the stress he had to go through.)

And that's all for this au! I hoped you liked Arthur's himbo-ness shining through one again!

Thanks for reading through my ramblings! :D

[happy74827]

Emptiness Renewed

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You figured all your concerns would go away now that you had the assurance with Mike, but the truth was… they weren’t disappearing. Not until you won and healed the relationship of your old friend, who happened to be his sister. {GIF credits: @owenhcrper}

WC: 2,733

Category: Lime/Steamy, Comfort, Slight Fluff

A lot of you wanted a sequel to “Fill the Void,” so here it is! You don’t have to read the first part, this can be read as a stand-alone, but if you want you can find the first part here

『••✎••』

Your hands found Mike’s waist and held on tight. His mouth was on yours, soft and sweet, his hand at the nape of your neck holding you in place as he kissed you over and over. He was all you could see, taste, and smell, and your whole body tingled with how good it felt. You were lost in the kiss, his mouth making promises of what was to come, and the warmth in your belly was growing.

When he pulled back you were dazed and breathless, and you blinked slowly at him.

He gave you a crooked smile, a rare thing that always made you melt, and his hand slipped down to cup your jaw. "I missed you."

You were still floating, your whole being focused on his hand at your cheek and his lips that you were missing already.

"I missed you too," you managed, and you saw the smile in his eyes before his mouth covered yours again.

He tasted like sweat and coffee, but the way his tongue slipped between your lips, hot and eager, made your whole body sing. Your arms slid up and around his neck, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

The kiss went on and on, the two of you breathing each other in, his arms tightening around you until he was pulling you closer. His skin was damp against your shirt, and his sweaty hair brushed against your face, but you didn’t care. You were lost in Mike's kisses and the way he made you feel, and if he wanted to keep kissing you like this all day, you would let him.

It was hard to believe you had been kissing for five minutes. It felt like hours, like years. The feeling of him pressing you back against the bed as he kissed you, the way your pulse pounded as his mouth explored your throat, his warm body covering yours and his hands exploring your body, made time slip away. It felt like nothing else mattered.

Mike was everything you thought about for weeks, and he was there with you, all yours. You hadn't even managed to get your shoes off yet and you didn't care. You were wearing clothes you didn't even like, but that seemed insignificant compared to what you had in your arms. You didn't want to think about anything else.

Your hands slid under the sweaty shirt clinging to his back, feeling the warm, smooth skin over his back and his muscles flexing under your fingers. His hips rolled against you and your eyes closed at how good it felt. His mouth found yours again, his kiss hard and fast, his tongue dipping inside your mouth. His hands slid under your shirt, fingertips brushing over your skin, making your skin burn.

“Did you have that talk with Abby?” You whispered against his lips, your hands stopping to rest on his shoulders. You knew this wasn't the right time to ask, but it had been bothering you ever since that day in his room.

Mike's eyes flickered open, his dark gaze focused on your face. His hands slid up to cup your cheeks. "It's not really a talk when she just yells at me," he replied, and you had a feeling he was just trying to make you feel better.

"Did she?" You couldn't help but smile.

Mike's gaze shifted from your eyes, down your neck and to your chest, where he rested his forehead against you. You let out a small, nervous laugh, but his silence was starting to worry you. "Mike?"

He gave a small shake of his head. "It's not a big deal."

"Did she give you a time-out?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood, but when Mike's eyes closed, your stomach sank.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and your hands slid out from under his shirt and into his hair. "Mikey?" You asked softly.

His dark hair was mussed up from your hands and he sighed. He lifted his head to look at you again, and his lips were pulled down into a frown. "She told me she didn't want me to date you," he finally replied, and you felt your chest tighten.

"Why?" Your voice was so quiet, so unsure, and Mike's expression softened. His thumb brushed over your cheek. Not that it was what you wanted to hear, but at least it wasn't the 'I can't be with you' that you were almost expecting.

Mike's gaze flickered away again, as if he were trying to think of what he could say that wouldn't hurt your feelings. He wasn't going to be able to come up with anything.

"She really does just hate me," you said, more to yourself than Mike, and you could feel the tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. You were too scared to look at him, so you just focused on his hair in your hands. You ran your fingers through it, smoothing it out.

Mike shook his head. "She doesn't hate you. I know she doesn’t."

"Yeah, that’s what you said earlier." You pulled your hands from his hair and held them at your chest. "Why else would she say that?"

Mike let out a long breath. He closed his eyes, and his thumb stroked your cheek again.

"I don't know,” he whispered. He was so quiet you almost missed it. “But what I do know is that I’m not listening to her."

“Abby isn’t going to appreciate that.” You knew she wasn't. It wasn't Abby you were worried about though. You were worried about your relationship with Mike. You didn't want it to be ruined because of something that Abby couldn't seem to let go of.

Mike sighed again, and his fingers brushed your jaw as he moved in close. His hand slid behind your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. "I don't care," he whispered.

"Abby-" You tried to argue, but Mike interrupted.

"She’ll come around eventually," he assured you, though he sounded unsure. He brushed his lips over your cheek. "I have faith in you," he whispered against your ear.

“That’s a lot of faith given how she treated me when you left for work. I’m surprised I got out unscathed,” you said with a forced laugh, but you could feel the small smile on his lips against your cheek.

He pulled back, but kept his hands on your cheeks, his gaze moving from your eyes to your lips. "I was worse, remember? I almost ran you over by how agitated and tired I was."

You laughed, but the memory still made you shiver. "That is true."

He leaned in again, brushing his nose against yours. “Who would’ve thought I'd end up falling in love with the girl who made me want to rip out my hair and punch holes in walls?"

Your chest tightened again. "Really? I annoy you that much?"

“Like a mosquito, constantly buzzing around my ear." He whispered. His eyes flickered down to your mouth again, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as your heart began to race. “But somehow I can't bring myself to shoo you away."

"Oh gee, I'm so flattered," you said with a laugh, but Mike didn't join you. Instead, he just smirked.

"I think I might like having you around too much," he whispered, his gaze shifting back to your lips again. You could feel his warm breath on your mouth and you forgot how to breathe.

"Too bad Abby doesn't feel the same," you muttered, but Mike just shook his head.

"She's just being a bit protective." He leaned in again, his mouth brushing against yours. Your whole body tingled as you held your breath, and Mike's hands slid to your jaw. His thumbs stroked your cheeks.

"I don't need her protection," he whispered, his voice a deep, husky growl.

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm." His mouth was on yours, his kiss gentle and warm. His fingers ran through your hair as you leaned into it, melting against him as your heart pounded in your chest. His mouth moved to your jaw, and then down your neck. You tilted your head back, your fingers digging into his hair, your lips parting in a gasp as his teeth teased your skin.

He started kissing you again, and you were so caught up in the kiss that you were caught off guard when his hand slid down your thigh. You were still wearing jeans and your shirt, and Mike's hand was suddenly there, tugging at the fabric of your jeans. Your eyes opened, but all you could see was him, his face hovering over you as his dark eyes looked down at your body.

Your chest was heaving as you stared at him, but his mouth was moving to your neck again, your pulse fluttering under his tongue. You felt his fingers in the waistband of your jeans, then sliding inside, and your eyes rolled back in your head at how good it felt.

“What if I drew her a picture? I know Abby loves art." You thought of how you and Abby would spend hours drawing together on her bed when she was younger, back when she actually appreciated you. You thought of her new obsession with painting and how much she loved it, but the idea of drawing a picture for her lured you.

"That's probably not a bad idea," Mike muttered, his hand stopping its movement inside your jeans. The kisses continued down your neck and chest though, and you couldn't help but smile. You missed Abby, missed how your relationship was before. It was hard, but maybe drawing a picture would be a good way to start.

“I could even do the background of the drawing in bright colors.” You knew she loved colors that popped, pink and purple had been her favorite for a while. Maybe upon glancing at it, she’d realize that you indeed cared.

"It sounds like you want to bust out the crayons now," he teased, his voice soft as his mouth trailed over your collarbone.

You rolled your eyes. "Don’t give me any ideas."

Mike just let out a low chuckle. It didn’t bother you that he was completely right, because you did want to actually color, but it mainly just made you wonder what your relationship would be like if you hadn't lost Abby, if she had been your best friend for so many years and not a bitter stranger who would rather ignore you than speak to you.

It made your chest ache, and Mike's lips on your body helped to take your mind off it, but it still weighed down on your chest.

"What if she doesn’t like it? I don’t think I can handle that type of rejection.” You felt so pathetic saying it, but you couldn't stop yourself.

Mike lifted his head. His dark eyes studied your face for a long time, but then he just gave a small smile. "I think she will."

"How do you know that?" You asked. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because she loves you," he said simply, as if he were telling you the sky was blue or the sun was shining outside. You stared up at him, speechless. "She loves you more than anything, and I know she doesn't hate you. I don't believe it for a second."

Your mouth was dry, and your chest felt tight. "Mike-" You started, but he silenced you by covering your mouth with his. The kiss was hard, passionate, and when he pulled away, your breathing was ragged.

"I think you need to start trusting me, trust my judgment," he whispered, and he started kissing you again, his mouth trailing down your neck. His hand slipped under your shirt, his palm sliding up your belly. Your stomach fluttered, but you couldn't take your mind off how you felt, the way it weighed down on you and made your chest hurt.

"What if she does hate me?" You whispered, your voice cracking. Mike stopped, and he rested his chin on your chest. He lifted his gaze to yours.

"I know her," he said. "And I know you."

"That doesn't always mean something." Your voice was barely audible. You let out a long breath. You were trying to think about how to get her to come back to you, but the thoughts were just jumbling in your head. "I'm worried about what I'm going to do if she still won't talk to me. I don't know what that'll mean for me and you."

Mike sat up. His hand rested on your belly. You looked up at him, and his dark gaze studied your face, his eyes filled with concern.

"You have nothing to worry about, okay?" He whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Mike," you whispered, but he just shook his head.

"I'm serious. I don't care what she says." He cupped your cheek. "But you need to stop worrying about that."

"I can't." You felt so helpless. "You know I can't."

He gave you a sad smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He leaned in again, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I know."

You reached for his hand, but you could feel it starting to shake. You slipped your fingers into his, your thumb running over the back of his hand as you gazed up at him.

He smiled down at you. "But maybe you should start focusing on us instead." He suggested, giving you a mischievous smirk.

"What do you mean?" You asked, your eyes shifting from his mouth to his eyes again.

"Well, I still have about an hour before my shift. Maybe you can keep my mind off work and I’ll keep yours off of Abby."

“That’s…an idea I like," You whispered, and Mike chuckled. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and needy. You were losing your breath again, and he rolled on top of you. Your body was tingling, and you ran your hands up under his shirt to touch his warm skin.

He wasn’t wrong. For that remaining hour all you could think about was him, and he seemed just as focused on you. It actually eased your mind, and when it was over you felt better.

After Mike left for work again, you immediately got started on your little drawing project. You didn't know why it was so hard to just color something, but you were determined. You kept telling yourself Abby would appreciate the effort, and Mike was right, you just had to believe in him.

When Abby returned from school the following day, you were waiting with a smile on your face. It wasn't much, but it was bright and happy. You couldn't imagine it looked good, but at least it was something.

However, Abby didn’t respond. In fact she didn’t even look at the drawing you handed to her. Her face remained blank as she took it and walked away, her shoes echoing down the hall.

Your whole body deflated, and you sunk into the couch. Great, another failed attempt. You thought about calling Mike, but you didn't want to bother him when he was busy, so you just closed your eyes and laid there for a while, wondering how long it would be until he was back from doing errands.

You left his house saddened and disappointed, and you couldn’t even bother to pick up the phone when Mike had called later that day. You just curled up under the blankets in your bed, feeling even more hopeless than before.

Though, if you had picked up that phone, you wouldn’t have been feeling this way because unbeknownst to you, Mike had gone into Abby’s room for a spare pen and discovered that she hadn't thrown out your drawing.

In fact, it was taped to her mirror, where she could see it every time she looked into her own eyes. Underneath it was a crumpled up piece of paper with a crudely drawn stick figure of Mike and a crudely drawn one of you. Both had little hearts next to their faces.

He was totally going to give you the “I told you so” about Abby come tomorrow, but for the time being he just couldn't help but smile.

This was for you guys:

@raviolisblog

@kxllanxtdoor

@nagicats

@auryyz

Hope it met your standards 🫶✨

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes Chapter 7 part 1

in which the bats start to suspect that something is going on with Jason

Masterpost

“No, I'm at Jason's place,” Dick read out loud. “Have fun without me.” He put his hands on his hips. “I think I'm offended. Are you offended?” 

Damian shrugged, cheeks hollowed around a juice box straw. He had under eye wrinkles from a long day of being a small child. Dick felt vaguely tempted to squish his cheeks, but the bites were still healing from last time and he needed dexterity to grapple.

“I'm deeply offended and think you should remind Jason who is the alpha older brother.” Tim didn't stop his keyboard mashing, splayed upside down on the back of the sofa. His neck was squashed at an uncomfortable looking angle. “Go get Duke and give him fundamental childhood memories. Now is your time to shine. Teach him how to ride a bicycle or Jason will do it for you.” 

Dick hummed skeptically. He paced a little. “Duke probably knows how to ride a bike. But still.” He took a couple of steps while he wrestled with himself. “I know that you’re trying to encourage the worst in me.” He tapped his fingers against his hipbone rapidly. 

It wasn’t going to work. He didn’t need to be competitive about this. Duke wasn’t really picking Jason over him, he was just- choosing to be with Jason instead of Dick. No big deal.

“Are you really going to take Jason take a W over you?” Tim didn’t even look over at him. 

“He’s not winning anything.” Dick frowned at the distance, out the window. It was just that usually these few hours in between Duke’s patrol and bedtime lined up well with his free time after work, before patrol. He liked having the family together. He liked that they hung out in the TV room and fought for control of the TV. It built character, and he wasn’t saying that just because he usually won.

“He’s winning,” Tim said darkly. “You’re letting Duke get away from you.” 

Dick ripped away Tim’s DS player and scowled down at him. “Stop trying to rile me up,” he demanded.

Tim gave him a shitty smile. “You’re right. It’s probably better if Duke hangs out with Jason. What’s one more bird who avoids the Manor? We can be a family from a distance. You don’t really need to see Duke grow up.”

“You suck.” Dick let go of the DS and stalked out of the TV room. He ignored the instant scramble behind him as Damian and Tim fought for control of the TV. Tim was probably doomed to two hours of Animal Planet, but Dick felt no mercy as he grabbed his riding jacket and jogged to the upstairs parking garage. He passed Bruce and they exchanged a silent nod. 

Jason’s place was annoyingly far away from the Manor. Dick steamed inside his motorcycle helmet for the first ten minutes and then decided to be a better, more cheerful person, and also to do some recon. He called up Roy on his headset. “He-ey,” he sang with the line picked up.

“Dickie McDickface,” Roy said evenly. “Fancy hearing from you.”

“Oh please, McDickface is my father.” Dick swerved around a car that was merging without a turn signal and then gunned the engine so that he could get even with the driver and show them his middle finger. “You can just call me Baby.”

“Will do, sweet cheeks.” Something snapped in the background and then a humming started up. Microwave? “What’s up? You calling just to flirt or do you need to see my face?”

“Just thought of you,” Dick lied breezily. “Since I’m on my way to see my little wing and he’s tried so hard to subsume my place in your heart.” He tightened his grip on his motorcycle handles.

“You really don’t need to compete with him.” Roy said blandly. “You’re different people. I can have friendships with multiple people without one of them being the alpha friend.”

Dick made an unconvinced hum and took a sharp left turn onto the freeway. “If you say so. I’m not arguing with a man with beautiful brown eyes.” 

Roy sniggered. “You’re terrible.”

Dick grinned. Gottem.

“I don’t think Jason wants my heart,” he said wryly. “You can relax.”

Dick got much tenser. “Oh?” he prompted. Say what you know! Reveal Jason’s secrets!

“I think he’s got someone else in the picture, he deep-cleaned his place again and last week he sent me pictures of him in three identical black leather jackets asking which gave off more of an air of careless sophistication.” A pan clattered.

“I’m sure they weren’t identical,” Dick said, a little distracted by how hopeless Roy always was about these things. “What were the lapels like?” 

A few cars ahead sirens blared and then there was a momentous crash. Glass sparkled high in the air and someone skidded across the pavement while Roy chattered on.

“Anyway, I’m actually making dinner right now. Right, sweetheart? Wanna say hello to Uncle Dickie?” Roy cooed, voice going slightly unfocused as he moved away from the speaker. 

A multi-car pileup crashed into place ahead of him.

“Oh, Lian is there!” Dick hit the brakes hard and safely settled to the side of the mess. “Hi, princess!”  He puttered through the scene at a low speed, checking everyone out. “How was your day? Did you kick ass on the bar at preschool?” Fender bender, fender bender, angry woman obviously calling the police- seemed fine. Dick hit the throttle and passed the wreck on the side.

A faint childish voice spoke in the background, utterly incomprehensible. Roy translated after a second, deadpan. “Boy Wonder, she says that she conquered like a roman general. She was as powerful and beloved as the second- no, sorry, she said the first emperor of the Chin dynasty. Lian, I corrected- I said the first!”

Dick winced. “Yeah, the first emperor was better,” he said. Massive understatement.  “So proud of you, Li-Li!”

“I better let you go. Take care, Dickie. Hope Gotham doesn’t treat you too mean.” 

“Gotham is a sweetheart,” Dick said cheerfully. “Enjoy dinner!” He cut the call and grinned to himself, thinking over the new information.

His first thought was that Roy was off-base and Jason had cleaned his apartment because Duke was coming over. But Roy was right about the jacket– Jason wouldn’t be worried about his clothes to impress a sibling.

‘What does this have to do with Duke?’ 

He turned that part of the puzzle over in his mind as he approached Park Row. It could be a coincidence, sure, but he could smell something more interesting here. It made more sense for there to be a connection than for there to be two changes to routine in a short time frame.

The only thing to do about it was to let himself into Jason’s apartment building, hoist open the staircase window on the floor below Jason’s apartment, and free climb up the wall to let himself onto Jason’s balcony. Jason’s door was only accessible by code, and he was aiming for stealth this time. Dick hunkered down to listen closely.

Duke was definitely in there. He could hear the faint music of a boss battle coming from inside.

‘...That’s definitely weird,’ Dick noted, getting excited about it. ‘Jason doesn’t own games. What’s Duke got on him? Is it blackmail? What do I have to do to force Duke to tell me?’

[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[traveler-at-heart]

Game, Set, Match

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a professional tennis player, struggling to go back to the top and win the US Open. Reluctant at first, she allows a sports journalist into her life... and a bit more.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R - Ya know it, fluffy af.

A/N: I love tennis and this was basically written for me. But @canvascoloredin is also a fan and thought, ok well, let's post it, maybe someone else will enjoy :)

“Thirty all”

She’s catching up, do something.

“Forty, thirty”

“Deuce”

“Come on, Natasha” her sister yells from the box.

Advantage, Romanoff.

Game, set, match. Natasha Romanoff.

Everything that happens after is a blur. Natasha feels like she just played the final, but in reality, it’s just the first round.

“Way to go, darling” her mother compliments when she’s back in the locker rooms, but Fury is quickly behind, not holding back.

“Three sets against an amateur and you won because she got nervous and got a double fault. That’s not good” 

“I beat her, didn’t I?” Natasha averts her eyes, putting on her jacket to go to the press room.

“Barely” her trainer mumbles. 

Natasha’s heart beats fast as she sits in front of all the journalists. They were warned about the questions they could ask, but still. Natasha feels all eyes on her, judging her reaction and demeanor.

“Did you worry about losing control at the start of the third set?” a man in the front row asks.

“It was the defining moment of the game, so I felt like I had to push myself harder and control the rhythm of the match. Which obviously happened”

“How was it to go back after your break? Unlike other players, you didn’t participate in any tournaments between Wimbledon and this”

“I’ve been playing tennis all my life, really, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal to me. Just because I wasn’t playing to win titles doesn’t mean I didn’t train” 

Natasha hears Fury cough and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Control your temper, he’s trying to say.

Well, maybe they shouldn’t ask stupid questions.

--

You’re sitting in the middle of the press room, eyes trained on Natasha. She’s looking anywhere but you. 

I guess this means she read my column.

The conference is coming to an end, so you raise your hand and the assistant points at you.

“We have time for one more” he concedes.

“That’s enough for today” Natasha shuts it down before you can ask. 

Yeah, she definitely read the article.

Natasha can’t wait to get out of there, thanking the press before sprinting out of the room. You consider following her, but a text from your boss stops you.

Go to LA Stadium, Wanda Maximoff just bageled some poor girl.

With a bit of luck, you’ll get an exclusive with Wanda.

--

The biggest crime of Shostakov

It was a Tuesday afternoon, well into the second week of Wimbledon, when the news broke out. Alexei Shostakov, retired tennis player, was arrested for fraud and tax evasion. While in custody, it was discovered Shostakov was in possession of drugs.

The famous Red Guardian, who once had won on that very same club, was now dragged away in a patrol car, stripped of his days of glory. For people who are well versed in the history of tennis, this doesn’t come as a complete shock. Shostakov was a notorious trouble maker, often breaking rackets, ripping his shirts open and getting expelled from a total of 15 matches during the entire run of his career.

No one seemed more affected by the news than his protegee and adoptive daughter, Natasha Romanoff. The favorite to win the world’s most important Grand Slam retired amid the breaking news. As a result, Wanda Maximoff’s path to the trophy was an easy one, taking the number 1 from Romanoff while she was at it.

If her career depends on Alexei’s ability to get back on his feet, Natasha Romanoff should retire now.

In her best form, Romanoff is stealthy, precise and absolutely lethal. Her movements reminisce those of a ballerina; one that gracefully dances across the court -doesn’t matter if it’s grass, clay or hard- to deliver blow after blow of brilliance. Natasha has raw talent, pure heart and an unbreakable spirit.

The biggest crime of Shostakov, is that he’s in the way of her greatness. Maybe it’s his ego or a compulsion to attach himself to a woman who has the capacity to break every record from the Open Era.

Whatever the reason, it’s clear she’s better off without him. For those of us who love this sport, and want Natasha to be the champion she was meant to be, this is an unique opportunity to watch her finally emerge from the shadows of the overbearing man.

The proverbial ball is in Romanoff’s court. In all her brilliance, the one thing Natasha rarely does is take risks.

It’s never too late to start.

--

“We’re finishing the second day of the US Open and we have some major upsets. Carol Danvers, number 3 in the world and only American in the top ten lost to Brit Peggy Carter” you say, holding the mic and looking at the camera.

“I understand there was some excitement on the man’s singles” you hear Maria say on your earpiece and you nod.

“Queens had a face off with Brooklyn today. Bucky Barnes defeated amateur Peter Parker, but get this! They played five sets, and Peter won every tiebreak. So it seems like we have some exciting new talent”

“We’ll keep an eye on him, for sure. Thanks for the report, Y/N!”

“A pleasure as usual, Maria. Greetings to everyone back on the studio” 

“And cut” Darcy, your producer says. You remove the earpiece and hand over the mic. As you turn around, you spot Natasha training. It’s obvious you’re staring when Darcy speaks.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know? You wrote what a lot of people were thinking”

“Well, seems like she doesn’t wanna hear it”

“It’s fine. I mean, it would be better if we could get a quote from her or an interview but if she hates you that much we can get someone else to do it”

“Or, I could go and try to talk to her?”

“So you have a death wish!”

“Didn’t you just say I did nothing wrong?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll listen. I am also legally obligated to tell you that your health insurance doesn’t cover injuries caused by tennis balls. Or rackets”

“Very funny”

--

“Relax your wrist” Fury instructs once again and Natasha ignores him, as usual.

She hates the press, the interviews, the hoops she has to jump through just so she can play tennis. 

None of it is optional and she has to follow the rules, something Natasha is particularly bad at.

“If you want to move to the next round you’re gonna have to listen to me”

Does she really want to move to the next round? Is there a point to all of this? She had lost her number one ranking and people were focusing more on her private life than her career.

Fury spots you across the court and smiles. 

You nod your head towards the man and he sighs, defeated.

“Can you talk some sense into her?” 

“Can anyone?” you say and he pats you on the back, leaving the court. The sun is setting and people are going home, ready to return tomorrow to watch the next round of players. You greet Natasha but she ignores you.

“You owe me a question” you try to joke, as she keeps hitting the ball so hard you think her racket will break in half. 

“I know who you are and I’m not talking to you” 

She looks hot when she’s pissed.

You push those thoughts away.

“Natasha”

“No, you and I are not on a first name basis. Not after you wrote all that crap about me without knowing me” 

“I only spoke the truth” 

“That my career is doomed and I should retire?” she finally stops throwing balls across the court and turns to look at you.

“Oh, my God! You didn’t even read it, did you?”

“I don’t need to. I know what everyone's been saying ever since Alexei was arrested. I know he was unconventional, but he was my trainer. He was beside me through the good and bad” 

“I get it, ok? He’s your family. And your trainer. That’s never easy and I understand how it can be hard to see things objectively. But,  Natasha, you are great in spite of him, not because of him”

That makes her pause.

“Nick Fury came out of retirement to train you. That’s how talented you are!”

The redhead serves a couple of times, staying completely silent.

“I’m not talking to you” she reminds you. 

“You’re the best player out there, Natasha. And right now you’re the only thing getting in the way of your success” 

--

Morning comes and so does the next match. Natasha is looking out the window of the suite, as people come and go around the busy streets of the tennis center.

Fury steps in, immediately aware of her nervous energy. If he asks if she’s ready, she’ll probably rip his head off. So, talking about something different might be the way to go.

“Her father was also a sports journalist,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Who?” 

“Y/N. Richard was a single parent, so he’d always bring her to the games, even as a baby. She behaved better than most people too” 

“Is he retired?” 

“Nope. Cancer. Four years ago” Fury sits in front of Natasha. “Didn’t expect her to follow his steps, but that girl really knows sports. She’s working with the local station, and also writes for Sports Illustrated”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Never hurts to have a couple of friends around,” he says, sipping from his glass.

“I’m not good at making friends” Natasha looks away.

“Yeah, I know. You’re good at tennis, so…” the man checks his watch and stands up. “Let’s kick some ass”

--

Natasha has to face Kate Bishop, currently ranked 24. Her game is the opposite of aggressive, but she’s famous for her impeccable aim. Natasha has to control the game from the start if she wants to win.

She serves first, and as she bounces the ball, preparing her stance, Fury’s words echo in her head. All the advice he has given her for the past months, advice that she has consistently ignored.

Then, as she throws the ball, her eyes meet yours. You’re sitting in the front row, leaning forward. 

In a split second, she makes a decision.

Natasha is ready to take risks.

She aims for the corner of the service box, hoping it will fall inside. Kate lunges forward, shocked at the speed of the ball.

“Ace” the umpire announces. “Fifteen love” 

Natasha sees you clapping and can hear Fury shouting “That’s it, you can do this, Romanoff”

And boy, does she deliver. Kate is running across the court. Natasha’s unforced errors are incredibly low. While the crowd usually loves long games, the redhead is a legend and they’re excited to see her prowess first hand. 

The game ends in 47 minutes, 6-3, 6-2.

Kate approaches the net and shakes Natasha’s hand.

“That was… incredible, Romanoff”

“Thank you, Kate” 

The kind words and the genuine admiration make Natasha relax instantly.

Of course, the crowd goes wild as the redhead lifts her arms, clapping and waving. 

She’s in such a good mood that she decides she’ll finally take your question. But as she enters the press room, you’re nowhere to be found. 

Still, she chats and even jokes around with the journalists present.

Once again, the entire family celebrates as if Natasha had already won the Grand Slam.

“Seestra, the crowd was going craaaazy, it was like a Taylor Swift concert” Yelena tells her excitedly as they eat. Natasha’s starving, so nervous about today that she didn’t even have breakfast.

They keep chatting, talking about strategy for the next game and wondering who will go against Natasha next. 

“Natalia, your father wants to talk to you” Melina interrupts, holding her phone.

“Why?” Natasha snaps, going back to her stoic self.

“He wants to congratulate you,” the woman insists.

“I’m not in the mood. Excuse me” she stands up, losing her appetite.

Out on the terrace, she watches people passing by, trying to think of anything else but Alexei.

Your words come back to her, and she starts to believe them.

You are great in spite of him.

“Hey, there you are!” you shout from the bottom of the stairs, waving. “Do you have a sec?”

Natasha nods, going down. 

“First of all, wow. Brava”

“You wanted something?” she rolls her eyes, but you notice she blushes lightly.

It’s quite the view, Natasha’s body covered in sweat from the physical exertion, her sculpted arms in full display.

That tennis outfit looks really good on her.

“Oh.. yeah. Do you, uh, have time to meet a fan? She’s a little girl and you’re her favorite player”

“Of course” 

“Awesome, come with me!” you take her by the hand.

Natasha tries to ignore the tingling feeling she gets as she’s dragged around the center. Some people recognise her, but you’re walking fast and they don’t have the chance to stop her for a picture.

“Hey, Ava!” you greet the little girl, who’s holding a big tennis ball and a black marker. “Natasha, meet Ava. She’s your number one fan” 

“Hi,” the girl says shyly. She’s about nine, her mother standing next to her and smiling.

“Hi, Ava. It’s so nice to meet you” Natasha greets. “How are you liking the tournament so far?” 

“Uh, it was great, and you were so awesome today!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Would you like me to sign that?”

“Yes, please!” her arms shoot forward, anxiously. 

“What other players would you like to meet?” Natasha says, as she signs the ball.

“Maybe Peter Parker… We met Carol Danvers, Bucky Barnes and also, Wanda”

Yeah, Natasha didn’t miss the way Maximoff signed the ball. 

From the number 1 player to the number 1 fan. 

So pretentious.

“That’s nice,” Natasha says, handing the ball back.

“Alright, let’s take a picture” you pull out your phone. Natasha kneels to be closer to Ava, and then places her tennis hat on the girl’s head.

“You can have it” Natasha smiles and is surprised when she gets a very enthusiastic hug. Her mother has to practically drag her away from where you’re standing, Ava turning around every couple of steps to wave at Natasha.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say, smiling.

“It’s not a problem. I didn’t see you in today’s press conference”

“That’s because it’s my day off” you say, surprised that she noticed your absence.

“What about that thing?” she points at the badge hanging from your neck that reads Press.

“That’s how I get in for free, duh” 

“Sneaky” 

“I can be” you shrug your shoulders and then turn back to your phone. “Hey, so can I send this to your PR team for them to post it?” 

“You don’t have to” 

“Fine, I’ll post it on my feed and tag you. Alright, gotta go. Have to cheer for Bucky” you say, taking her hand one last time. “Once again, thank you. And congrats. You were fantastic”

“I owe you a question” she calls when you’re walking away.

“I’m saving it for when you win the championship” you wink and she smiles, scratching the side of her neck nervously.

Later that day, her phone is blasting with notifications.

“Almost one million likes, Natasha” Yelena shows her the picture you uploaded of her and Ava.

“Is that good or bad?” the redhead shrugs her shoulders and her sister rolls her eyes.

“You’re so uncool!” 

However, she knows enough about Instagram to find your profile, going through your feed. Most of the pictures are from different games, some hangout with friends, the most frequent ones being Barnes and a pro that plays for the Yankees, Sam Wilson.

She’s about to close the app when two things that are equally horrible happen.

First, she likes one of your pictures from two years ago.

Second, she gets a message.

OfficialWandaMaximoff: Congrats on your win today <3

--

Bucky just lost the second set and is down on the third one. You keep refreshing the feed as you wait next to other journalists for Wanda Maximoff. 

Of course she’s in the quarter finals, that’s hardly a shock. Everyone’s waiting for her to face Natasha in the finals. When it happens, you’re obviously rooting for Nat.

Speaking of which…

@SportsBrooklyn: Good luck tomorrow! 

@NatashaROfficial followed you back

@NatashaROfficial: Do you only use Instagram or can you text like a normal person?

@SportsBrooklyn: Oh, right, text you to the number I don’t have!

Wanda walks in that moment and you lock your phone. Her auburn hair is tied in a high ponytail, and she changed to her signature red windbreaker and black pants.

You’re busy taking notes when your phone pings again. To your surprise, Natasha actually gave you her phone number.

@NatashaROfficial: If you share it with anyone else I’ll choke you

@SportsBrooklyn: Kinky ;)

The press conference ends and you practically sprint out to see if you can catch the rest of Bucky’s game.

You have to settle for the screens on the Champions Bar, comforted by the fact that Bucky seems to be ahead on the third set. As soon as he wins it, you stand up, knowing the break is the perfect time to slip into the player’s box.

“I’m so sorry” you say as you crash into none other than Wanda Maximoff. She grabs your arm to steady herself, smiling to ease you.

“That’s alright. You’re in a hurry?” she says, turning at the screen. 

“A bit, yeah” 

“I wish someone as cute as you was rooting for me” she smiles, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s flirting? Oh boy. “I noticed you looking at your phone during the press conference. Barnes is a lucky guy” 

“Oh, we’re not…” 

“Here I was thinking he was smarter than that”

There’s a sense of urgency to go before the break is over, but you’re also completely confused. Why is Wanda Maximoff taking an interest in a local reporter? You’re vaguely aware that her eyes drift somewhere behind you from time to time, but before you can turn and have a look, she pulls your press badge and smiles.

“If you ever want an exclusive, just let me know, Y/N…” she reads the name from your press badge and walks away, leaving you completely confused.

--

Natasha watches the entire interaction from her small table. She needed a break so she decided to put on a hat and glasses, to get a drink without being recognised.

Wanda was all over you, giggling and looking Natasha’s way as much as she could, to let her know this was entirely to upset her.

All Natasha wanted to do was stand up and take you away from Wanda. You were too good for someone like Maximoff.

Wanda thought she was making Natasha jealous. 

She was right, but not in the way she would have wanted to.

--

“Maybe it’s time I retire” 

“You’re 28” 

“Might as well be 100 in tennis years” 

“Buck” you nudge him.

You’re looking out the Brooklyn Bridge, trying to cheer up your best friend after losing in the round of 16.

“You won the Australian Open this year” 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. See? I’m senile” he mumbles, still grumpy.

“You did great, and you’re still in the top five, Grumpa. Ha! See what I did there?” he rolls his eyes and you smile, pulling him back to the street. “Come on, Sam is waiting for us to have some lunch” 

“Ok, but it’s on you because I’ll be broke once I retire” 

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes, looping your arms together and dragging him to your favorite dinner. Sam’s already there, chatting around with everyone that recognises him.

All eyes turn to you as he stands up and practically shouts.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Sam greets you and then slaps Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t make that face, man. You won the aussie one”

“That’s what I told him” 

Bucky takes his jacket off and orders a beer as soon as the waiter approaches you; even if it’s only noon, you let it slide.

You get a text from Darcy, asking if you’re watching the game.

Your mind instantly goes to Natasha. Did she lose? No, that can’t be. She was playing against Van Dyne, who was only there because of a wild card. You turn to one of the screens and ask the waiter to change the channel. 

“She’s winning” you say, still not understanding what Darcy meant.

“Why does she look so upset, then?” Sam points out.

Natasha is arguing with the umpire. You recognise him immediately.

“I hate that guy,” Bucky says, echoing your thoughts.

“Jarvis… something. Stone?” 

“Yeah, a total asshole. Wouldn’t give me a point I clearly won on Wimbledon because the other player was also a Brit” 

The argument ends and she keeps playing. Her forehand is killer today.

“Wow” Bucky says at the same time as you gasp.

“Man, I feel so dumb right now” Sam is looking between both of you, not knowing what caused your reaction.

“Just now? It’s more like, always” Bucky teases and Sam glares. He rolls his eyes and points at the screen. “Van Dyne hit after a double bounce. That’s not allowed. But Stone clearly doesn’t give a shit. He’s giving her the point”

“Natasha stopped playing because she saw it. He claims he didn’t so in his mind, she lost this one” you keep explaining.

“If Hope had a little bit of integrity, she’d concede the point or play it again”

“Well, she’s losing so she’ll take all the help she can get” you say. 

Natasha’s rage fuels her after this and she ends up winning, the second set a devastating 6-0.

However, the two men on the screen are being unsurprisingly critical of her. Your stomach turns when you hear the words “emotional” and “aggressive” thrown around.

Even if it’s a long shot, you try calling her. Phone’s off.

If you’re lucky, you’ll manage to see her once you get back to the stadium.

--

“Turn it off,” Natasha grumbles. Fury is watching the news in the living room. 

“I wanna see the highlights of other players. Prepare for what’s coming next. If you don’t like it, leave the room” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

After the game, Natasha did the mandatory press conference, went back to the lockers, destroyed two rackets, took a shower and then looked out the window for the better part of the day. 

She wasn’t in the mood to do anything and she didn’t want to turn on her phone. The temptation to read what the press and public had to say about her after today’s argument with the umpire was too big.

“Y/N, how are things at the US Open?” Maria Hill says. The screen splits, your image appearing on the right side.

“Exciting names on both sides for the semis. We have Thor against Banner, and T'Challa faces Namor for a spot in the semis. As for the ladies, Maximoff breezed through the match against Jean Gray”

“Well, I understand Romanoff didn’t have it so easy,” Maria says. 

From her seat, Natasha holds her breath. Yelena walks in at that exact moment, watching her sister closely.

“You know, I find it unbelievable that an umpire at the US Open could make such a poor call, not once but twice. First, with the hindrance call against Natasha and then by completely ignoring the double bounce before Van Dyne hit the ball” you say, clearly upset. “We’ve seen time and time again that some umpires are not up to the standards set by Grand Slams. And to my fellow journalists who like to throw around words like emotional, better save that energy for the men that smash their rackets just because they lost a point. As we all saw, Romanoff was in her right to demand fairness and she did it with the utmost respect” 

“Yes, I completely agree with you” Maria nods, clearly regretting even asking about it. “Well, let us chat tomorrow after we have the final for the men” 

“Of course, Maria,” you nod.

Natasha tries really hard, but she can’t help but smile at your words.

Yelena arches her eyebrows.

Well, this is interesting.

--

Natasha refuses to leave her room, arguing she’s not hungry. Melina, Yelena and Fury leave her alone, but the sudden silence becomes too much. There’s no noise to stop her thoughts from spiraling.

With a sigh, she turns on her phone. Two messages come through.

Y/N: Sorry about today. That umpire sucks :( 

Y/N: Bucky hates him too

Next thing she sees is a picture of Bucky and you holding your middle fingers to the screen with Jarvis’ face. Natasha chuckles at that.

She also zooms in, checking that your other hand is very close to Bucky’s. She feels a pang of jealousy that is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Room service” a strange voice says.

“I didn’t order any..:” she says, but finds you smiling on the other side of the door.

“Gotcha” 

“What are you doing here?” the redhead can’t help but smile. You’re wearing a black leather jacket, a white tee and skin tight jeans. She’s torn between admiring your figure and paying attention to what you say next.

“Little bird told me you were very upset and you might need a distraction” 

“I’m gonna kill Fury” 

“Not Nick. Your sister. And are we gonna find something to eat by standing here or…?”

“I’m not hungry” 

“We’re going, Natasha. Go get changed” you push past her, tired of waiting around in the hallway. She’s taken aback by your forwardness. Her mother and sister would usually let her get away with anything.

“Where are we going?” she asks, hoping you won’t go all the way to her room and pick an outfit for her.

“Something casual will do” 

She changes as fast as she can, taking her phone and some money with her. You nod approvingly and then open the door, peeking around the hallway.

“This little field trip is not Fury approved so let’s be discreet about it” you inform her, taking her hand to lead the way to the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, this is super discreet” Natasha complains as you lead her to an electrical carriage. 

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” you climb up, offering your hand. She takes and sits next to you. Natasha resists the urge to put a strand of hair behind your ear as you lean forward to give the address.

You feel her eyes on you, so you turn back, smiling and blushing lightly. 

It’s a short ride, and soon after you enter a small diner.

“Hey, Y/N” the owner greets you. “My, this must be a special occasion” she leans towards Natasha and whispers. “She’s never brought a girl over”

“Ok, Pat! Natasha is just a friend” you clarify, blushing in the process. Natasha laughs at you.

“Why? She’s pretty. You need to start dating” Pat says, leaving two menus.

“Don’t bother” you stop Natasha as she starts reading it. “She’ll bring us whatever she wants. But it will be worth it, I promise”

“Do you come here often?”

“My dad couldn’t cook if his life depended on it. But he was always good at finding the best spots to eat. So we came here all the time during the US Open and then later when Bucky started training”

Natasha nods and looks away. 

“So, you’re not dating Barnes either?” she says, looking anywhere but you. It’s embarrassing how much she cares.

“Uh.. no. He’s like a brother to me. His parents worked a lot so he’d tag along to games with us, and we grew up together” you wait until she turns to look at you. “Can I ask now?”

“Is this off the record?”

“Do you see my press badge anywhere?”

“One never knows with you people”

“Ouch, Natasha” the redhead laughs but you ask anyway. “Are you dating anyone? You’ve never been public about it”

“I’m not, no. I just don’t think I’d be able to find the balance. Between tennis and a partner. And my public and private life”

“Fair enough” you say. Pat approaches with milkshakes, cheeseburgers and fries.

“I hope you girls are hungry”

“Starving” 

“Fury’s gonna kill me” Natasha sighs, but then dips a fry in the milkshake and practically moans at the taste.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, and your teeth clash at how fast you shut it when Natasha turns to you.

“You’re right, this is worth it”

The rest of the night is spent eating and talking about everything but tennis. You learn that Natasha likes to bake in her free time, and that Yelena is taking a sabbatical before moving to New York to study at NYU.

After finishing your food, you both agree that walking back will be the best idea. 

“I’m so full” you complain as you enter through the back, too scared to be caught by Fury. Natasha walks in the opposite direction of the foyer. “Uh, what are you doing? I don’t want your coach all over my ass if you’re missing” 

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” she echoes your words from before and you have no choice but to follow her. You end up on a tennis court, balls scattered around the floor.

“Do you practice here?”

“If I can’t sleep” Natasha picks up a ball and a racket and hands it to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Play with me”

“I can’t even serve, Natasha”

“Well, would you like to learn?” she says with a smirk and you can’t resist it.

“Fine. But after that, you go back to your room”

“Stance first” Natasha instructs. She corrects your posture and movements a couple of times, inching closer until she’s whispering instructions in your ear. The last thing she does is put her hands over yours to make sure your grip is tight. “Show me what you got”

She steps away and you miss her presence instantly. Trying to remember everything she told you, you toss the ball in the air and swing a little too hard. You trip over your own feet, but Natasha moves forward and catches you before you fall.

“You ok?” she says and you nod.

“How did I do, coach?” you steady yourself, holding her close to you. Your eyes travel to her lips, and you’re both out of breath from laughing.

Neither one can tell who leans first, but the fact is that you do and you discover, with great pleasure and no surprise, that Natasha is an excellent kisser. Her lips are soft against yours and she pulls you closer by your waist.

“Is this a new way of interviewing people, Y/L/N?” 

Oh, shit.

You break apart and turn to Fury, who looks very much not impressed.

“The only cardio you’re allowed to do until this slam is over is at the gym, Romanoff. Back to your room, now” 

“I’m not a little girl you can boss around,” Natasha protests.

“Come on, you should rest. We’ll talk later” you don’t want her to start arguing with Fury, not now that she’s finally listening to him. Natasha turns to you and nods, squeezing your hand one last time before going back to the hotel.

“I don’t want her distracted,” Fury says and you nod. 

“I wasn’t trying to… I won’t get in her way, Nick. I want her to win”

“Glad we understand each other. Now go home” 

He turns to leave and you wait for a little bit, trying to calm down after a mindblowing kiss. As you’re about to leave, you spot a yellow bracelet on the ground. You’ve seen Natasha wearing one before, but you’re too scared of Fury to go back now.

Tomorrow will be a new day for all of you.

--

“Keep your leg behind the ball” Fury instructs. Natasha has been listening to every single thing he says.

Yes, she’s nervous about the semis. And Fury’s the only one that can understand the feeling or help her play better.

“I want you focused,” he says as she walks to dry her hands.

“I am”

“You know what I mean” he says and as if on cue, you walk up to the court, waving. Natasha places the racket down and approaches you. “Practice isn’t over, Romanoff!”

“Five minutes” she asks, meeting you on the edge of the court.

“Hi”

“Hi” she says back. Her eyes go down to your lips and your heart flutters.

“Uh, you left… I think this is yours” you remember to speak, showing the yellow bracelet.

“Yes, thank you. Do you mind?” Natasha extends her hand and you put it around her wrist. “Yelena gave it to me before my first match. It’s my lucky charm”

“Well, good thing I saw it”

“Maybe you’ll be my next lucky charm”

“Oh? Am I supposed to be at every game from now on?” you smile, nodding when you’re done with the bracelet.

“I really wanna kiss you” Natasha blurts out and you blush. “But…”

“There are people watching and Fury doesn’t look happy either”

“He never does. Can I call you later?”

“Yes, you definitely can”

You want to kiss her so bad, damn it.

“Come on, go back, before Fury kicks me out of the court”

Natasha nods, squeezing your hand gently.

The way Natasha looks at you makes you all kinds of flustered, so you leave in a hurry before your desire takes over and you end up kissing her in front of all these people.

Once again, you run into Wanda Maximoff, only this time she doesn’t smile at all.

“She’s quite the player, right?” she says with a cold voice, her accent a bit thicker.

“Uh- yes. Natasha is a very talented pro”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant” she takes a step forward and looks you up and down. “Natasha likes to fuck around. But she always comes back to me”

“You’re… together?” your heart drops. Natasha wouldn’t lie to you about this.

Would she?

“Look, of course she wants to get distracted and she’ll use anyone that is dumb enough to fall for it. But don’t forget, she and I have history. And that’s stronger than whatever it is you think you have with Natasha”

No one is around to save you from this horrible conversation. You don’t want to argue with Wanda, because you’re still a journalist and it’s your job to be on the players’ good side.

But the reckless part of you wants to tell her to fuck off.

You sigh and look down. Wanda takes this as a sign of defeat and smiles, leaving you standing there.

It takes a minute for you to snap out of it, and you look around, desperate to walk away from everything that just happened.

—

“You’re seriously telling me you know nothing?” you ask Bucky for the tenth time.

“I don’t pay attention to rumors” he shrugs his shoulders, and you roll your eyes at him.

He’s sitting on your couch, the movie long forgotten. You nudge him with your foot and glare.

“Your best friend is a journalist, you should know better. You’re my insider into this crap”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just not on the loop of who dates who on the women’s side. But I am not surprised Wanda scared you. Heard she can be batshit crazy”

“She didn’t scare me” you mumble. The both of you sit in silence for a while, until your phones ping simultaneuosly.

Thankfully, it’s not Nat. Right now, you don’t even know what to say to her.

“Sam. Probably to brag about his date in that fancy restaurant” Bucky tells you, but his eyes widen as he reads the message. “Wow. You need to look at this”

He hands you the phone and you read the conversation. It’s your group chat and Sam just sent a picture of Jarvis Stone, who is having dinner with none other than Wanda Maximoff.

“What the actual fu…”

“So that’s why he was being a dick to Natasha” Bucky says. “You’re not telling her about this, are you?”

“No, of course not. She has the semis tomorrow and I don’t want to distract her”

You look at your phone and press send before you chicken out.

Y/N: Can we talk tomorrow?

YBelova: Sure

—

You’re waiting by the entrance to Arthur Ashe, looking around.  Even if Maximoff’s match is later, you are still dreading to spot Wanda.

“Hey” Yelena says and you jump like a coward. “Wow, relax, it’s me”

“I’m sorry to be meeting you like this. I didn’t want to bother Natasha, especially today… she has enough on her plate”

“It’s ok, you can trust me”

“I know I can… it’s not easy to ask this, but do you know if Wanda and Natasha had a… thing? Like a relationship”

“Are you asking as a journalist?” the blonde says, clearly on edge.

“No, it’s not like that! Natasha and I… we kissed. And then Wanda told me yesterday that Natasha is just fooling around because she always comes back to her… and that’s weird but then a friend sent me this. It’s from last night”

“That’s the umpire that was a jerk to Tasha” Yelena takes your phone, looking at it in desbelief. “That bitch is still pulling this shit”

“If it had been only about us, I would have waited until Natasha finished her match. But it seems to me, like Wanda is trying to play dirty here”

Yelena sighs and hands the phone back. She looks around and steps closer, lowering her voice.

“Yes, they dated. Kept it a secret. It was on and off, especially when they were playing against each other. Wanda didn’t like to lose and then, after a while, she began to mess around with Nat. She would have a fight with her before a big match, even if they weren’t playing each other. Made Natasha lose her cool and struggle. They really haven’t spoken since the AO”

“What do we do? I don’t want her to mess with Natasha. I won’t let Wanda get in her way”

“I’ll speak to Fury about this. He knows everything. I’ll let you know what he says”

“Didn’t know you two were friends now”

A voice calls from behind you.

“Seestra, hey!” Yelena steps forward to give you time to recover. “Y/N was just telling me about her time at NYU”

“Is that so?” the redhead looks between you two and you nod.

She stills makes you nervous and flustered.

“Alright, my presence is no longer required” Yelena complains, but still gives you a meaningful look as she walks away.

“I have to warm up, will you stay for the game?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course I will. I’ll be screaming your name” you blurt out and then blush. “I mean, rooting for you. Didn’t mean it to sound like that”

“Sounds good to me” she says, coming closer. “Can I have a good luck kiss?”

You look at her smile, her beautiful green eyes. Think about all the times she’s been kind and funny and brave. And you also think about how someone played with her heart just for a stupid title.

So you nod and lean forward, kissing her gently.

Natasha deserves to win, not only because she’s the better player. She’s the better person.

“Go win this thing” you say against her lips and she smiles, pecking your lips one last time.

—

Natasha’s win is not a surprise to you, considering the level of her recent games. You still have to stick around for the Maximoff match, opting to stay far away from the press room once she wins.

So, it’s down to the two of them in the final.

You’ve never wished for Natasha to win something so much until today.

Work keeps you busy enough. Both of the men’s semis take a combined time of eight hours and you end up completely exhausted, seriously considering just sleeping in one of the locker rooms.

You haven’t heard from Natasha but it’s understandable. She’s playing for the championship tomorrow, and knowing Fury, he will be preparing her in every way possible.

As you get a cup of coffee from one of the last stands open, your phone pings again.

Natasha: Are you still here?

Y/N: Yes :(

Natasha: Meet me in court 17?

Y/N: Yes :)

When you finally get there, you find Natasha serving a couple of times, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Is Fury ok with you staying up so late?”

“I did everything he said today. I think I deserve this one thing” she smiles, walking towards you. “You look a bit tired”

“Jeez, thanks”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Ugh, Yelena is right, I have no game off court”

You laugh at that, taking her hands in yours.

“It’s fine, I was just teasing you” you say, looking as her eyes drift towards your lips. You both lean forward, sharing a kiss.

“Thank you” Natasha says.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I don’t mean the kiss, no. Thank you for telling Yelena that thing about… Wanda”

“Oh”

Natasha walks with you to one of the chairs and you sit together.

“I haven’t spoken to her in months. And I don’t want to be with her. I need you to know that”

“But still… you said you’re not sure you want a relationship, right? It would be too much trouble”

“I think it might be worth the effort for you” she confesses and you smile.

“You do have game”

“I do?”

“Tiny bit. We’ll work on it”

She laughs, and you sit in silence for a moment.

“I made my debut in this court”

“I know”

“How…?”

You sigh. Since you’re sharing stories…

“After my dad died, I kinda took distance from the things we did together. That included all kinds of sports. It was a painful reminder. And then, as the USO was starting, I realised he had already bought our tickets. So I came here, walked around a bit. And then I saw you”

Natasha smiles, squeezing your hand.

“Your hair was shorter, and you were wearing a weird orange top with green shorts” you frown as you remember how awful it looked.

“My mom chose it for me!” the redhead buries her face in her hands and you laugh. You take them in yours as you continue the story.

“You were amazing that day. Controlled, precise… I forgot for a little while about how sad I was. And after you won, I came back everyday to watch you play”

“Thank you for telling me that. I wish I could have known your father”

“I would have liked that too”

There’s silence as you both think about your own journies, the things that brought you to this moment.

“Come on, we should go. You need your rest” you stand up, offering your hand to Natasha. She thinks for a moment before taking it, but instead of standing up she pulls you down until you’re sitting on her lap, your legs around her.

“Nat?” you gulp, blushing at how close you are.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop” she whispers, kissing your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Holy shit, no, don’t stop” you plead, tangling your fingers in her red hair.

“Locker room?”

“Lead the way” you kiss her frantically, hoping no one sees you.

Once you arrive there, Natasha smiles and your heart stops for a second.

“Ready to scream my name?”

—

There’s warmth. And a nice pressure. Some tingling on your back. Like a soft touch.

You open your eyes in an unknown room, trying to remember where you are. As you turn around you find Natasha fast asleep, her arm around your middle.

“Nat?” you call for her, hoping no one walks in any time soon.

“Five more minutes” she mumbles against your skin.

“Nat, wake up” you plead.

As it turns out, she only reacts when Yelena kicks the door, walking in on you naked under the sheets.

“Happy finals day seestra—-ah! Naked”

“Yelena what is wrong?” to your horror, Melina joins her daughter. “Oh, you two lovebirds!”

“WHY DOESNT ANYONE KNOCK HERE” Natasha screams, putting the sheets above her head.

“Sorry”  Melina says, dragging away Yelena.

“Yeah, sorry” Yelena echoes, sounding anything but.

As you both get dressed, the memories of last night come back to you.

After your rendezvous -and almost getting caught by security- you decided it would be better to continue elsewhere. You blush as images of Natasha moaning, kissing and pleasuring you also come back.

“Hey” she approaches you as you walk to the door. “You ok? You look a little…”

“Flustered?” you say, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, yes. I’m sorry about them walking in”

“Last night was… amazing”

“Yeah?” she circles your waist with her hands and pulls you closer. “How amazing?”

“Like winning all Grand Slams in the same year kind of amazing” your hands go around her neck and you pull her for a kiss.

“Wow, that’s big talk” Natasha comments agains your lips. And as she’s about to kiss you, Fury walks in.

“Romanoff! What did I tell you about that cardio”

“For the love of God, knock!” Natasha says, defeated.

“Don’t worry, Fury, I promise she was laying down for the most part” you wink at the man.

“Stay for breakfast” Melina invites as she’s setting the suite’s table with all the room service.

“This has been sufficiently awkward, thank you. And I also imagine you have stuff to do”

“You need to stay hydrated. How much liquid did you lose?” Fury says, going around the kitchen like a headless chicken.

“Fury, I haven’t seen her this relaxed in months. My sister will be fine” Yelena comments.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Of course. I’m on press duty”

“Come to the player’s box” Melina says.

“Would that be wise?” you ask and everyone shares a look. “What I mean is, we want to make Wanda think her plan worked, right? If she sees me there she’ll know we are on to her”

“I don’t care what she thinks. I want you there” Natasha takes your hand and you smile.

“Alright. I’ll be there. See you later” you kiss her cheek and smile.

“Byeee” Melina and Yelena say, and you realise that Natasha will have to deal with their questions.

Well, if she can deal with the press, she can deal with her family.

—

The day goes by in a blur, and as the match approaches, you feel more anxious. God, how does Natasha do this? If it were you with the world watching, you’d probably break down the minute you step into the court.

“Hello there” Yelena greets as you meet at the player’s entrance of Arthur Ashe.  “Ever been here?”

“Just once, with Bucky”

It’s hard to forget the luxurious facilities where players can get food, special gifts, some physio or workout before their matches.

“He won last year, right?”

“Yes” you smile at the memory. “How is Natasha doing?”

“She’s done with warmup, she had something light to eat and she seems ready. She’s also been smiling like an idiot all day, even if Fury kept her away from her phone”

“I want her to win, so whatever it takes” you smile at the blonde, and follow her to the lounge, where Natasha is waiting with Melina. The redhead smiles as soon as she spots you and you kiss her on the cheek.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a complete wreck”

“You got this. Remember she prefers short games, she also doesn’t like to volley or come close to the net. And people say her forehand is killer but she goes too far behind her back, so use it against her”

“Y/N?” she interrupts your rambling. “All of that is fine advice, but I already have Nick on my back 24/7”

“Right, sorry”

“You know what he doesn’t provide?”

“Hm?”

“Good luck kisses”

“That’s right, it’s above my paygrade” Fury says. “Say your goodbyes now”

Melina and Yelena hug her, Fury squeezes her shoulder and then they give you some space.

“Go win this thing” you say, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

Natasha leans her forehead against yours and smiles.

She’s ready.

—

Natasha comes out first, and the crowd goes wild.

Wanda is close behind her; you catch her staring at you, clearly shocked that you’re next to Nat’s family.

“Who’s losing focus now?” Yelena says with a cheerful voice and you can’t help but smile.

The game begins and it is very clear that Natasha is playing aggressively. She has an ace on every game and there are hardly any break points for Wanda. It’s been 30 minutes and the score is 5-2.

“She’s cooked,” Fury says, looking at Wanda. You shake your head.

“Maximoff has an insane record after losing the first set, you know that”

And in fact, she does lose the first set. As always, the crowd loves to cheer on the underdog, so they go wild when Wanda wins the first two games of the second set.

“Come on, Tasha” you scream, and she looks your way, smiling. In no time, they’re tied.

“What are the odds on a tiebreak?” Yelena asks.

“It can go either way” you sigh, confirming that it will happen as they reach 6-6.

Natasha is playing fast and hard, giving no time for Wanda to recover.

But as she serves for the match, Wanda challenges the call in the most disruptive way possible.

It was in, but since Nat stopped playing the point goes to Wanda.

“That’s bullshit” Yelena says under her breath and you nod.

Sure enough, Natasha zones out and goes from match point to losing the second set.

“Dear Lord” Fury says, trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Maximoff looks exhausted, Nick. Natasha is doing great. She didn’t give away the second set. She’ll do this”

The third set begins, the first four games a close call. Deuce is called when they’re tied at 2, and you know that whoever wins this point will end up winning the match.

Every time Wanda has an advantage, Natasha comes back and breaks. Even when the Sokovian is serving, it doesn’t stop Natasha from pulling her back to 40-40. The Russian is a wall, and Wanda seems to lose hope as time passes.

And then, it happens.

Wanda has a double fault that gives Natasha the advantage. Followed by a double fault that gives her a break.

“Yes” Fury claps, trying to keep it together.

As the score approaches 5, your heart beats faster. Once again, 5-2.

Natasha serving for the match.

An ace.

The crowd goes wild.

The second ball goes out of the court when Wanda hits it.

Then, a double fault.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s 30-15 and then 30-30. All Natasha needs are two more points to win.

She searches for your face in the crowd and you smile, nodding.

“You’re going to win” you say and she smiles.

Another ace.

The screens show the “championship point” sign.

Wanda doesn’t make it easy for her. She’s like a wounded animal that has nothing to lose, so she runs, she answers every throw with a groan, she comes to the net.

But when Natasha does her signature dropshot, Wanda tries to run, reaches too late and the ball bounces one, two, three times.

“Game, set, match, Romanoff”

“Fuck, YEEES” Yelena screams, standing up and cheering.

It’s all a blur, Natasha falling to the ground and covering her face. Walking to the net to shake Wanda’s hand, and then  the umpire’s.

After, she walks among the crowd, trying to reach her box. Yelena is the first to jump, their mother hugging them both and crying.

Fury looks like he’s about to cry as Natasha hugs him. You’re certainly crying happy tears as you watch them.

And then, she walks past him and picks you up from the ground, kissing you in front of the entire stadium.

“Congrats, Nat” you say against her lips.

“I’ll be right back” she promises when the security guard asks her to come back for the ceremony.

“You owe me a question”

“Save it for the next championship” she says against your lips and you kiss again, in spite of the guard’s insistence and with the crowd cheering you on.

—

It’s been six more slam titles, two years of tours around the world.

Natasha still owes you a question.

You’re saving it for a time when you’re both ready, and you’ll ask her to marry you.

[ashen-char]

take my pure 🔞

ship: max fox (better things) x gender neutral reader (reader has a penis bc of the g!p request but i kept it gn bc the other request used "they")

warnings: explicit smut, losing virginity, reader has a penis

summary: max is more than happy to be your first - to ensure that your first time is perfect, to show you how good it can be.

word count: 3700+

notes: knocking out a few requests with this one. g!p request here, and requests for reader's first time w max here and here. g!p won the poll so i hope to write things like this more often for you guys! ALSO written as a happy bday gift to my 100th follower <3

Max has done her best to be patient with you. Respectful of the fact that, yknow, you're inexperienced. That you want to take things slow. You're not the type to rush into stuff headfirst like Max is. You know she's done more, that she wants you. It's kinda sweet how she asks you if you're OK even if you're doing something as simple as making out, just because she doesn't want to scare you off. 

"Hey, babe?" Max asks you one day, while you two are cuddling on her bed. Her hands stroke at your stomach, fingers slightly grazing down and playing with the waistband of your boxers. "I was thinking, like... what's the farthest you've ever gone with someone?"

Your eyes widen with the question since it seemed so out of the blue. Then again, Max always said what was on her mind, be that normal or not. "Uh, well, we've made out a bunch, obviously," you tell her.

"Right." The way she pauses lets you know that Max wants you to keep going, that you haven't answered what she wants to hear.

You keep your eyes on Max's, watching if she's at all uncomfortable or jealous with the answer. You want to be honest, but not make her upset. "Besides that, I guess me and my last girlfriend... touched a little. Like, under the bra. She tried to cop a feel of my junk once, but I shut that down." You frown at the memory. The rest of that hang-out was awkward, and you felt bad, but you weren't ready. You don't regret standing your ground though.

"Just under the bra, huh? That's it?" she teases. It's like Max knew you were getting in your head, because one of her hands comes up and cups your face. You lean into it. Turn your head and press a kiss to her palm.

Your arm goes to pull Max in, wanting her closer. She relaxes you. You've never really had that before. Past relationships were all filled with nerves and uncertainty. Max makes everything feel obvious, especially with how confident she is, even when she messes up.

"I kinda regretted moving away back then. Like, it felt good," you admit. "But no one else had ever touched it but me, so I was a little too nervous to go further." That moment didn't feel right. Now you know that it was because your ex was the wrong girl. She wasn't as awesome and right for you as Max.

Max giggles softly, pressing against you and letting you pull her against you. "Not lame at all, babe," she assures, her hand moving lower, tracing patterns on your abdomen. You resist the urge to flex, knowing she'll tease you for trying to impress her. You can't help how nervous she still makes you. How cool you want her to think you are. "It's... cute, actually. Makes me feel special, you know? That I'll get to be your first."

First. It used to be a daunting thought. Exes pushing you, saying it wasn't a big deal, telling you how excited they were to eventually take it. Like your body was something fun for them to experience. But not Max. She likes the thought because it proves how much you, the person not the body, trusts her. You think it might be fun, with Max. Because of Max. It makes you want to push through those nerves.

She looks up at you. You recognise that look in her eyes, how they sparkle with mischief. "...what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" you ask, wary but playful in tone. You poke her cheek and laugh when that makes Max laugh as well.

"You've never gone under my bra," she says.

The thought of Max's... well. You flush at the thought, the image of it, like your brain's stopping you from even thinking of her chest. Bare. Would her, uh, you know, be as pink and tender as her lips?

You really need to get over it. They're just words. You've seen Max's breasts before - seen them when she'd tease you by sending you nudes, or the couple of times she's changed in front of you because "she really doesn't care, just stay" in Max's words. You never really let yourself look, so sure that you'd stare and pop a boner or something. And pictures don't do them justice.

Max gives you little time to prepare. With two hands, she takes hold of yours, and, with a gentle tug, brings your hand under her shirt. "Go up when you feel ready," she says. Her eyes are fixed on yours, but she closes them when she leans in and sweetly gives you a kiss. It's then when you let your fingers splay open, reaching up, releasing a shaky breath when you feel it. Soft. Malleable. 

You squeeze, and she moans and, fuck, you feel the blood rushing down between your legs. This is when alarm bells would ring, telling you to move away before she feels your semi. But not with Max. Maybe it would be overkill to say you feel completely ready, but you don't feel scared at least. Spurred by your excitement and the feel of her soft tits in your hands, you begin to massage and explore, watching how Max reacts. Her shivers, her moans, her whimpers.

"Are you sure this is your first time?" she huffs out, as you're switching from one to the other. "You're too good at this."

"I- uh-" You don't know what you want to say. Nothing really. At this point, you're tenting your boxers something fierce and hoping Max doesn't tease you about it. "I'm not really doing anything. You feel good," is what you end up landing on, proud when you don't stutter too bad.

You feel her nipples pebble under your touch, how your palm grazes over it and it makes Max bite her lip and mumble out a "fuck".

When you don't freak out and let her know it's getting a bit too quick for you, her thumbs slip under the straps of her tank top. "You can take it off, if you want, babe," Max offers. You know there's no bra underneath, and you think you might die if her perfect tits were suddenly out, so you appreciate the warning.

"Honestly, I like where my hands are," you say. Admitting that peeling her tank top off would make you actually combust in your pants is too embarrassing anyways. "But I want to see you."

You watch as she strips her shirt and your heart thumps like it did the first time because she's just that gorgeous. Her pale skin is pretty. Her nipples are as pink as you imagined, but there's a tinge of red now, like they're begging to be touched. The beauty marks that pepper her upper body look like constellations, and you've spent a non-zero amount of time fantasising about kissing them. So you do. Max's breathing is getting heavy and you can feel it in how her chest rises and falls, can feel her heartbeat against your lips.

You don't know how long your face has been buried in her chest for. At least ten minutes if you had to guess. Max's perfume smells so sweet on her skin, and when you lick around her nipple like that, she squirms and grinds down on your lap. You almost can't believe you're feeling so comfortable right now. There's no instinct telling you to move away, to not let her feel your bulge. In fact, it feels so good.

"So, does that mean you're ready for third base now? Or maybe even a home run?" Her voice is teasing, but there's a hint of need behind it. Max wants you inside her and it's a thought that makes you groan.

"I think... yeah," you breathe out. "I wanna go further."

Max's eyes light up at your words. She can't believe you're giving her this, trusting her enough to let her see you, all of you. She's been dying to touch you, to explore every inch of the body that she loves being held by. She sits up, straddling you, her hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt.

"I thought you'd never ask," she teases, pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside. Her fingers trace the lines of your muscles, admiring the way your body responds to her touch. She can feel your heart pounding in your chest, can sense your nervousness. But she also sees the desire in your eyes, the want.

Her hands move to your belt, unbuckling it slowly, her eyes never leaving his. She can see you swallow hard, your chest heaving.

Max is grinning, enjoying the power she holds over you. "It'll be good. You'll love this, baby, trust me." In smooth, practised motions, she undoes the button on your jeans, then your zipper, her knuckles brushing against your hardness. She can feel you throbbing, eager for her touch.

"I do trust you," you say. With a groan, you hide your face against her, burrowing at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet.

"You're so big, babe," she whispers, her hand slipping inside your boxers, wrapping around your length. Max bites her lip, looking up at you with wide, eager eyes. She can feel your thickness in her hand, can barely wrap her fingers around it. "You're pulsing in my hand." Max sounds delighted.

"Shut up," you grit out, face probably burning red with all her teasing. It's all you can do to remember to breathe.

"Uh huh." She strokes you gently, feeling you grow even harder in her hand. Up and down the shaft, twisting at the head. You can't believe a girl is touching you. Not only that, but she's doing it in a way that you've only done to yourself in the privacy of your room, like Max knows just how you like it. "Do you like that, baby?" she asks, her voice soft and sweet. Encouraging. It makes you squirm.  "Do you like me touching you like this?"

Fuuuuck. "Ugh." Your hips jerk up, making a slick sound as you fuck up into her hand. "Yes."

After a while, when you're fully hard, Max starts making her way down. She kisses her way down your neck, your chest, lips exploring your body as her hands continue their tantalisingly slow up and down. She can feel you tense beneath her touch, but you don't stop her. "What are you-?"

"Shhh, baby. I just want to do something for you. It'll feel even better. Pinky promise."

She reaches your waistband, her fingers hooking into the top of your boxers. She looks up at you, checking in, making sure you're still okay with this. You nod. The sight of Max on her knees in front of you is fucking wow and the thought of saying no doesn't even cross your mind. Not like this. Not when your breath coming in short gasps and you just want her mouth around you.

"OK. Thank you for trusting me, baby," she whispers.

Your hands... you don't know what you're doing with them, don't know what to do at a time like this. It's not like you came over expecting to get blown today, so you didn't exactly look up the best etiquette for this. On her head seems like a safe option but also so lewd that you can't bring yourself too. "Of course," you say. "I love you. I-I trust you."

She smiles, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your stomach. "I love you too."

A deep breath in. You can do this. Max says you'll love it, and God, if you haven't imagined her mouth on you hundreds of times. She tugs your boxers down, freeing your erection. She says something to the effect of "oh, hello!" when it pops out, smacking you in the stomach cause you're just that fucking hard right now.

Max gasps when she finally sees it, her eyes widening in shock and awe. "Oh my god, baby," she breathes, her hand wrapping around the base, her thumb and middle finger not even able to meet. "If you told me you were packing all this, I might have done this sooner."

"Max..."

"I know, I know." Max laughs. She can see you blushing, can see the vulnerability in your eyes. Max smiles, running her finger along your length, feeling you shiver beneath her touch. "You're doing good," she tells you, then licks her lips. "Now can I taste it, baby?" she asks, her voice soft and pleading. "Please?"

When you nod your consent, Max leans down, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your cock. She hears you gasp, sees your hips jerk slightly. When she's taking you into her mouth, just the head at first, you wonder if you've ever felt anything so good. It's warm. Crazy intense. Your hands stay on the bed, clutching at the covers, fisting it so you don't do something stupid like scream or cum right there and then.

She sucks gently, her tongue swirling around you.

"Aa-ah," comes the broken moan out of your mouth. Don't cum, don't cum, shit.

You're growing harder in her mouth than you even thought possible, the head hitting the soft palate at the roof of her mouth. There's too many textures, too many sensations. You cling onto the knowledge that this is Max doing this to you. For you. Whichever. Your caring, sweet, always clingy Max. You cling to the fact that she's probably loving this right now, if in a completely different way than you are, loving that you're letting her have this part of you.

She pulls off the slightest bit, just enough to speak, looking up at you. "Is this okay, baby?" she asks, her voice soft. "Do you like it?"

You nod, your eyes clamped shut. If you look down and see your dick in her mouth, there's no saying what you'll do. "Y-yes," you stammers. "It's amazing."

"Well, I'm glad, baby," she says. You can hear the smile in her voice, can feel her hands rubbing up and down your thighs to calm you down. "Tell me if this gets too much, alright? I'm gonna do a little more."

Nodding, you give her the OK.

A little more turns out to be a lot at once. Max returns to that steady rhythm, her head bobbing up and down. With the way her tongue is swirling, you might not have recognised that she's goimg each time. Until finally, you hit something, and you feel her gag slightly.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no, I'm fine," Max doesn't let you finish. "I want to."

She pulls back, taking a deep breath, before trying again. Biting your lip hard, you feel how Max relaxes her throat, taking you deeper this time, her hands gripping your thighs.

You're panting at this point. She must feel you growing closer, feel your body tensing. Her hand strokes the rest of your shaft, the bit she can't get in her mouth.

"No," you get out. You want to last, you want to make sure Max enjoys this as much as you are.

Now it's Max's time to apologise. She immediately pulls off, her eyes big and apologetic. "I'm sorry, God, I should have know that was too far, babe."

Instead of letting her think she was in the wrong, you lean down to kiss her. "No, you didn't do anything wrong," you murmur, even if it's hard to speak right now. Her shoulders are tense, worried, and you rub them. "I just didn't want to cum yet," you admit. You feel ready. You feel good. And it's all Max's doing. "I think I want... I want to be inside you."

Her eyes widen. Eventually Max nods, understanding, and scoots up to lie back on the bed. She reaches behind her to unbutton her shorts, sliding them and her panties off in one smooth motion. She wiggles out of them, leaving her naked and exposed. Her pussy is wet, her nerves making her ache for you. When she spreads her legs, inviting you in, you feel your mouth go dry.

"Come here, baby," she says, patting the spot next to her. "You're going to be so good, you know?"

Nervous isn't the right word. Excitement, maybe. You don't want to fuck this up, but at the same time you know Max wouldn't bedgrudge you if you do. Maybe she'd laugh, or playfully complain, but even if you bust a load right now she'd probably rub your back and tell you that you did good.

You gulp. "I don't know how to..."

"I know, baby. That's kinda part of it." Max leans in, pressing a soft placating kiss to your lips. "No one knows how to do something the first time. All I want is for you to be comfortable, OK? We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Nothing you don't want to. That helps.

Max takes your hand again. This time, she brings it between her legs. Lets you feel around, not judging how your fingers clumsily explore her pussy.

Knowing that you're going to put it in and feel all this, wet and warm and tight, around your cock makes your brain fry. 

"Do you feel how wet I am?" she whispers. "I'm gonna love it. Just let me guide you in. You can't mess this up."

You keep your eyes fixed on Max, letting her keep you as calm as you can be in this situation. Her hand, still unable to wrap around your girl, directs you to her entrance, replacing your fingers with your cock. Your heart is pounding in your chest as she lines herself up with your head. For the first time, you feel a woman's soft folds around the tip of your cock. An inviting heat practically begs you to take her, to shove yourself right in, and you can't help but shiver at the sensation.

"Max."

"Shh. Slow," she whispers. "Just push in slow, feel how I fit around you. Take your time."

You do as she says, pushing in slowly, her warmth enveloping you. Your body screams at you to move faster. Inch by agonising inch. Your hands let go of the sheets, reaching to grasp her, holding Max by the hips now. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do to stop Max from sucking you until you came. But now, with half of your shaft buried inside her and Max's hand still wrapped around your base, you realise how close you still are. How bad of a decision it was to not wait until you calmed down a little, because fuck, you think you're going to blow.

Max's nails dig into your shoulder, and she takes a deep breath. Her shaky "oh God" makes you moan, clutching at her hips tighter to hold on to your sanity. Luckily, it seems like you both need some time, so no one complains when you stop about halfway inside her. Max slowly adjusts to your size, and you're adjusting to the fact that you're inside of someone for the first time and it feels like heaven.

"Do you like this, baby?" she asks, her voice breathless. "Do you like being inside me?"

"God yes," you groan out. You can barely even recognise your own voice, thick with pleasure. The tight heat, the softness, it envelops you and you can't help but bite your lip as you tell yourself over and over to not cum yet. Even without moving, her muscles are clenching around you, and it's so intense that it's overwhelming.

"OK, baby," she pants, after a while. You're calmer now. At least, you hope so. "Now you can move." 

So you do. You sink in slowly but surely, taking it all in. Once you're fully inside her, you freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Max, however, is not. She wraps her legs around your waist, her heels digging into your back, and begins to move her hips, grinding against you.

Max guides you, showing you how to thrust, how to set the pace, how she likes it. She likes it when you swivel your hips, but hates it when you change up the speed too much. When her hips gyrate, she wants it deeper. You're a fast learner. Every thrust makes her moan, and you're just following Max's lead. Trying not to lose yourself in it. Her soft moans are the sweetest reward.

Max wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer, encouraging you. 

"You're doing great," she says, her eyes locked on yours. "Just like that. Keep going."

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes locked with Max's. This is it. You're making love to the love of your life, and you can't believe how good it feels. Max's slick walls slide against you, gripping your cock with every roll of her hips. You begin to mimic her movements, use what you've learned.

Max lets out soft, needy whines, her body arching to meet your inexperienced but eager thrusts. She's taking in every inch of you, her pussy stretching and contracting around you. Her eyes roll back in her head.

"B-baby, please," she calls out, "cum for me, cum inside me. I want to feel it."

"Close. Wait for me," you groan, your body trembling.

And then, in a wave of pleasure, your body jerks. It feels like a bolt of lightning, a shock to the system. Your cock pulses deep inside of Max as you spill your seed deep within her. Max lets out a loud moan as you fill her, her body shuddering as her own orgasm washes over her. Her pussy clamps down tightly around you, milking you dry as she rides out her climax.

Together, you two lay there, panting. "Oh my God. That was amazing," you say, before laughter takes over you. Nothing's funny, but there's too much joy, too much happiness to not let out. She joins in, until you're two giggling messes cuddled up in the sheets, basking in the afterglow. She whispers sweet nothings into your hair, telling you how proud she is of you, how lucky she is that you let her experience your first with you.

[poppy-metal]

Situationship!Jordan trying to make you jealous, but it fails.

Maybe their flirting with some random girl or guy. In hopes that it’d make you jealous and rush over to them and sit on their lap or start kissing them, or lead to some jealousy sex, but instead you leave and block them on everything. Which makes them look like a whole ass clown 🤡. Ignoring them every time they try talking to you. Purposely throwing out flowers in trash can you know they walk past or doing it right in front them. Giving the chocolates they get you to your professors or roommates instead. Donating the stuffed animals they give you(originally I was gonna say you’d rip them up but I felt like the stuffed animals didn’t deserve that). They end up begging for you to accept their apology, they even pull out the sad brown eyes. Saying how stupid they are and how they genuinely like you. They hope you’ll take them back, because they like being around you. They love the fact that their wrapped around your finger.

Meanwhile all their friends are laughing at them groveling over their situationship they kept saying “they didn’t have feelings for”. Which cate called out their bullshit.

laughing at their resolve crumbling like cotton candy in water the moment you give them the cold shoulder. they assumed maybe since you're always pulling the make them jealous card they'd play it back, but your jealousy works different than theirs. for you, it just hurts. doesn't make you wanna stomp over and stake a claim, just makes you feel small. when they figure that out they feel like SHIT.

"i didn't think It'd be a big deal."

"it isn't, jordan. if you want someone else you can have someone else. easy peasy."

"i dont though - i want you."

"didn't feel like it last night."

"i didn't know - i thought it was a game, baby, I'm sorry, alright? i dont want anyone else, fuck, you're all i fucking think about."

you try to stay mad, but its really hard when jordans closing in - stepping into your space in that way they do, crowding you in. cupping your cheeks in their palms, "hey, look at me." you do. regret it because fuuuuuck, there are the baby brown eyes. "i was being a dickhead. wanted to see if you'd, like. come over and sit on my lap and tell them to fuck off - didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

you roll your eyes, "if you wanted me to get possessive over you, literally just ask. I'll ride your dick and threaten to kill you if you look at anyone else no questions asked."

jordan bites back a smile. you hate that they've already won you back, put on a pout that they immediately rub their thumb over. "yeah?"

you look away, "not now, obviously. you've been bad. you hurt my feelings. you let another girl touch your hair."

jordans hands cup your neck now, and they close in even further. your back against the wall now. "i know, i fucking suck. was so bad of me - hurting you like that-" you nod dumbly along to what they're saying, breathless as one hand starts to slide down, rest on your hip. "should let me make it up to you. show you why you should still put up with me."

you feel your cunt throb at their words, thinking of them spending hours between your legs, coaxing forgiveness out of you through their tongue on your clit.

its like they see the thought flitter through your head, fingers skimming over the waistband of your shorts. they brush their lips just barely over yours, and you know already, that they have you. they know it. "come to my dorm, baby. please?"

you sigh. they better make you see god, and then some.

"fine."

[loremaster]

i went crazy (as i am known to do) and drew BOTH of each daily prompt for @raincodeshipweek! nothing past PG-13 here. double check the tags for ships below - or if you want to be surprised, jump in and see them all here:

Hurt/Comfort - Clockmare - I remember a while ago @pixelatedraindrops did a poll over which of the two to draw sick in bed… Halara's cat allergies won out, but I thought the opposite scenario of Fubuki needing recovery from overusing her rewind powers was cute too! This is a very cute ship that needs more love!

Healing - Kokolight - This is *THE* ship that's all about healing. (Emotional healing at least.) Yuma learns a lot from Vivia about how to embrace the uncomfortable parts of life… and Vivia learns a lot from Yuma about how not to let that diminish your spark. Plus, by the end, they understand what each other’s been through more than any other characters... almost. Also, dat height difference. Good shit.

Dancing - Aetheria trio - Similar bonding over shared grief here! But this time there's three of them! Big 3 of Cups energy. It's a shame we never really got to see much genuine interaction between Yoshiko, Waruna, and Kurane during the game's story… but sometimes the most fun parts are what we get to imagine for ourselves, hmm? Anyway, yeah. These three are bonded for life. (Too bad it wasn't a very long one...)

Domesticity - Viviakou - There's nothing funnier than two guys with opposite behaviors. Vivia wedges himself into the crack between the bed and the wall as far as he can. Yakou spreads out and takes up more room than the bed even has. Plus, he snores. Disasters, both of them. …I was going to try and come up with another ship for this prompt, since - spoilers - there'll be more Viviakou later on... but I thought of this image and laughed hard enough I couldn't not draw it!

Sun/Rain - Yakou/Amaterasu Researcher. - One of the happiest moments of Yakou's life was when his wife got him a boat for his birthday. A whole boat!!! A portable office! Never had he felt so loved before. …Never has the sun shone that brightly again. He hates the rain.

Stars - Clockbolt - Fubuki is staring out wistfully at the rain clouds, lamenting that she cannot see her star - the one her parents bought for her. But luckily - “Don't worry, Princess, I'll be your star…!” says Desuhiko. Bolder, brighter, and much, much closer than her faraway prize…Yeah, I think Fubuki would eat that up. This is a fun ship. I like that Desuhiko - against all odds - treats Fubuki like a person. And ironically I think that would make her like him more!!

Flowers - Furroughs - What else could I have drawn for 'flowers,' honestly? It's a cheap bouquet of Black-Eyed Susans! I can't see this as a healthy relationship, honestly, but that's what makes it fun! Imagining them as childhood friends who used to be really close but grew apart in adulthood strikes just the right chord of melancholy with me. Even more heartbreaking if you see them both as trans - imagine Yakou's so excited to have a friend like him, and then as soon as Seth transitions he's like "you don't know me. never speak to me again." Mmm, I do so love to put Yakou through the wringer.

Memories - Yumagami - Sometimes you don't know what you've got until it's gone. I imagine Yuma goes through phantom pains after their pact gets broken, not knowing whose laughter keeps ringing through his ears, what's up with that tingly spot on his cheek, or why he can't look at a barrel without his face feeling hot. (Though, he's probably astute enough to put together the clues...)

First Times - Viviakou - The first time Yakou heard Vivia say that catchphrase, it didn't feel very good.

Final Moments - Viviakou - ...The last time didn't feel very good either.

Swap - Vivia/Amaterasu Researcher - Okay, hear me out. If Yakou had managed to run up that hill, make a deal with Kodaka, and get him to swap their places - that is, he dies while his wife survives and becomes Chief of the Nocturnal Detective Agency - I think Vivia would think the same of Mrs. Furio that he did of Mr. Furio (that is, helplessly smitten). EXTREMELY underrated. Please ship this with me.

Alternate Universe - Zilara - My personal pet rarepair!!! Alas, our two confident creature-lovers have been kept from each other by the cruel hands of fate. So, I cope by drawing them getting fancy little drinks together. This is an homage to Boba AU, of course, but honestly, while drawing this, I was picturing them as students at the local prestigious college campus. Maybe they're members of frat Alpha Beta Omega or something.

Past/Future - Makoyuma - This one's more of a concept/pitch than a fully explored scene, but hear me out: time travel AU. What if Yuma meets a mysterious masked stranger who turns out to be a tech-savvy time traveler from a destroyed future... but then also turns out to be himself, somehow? How is there someone who looks exactly like him, 5000 years from now? What's the connection between Yuma and Makoto? And why are they so drawn to each other?

...The last prompt for the official Ship Week is a free day - so I'm going to take the day off! Though, there are a lot of other ships I lament not shouting out here - Kokobolt, Kokomare, Twimare, Fubugami, just to name a few!!! But I'm gonna give myself a break for now. Don't worry, you'll see more art from me soon - maybe even print versions of this, and some of my other Rain Code fanart. And if there's a specific ship or scenario you really can't wait to see... my commissions are open! ;D

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idea by @idfkeatdust

I originally wanted the reader to be a child of Hestia but only to find out she doesn’t really have any kids. (From what I’ve read) So that’s out of the question. Love that for me 😂

Also Luke acting like a big bro to the younger campers lives in my head rent free. This is too long and probably doesn’t make much sense but I was like half asleep whilst writing this and unable to figure out how to end this seamlessly, so blame that and shitty writing.

Luke vividly remembered the exact moment he fell for you as though it were yesterday, how could he not when it was one of the only things that brought him any semblance of happiness and normality within the typically grim life of a demi-god.

It was during your first ever game of capture the flag at camp, you were allied with the blue team and stationed with the flag as a defender, tasked with the important job of stopping the red team from snagging it and claiming victory along with bragging rights. You were hyper vigilant of everything, from your stance, to the way you held your sword and shield like a iron vice, right down to the pace of your breathing and even made a headcount of every time you blinked as to stop yourself from your mind over reacting at every sound the forest made; believing it to be the enemy team making their move ahead of time.

If you were under any other circumstance, Luke would’ve found this kind of thing reaction endearing but it didn’t matter in the end because the blue team ended up winning out against the red team, all thanks to Luke and his excelled talents in swordsmanship and leadership as per usual.

What really sealed the deal for Luke in his feelings for you however was how genuinely happy you seemed upon hearing the news that your team won. You looked towards him with the brightest eyes and sweetest, widest smile he’s ever seen on the face of anyone he had ever met previous to you, and yet he couldn’t help but attempt to imitate your blinding smile but failed as it felt disingenuous; that typically tends to happens when you’ve won at pretty much every capture the flag since arrival, serval times over.

‘We won?’ You asked, still smiling.

‘Are your ears filled with cotton?’ Like asked rhetorically, holding you by the shoulder, smiling back at you. ‘yeah we won. Why? You act like this is your first time winning anything?’ He continued and takes in the way you averted your gaze elsewhere as though pondering whether or not you should admit something to him, only to look back at him and say ‘well I never got to do the winning as I was never given the opportunity to be on the winning team. The winning side.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. ‘Only ever on the losing side. So I tend to treasure the times where I do win, even if it’s small victories, they still mean something in the end.’ You added.

Luke’s smile softened as he hears this, whilst also finding immense respect for you in recognising and taking pride in triumphs in ways that others would consider not worth the effort in obtaining; it truly made him think back on how he had taken his own achievements for granted and instead of celebrating the fact that he even won at all. ‘That’s one hell of a way to look at victory,’ Luke chuckled, ‘but I’ll let you what, stick with me and you’ll always be on the winning side.’ He promised, squeezing your shoulder as he began to drag you back towards the dinning pavilion.

‘You really want me on your team?’ You said incredulously as though you couldn’t believe what you were hearing before adding. ‘I didn’t really do anything other than defend the flag.’

‘Protecting the flag is a pivotal part of the game,’ Luke began, ‘it wouldn’t be called capture the flag if protecting the primary objective of the game wasn’t top priory for maintaining a single teams victory, whilst also attempting to steal the enemies flag that’s being heavily guarded to death.’ He says and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ending statement, which made him warm inside from that fact that he had obtained his first small victory in making you chuckle; Luke was staring to slowly understand why you choice to savour the smaller victories in life, it definitely had it’s merits. ‘So to answer your question, yes, I would love to have you on my team. A hundred percent.’ He adds and once again your blinding smile was back on him and in that moment Luke felt as though he had finally won at life.

Now all he wanted was for you to stake claim to his heart because it was already yours and will be yours long after; Being yours would be his life’s greatest achievement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Luke fell first, you fell harder for him then you thought you would after capture the flag.

He was the first ever friend you made at camp, which he continued to be even after you moved out of the Hermes cabin after being claimed as the child of Erebus, primordial god of darkness and shadows, so it was only natural that you wanted to take up any given opportunity to spend time with Luke and utilise every second of every minute to the fullest.

Yeah, he was conventionally attractive but that was merely a bonus to the perfect personality he had as camp half-bloods’ golden boy. What really sold you on him was how brotherly he acted towards the younger campers; making sure they were okay, giving them an answer to their every question, going out of his way to make sure they were settling in fine all the while being their resinated tour guide through camp and trying out various different activities to determine who their godly parents were based on what they excelled at.

He tried implementing a sense of normality for them, whether it worked or nor didn’t matter, it was the thought that he tried to remind these younger demi-gods that they were allowed to be human, and not the weapons that they were soon going to unfortunately be trained into. You were aware of Luke’s stance of the Greek pantheon of gods and goddesses and their blatant neglect and mistreatment of their children, only bothering to take notice of them when they could be proven useful to go on menial quests that untimely mean nothing, only to then be discarded soon after like a severely damaged toy; never to be played with again by it’s owner.

It was the inevitable fate of all demi-gods in Luke’s eyes, no valour, no glory, no memoriam, only the fact that a burned burial shroud of your godly parent is all to remember you by because in the end it wasn’t you -the demi-god- who was being remembered; it was the weapon you were moulded into by force for your parent’s honour that would be remembered.

However in the moments where you stood a distance away from the archery range, watching as Luke forced the newest addition to camp into crouching to avoid a rouge arrow that flew over their heads and implied itself deep into the trunk of a tree; it was obvious that the kid should be kept far away from from a bow and arrow for the foreseeable future as archery was defiantly not within his skill set, seeing as he could’ve easily just struck somebody with that stray arrow of his but you couldn’t help but smile at how Luke helped the boy up by his arm, checking him over for injuries while also asking if he was okay.

‘You alright there Damien? You’re not hurt anywhere are you?’ You heard Luke ask the younger lad with chestnut hair and wide doe eyes filled with fright, looking him over one more time to be certain that he was indeed injury free.

‘Y-yeah, I don’t think archery is my thing.’ Damien replied and Luke’s face of worry was soon replaced by a relieved expression, followed by a chuckle in disbelief as he raised a brow at the kid, as he then said ‘you don’t say? Now how about we put that down and go somewhere else before you let loose another route arrow, how does that sound?’ Damien was quick to discard the bow and arrow as though it burned him and went to follow Luke but before you could go back to what it was you were doing before you had gotten distracted, you heard Luke’s voice speak up once again, this time it was closely behind you; ‘Quick detour before we move onto the next activity Damien, there’s someone special I want you to meet first.’

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a familiar arm drape across your shoulder and pull you into his side, finding yourself on the receiving end of one of Luke’s pretty smiles that had your insides melting like butter, but all you could do was reciprocate his smile with one of your own, unknown of the affects it had on the son of Hermes; though it was apparently obvious to the young lad standing awkwardly off to the side as he innocently asks. ‘Is this the person you couldn’t stop saying had a smile that could outshine the stars?’ Your eyes almost bugged out of your head at the comment as your heart leapt into your throat, even Luke looked a little taken aback by this kids openness and had to cough into his hand in hopes of hiding his flustered expression.

‘Damien this is y/n, child of Erebus. y/n, this is Damien, our newest addition.’ Luke introduce you to one another, clearly avoiding the question Damien made earlier as though he didn’t hear it, but Damien was obviously a smart kid as he saw through this as one would a glass widow.

‘It’s nice to meet you Damien, I hope Luke hasn’t scared you too badly yet.’ You joked, nudging the aforementioned boy playfully in the side, wanting the boy to feel at ease. ‘Accusations!’ Luke cried, nudging you back, causing you to laugh, making him smile in response. ‘These are false accusations being made to tarnish my name and drag it through the mud out of sheer jealously.’

‘Jealously?’ You replied, brow raised as your arms crossed over your chest. ‘Since when and I’m only looking out for Damien’s best interests at heart, being stuck with you is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my worst of enemies.’ You continued to jest, another thing that you loved about Luke was the fact that you didn’t have to be overly serious with him, that didn’t mean you weren’t against having deep conversations because you’ve had them before down by the lake, but it was moments like there’s where having a bit of a laugh and a banter with one another was enough to make you temporality forget the reality of your lives and act your age for once; It was considered a distraction but a welcomed one indeed.

‘And yet I didn’t hear you voice any of this when I was showing you camp on your first day now did I?’ Luke replied cheekily as he looked over at Damien with a thumb jabbed in your direction, adding, ‘you hear what I have to deal with all the time Damien. Honestly they’re such a nightmare.’ Damien smiled and you could see the look of pride shine within Luke’s eyes at that, as though proud of himself for easing the tension from Damien’s poor shoulders.

You hope that one day you’d get the opportunity to tell him how you felt, whenever that may be because you honestly didn’t know much longer you could make yourself wait, but until then you were more then willing to play the long game.

[toecrust69]

Can i request a gn!reader who’s been trained to be a weapon most of their life so they’re not really good with feelings? They’ve been adopted by the batfamily and they get hurt on a mission, they hide and stuff but dick or Jason (maybe both?) finds out, and like kinda scold them for not saying anything and ask why they would keep this a secret. The reader replies something ‘I just didn’t think it was a big deal’ IT WAS A BIG DEAL. So it’s just fluff and angst😇. You can end it with them having a movie night after patching reader up to feel better? You can change somethings up if it crosses your boundaries! <3

Hurt

Warnings: mild mentions of violence and wounds, cussing, mentions of past trauma, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of an old abusive home, bad writing, animal abuse. Please let me know if I miss anything

A/n: Hello and tysm for requesting!! I just wanted to let you know that if you are in an abusive relationship or family, you are not alone. If you are sensitive to content like this, please leave (respectfully ofc)

Enjoy!!

You pressed yourself up against the rough alley wall, clutching your side in pure pain as tears threatened to fall down your face.

You squinted your eyes shut and gritted your teeth to hold back a grutal scream of pain and slid down the wall.

You were just out on patrol, as usual, when you heard various voices, laughter, and whines from the very same alley you layed in now; soaked in your own blood.

Without a second thought, you dove down into the alleyway. You immediately realized what was going on.

There were five men surrounding what seemed to be a puppy with various wounds.

You frowned. Damian would not have been happy if he saw this.

The men turned to look at you and you could tell some of them were panicked while the rest simply smirked and stared you down.

A large fight ensued between you and three of the men while the other two stood by and watched while also making sure the puppy wouldn't escape.

You took note of this and kicked down one of the men I the direction of the other two, causing him to stumble back, bringing the two with him.

The puppy escaped but you couldn't.

Soon they were all fighting you, and it was a bit too much for you to handle.

They kicked you over and over on your sides, punched you, spat at you, and even stabbed you.

You barely won the fight, and now you stared down at their bloody, unconscious bodies in pure hatred.

You couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed and upset with yourself.

Since the moment you were born, you were trained to be a weapon similar to Damian.

You absolutely hated it and you were more than happy when Bruce took you in, but you still felt ashamed any time you were beat in a fight.

You remember how your parents used to severely punish you any time you'd fail a mission or training.

They never held back when it came to your punishments. Even when you were a toddler.

They'd punch and kick you just like the men had and you fucking hated it.

You hated how it brought you back to those dark memories and you hated how it reminded you that you'd never fully recover from it.

Your new family always tried to convince you that'd things were different now; that you were safe.

You'd always try to believe them but there was always that lingering feeling that you were never good enough.

There was always a tiny little voice that screamed and yelled at you about how useless, weak, and annoying you were.

There was always that little voice that told you how much of a burden you were to your new and old family.

But that wasn't the problem right now.

The problem right now was how you'd get back to the batcave/manor without getting caught and interrogated by Bruce or any one of your other family members.

You scouted out for an idea in your head when you finally got one.

Damian, Bruce, and Tim were still out on patrol and Jason and Dick weren't even in the city.

So all you had to do was walk in through the front door with your spare key and pray that Alfred wasn't going to see you.

'Perfect ', you thought.

You searched for your keys in your pocket until you finally got them.

Bruce gave it to you the first time you arrived a couple months ago, claiming that it'd help keep you safe.

You never really understood what he meant but you didn't really mind.

You sloppily fit the key into the whole and twisted it until you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking.

You cracked the door open and peeked in to see if anybody was around, and thankfully, there wasn't.

You fully pushed the door in and stepped in.

Closing the door behind you, you propelled yourself towards the grand stairs.

You immediately froze in your tracks when you heard two muffled voices coming closer towards your direction.

Who could that be? Nobody except aflred was home and these were two voices.

'Was it an intruder? ' You thought and immediately got into your fighting stance, fists up, ready to fight.

The voices inched closer and closer when you realized they sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

You held your stance when the owners of the voice stepped into your field of vision.

'Fuck! ' You immediately began panicking when you realized who it was. Dick and Jason.

They were about to ask you a question when you beat them to it. "What the fuck are you doing here!?".

"We should be asking you that" Jason retorted and you rolled your eyes.

You went back to your normal stance, trying to ignore the painful sting in your feet and arms.

Dick ignored Jason and turned you, signaling you to answer first.

You sighed in annoyance and began explaining your lie you made up on the way here. "I forgot my batarangs and came back here to get them".

They both gummed and not-so-subtly glanced at one another, clearly looking through your plain lie.

"Your lying," Jason stated plainly, "Tell us the truth"

But you completely ignored and asked once again; "now what are you two doing here?".

They frowned.

"If we tell you, will you tell us the truth?" Dick asked and you thought for a second.

You were already in too deep— there was no coming back.

So, you reluctantly nodded your head in agreement.

"Bruce called us in for an emergency meeting." Jason said plainly. "There. Now tell us the truth".

You hung your head low and noticed how your hands seemed to have had a seizure from all the shaking it was doing.

You felt as if they'd yell and punish your if you told them the truth. You knew that wasn't the case; you knew they weren't like that, but you couldn't help it.

Tears threatened to come falling down when you thought of another lie. Hopefully theyd believe you this time.

"I felt a bit tired and decided to come back early." You said a bit too quickly. "Goodnight" you murmered before rushing up the stairs and to your room.

They called after you to come back but you only ignored them and sped up.

Excruciating pain shot through your body with every step you took, but you couldn't care less.

Your hand barely touched the door handle when another one put a hand over yours, stopping you from opening the door anymore.

You looked up and saw Jason, jaw clenched as he stared into your soul.

Feeling a small bit of pressure on your shoulder, you looked and saw yet another big, rough hand rested upon your shoulder. Dick.

You shrinked the longer they stared at you until one of them spoke.

"What happened" Jason asked once again, voice as cold as his stare. Actually, he wasn't even asking, he was demanding.

You gulped and your eyes darted around the room but was quickly interrupted by another deep voice.

"Answer the question" Dick said coldly and you knew that there was no going back now.

You let go of the handle with a shaky breath and turned to face the two of them. Their arms were crossed as they stared down at you and you swore you felt tiny little bugs crawling up and down your entire body.

"D-do you promise not to be mad?" You asked in a small, shaky voice.

They were a bit taken back for a second but quickly recovered; hoping you didn't see their faces.

"Of course not" Dick reassured.

You still felt a bit uneasy about telling them what actually happened but you knew they'd never actually judge you.

"I was attacked by 5 men during patrol. I was trying to fight them off but I wad too weak," tears were now falling out your eyes and down your face. "I'm sorry" your voice was small like a mouse at the end.

Their icey gazes immediately warmed up as they began trying to reassure you.

"It's okay, there's no need to apologize" dick said as he brought his hands up to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumb.

He held your face between both his hands and you couldn't help but lean into the unfamiliar touch.

"Are you hurt?" Jason asked

"Yeah... just a bit".

"Why did you tell us?" Jason asked in what seemed to be a hurt voice.

"I didn't think it was a big deal" you admitted sheepishly and dug your face more into Dicks hands as if trying to hide from your emberasment.

The truth was the complete opposite.

You knew it was a big deal but you didn't want to bother or burden anybody— especially not your brothers— with your wounds.

It was fucking painful but you thought you could patch yourself up.

You didn't need any help, right?

Right.

They were completely and utterly shocked— what do you mean no big deal!? This was a huge deal to them.

"What do you mean 'no big deal'!?" Jason asked, almost mockingly.

Dick scowled and sent him a glare, signaling at him to shut up.

A huge wave of guilt washed over Jason, but he didn't show it. "Sorry" he mumbled sheepishly.

"C'mon, let's take you to the medical room" he whispered into your ear as he lead you down the stairs and towards the batcave.

They placed you onto the small bed and in the bright florescent light, they could tell your injuries were definitely more than a big deal.

Blood covered your mask and suit. They could tell your leg especially hurt considering most of the blood came from there and your abdomen.

They didn't even understand how you even managed to walk— let alone up the stairs.

"Get me the med-kit" Jason demanded, pointing at Dick then the nearby meditation.

He was back in a flash with the med-kit and set it down beside you.

Jason opened it immediately and pulled out all the materials he needed.

Jason was always better when it came to patching up wounds compared to Dick. It was mostly because Jason got more hurt than Dick did during patrol, even though he'd never admit it.

His hands were fast but gentle as he began patching you up.

You had a high pain tolerance, so it only stang when he pressed the alcohol against your wounds.

Once he was finally done, he put away all the materials and turned to face you along with Dick.

You had since stopped crying and began pushing yourself off of the bed, standing up to your full length.

"Thank you" you mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.

They nodded and you began making your way towards the door when the stopped you.

"Hey" Dick said and you turned to look at him. You signaled for him to continue and he did, "you're not alone. You can always reach out to me or anybody else for help, okay?"

You nodded your head in agreement and they both smiled.

"Good."

.

I'm not really happy with this one but oh well, I hope at least you enjoyed

-toes<3

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEAASSEE WRITE SOMETHING WHERE ETHAN GETS HIGH😭 MAYBE AT THAT FRAT PARTY OR SUM IDC THANK YOU❤️❤️

I hope you like this! It's a little sexually suggestive, I hope that's okay!:)

Ay! - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

I don't ever want to fall when I'm this high

Summary: You occasionally like to get high with your other group of friends. Ethan decides to join you for his first smoke sesh.

Contains: Drug usage, suggestions to sex, PDA. (I've looked over this twice, if I missed something, let me know:)

A/N: The title is from one of my favorite songs I like to listen to when I'm high haha. It's a little shorter than the stuff I've been writing lately!

Ethan knew that you occasionally liked to get high before you started dating. He’d never tried it, but he wasn’t the controlling type that wanted to keep you from the ways you liked to unwind. He was starting to get curious about it, wanting to know what the big deal was. You had a few friends outside of the normal friend group that he didn’t know very well, his shyness really kicking in whenever you invited him to come smoke with you. As he started to get more confident with you, he decided to take up your offer the next time you asked.

As you stood against the wall at the Halloween frat party, he looked adorable in the cardboard knight costume Chad helped him make earlier in the day. You were dressed in something hot, but not too revealing. Just a little bit of cleavage and your thighs on display in the skirt you were wearing. He was proud to be there with you, noticing all the stares you were getting and knowing that his geeky self was the one that won you over.

“You want to dance?” you asked, smiling at him as he started to blush.

“You know I can’t dance,” he muttered, “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“I could always show you, babe,” you giggled, his cheeks getting more red.

“Yeah, maybe later,” he said, sad that he turned you down, but he was hoping you’d forget about it as the night progressed.

“Okay baby,” you said, pecking his cheek.

A few minutes later, one of your friends’ eyes met yours. She held her fingers to her mouth like you’d hold a blunt and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m going to go smoke. You want to come with me? Or do you want to hang out with Chad?” you asked, glancing around the room for his roommate.

He didn’t skip a beat, the words “I’m coming with you” coming out of his mouth so quickly that you were taken aback.

“Are you sure, babe? You might get a contact high,” you said, as he grabbed your hand.

“Yeah, I want to try it,” he said shyly, your eyes going wide. You started to wonder if he felt like this is what he needed to do to impress you.

“You don’t feel pressured into this, do you?” you questioned, as he shook his head, “Okay, let’s go.”

You led him upstairs to the dimly lit room where your friends were, them eyeing you suspiciously when they noticed Ethan was with you.

“I thought he didn’t smoke,” one girl asked, as Ethan looked over to you.

“He hasn’t before. Take it easy on him,” you warned, sitting down on the couch, and patting the spot for Ethan to sit beside you. You knew if someone had something to say or made fun of him, you probably wouldn’t be the nicest about it.

As the blunt was lit and started to get passed around the circle, the smell filled the room. Ethan got nervous when it made it to you, knowing he was next. He watched you bring the blunt to your lips, taking a deep inhale and holding it for a few seconds before letting the cloud fall past your lips as it exited your lungs. You smiled when you turned your body towards him.

“Okay, baby,” you said, passing it to him, “When you inhale, try to hold it in for a little bit.”

He held it up to his mouth before inhaling, the coughing started almost immediately as the smoke burned his throat and lungs. Your friends watched him, one of them asking “You good?” as he continued to cough.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he croaked out between coughs, making you giggle.

He passed it to the next person in the circle as he relaxed back onto the couch.

“You sure you’re okay?” you asked, grabbing his hand. He smiled at you in response, his thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. He didn’t want to talk, knowing how strained his voice would sound, and he was scared he’d start coughing again.

When it made it back to you and you took your hit, he still watched you, wondering how many times you’d done this before to not be a choking mess every time you inhaled. You let out a small cough, the hit being bigger than your last one.

“You want to try this again?” your voice was a little hoarse, as he took it between his fingers and brought it to his lips.

This time, he was able to hold it in for a few seconds before the coughing started. He felt like he was starting to get the hang of it as the high started to affect him. His arm went around you, wanting to be close. You angled your head to look up at him, his teeth showing as he smiled at the feeling.

After the blunt made it to him a third time, he was a giggling mess. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, admiring how cute he was.

“I think I need to get you out of here,” you said, laughing as you stood up. He stood up, too, waving goodbye to your friends, his shyness fading away when one of the guys told him he was welcome to come smoke with them anytime. He felt good that he was able to share his first experience like this with you.

“I understand why you do this,” he said, as he literally bumped into Chad at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, dude,” he said, noticing Ethan’s squinty eyes and goofy smile on his face. The light wasn’t bright, but he could undoubtedly see the glassy appearance in Ethan’s eyes. “Are you stoned?”

Ethan started laughing in response, making you laugh, too. “No, come on. You know I don’t do stuff like that.”

You rolled your eyes at his horrible attempt at a lie, “Yeah, and I’m not high either, huh?” you asked, as he looked back over to Chad.

“Okay, I might be a little high,” he said, “It’s definitely taking the edge off.”

“I’m happy you’re having fun. You need to let go sometimes,” Chad said with a smile, as you lead Ethan back over to the wall you were standing at earlier in the night.

He leaned down to kiss you as you rested against the wall, the PDA catching you off guard because the most he ever felt comfortable doing in front of other people was holding your hand. You kissed him back, his mouth moving against yours. He smiled at you when he pulled away.

“I remember someone saying she wanted to dance earlier,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you to the middle of the floor.

His hands went to your hips as he pulled you closer to him while you swayed to the music. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, just in awe of how carefree you looked. He leaned down to kiss you, it quickly escalating until his lips were moving along your jaw.

“Baby, not right now,” you playfully scolded, as he pulled his lips away.

“Sorry, that guy over there has been watching you. I wanted him to know you were mine,” he responded, the cockiness in his voice making you flustered.

“Is that it? Or does weed make you horny?” you asked, a curious smile playing on your lips.

“Both,” he said, as you stopped moving and took in the mischievous look in his eyes. “Can we get out of here soon?”

You smirked, the realization that he’d never had high sex giving you an idea, “Your dorm or mine?”

[kitty-tea]

Like father, like son

(Link to masterlist)

Read part 2 here

Read part 3 here

Summary: Harry and his father James are similar in so many ways. They like Quidditch, they’re both Gryffindors, and they have you in their lives. The difference is that you feel something for James that you’ll never feel for Harry who is younger than you.

A/n: originally supposed to be a single part but it was too long so I turned it into multiple parts.

Pairing: James Potter x reader

NSFW 18+ only!

Word count: 3.8k

Tags/warnings: mature content, love triangle (kind of), masturbation, sexual content, fluff, angst, mentions of death, reader is of age, heavy sexual tension, borderline adultery, one-sided crush, James lives, doesn’t follow the main storyline at all, conflicting feelings, accidental groping, innocence kink, slow burn

Ever since your parents were murdered by Death Eaters, you had never been in a stable living situation. You never stopped moving in between the Potters’ house, the Weasleys’ Burrow, or Sirius’ ancestral home. Out of everywhere you’ve moved, it was those three places you spent the most time at. When you were an eighteen-year-old in your seventh year, and your friend Harry was fifteen and in his fifth year, you got the news that your childhood home had been burned down. Harry and the surviving adult members of the Order decided it was then that they would introduce themselves to you, and the secret society your parents were a part of. They knew it was the Death Eaters who were responsible for your parent’s demise, but with no evidence of their responsibility, the Ministry had no arrests.

Everything in your life began to change and move too fast for you to keep track of from then on. The pain of losing your parents was easily numbed out by all the studying you subjected yourself to, but it wasn’t until after you graduated that the pain settled into the void that was once filled by academic stress. The members of the Order understood that you were in no place to go out and find a job, so they gave you allowance money for doing house chores for them.

You first met Harry formally when he, as a first year, was introduced by Oliver Wood, as the new Seeker for your house’s Quidditch team. You were skeptical about having a first year player on the team since it was against the rules, but Wood and McGonagall told you to trust their judgment, and Harry had won his first match. You congratulated him, and after that, you’d kind of taken him under your wing. Being older than him by three years, you weren’t close with him in the same way he was with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, but besides that, he never had a big sister, so that’s how he came to see you as. But that was when he was younger.

When you visited his family’s home in Godric’s Hollow over the winter holidays, you met his parents for the first time as they gave you their sincere condolences for your loss.

Another thing in your life that moved at you too fast was the little crush you were starting to have on your little friend’s married father. The moment you met James, you got straight into bonding over Quidditch since the both of you played the same position for Gryffindor. You were eighteen years old, you never had a crush before, your life was a stressful mess, and you didn’t need the guilt of being attracted to a married man to be added to it. You wondered if it was normal to feel the way you felt about having a crush on somebody. You’ve heard the other girls at school giggling and smiling about their crushes, but they were boys their age, not married, and they weren’t dealing with the type of stress you were dealing with.

Out of every family whose house you stayed at you spent the most time at the Potters’. Lily had come to see you as the daughter she never had. James on the other hand, was someone you were so desperate to hide your attraction from his wife.

Since you didn’t have much clothes of your own, you had to wear Lily’s hand-me-downs, or God forbid, whatever Sirius’ mother used to wear in her teenage years. Between those two women’s fashion senses, it was easy to say you favored Lily’s bright sundresses over Walburga’s gowns that reeked of darkness and death.

The sight of you wearing Lily’s old clothes around the house was enough to make James lose it if he wasn’t in front of his family with his wife complimenting you on how adorable you looked. Lose what? His sanity? He didn’t want to know.

That night as his wife was asleep next to him, you asleep on the living room couch, and his son asleep in his own room, all of them blissfully unaware of his racing thoughts, he couldn’t get the image of how you looked out of his mind.

James felt guilt and arousal overcome him as he pictured the way Lily’s dress (now yours) clung so effortlessly to your figure, showing off your thighs, barely leaving anything to the imagination.

Those days that you went to go live with other families were a breath of relief for James as much as it was torture. Relief because his mind wasn’t clouded with his filthy thoughts about you that he had in front of his wife, and torture because he missed everything about the intoxicated feeling he’d get from your addictive scent when you’d walk past him to the fierce pounding in his chest that made him feel the same way he felt about Lily.

Speaking of looking at you, he didn’t think you’d catch onto how his son started looking at you, but he did. He was a boy once, he understood the signs of a lovesick boy, and Harry checked all the boxes. He hoped that he wouldn’t be pursuing a relationship with you. He was a fifteen-year-old boy, and you were a young woman, of course the feelings his underage son had were no less inappropriate than the feelings he had for you as a married man!

To go behind his wife’s back and act on his feelings would not only be a betrayal to her, but to you and his son as well. It would ruin the family dynamic that the four of you had been building up. And he didn’t want to take that away from you. Even though you were an adult, Lily and James referred to you and Harry as “the kids.” Lily might’ve thought it was cute to have herself and James call you that, but to him it made him feel disgusted at himself, for it only reminded him even more that while you were closer to his son’s age, you were not a kid.

The day he’d almost crossed the line of no return was during the hot summer of his son’s sixteenth birthday, when Lily told you, Harry, and James that she was going out to meet friends, leaving the three of you alone. James decided it was a good idea to take “the kids” out for some ice cream in town.

Once the three of you sat down next to one of the coffee tables, taking refuge in the cool air circulating around the ice cream shop, Harry sat on the couch next to you while James took his seat on an armchair across the table from you.

Harry congratulated you on finishing your magical education, telling you how strong you’ve grown after everything you went through in your last year. You then shifted the focus of the conversation onto Harry’s upcoming sixth year, asking him about the classes he’ll be taking.

James watched as you and Harry talked for a while. Even though his eyes never left you, he could sense the lingering looks his son would give you, and it made him seath inside. James didn’t know if it was cute or pitiful that you made it very clear to Harry that when you would tell him you saw him as more than a friend, you meant that you saw him as a little brother.

When Harry had finished his ice cream, he pulled out some Muggle coins from his pocket and told you to join him in the arcade area of the shop when you were done before running off.

Even though you were still in a public space, James felt like he was alone with you.

With the way you were licking your ice cream off the spoon slowly while keeping your eyes on him, it would’ve been easy for onlookers to mistake it as an attempt at seduction. Even he would’ve mistaken it as such if you didn’t know he was married. He thought you might’ve been spacing out, unaware that a drop of the sweet threat had stuck near the corner of your lips as you finished the bowl.

Only when he called out your name to get your attention did you jolt out of whatever daydreams you were immersed in.

That sweet look you gave him with your doe eyes almost made him forget what to say until his eyes fell to your lips.

“You’ve got something. Right here.” He pointed to the spot on his face to mirror where the ice cream was stuck.

You stuck your tongue out swinging it near your cheek and failing to reach that spot which made James chuckle. You looked so silly with your whole face scrunched up in concentration.

“Did I get it?” You asked hopefully.

“Here, let me help you.” He said without thinking as he got up from his seat and plopped down next to you. Right to where your exposed thigh was touching the fabric of his jeans.

He was so close to you he felt like he could get drunk just off the scent of your strawberry shampoo. You looked so small and innocent, looking up at him like a deer in the headlights.

It was as if his heart was possessing his body and controlling his hand that brought itself up to your cheek, his thumb wiping across it. He could’ve just let go of you, or better yet get you a napkin to clean yourself up which is what he should’ve done in the first place. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, you weren’t a little girl. That thought still didn’t make him feel like less of a pervert.

He was for sure spacing out because the next thing he knew, he found his thumb had landed on your bottom lip. He miraculously found it in himself to stifle a groan that wanted to escape him as he felt your tongue give out a small, hesitant lick.

“All done!” You let go of his thumb and gave him a cheery smile as if you hadn’t just almost made him cum right there. “I’m gonna go see what game Harry’s playing!”

You stood up with your empty bowl and threw it in the waste bin before running off to join Harry, leaving him to feel disgusted in himself.

He was indeed disgusted in himself for how he had imagined for a split second that it was his cum all over your pretty lips instead of the ice cream.

One of your favorite activities to participate in was dueling. The older adults in the Order thought dueling was something important that should be incorporated into your life post-education. You thought it was interesting how each of them had different styles for training you. With Sirius, he would throw insults to purposefully catch you off guard, to simulate fighting with the enemy, while with Molly, she would tell you what a good job you were doing and to keep it up.

It was Remus who first brought up the idea to have everyone take turns training you. You couldn’t stop blushing as he bragged to James and Lily about how you and Harry were one of the most talented students in your years he saw potential in. And now that you were out of school, it was the perfect time for you to focus on learning how to fight to expand on that potential.

You usually had your training sessions in the Potters’ or Weasleys’ backyard since there was way more space and less risk of property damage than Sirius’ family home in London.

It was a guarantee that Harry or the younger Weasley children would come and watch you, seeing that it would be a good learning experience for them too.

Harry sat next to his father on a bench, giving you a thumbs up as you stood in front of Sirius, preparing for the sparring session in the Potters’ backyard. It was just you, Sirius, and the father son duo out there. Lily was out once again this time at her job.

You and Sirius got to it straight away firing spells at each other. While Sirius used Protego, you knew you weren’t as skilled in the shielding charm, so you opted to move out of the way when he’d blast at you.

“Don’t you know you’re just tiring yourself out with all this moving!” He shouted at you. “Bombar-”

“Arresto momentum! Descendo!” That combination had him slow down his movements before suddenly thrusting him onto the grass.

“Nice one!” James clapped his hands. “You’ve got good reflexes! Keep going!”

“Shut up James, you’re distracting her! That’s my job!” Sirius turned to him, giving you an opportunity to cast Flipendo, sending him rolling backwards.

“I win!” You held up your arms as Harry jumped up and high-fived you. “Who’s distracted now?” You stuck your tongue out at Sirius, who was still on the ground, rubbing his head.

“That’s not fair! James, it’s all your fault! It’ll be our turn after the break!” He pointed accusingly at his best friend.

“I’ll be looking forward to it. You won’t stand a chance against me, old friend.” James smirked.

“Both Sirius and your dad are such show offs.” You laughed with Harry. “Typical Gryffindors.”

“Hey, don’t pretend like you’re not one of those too, young lady!” Sirius snapped his fingers at you.

“Ugh. I’ve got to use the loo. I think she flipendo-ed my bladder.” He groaned, standing up. You and Harry only looked at each other and burst out laughing as he disappeared through the back door.

“You’re getting so much better! I can’t wait until I’m old enough to use magic outside school! We can practice together!” Harry praised you.

“Aww, Harry you’re so sweet! I love you!” You smiled at him, reaching out to ruffle his already messy hair.

“I… love you too.” James knew that one sentence had two different meanings depending on which one of you said it. Besides, what did the young boy know about love? What he was experiencing was a silly teenage crush. He couldn’t fall in love with you, he was too young for you. He wondered if his own son even knew how poorly he was concealing his little crush from him. He might have you fooled, but James knew him better than you did in terms of how he showed his feelings.

“You’re the best little brother I never had!” You opened your arms, letting Harry into your embrace.

“Yeah, thanks.” He wrapped his hands around the small of your back. Both you and James could see the frown forming on his face. James was glad in a way that you and Harry weren’t the same age or else he would already have asked you out, he was completely sure of it.

“What’s wrong?” You innocently asked Harry, tilting your head. You looked as though you were wondering what Harry was thinking as you caught him staring at you.

“Nothing… I’m just-I’ll just be standing outside the bathroom and telling Sirius to stop hogging it.”

It was just you and James now, standing alone in the middle of the grass.

“Is that how you’re preparing for your turn with Sirius? By standing around doing nothing?” You spoke first.

“Yes.” James shrugged. “He’s got no idea what’s coming for him.”

You could feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you thought you saw him wink at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to find something to keep the conversation going.

“You did well. You’re still young, and you’ve got so much to learn.” James said. You didn’t know when you had moved so close together to the point of your toes nearly touching. “Show me your stance again.”

You put your wand out in front of your face and flicked your arm.

“Darling, I’m sorry, but you’re leaving yourself open to an attack. Try this.” Your breath hitched in your throat as James got so close behind you to the point his chest was lightly pressed against your back.

He took your fist that was clenching your wand, lowering it slightly so that it wasn’t as in your face anymore.

“There. Now you can see your target much better.” His voice dripped into your ear like sweet honey, making you feel weak in your chest.

You were however more horrified with yourself at the ache that began to grow between your legs as you felt the tips of the fingers of his other hand brush through your hair before tucking it behind your ear.

“Why don’t you try again?” He whispered, his lips almost touching your earlobe. “This time, bring your legs apart more.”

“Wh-What?” That was the only word you remembered how to say at that moment. You were so distracted by his smooth voice you couldn’t stop the image of yourself naked with your legs spread in front of him from forming in your mind.

“To help you balance.” James clarified. Okay, he didn’t mean anything sexual by that. You had to remind yourself as you felt a shiver run through you along with his hands that slid from your arms to your waist and hips before landing on the cotton hem of your shorts.

You could feel the heat between your thighs grow as James gently squeezed the soft flesh that was dangerously close to your pussy. You were glad you wore panties that day or else you would’ve soaked through the thin material of your shorts by now.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you squirmed and you felt James’ forefinger grazing just the lightest bit against your pussy. You could’ve sworn you heard him whisper a cuss word.

“James?” You tried to bring him back. “How am I doing. Is my stance good now?”

“Yeah… you’re doing excellent.” He breathed out.

You had never felt an erection against your body before, but you were sure you could feel something hard pressing against your ass at that moment.

“I’m going to let go,” thank goodness. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it with him manhandling you like that. “And you’re going to cast a spell with the new stance I taught you.”

You felt like you could finally breathe as the weight of his body disappeared from behind you.

“Engorgio.” The flower nearby ballooned up.

“Good girl.” You didn’t know whether his eyes had darkened or it was the lighting.

James was as equally disgusted in himself as he was intrigued. He had come this close again to crossing the line between what was and wasn’t inappropriate with you. Actually, he was sure he deserved time in hell for how he was touching you earlier as it was definitely considered inappropriate. He was intrigued because he was now sure the attraction went both ways.

The slightest whimpers he could hear coming out of you was something he couldn’t get out of his mind as his hand softly squeezed around his cock, with his other hand planted against the shower wall.

It was like his eyes had suddenly been opened to the glances you’d cast at him that would linger a little longer than what was normal. Speaking of normal, he knew he shouldn’t be shaming or ridiculing you for these feelings you were having. He knew it was normal for young women to catch feelings for older men. He’d seen it in the way Nymphadora Tonks looked at his best friend Remus, even if Remus himself tried denying it with excuses such as, “I’m too poor, I’m too old, I’m a werewolf.”

He imagined that instead of his hand pumping around his cock, that it was yours, or any body part of yours. Your lips, your pussy, your tongue, he wanted it all. He let himself admit it.

He could never go back to telling himself that he only saw you as a daughter. He may be able to convince everyone otherwise, but not himself.

His mind went back to how his finger had accidentally grazed over your clothed pussy, where he could feel the heat of it along with the outline of your inner lips rubbing against the seam of your shorts.

He started wondering how you would taste on his tongue. He imagined you would be an addicting treat to him that he couldn’t get enough of.

He then got curious about how tight your walls would feel around his dick. He deduced from your conversations that you never had sex from the lack of boyfriends mentioned. At this point, he was so desperate for his seed to spill into your virgin cunt, to the point he shut his mouth abruptly as he caught himself grunting your name. He knew no one in the house would hear him over the sound of running water, but he could never be too careful.

With one last stroke of his cock along with the image of you bent over in front of him, water glistening along the soft curves of your body, he let himself go. He wished it was your tits his cum hit not the shower walls. He squashed that thought out of his mind almost as soon as it crept in.

Trying to escape those thoughts, he aggressively yanked the shower head off the rack, desperate to wash away any evidence of his indecent activity.

Even behind your innocence, you had to be hiding a beast that was waiting for the right man to have it lured out. He wanted it to be him, but he couldn’t betray everything he and his family had worked for, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time.

Why couldn’t he just look at you the same way his friends looked at you?!

There was definitely something wrong with James because the way he looked at you was not how any father should look at his daughter.

Then, there was Harry. The way he looked at you was not how any brother should look at his big sister.

Harry’s little crush he had on you seemed innocent, the extreme opposite of James’ sexual attraction towards you.

For a second James envied his son. He was too innocent to have his mind plagued by these wild fantasies of you. All he got was a fluttery feeling in his stomach from looking at you which translated to a poorly concealed blush to other people’s point of view.

He understood Harry’s feelings towards you. You were a beautiful, kind, young woman, how could he not be smitten by you? How could he be angry at his son for feeling something so natural for any boy to feel?

He could just be angry at himself. Yes, he deserved to burn in hell after all.

[sinsandsweetness]

rickyl x fem!reader but it’s her birthday, and they wanna make their girl feel super special:). like reader is super sweet to everyone and she’s kinda a crybaby but rick and daryl love her for it and mock her for it which only makes her cry more:( idk if you write for stuff like that but i think it’s a great idea!

note- ok anon I love love love crybaby!reader, so thank u for this prompt. not sure if you wanted fluff or smut... so I went with my gut. If you wanted fluff, just tell me and I can whip up something else:) (Also, everyone I know always tells me that they cry on their birthday... is this a universal experience? I never understood it lol) let me know what u think <3

warnings- smut obv. 18+ content, mdni. crybaby!reader, dom!Rick and Daryl, teasing, edging, light dacryphilia cause it just comes with the territory, not proofread well. (I went down an edging rabbit hole on p*rnhub so… this is just the inevitable result of that)

NOT YET, SWEETHEART

"What's wrong?" Rick asks all gentle, approaching you, rubbing your nose with your sleeve. Sniffling away on the bed.

"I broke it." You swallow, pointing to the couple flowers still lying on the floor. Hand picked by both of your boys. Set up as a surprise on your dresser with a note so cute, you’d have it tattooed on your body if you could. It was so sentimental. So sweet.

They knew that you didn't care about gifts, just the thought people put behind them. The part that made you emotional was the little polaroid stapled to the card. A picture of you and them during the last summers Fourth of July celebration. You didn't even remember someone taking a photo that night, but it’s definitely your favourite picture of yourself ever. In between the two men, arms around your waist and sparklers lit, holding them up to the sky. It’s perfect.

So you loved their gift, but you were trying to move it. Just so that it could be on your nightstand. Where you’d be able to smell the fresh flowers while you laid down in the clean, satiny sheets. That’s when it slipped. Not realizing how heavy it was and then fumbling with it. Crashing down onto the hardwood and breaking into a million shards of glass and broken stems. You tried your best to sweep it up, slightly blinded by your tears. You ruined their gift. Petals strewn all over the ground. Water everywhere. The broken vase now sitting in the trash bin, along with your self-esteem. It was awful.

A tear rolls down your cheek, and you can hear Rick laugh a little.

"Don't laugh..." you whine, covering your face.

"I'm not laughing, it's just cute. You're cute."

"You are laughing. And now Daryl is too... great." You plop back onto the bed. Daryl must have followed him upstairs and was now leaning against the doorway, biting back a smile at the sight in front of him; your head bouncing slightly off the plush mattress, hands still covering your wet cheeks.

"Thought you had a good day... what's making you cry, baby?" Daryl asked, approaching the bed as well. Both men on either side of you. Hands brushing your knees.

"I did!" You breath in a shaky breath. More tears forming, threatening to fall. You really did have a great day. You woke up in between them. Had some blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Read in your hammock the entire afternoon. Plus, had a surprise party at Carols with cake and candles and everything. It was the sweetest birthday you could ever imagine. You felt so special. So loved by your whole group. And then seeing the gift that Rick and Daryl left in your room, the photo and the flowers. It was just so beautiful. So thoughtful and caring.

"Then why all the tears, doll?" Daryl asks as Rick grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your face. Smiling down at you.

"Everyones just been so nice n' then your note was just so sweet and special, and- and then I- I broke your gift..." You explain.

“It’s not a big deal, hun, we can go get you a knew one.” Rick tells you.

“But it was a present. It won’t be the same.”

"It’s just a vase, baby." Daryl chimes in, hand running up your thigh. Sending little tingles down your spine. He didn’t get it. It’s not just a vase. It’s a vase that they picked out for you. Special for you.

"And besides, that's not our whole gift, sweetie. You know that, right?" Rick asks. Propping himself on his elbow, down next to you.

"Hm?" His comment piques your curiosity. Momentarily forgetting about the flowers.

"Yeah, we have one more. Its realllyyy special. Just for you. Our sweet, sensitive girl." Rick tucks some hair out of your face and you start to catch on.

"Oh." You whisper. Daryls hand now under your dress, tracing the little bow on the front of your panties.

"Mhm." Daryl says against your neck, his soft little kisses being pressed into the skin.

“What is it?” You voice is all breathy. Trying to think clearly even with both men’s hands starting to roam.

“Mmm I think it’s a little easier to show then tell. Don’t you agree, Daryl?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you relax and close those pretty eyes.” Daryl offers and you can hear them start to shift. Your lids immediately fluttering closed at his suggestion.

“Let us give you your special gift, huh?”

“Okay,” you say hesitantly. Awaiting their special gift. Your panties being peeled down your thighs achingly slow by one of their hands. Daryl settling in between your legs as Rick stays and leans into kiss you. His tongue tracing yours as your hands come up, loosely holding onto his hair. The teeniest little moan escapes you when Daryl’s lips brush your clit.

“That feel good?” Daryl says from his spot between your legs. His middle finger dipping inside and curling upward. Quickly finding your sweet spot.

“Mhm,” you mumble against Rick’s lips, legs starting to squirm at the pleasure. But Rick’s hand comes down to your hips and holds you in place.

“Stay still, ok. Need you to be on your best behaviour if you want your gift. Can you do that?” He says, leaning back to see your flushed and disheveled state. You can only nod eagerly.

“Good girls use their words.” Daryl adds, pushing a second finger in and making you gasp.

“Yes! I’ll be good. I- I’ll stay still. I will.” You assure them both.

Daryl’s head dips back down, starting to lick at your clit. Flat tongue, up and down, sucking for a moment and then repeating the pattern. You need to grab onto something so you tangle your fingers into his hair. Gently tugging him even closer, face smushed up against your cunt. Not that he minded.

Ricks mouth makes its way down your dress, gently biting at your nipple through the fabric.

“I’m close...” You warn them. A little embarrassed at how quickly you were getting there.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Rick tells you.

“But-”

“If you cum without permission, I promise i’ll have you crying a lot harder than you were a just a few minutes ago.” Daryl says sternly. Rick stays biting back a smile at your reaction. Your pretty, doe eyes already starting to gloss over. Pooling with that salty liquid.

“She’s fine. She knows the rules.” His hand comes up with soft gentle strokes, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I-”

“You know the rules, right? Tell Daryl that you’re gonna cooperate.” Rick doesn’t let you interrupt. Doesn’t let you try and fight it. He knows that it wouldn’t end well for you if you did.

“Okay. Okay. Can I cum, Daryl? Please?”

“Not yet.” He goes back to work between your legs. Sucking your clit and pumping his fingers. The knot in your stomach starting to form, and you know you’re close. You’re thirty seconds from cumming all over his fingers.

“Dare, I’m close.”

He slows down. Making sure you wouldn’t get there. You whined. Disappointed at the ruined orgasm, but still grateful for the tongue on your pussy. Not wanting to risk whatever punishment they’d come up with.

“It’s gonna feel so good when we’re done, sweetie. That’s why we’re doing it. It’s all part of the present, ok?” Rick rubs your cheek with his thumb, assuring you that he wouldn’t let the edging go on forever.

“Okay.” You need his lips to distract you. So your one hand comes up and pulls him back in. Kissing him nice and deep.

You’re close again. The tongue on your clit knowing exactly how to get you there. You think about just not telling him. Letting yourself cum and trying to hide it. It would stop the teasing. But before you even have the chance he stops, tugs on Ricks shirt and swaps places with him.

They go on for what feels like ever. Tongue and finger fucking you until you were dangerously close.

“Right there, right there,” you squeak, hands tightening in their hair. And then they’d stop. Switch their pace and make you whimper. They do it until tears start to form. When Daryl notices and starts to make fun of you.

“You cryin' already, princess? You haven’t even cum yet.” Yup. You're aware. That’s the whole point. You haven’t. And you need to. So, so badly.

You feel pathetic at this point, finally starting to beg. Trying to hold off the orgasm, and more importantly, the tears from erupting.

“Please, I can’t take it. I’ve been so good, you guys. I need to cum. Please…” You try and convince them. No matter how pathetic it might sound.

You thought this was supposed to be your present. Not theirs.

“Mmm she is asking real sweet. All polite and pathetic. What do you think, Rick?”

He only hummed against you. Making you moan out loud.

You can't take it any longer. You cum before the conversation can end.

“Ah- I’m-” you gasp. Legs staring to shake and close in on Rick’s face. That’s it. His tongue works away at your clit, as you finally reach your climax. A hot flood of tingles erupting in your core. Holding him against you as you ride out your high on his face.

Rick was right. It did feel so good now that it was done. The final release after all that edging and teasing. It was honestly drool worthy.

“Uhoh,” Daryl smiles against your lips, that devious tone in his voice. Fuck. That doesn’t sound good.

Rick comes up for air, lips glistening with your slick, eyes hazed over and hungry. Damn. He looks so pretty between your legs. You can actually feel yourself convulse around nothing.

“Thought you said you were gonna behave?” Rick teases, thumb coming up to wipe a single droplet off the apple of your cheek. He leans in and kisses you. The creamy taste of your cum still on his lips. On his tongue. He pulls away to let you answer.

“I tried. I tried to be good, I just- you kept going and I couldn’t help it-” You try to defend yourself. Knowing that it was useless. It was part of their plan right from the beginning. It wouldn’t matter if you had their permission or not.

“Better get ready, baby. There’s gonna be a lot more tears when you’re begging for us to stop instead.”

Shit.

You are so in for it now.

-

taglist: @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae

(Question for all you loveys... do we prefer past tense or present? I usually do past because its just easier to write and stay consistent imo but for this one I switched it up... so what do we think? Which is better to read?)

Let me know what you think! xoxo

[charliedaltonsentpgf]

my boyfriend charlie dalton headcanons ☀︎︎

very passionate writer- not just poetry, but letters, mini stories, etc

writes said love letters to you often

he’ll spray them with his cologne

there was only once he forgot an anniversary, and he spent the next week making it up to you

flowers every day, chocolates on your doorstep every night

likes to bring you to dead poets meetings- sometimes he’ll let you take his part in reading, just so he can hear you speak passionately

likes to draw on you, whether it be with actual pen or just his fingers

you’ll leave with either mini hearts or something very inappropriate

escapes with you to the theatre quite often

he once snuck you backstage to meet a cast you were crazy about

“this is y/n, and i know you guys are a big deal but so are they-“ “charlie!”

another time was just so he could get you alone for more than 15 minutes, doing what, he’ll never tell.

he’s very funny but you’re never the bud of his jokes

actually very cleanly and takes great care of himself

however he doesn’t want anyone to know his elaborate skincare routine

has a very hard time opening up, but once he does, it’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him

will do anything to see a smile from you

once jumped into a frozen over lake just to get you to laugh after a long day

he crawled out shivering, cut up a bit from clashing with the thin ice

“why the hell would you do that?!” you say between laughs

looking with a sense of longing you’d had yet to see from him, he said “you could cure the world with that laugh”

you’ve never seen him nervous- that’s not something he does

however, on the rare occasion you sense the tiniest bit of antsy-ness, you’ll grab his arm, ever so gently, and not let go

has never been rough with you in anyway, shape, or form, unless you ask for it, of course.

interlocks fingers when holding hands

has the most meaningful look to him, he doesn’t half ass anything he looks at, especially you

denied how he felt about you for a very long time

the king of avoidance on his feelings, until he met you, that is

the first time he kissed you was when he confessed he liked you

outside of the first annual ball welton academy ever hosted, you followed him outside in a rush of anger after he rejected your plea to join the dead poets for the billionth time.

“i don’t understand why you treat me like this- let me join the dead poets. you know i’m good writer and an even better poet. how much longer is it going to take for you to realize i’ve already won? and that everyone is against you on your denial to let me in? are you afraid of my talent? my wit? what? my seemingly flawless ways i’ve won everyone over except you?”

“i’m afraid of how i feel about you. i’m afraid of the dread, the longing, the space, everything. the continuous push and shove i feel inside every time i find myself enjoying your company for a little too long. I’m afraid of you. you’re my dread and desire in one goddamn place and it kills off every wall i’ve ever put up in my life”

the shock on your face was all it took. he closed the distance and within seconds, you found yourself feeling as weightless as a man on the moon.

he’s the most dedicated person you’ve ever known- surprisingly to even his studies

he hates on cameron the most, but that’s mainly because of his unrequited crush he had on him as kids

you tease him for it all the time,

“i wasn’t the one who was in love with cameron-“ “but you’re in love with me now, so who’s really losing?”

really an incredible romantic

couldn’t plan a bad date even if he tried

a very good kisser,

incorporates everything into a kiss, it’s a full out affair to him

a world class champion at rolling his eyes

very avid in helping you study

he likes to host actual study sessions for just the both of you

but when the others are invited, he always gets it done no matter what

very serious board game player,

tries to get everyone to take up a game with him but they all know how that’ll end

[mewsmagic]

Alright I did say I’d bring my infodumps and fantheying here to tumblr instead so lemme actually do this for once!!

Spoiler warning for Alrecchino’s animated short!

If you haven’t watched it yet, here’s the link!

Alright first things first! It looks like Clervie and Bulle Fruit girl were Alrecchino’s closest friends/sisters, which’s just so cute 🥺

From the visual storytelling and just how we saw Arle and Clervie together much more often than with Bulle Fruit girl, it also appears like Clervie was much much closer to Arlecchino, which’s so interesting!!

I love how Arlecchino is all about blacks, whites and occasional reds, she was always quiet and doing her own thing, and SHE HAD ACTUAL SHORT HAIR UNTIL RECENTLY ACTUALLY!!!! Gnc nation won!!!!

Anyway ahemmm LOL and Clervie was the opposite. A pink, outgoing girl, full of life and wonder for the world she lives in. Also, she was “girly” and wears dresses, while Arlecchino doesn’t seem fond of them (like me omggg)

Like, they’re literally opposites in everything, yet they were so close and so important to each other. Thinking about what comes next hurts my heart like nothing else just because of this.

Another thing I wanna bring up before we move on is: in this part, we learn that Arle’s deal with the black hand is indeed some kind of curse. And that’s probably why she was able to tell Furina’s also cursed, she had experience with one since birth after all

I LOVE THAT THEY HAD THEIR OWN PLUSHIES MADE IN THEIR IMAGE!!!! Arlecchino’s plushie is so cute!!! I wonder if she kept Clervie’s after all these years 🥺

In this part we also learn that their “mother” usually “argues” with her daughters, and for some reason Clervie has quite some injuries. From this, it’s not hard to assume she’s literally beating them up, which’s nasty.

A full grown woman beating up literal kids who cannot defend themselves? As a survivor of parental abuse, I felt this so hard, and I hate that hag so fucking much already.

This part I didn’t get at first, probably bc I didn’t pay attention to the beginning; when I watched it again, I caught it however. Their “mother” not only physically abused them but also made them battle each other to death.

Resulting in Arlecchino being the very one that killed Clervie, and potentially Bulle Fruit girl too.

Naturally, she was full of rage. I would be too, if I were in her shoes.

And that’s why I love her battle against “mother”. I didn’t take many screenshots because it’s a fast moving scene, but “mother”’s dialogue seems to hint that she’s the kind of mother that pretends to be caring and gentle but is actually cruel and ruthless in her actions. Which’s tbh the worst kind of mother probably.

Another detail that caught my eye was that Arlecchino was no match for her without her curse. But as soon as she released and embraced her curse, she not only defeated her “mother”, she blew up the entire building. Which’s epic as hell and I love that for her LOL

I find it interesting that Arlecchino was actually pretty close to becoming a criminal because of killing “mother”. Which’s so tragic when you think that she had already killed Fatui members before (Clervie and Bulle Fruit girl), but they weren’t ranked enough for it to be a big deal, like their deaths didn’t mean anything. But to Arlecchino they did… Aaaaanywayyyy.

For some reason I thought the Arlecchino title succession was much more automatic, like 1. Kill your parent 2. You’re now king. I think it’s because I’ve seen this in other shows before, but here she was taken to Snezhnaya to be judged by the Tsaritsa herself.

Luckily, the Tsaritsa not only pardoned her crimes but also promoted her to Arlecchino. Also I gotta say, her words… “My poor, mad, cursed Knave” hit me so hard. The Tsaritsa does seem to not be that cold and to empathize with her. Based of her tbh.

And at the end, we see a seemingly orphan child. At first I thought this was Freminet, but he has a more yellowish tone of eye color, so maybe this is a random kid?

Anyway, the thing that matters here is that Arlecchino says that she’ll be his strict and unfeeling “father”, which immediately stood out to me against her “mother”’s “kind and caring” approach.

Looks like she decided to be a “strict and unfeeling father” to not become like her own “mother”. This is so real of her tbh. I already knew the previous Knave was nasty, but with this animation it really hit home to me, as a survivor too.

I wanna pull her even more now LOL may all Arlecchino wanters become Arlecchino havers!!!!! I’m so excited!!!!