#looking at this makes me feel so reassured

[dollyyun]

VIDEO CALL ✧ L.HS

SYNOPSIS ✧ you’ve been missing your boyfriend a little too much, yearning him to return to your arms, but you need him more than ever. seeing how desperately you crave him, he offers a solution that eventually leads to the two of you having video sex.

PAIRING ✧ idol bf!heeseung x fem reader

WARNINGS ✧ soft and sappy in the beginning, loverboy heeseung, reader whines a lot, reader is so fucking needy (i know i am), video call sex, masturbations, fingering, clit stimulation, mild degradation, uses of dildo, orgasms, dirty talks, praise kink, daddy kink, heeseung is so in love, idk what else

WORD COUNT✧ 9.4K

A/N ✧ idk how to write a good video call smut (or a good smut in general) but idc bc i HAD to get this out of my system and i enjoyed writing it since i’ve been going insane in oomf’s dm about this weverse live heeseung specifically. oomf told me how i was really down bad for this heeseung and the way he made me so needy for him plsplspls I NEED HIM SO BAD IT ACHES- anyways, this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away. enjoy this light and fun fic :3 or don’t.

The thumping of your heart amplifies as soon as his handsome face appears on your phone screen. His hair looks slightly dishevelled, and he is still adorned in the same sweater he was wearing three hours ago when he was doing a Weverse live. God, he looks so good. But a frown slowly pulls at the corners of your lips as you notice a fleeting somnolence in the weight of his hanging eyelids. 

“Hey, baby.” Heeseung greets you affectionately while your heart flutters at the boyish grin on his face, but his raw, husky timbre sends the familiar signals to your throbbing clit that has been yearning for his touch. You squeeze your thighs together, suppressing the arousal that throbs unrelentingly in your bundle of nerves.

“Hi.” You reciprocate shyly with a small smile, your soft voice a mellow to his ears. His eyes darken, narrowing slightly at your bottom lip being tucked in between your teeth, prompting him to stifle a groan while his cock beneath the slacks hardened at the harmless action. Shit, not now. He mentally scolds his own cock. But God, he so badly wants to kiss your lips.

Oblivious to his struggle, you feel the guilt tugging at your heartstrings as you know that he must’ve been asleep before this, considering the timezone he is currently at, whereas it is still early for you to call it a night.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You ask, your eyes turning crestfallen. You never want to be a clingy girlfriend, nor do you want to disappoint Heeseung in any way because you are aware of how much he appreciates you for being incredibly understanding of this aspect of his career, but this time, you couldn’t hold back any longer, needing him more than ever despite video calling him just yesterday.

Heeseung chuckles breathily as he runs his fingers through his hair, the sound being enough to make the butterflies swarm in your tummy. “Nah, you didn’t. I wasn’t even sleeping.” His attempt at reassuring you fails when he tries to stifle a yawn.

“You’re a bad liar.” You remark, eyeing him disapprovingly while the guilt is twisting painfully at your heartstrings. Maybe you shouldn’t have disturbed your boyfriend and allowed him to have some time of his own, considering he had to perform for the tour concert for two constructive days.

But little do you know that there is an entirely different reason why he looks a tad weary — he was jerking off to every deliciously sinful thought of the things he wanted to do to you before he took a nap — but you didn’t need to know that. Besides, despite being in a relationship for three years, the two of you have never once crossed the boundaries of being that level of sensual intimacy. Sure, he had sex with you every so often whenever he wasn’t needed at his line of work, but there has always been this unspoken boundary that the two of you never dared to cross for some reason. Maybe it has to do with you being incredibly shy when it comes to being more upfront about such salacious matters.

“Well, I couldn’t just ignore an incoming call from my gorgeous girl.” Heeseung casts you a smirk, knowing that you get all shy whenever he praises you, to which you always cover up with a rather cutieful scowl in his eyes. His features slowly soften as he seems to examine you, his eyes practically sparkling with a familiar adoration. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You automatically scrunch up your nose, feeling dubious over his ever-flattering compliment. “What are you talking about? I’m only wearing my comfy home clothes.” You say as you look down at your attire. You’re only sporting a hoodie, his hoodie specifically, and elastic waistband shorts that reach way above your thighs. 

“I’m not talking about your clothes, baby. It’s your face. God, if only I get to wake up to this view every day.” You swear you are about to combust from his excessive compliments, and it doesn’t help that he is looking at you as though you are his whole universe. “I mean it when I say you look really beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“You’re being weirdly cheesy, Hee.” You huff, feigning indifference as you try to tame the butterflies swarming in your tummy, and yet you know that your boyfriend loves to shower you with compliments and affections, but this time, something feels different in the way he gazes at you. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He drawls playfully while adjusting to a different position that looks like he is resting his back against the headboard of the bed, one hand placed at the back of his head. “Just looking at your beautiful face is enough to make me feel drunk, and that’s saying a lot about you. My gorgeous girl.”

The warmth in your cheeks travels down to your neck. “Stop it, Hee.” You shoot him another scowl, a pathetic attempt that fails to tame the flutters all over you. 

“Oh, so I can’t compliment my girlfriend now?” He scoffs, his eyebrow raising just slightly before a pout slowly forms on his very kissable lips.

“Don’t pout. It’s not a good look on you at your grown age.” You tease him, breaking the character from your collected facade. You always did like being the one to tease him on rare occasions since he’s the one who does most of the teasing in your relationship.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend insulted me just when I was about to tell her I missed her.” He complains exasperatedly, but you overlook his usual theatrics as his last three words strike a chord deep inside of you. He continues to pout, oblivious to your silence of melancholy. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

“You missed me?” You finally ask quietly after a couple beats of silence, your tone sounding as though you are in disbelief that your own boyfriend, the guy who completely adores you, missed you. But this time, it hits differently and deeper that renders you out of breath for a moment.

Any playful mischief or humour dissipates from his countenance while his features soften. “Of course, I did, and I still do.” He reaffirms softly with a small smile unfurling his lips.

“I’ve missed you too.” You tell him after having to swallow the familiar painful lump in your throat, and you hope that he doesn’t notice the palpable tremor in your voice. You clear your throat, now adjusting yourself to get more comfortable on the sofa and curl at the corner with both your knees pressing to your chest. “So, wanna tell me about your day?”

“Nothing much. The boys and I had takeaway dinner in Jungwon’s room after I ended the Weverse live—“ Heeseung continues while you listen attentively; at least you try to because it’s hard to process his words into your brain when all you can think about is how much you miss him. You hum every once in a while to acknowledge him, your eyes focusing on his animated face, but your vision eventually gets blurry with each blink while your throat feels painfully constricted with the bundle of emotions threatening to implode. 

“The practices before the actual concert were tough, and it sucks how I needed my girl more than ever, but I’m miles apart from her.” Heeseung speaks out his frustration before realising that he is getting too carried away, but in the relationship, he’s the one doing most of the talking, whereas you would listen to him and gives your input politely whenever appropriate. He notices how unusually quiet you have gone and the way tears are welling in your waterline, alarming him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mmhm.” You hum with your lips pressed thinly together, but there is a discernible crack in your voice. You muster a smile that feels painful, trying to maintain the facade you put up. “I’m glad that the tour went well in the end.”

“Sweetheart… you’re crying.” He points out gently, his eyes soften, and his lips downturn into a frown, watching as the teetering tears in your waterline finally cascade down your cheeks.

“I’m not.” You insist, using the end of your sleeves to wipe away the tears, a futile effort as they keep coming down like a waterfall. You hear him calling your name, but you are too absorbed by the whirlwind of emotions within you. An accidental sob leaves your lips as you still busily wipe the tears away. “I’m not crying.” You insist weakly, lacking the resolve to remain strong in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a hard time at work?” Heeseung asks, fussing like a mother hen as his concern for you amplifies. Throughout the years of your relationship, you rarely ever showed him the vulnerable side of you, so to witness you breaking down hits him in the gut. He can only watch you helplessly on his phone screen as you continue to cry, his heart clenching painfully at the sound of your heartbreaking cries and sobs.

“You gotta let me know what’s wrong, baby. It’s hurting my heart to see you like this. Tell me, please?” He pleads, his fingers on his phone tightening as he feels useless and helpless that he isn’t there by your side to comfort you right now. He decides to wait patiently for you to become coherent again while offering you sweet nothings in a gentle tone.

Finally, you manage to calm yourself down, albeit hiccuping every now and then from going nearly hysterical over your emotions. “Work was fine. Everything’s fine. I just—“ You sniffle as you look away from him, your chest tightening with a familiar emotion. When you muster the courage to look at him again, your eyes turn glossy. “I just missed you. I miss you so much, and I need you.” 

Heeseung can feel his own heart breaking at the way you look at him with raw yet intense yearning. “Sweetheart—”

“I know I shouldn’t be like this when I promised that I’d be your most supportive and understanding girlfriend, but it keeps getting harder to be apart from you.” You finally pour out your pent-up emotions, letting him know earnestly without filtering your words. A hiccup leaves your lips, and it takes every ounce of strength in him to hold back an endearing smile as he finds you quite adorable with your slightly puffy eyes and lips. “You know that I’m happy and proud that you’re thriving in your career, but I can’t lie to you anymore when I say it hurts that you’re not here with me. It hurts to be apart from you constantly.” You close your mouth, realising how absurd you are being before looking down, ashamed of how you are acting on your emotions. “I’m being dramatic, aren’t I? I’m sorry, Heeseung.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t ever apologise for speaking out your feelings.” He says sternly, his tone compelling you to look into his eyes, but all you see is how they soften with assurance and reserved affection for you. “We promised each other that we’d be more open and communicate, right?”

You nod your head feebly at his reminder. “It’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you by being a clingy girlfriend who needs you by her side every day, and it’d be unrealistic because you’re a K-pop idol.” You mumble, and tears prick in your eyes again as you feel fear-stricken by your worst nightmare. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“You could never disappoint me, baby. I don’t care if you want to be clingy with me or need my attention 24/7. You’re my girlfriend. I’d give you anything you want.” His words of assurance do little to allay the worst possible outcome that taunts you in your mind. “Besides, it’s going to take more than that for me to leave you, not that I would, ever.” 

But you remain avoidant with your head turned to the side as you hide your face in your arm, eliciting a soft yet patient sigh from him. “Look at me, baby. Let me take a look at your beautiful face, please.” He pleads softly, his tone mellow; you can’t help but be compelled. When your glossy eyes meet his, he gives you a warm smile, a smile that provides comfort over your distressed mind. “You’re okay, sweetheart. We’re okay. I’m not even mad or disappointed.”

This time, you believe him, his assurance putting your frazzled emotions at ease. Seeing how relaxed you are as you lean back against the sofa with your face devoid of any sign of distress, he feels at ease too, knowing that you are no longer in such an intense spiralling of your emotions. “You’re good now?” He asks for confirmation, his tone remaining a soft lull.

“Yeah.” You manage to utter quietly, no longer feeling dubious or embarrassed by the fact that you showed him your raw vulnerability, and instead, you feel closer to him in an unexplainable sense despite him being literally in another country at the moment.

Heeseung seems satisfied by your affirmation. “Let’s focus on you now, yeah? I wanna hear my girl talk about her day.” He says while there is an avid interest in his countenance, rendering you flattered.

You begin to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie subconsciously, hyperaware of his dark, mesmerising eyes being fixated on you in a way that feels intense. “I didn’t do much. Just resting and lazing around since today’s my day off from work.” You tell him, being careful with how you choose your words because he doesn’t need to know the exact truth.

A frown touches his lips. “You didn’t go out? Not even with your friends?” It’s weird because you would usually go out with your friends or do something productive on your off days, not saying that you're unproductive just staying at home. “You must’ve been bored staying at our home all day.”

“No, I wasn’t bored at all.” You counter, and yet you sound weak as the recollection of today plays on your mind while warmth weaves across your every vein. “I was busy with—” You immediately smack your lips shut, nearly revealing the truth to him.

Heeseung is intrigued, really intrigued, because he has never seen you being so meek like you are now. “Busy with?” His question is harmless, a genuine curiosity, but your mind resorts to producing such filth you want him to do with you — the kind of filth you have never done with him, nothing to the usual loving he always did with you.

“Doing stuff.” You mumble, your eyes purposely avoiding his confused ones, probably wondering what part of his question suddenly makes you avoidant, but this time, he can see that you’re flaring with diffidence.

“What kind of stuff?” Heeseung probes, and you know he will remain unrelenting unless you cave into his curiosity. The corner of your lips twitches up when he whines. “Come on. Tell me.”

“The kind of stuff that reminds me of you.” You utter each syllable slowly, but you decide to focus on his prominent Adam’s apple, which is one of your favourite parts of him, and fuck, you can imagine yourself rubbing your clit on it. 

For a moment, Heeseung doesn’t exactly comprehend your words, eliciting an annoyed huff from you, because there is no way your dirty-minded boyfriend does not understand the subtle implication. “Since I’ve been busy missing you too much, I played with the stuff that you bought for me.” You elaborate, your tone being carefully measured, and yet you can feel yourself weakening when a familiar suggestiveness shadows his once-softened features.

“Oh, yeah?” His voice a low rasp, igniting the heat flaring in your lower abdomen. The look in his eyes feels like a silent command as you find yourself slowly parting your legs as they hang over the edge of the sofa. “Did my baby have fun with it?”

You hum as you nod your head, his sultry voice making your clit throb. “Yes, but it wasn’t enough.” You say softly, but you can feel your breathing getting heavier.

“Of course, it wasn’t. It could never be compared to the real thing.” Heeseung smirks, his dark eyes scanning you intensely. He can see how needy you actually are behind this front of yours, and he knows that it won’t be too soon when you finally reveal to him. “My poor baby has been missing me too much — too much to the point that she’s craving my cock.”

You can physically feel your clit pulsating at his lewd words, and damn it, he’s right, because instantly, you drop all pretence, revealing what you have been keeping at bay. “Missed you so much, Hee.” You whimper, your cunt clenching at the smirk on his handsome face.

“I know, baby. You’re needy for me too, yeah?” He swallows down a groan, seeing the glossy look on your face. Maybe it’s because he’s feeling horny, but you look practically fuckable. This time, he doesn’t bother controlling his primal urges as his cock becomes a prominent bulge against his sweatpants.

You hum in an agreeing whine, the sound going straight into his cock. “Need you so badly, Seungie.” You mewl as you arch your back off the sofa while your hand travels down to your clothed cunt. “I need you and your cock to stuff me full.”

“Tell me more.” He demands, his jaw tightening with tension as he becomes intensely aroused by the sultry look on your face. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Things.” You nearly slur in the way you speak as your head spins at the palpable tension that you can feel even through the screen. You stroke your clothed cunt slowly, your fingers itching to remove your garment just to properly touch yourself. “Many things. The filthy kind.”

“You gotta be specific, sweetheart.” He chuckles lowly, his smirking countenance makes it seem like he’s degrading you, and fuck, you feel more turned on than you did before. It’s even better when throughout your sex life with him, he has never once degraded you in any way. “What sort of filth does my naughty girl want me to do to her?”

A needy whine escapes you, getting unbearably turned on as flashes of obscene scenarios appear in your mind while every inch of your skin feels hot. “Want your tongue on my pussy, lick and eat me out messily till I come, do it over and over again, and make me squirt.” You manage to utter such words without feeling any embarrassment, overshadowed by the pure need of your desire for the man beyond your reach. You let your head fall back to the sofa’s back, your eyelids weighing heavy with the lewd imagination playing in your head. “I want you to fuck me hard, fuck me with your cock till I break. Want you to use me as your cocksleeve every day. I need you to ruin me, Hee.”

“Fuck, baby.” Heeseung breathes out harshly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back at such lewd words leaving your once sweet-mouth. Never in his life has he ever heard you talking like that. His eyes flicker down at his very prominent bulge, feeling it painfully hard with incessant need before he directs his focus back on you through the screen. “You wanna be a good girl for me?”

The thought of pleasing him makes you eager, so you nod your head, eliciting a breathy chuckle from him at your enthusiasm. “I want you to grab the dildo I bought for you, and I want you to strip naked for me before you come back.” He instructs firmly, his dark eyes piercing into the screen as he stares at you, sending shivers through your heated body. “And position your phone where I can see every inch of you clearly, alright?”

You nod your head wordlessly in compliance and quickly toss your phone aside on the sofa before proceeding to rush for your room while the sound of your footsteps through the audio of his phone renders him amused at your obvious eagerness. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung decides to lower his sweatpants just enough for his cock to spring free, and damn, it looks angrier than it did just earlier. He is incredibly turned on that his cock remains hanging high, the ridges and veins protruding as a result of being neglected. He clenches his fist, restraining himself from touching his cock, not until you arrive. He closes his eyes as he leans his head back against the headboard, feeling quite surreal that this will be his first video call sex with you ever.

“Heeseung?” Your velvety voice prompts him to snap his eyes open before grabbing his phone at the side that he nearly fumbles with from the unbridled excitement. When he looks at his phone screen, he nearly drops it while his heart pumps harder at the lewd sight of your nudity fitting in the frame as you sit politely on the sofa with the pink dildo in your grasp.

Heeseung marvels at your nudity, his eyes hungrily feasting on every inch of your body, and he swears he can feel blood pumping in his cock as it hardens tighter than it did before. He smirks at the lingering diffidence in your countenance, being aware of his effect on you, even just by his mere gaze. He fucking loves it whenever you become shy all because of him.

“You look so damn beautiful, baby.” He is in complete awe, as though this is the first time you bare your nudity to him. Your clit throbs faintly as you observe the raw hunger in his eyes, his eyes roaming around your tits. You flush warmly at the sound of his low groan through the audio as he sees your perky nipples that look delicious enough to be devoured by his untamed mouth. “We’re going to do something new this time. Are you okay with it?”

“Yes.” You utter softly, earning you a small smile from him. You had placed your phone on the coffee table in front of you with your abandoned ceramic mug supporting your phone horizontally.

“I want you to put aside your dildo first.” He instructs, and you do so without tearing your gaze off his face. You can practically feel her fluttering in excitement as you observe his eyes trailing down to your closed legs. “Now show me your pretty pussy, baby.”

For a moment, you hesitate as it dawns on you that this is the first time you and your boyfriend will be engaged in this type of foreplay. But the encouragement he offers you with a soft, subtle head nod dispels any lingering doubts and embarrassment from you. You allow every muscle in your body to relax before slowly spreading your legs open, shoving down a needy whine in the back of your throat as the action causes your clit to throb incessantly.

You see the way his nose flares slightly just by the mere sight of your shaved mount, and with a daring spirit, you use your fingers to spread it open, revealing your already glistening folds to him. You feel grateful for how easily you can get wet just by the thought of your hot boyfriend.

“There she is. Fuck, she looks so soaked.” He groans as his cock visibly twitches at the explicit view of your pussy. He quickly recovers, wanting to give your needy pussy some attention as he leans his body slightly forward with interest. A grin smears across his lips, his eyes being solely fixated on your pussy. “Hi, princess. You’ve been missing me too much, haven’t you?”

“Heeseung.” Your humourless tone silently indicates your bafflement upon witnessing your boyfriend speaking and cooing to your pussy as though it is a person, and you can practically feel her preening under his overflowing affection. Yet, you can’t deny that there is something hot about this.

“Shhh. I’m still talking to her, baby.” Heeseung playfully admonishes you without meeting your gaze. He continues to entertain exposed pussy, adoration and lust blending in his eyes. “The dildo did not satisfy you enough, did it? You need my cock to keep you warm and full, nice and deep inside of you that you won’t even wanna let go of me.”

You can’t help but instinctively clench at his words. “Look at you, princess. I can see you clenching. It’s too bad that you are not stuffed with my cock right now.” He remarks in amazement, and yet the mockery belies his adoration is not lost on you as you find it undeniably hot. “You love it when I talk to you like this, hmm? Should I talk to my pretty princess like this once I get back?”

“Hee, please.” You plead, having had enough of his teasing, and you must be insane to even feel bits of jealousy that his attention is on your pussy instead of you, as though your pussy is not a part of you.

Heeseung chuckles softly as he is very much amused by your pouty attitude before deciding to cease his teasing, albeit he was very much serious when he was talking to your pussy. “Touch your clit for me, baby.” He finally directs his words to you, and you comply, the padding of your index and middle fingers now touching your clit that throbs under your own touch. “Now rub it nice and slow. That’s it.”

Your fingers continue to rub your button in a circular motion, nice and slow, just as he said. It does not take you a minute when you begin to feel the familiar sensation in your aroused little button as you continue to stimulate it.

Heeseung observes your reaction carefully, drinking in the pleasure that faintly contorts in your mesmerising features. His own hand goes straight to his neglected cock, hissing lowly as he uses the padding of his thumb to stroke the red slit in a repeated up-and-down motion, imagining how good it would feel if he were there with you to use the tip of his cock to rub your clit instead. 

“Does it feel good?” He asks in a slightly strained voice, already feeling sensitive under his own touch, his thumb continuously rubbing the slit in slow yet hard strokes, delaying the peak of his pleasure to arrive as he wants to see you come undone first.

You hum in response, still maintaining your composure as you are focused on rubbing your clit, but when you flicker your gaze to him, you bite down your lip upon seeing how he is evidently caught in a lustful haze, no doubt that he is touching himself. “But your fingers would feel better on it.” You whine softly.

Your words feed into his ego. “Of course, they would. I can easily make you cum just by rubbing your clit with my fingers, because your clit is so sensitive.” He says smugly with a smirk curling at his lips. “It’s actually so fucking adorable. Wonder how you’ll be once I get my tongue to touch your swollen little button instead.” 

“Fuck, Hee.” You moan softly as you arch to your own touch, your imagination going vividly wild — his tongue caressing and licking your clit relentlessly with such precision. 

“Look at you. Already falling apart.” He finds great delight in teasing you just by his lewd words that affect you more than he expected. “You wanna know what I would do just to your cute clit alone?”

“Tell me, please.” You keen, your fingers now rubbing your clit in fast motion, causing your back to arch off the sofa while you spread your legs even more, disregarding the limit to your flexibility. 

“I would rub it with my thumb, giving it a little tease before I go licking it, swirling my tongue slowly around your swollen clit—” He becomes distracted by the pleasurable sensation as he rubs the slit that is now glistening with his arousal. He recovers with a grunt, refocusing on you, and fuck, you look sinfully divine with your body arching to your touch while your tits are pushed out. “And then, I would suck it like how I suck your nipples, and maybe I’d smack your pussy before making you cum hard, repeating the same actions and overstimulating you just to listen to your cute whines till you cry.”

You’re imagining the delicious description of what he would do to you hard, and your building pleasure intensifies as your fingers stimulate your clit at full tilt. You control the moans spilling from your lips as you look at your phone screen. “I wanna see your cock.” You tell him in a demand, earning an eyebrow raised from him.

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” He asks in a playful drawl, his lips curving into a lazy grin as he enjoys how the expression on your face is bordering on such desperation.

“Please let me see your cock, daddy.” The syllable leaves your lips wantonly as you whine, and it feels absurdly natural to utter such a forbidden endearment to refer to your lover as. You catch a glimpse of a fleeting surprise in his face amidst your desperate, lustful haze before it is replaced by something so primal. “I missed your cock so much.”

“Yeah? You missed daddy’s cock?” Heeseung sounds more than on board with it, practically into it as he gazes at you hungrily while his voice sounds rough at the edges. You whimper out a ‘yes’ with glossy eyes, and that’s all it takes for him to cave into your request as he tilts his phone to the angle where you are greeted by his seven inches. “Look, baby. You got daddy so hard — it’s angry that it’s not inside of my pretty baby’s pussy or mouth right now.”

“S’unfair!” A sob leaves your lips while you pour your pent-up frustration into your fingers as they rub your swollen clit vigorously. “I’m so needy for you, daddy!” Your unabashed moans echo off the walls of your shared apartment with Heeseung, finally letting go of the last thread of your inhibition.

“I know, baby. It’s unfair that I’m not there to give you what you want right now, but daddy will make it up to you soon.” He coos, his features softening with the familiar affection before something dark shadows them, causing his eyes to darken dangerously. “Daddy will stuff you nice and full with his cock soon. I promise you.”

His firm promise is enough to quell the bitterness at the current circumstances that burns indignantly in your heart. You move your hips slightly in tandem to your vigorous fingers, feeling the imminent release that is teetering at the edge while your clit painfully throbs that serves as a warning. “Hee! I feel—"

Heeseung bites back a growl, feeling practically ravenous at the delicious sight of you losing yourself to your own touch as your mouth is partly open, silently moaning with your eyes rolling to the back. “Come for me.” On his command, you let go, your pussy fluttering with the mess of your release as you can feel it sliding down on your skin to your butt.

Heeseung hums lazily, watching you intently as you slump against the sofa while he continues to manipulate his now-wet slit in measured strokes. “Tired already, sweetheart?” He asks mockingly.

Something inside you gets triggered by his mocking, and you refuse to back down from the challenge that he benignly imposes on you. You shoot him a brief glare, defiance burning in your irises that has him smirking. “No.” 

“Good, because we’re not done yet.” His dark chuckles intensify the burning need in you. He looks down at your slick cunt, his tongue darting out to slide across his bottom lip. “Finger yourself. Need you to be prepped because I want to see you fucking yourself with that dildo.”

Your fingers feel like they have muscles of their own as they instinctively heed his command, now travelling down to your weeping cunt. Using your middle and ring fingers, you slowly insert them into your hole, cringing at the unfamiliarity of fingering yourself since you are used to Heeseung doing it for you with his long, slender fingers.

Still, you want to appease him, your fingers thrusting in and out steadily, but it just doesn’t feel right. “I missed your fingers in me.” You whine, your lips forming into a pout that you hope he would get the hint that you’re not into this despite the slick of arousal accumulating as it trickles down on your skin.

“Keep going, baby.” He orders sternly, eliciting more whines of protest from you, but he easily tames you with his dark, penetrating eyes, rendering you completely compliant. It baffles you how he looks collected as you can clearly see that he is rubbing the red tip of his cock. “Use your other fingers and spread your pretty pussy. I wanna see it.”

You hold back a whimper before obeying his command, your other fingers aiding your currently occupied fingers by using your index and middle fingers to finally spread your wet folds open, now giving him the raw obscenity of your fingers plunging into your sopping cunt.

“You’re so soaked, princess.” He comments, his voice a low husk that has your pussy fluttering again. Fuck, he’s so damn attractive in everything he does. “Close your eyes. Imagine that’s my fingers fucking you.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head to the back, your brows pulling together into a soft knit as you try to imagine his fingers fucking you instead of yours, and it’s working as you feel your hips moving in tandem with your fingers.

Heeseung nearly chokes on his saliva, completely mesmerised by the raw sensuality of you as you evidently lose yourself to your own touch. He desperately wants to engrave this moment on his mind, even better if he could record you and save it to his gallery. He stops rubbing his slit, only to begin pumping his cock.

“Look at you. Fucking yourself so desperately, but it isn’t enough, is it?” He sneers, feeling turned on that you seem to like when his words are bordering on mean as you moan in response. “You need daddy’s long fingers deep inside and curl them, fucking you fast and hard till you squirt.”

You fuck yourself harder with your fingers, trying to attain that familiar pleasurable sensation the way you did earlier, but it isn’t enough. “Please! I want your fingers so bad.” You sob out, your eyes seeking him as they plead desperately while the movement of your fingers nearly falters. “I can’t do it. I can’t make myself cum with my fingers alone, daddy.”

Heeseung can’t help but break character just slightly, his concern and affection for you slipping between the cracks. He even loses momentum in pumping his cock that remains hard for you. “But baby, you aren’t properly stretched.” His tone holds the familiar protectiveness.

“I can take it, daddy.” You reassure him after a needy sob leaves you. You look at him with doe-pleading eyes that you know he can’t resist. “Please?”

“Fine. Then take it like a good girl, yeah?” He smirks, resuming to pump his cock at an intensity that has the tip swollen and redder. “Grab that dildo and fuck yourself with it. Don’t forget to keep your legs spread open. Daddy wants to see your pretty pussy taking it.”

You quickly remove your fingers from your hole, eagerly grabbing the pink dildo despite the stickiness of your arousal on your fingers. You position the head of the dildo and align it to your hole before slowly pushing it inside, inch by inch. A gasp leaves your lips at the inevitable stretch of your walls, prompting you to halt halfway.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take it?” His mockery reignites the flame of defiance within you, but his dark eyes feel gradually intimidating, which renders you submissively whiny as you spread your legs further with your back arched. “Come on, baby. You fucked yourself with it earlier, so you can definitely make it fit. How is your cunt going to fit daddy’s cock?”

“I can.” You whimper, tears prickling in your eyes before you muster the courage to continue pushing the dildo into your cunt. The unrelenting stretch elicits more gasps from you, your breathing ragged. “I just need a minute.”

Heeseung is caught in a lustful haze as he zeros in on how your hole takes the dildo, imagining hard at the sensation of your velvety walls being stretched by his girth and eventually enveloping him. With a grunt, he begins to pump himself harder, wanting to test the limit of his endurance in prolonging his orgasm.

Finally, every inch of the dildo is now snuggled in your hole. “There we go. Good girl.” He purrs in satisfaction, making you preen. His dark eyes are heavily fixated on the dildo being stuffed in your dripping cunt. “Now fuck yourself with it. Thrust it into your needy cunt however you want.”

You let out a silent whimper as you begin to pull the dildo, only to push it back in, your walls having to be stretched by the girth, but you know that this is nothing compared to his real cock. You allow your head to rest on the sofa’s back, your chest heaving up and down as you imagine the ridges and veins of his cock grazing against your walls while he fucks you in slow, deep strokes. You moan softly as you increase the tempo of your hand manipulating the dildo into your dripping cunt.

You glance down at your phone screen, only to moan out at the pleasure contorting in his face as he fists his cock with his hand. “I watched some of your concert clips earlier.” You tell him breathlessly as he looks at you with an attractive eyebrow raised. “And you got me so wet, daddy.” You moan again, now reaching for your tits with your other hand, palming and fiddling with your nipples, which intensifies the building pleasure.

“Oh, yeah? Naughty girl.” He teases you, his eyes watching you playing with your tits that he had been dreaming of latching his lips to your suckable nipples. He pumps his angry cock harder, his mind running wild at the scenario — sucking your tits while he fucks you hard with his hips bruisingly snapping into yours. “Which ones are your favourites?” 

“Um—“ Your voice shakes at the instability of having to focus on his question, but the dildo that is fucking into your cunt right now feels good. “Teeth and Future Perfect performances.” You answer in a breathy moan, recalling how you felt when you were watching those clips of him.

You thrust the dildo faster and harder; the squelching sound of your wet cunt reaches your ears while he clenches his jaw at how wet you really are, pissed off that it’s not even his cock that is making you that wet.

“You looked so hot when you were performing those songs, the way you looked angry.” You tell him keenly, practically purring as you recall the intensity in his dark eyes that looked primal when he was performing and how he looked pissed off, making you wetter as you imagine the stuff you want him to do to you. “You should’ve felt how wet I was while I was watching those clips. Got me imagining how you’d fuck me angrily.”

Despite your sultry admission going straight into his hard cock, his eyebrows furrow with a tinge of concern plastered on his face, but he never relents from pumping his cock. “Baby, you know I would never fuck my anger into you.” The reserved softness in his tone elicits a whine of protest from you, needing him to be mean to you instead.

“But it’ll be so hot!” You moan out as you arch your back off the sofa before moving your hips sensually to meet the thrust of your dildo deeper. “I want you to fuck me mean till I’m a sobbing mess. You know you’d want that, daddy.” You purr, your sultry eyes gazing at him with a challenge while his cock twitches angrily at the thought. Fuck yeah, he’d want that. 

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, faltering in his momentum as his head spins at the scenario of him fucking you ruthlessly till you beg for him to stop, till you cry and sob as he overstimulates you with his cock all night. “Yeah? You want daddy to be mean?” He nearly growls out his words while your cunt clenches around the dildo at the sound.

“Want it so much.” You whine needily as you palm your tits harder, getting crazily turned on as you watch him throw his head to the back with his Adam's apple bobbing up and down attractively while sweats trickle down his neck. “Want you to cuff my wrists and choke me while you fuck me hard. Want you to do mean things to me so badly.”

Your needy yet genuine admission has him reeling in the head. He feels like an animal, growling at the salacious thought of you being restrained to the bed while you take everything he gives to you like a good little fucktoy — nothing like the usual lovemaking. He groans huskily at the image of you in tears as you pathetically plead with him to stop despite your sopping cunt meeting his thrusts.

“I’ll do more than that.” He rasps, his tone darkening with promises that cause your clit to throb and your nipples to perk. When you meet his eyes, you whimper at the intensity that reminds you of those concert clips of him. “I promise you, baby, I’ll give you what you want once I come back.” A cruel smirk touches his lips, shocking you at the dark sensuality he emits. “You want me to be fucking mean while I fuck you senselessly? I’ll do just that. I’ll make you scream and cry while you take everything I give to your needy pussy. You’ll get mean Heeseung, alright.”

“Fuck, daddy!” You moan loudly, getting unbearably turned on by his dark promises as you thrust the dildo harder, hurtling yourself to the edge of ecstasy. You abandon your tits, only to stimulate your clit in fast, circular motion.

“We’ll go all night, never stopping till your needy pussy is leaking with my cum, till your pussy can’t fit any more of my cum, but I’ll make you swallow them.” He lets out a guttural moan as he pumps his cock furiously, his eyes rolling to the back at the height of his pleasure. “I’ll fuck you for days, keeping you satisfied and full till you can’t walk. I’ll fucking do it, because it’s daddy’s job to spoil his princess.”

“Yes, daddy! Want you to spoil his princess!” You’re not sure if you’re referring to yourself or your pussy, but you are deprived of coherency as you get lost in the dual sensation of your cunt and your clit being manipulated by your own hands. “I’m feeling close, Hee!”

“Don’t you dare come before me.” He warns in a growl, sending pleasurable shivers through you. You obey him, whining and moaning as you try your best to stave off your orgasm that is teetering, yet you are rubbing your clit skilfully fast. “Yeah, baby. Keep rubbing your clit for me like that. Cock feels good, hm?”

You hum in response with tears pricking in your eyes. “But not better than daddy’s cock.” You sob out pathetically, and that has him cooing at you with mockery. “Need daddy’s cock to satisfy my needy pussy.” But in the haze of lust, the familiar sentiments manage to grip you tight as your glossy eyes meet his. “I missed you so much, Hee.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He softens up just slightly, seeing the familiar yearning in your pretty eyes. He clenches his jaw, pouring his pent-up emotions he hasn't conveyed to you just yet into pumping his cock while effectively stroking his thumb on his wet slit. “I’m never letting you go, ever. We’ll fuck every day once I get back, and I’ll breed you till you get pregnant with our kids. Daddy will take such good care of you.”

“Yes, yes! Breed me, daddy!” You keenly moan, your hips stuttering as you imagine he pumps his load into you to the brim, breeding you. 

“I’m gonna buy you a ring, and I’m gonna marry you, tying you to me forever.” He pours out what his heart has been yearning for. Despite the lust fogging his head, he looks at you with an intense yearning from the love he harbours for you, desperation contorting in his features fleetingly. “I’ll make you my wife.”

“Nngh! Hee!” You can feel it coming, your teetering orgasm on the brink of being released against your weakened will while the coil in your tummy threatens to snap at any moment. You fuck the dildo into you even faster, sobbing out. “I can’t hold back! I need to come, please!”

“Daddy will make you beg more too. You sound so fucking pretty when you do.” He groans, and with one last pump, his cock spurts out the white, sticky essence that now soaks his sweatpants. He breathes out harshly at the intensity of his own release before looking back at you, only to smirk at how obedient you are, waiting for his command with tears staining your cheeks, such desperation. “Alright, sweetheart, you can let go anytime for me.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your moan tangles with your sob, and at once, your orgasm comes crashing down on you violently, leaving your legs trembling while you arch your back, your mouth parting with a silent moan as your cunt gushes out with your sticky release.

“That’s my perfect girl, making a mess all over.” He remarks with an unmistakable affection as he watches you with primal hunger, enjoying how ruined you look just from fucking yourself, but not nearly as ruined as he will make you once he returns.

Your heart flutters at his praise while you remain slumped against the sofa, allowing your limbs to rest as the exertion begins to dawn in every part of your muscles. Eventually, you force yourself to remove the dildo from your cunt slowly, whimpering as you do so as it grazes down against your walls. You eye the dildo that is covered by your sticky release before tossing it aside. You can feel how soaked the cushion is beneath you due to your release, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You take a moment to recover while the sound of your boyfriend’s ragged breathing can be heard through the audio. The silence is familiarly comfortable, neither of you uttering a word to each other as you bask in the afterglow of your session. But some of the words he spoke to you in the midst of your lustful haze resonate deep in you. Your heart begins to pound harder while butterflies return in their wake.

“You okay, baby?” He asks softly, now being the sweet and gentle boyfriend that you’re in love with. He is still wiping off the excess of his release with tissues off his now-limp cock, but he grimaces at the apparent stain on his grey sweatpants.

“I’m okay.” You tell him reassuringly, your voice coming out small from the excessive whines and moans that bring your face to flush warmly at how wanton you were earlier. You lean forward, grimacing at the aches in your legs and the stickiness in between your thighs before grabbing your phone. Your eyes soften as he gazes at you. “Heeseung, did you mean what you said?” 

You refer to every word he spoke to you, needing assurance and affirmation from him; otherwise, you’d be overthinking at night. “I meant every word, sweetheart.” He says firmly, his tone lacing with promises.

You bite your inner cheek, feeling nervous about what you are about to ask. “Even about making me your wife?” You ask quietly, your eyes scanning his unreadable expression carefully. 

“Especially that.” His declaration sends a wave of emotions to you as your breath goes hitched in your throat. The raw vulnerability and yearning in his eyes are palpable, as though they are the reflection of your own sentiment. “I really feel the same way too, you know?”

Somehow, you have a strong inkling that he is referring to him missing you. You exhale softly before a small yet weak smile touches your lips. “I know, Hee—“

“No, baby, you don’t understand because I’ve been missing you too much, more than you missed me.” He cuts you off, taking you by complete surprise at the sheer desperation and pain that contorts in his handsome features, because you have never seen him being like this — as though the distance is killing him agonisingly on the inside too. “You’re on my mind constantly, even when I was practicing, and all I could think about is going home to you as soon as possible. I needed you, I still do.”

You try to find your voice, wanting to speak out, anything to ease your lover’s pain, but he continues to pour out the pent-up emotions he had been grappling with. “I hate to say it, but it got me thinking if my being an idol is even worth it if it means that I’d have to leave you again and again for tours.”

This time, something inside of you snaps. “Don’t say that, Hee. I never want it to reach a point where you find yourself in a position of choosing between me or your idol job.” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but you can’t allow it to happen, even if it means that you might lose him to his job. Your voice trembles as you speak again, tears welling in your waterline. “You love being an idol, you love your teammates, you love performing in front of your fans, and you must be crazy to think that I’d even allow you to choose me—“

“But I love you more.” Heeseung declares with vehemence while the devastation painting his handsome face tears a sob out of you. “Yes, I love being an idol, but it could never be compared to the weight of my love for you.”

“Heeseung.” You utter his name weakly as tears cascade down your cheeks freely. His declaration of love is all it takes for you to break down.

He watches you helplessly as you attempt to wipe your tears away. “God, I hate it when I’m not there to wipe your tears for you.” He whispers, his heart clenching painfully when your glossy eyes meet him.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, hating how you are being overly sensitive and getting too carried away with your emotions. 

“No more apologies from you, baby, because I’m the one who should be apologising to you.” He says softly, yet firmly enough for you to grasp his sincerity.

“But you didn’t do anything wrong.” You counter weakly, sniffling. “You’re simply doing your job, and I’m just being a dramatic girlfriend.”

“I did you wrong by leaving your side when you needed me the most.” He says with a rueful smile. “You can expect a lot of apologies from me once I come back home, and a ring too.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, earning you a chuckle from him. “What? You thought I was joking about buying you a ring?” He adorns a boyish grin that you so badly want to kiss him. “I did say that I’d be making you my wife. I’m a man of my words, sweetheart.”

“But it’s still early for us to get married!” You protest despite your heart thumping in agreement to his words. A frown tugs at your lips, determined to make him change his mind as you don’t want him to regret it. “I won’t allow marriage to get in the way of your job. Would your fans even accept the idea of us getting married?”

“Baby, you’re my future and my happiness. If the company wants to kick me out simply for marrying you, then so be it. I can always take over my dad’s business as a source of income. As for my fans, well, they’ll be happy for me — I’m sure they will, at least the real ones will.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth it for you to go through such lengths, Hee.” Your lips quiver, feeling dejected. “I don’t want you to throw away your years of hard work because of me. You went through so much just to get where you are now.”

“You are worth it, worth more than you think.” He says reassuringly, his tone sounding firm with conviction, but it does nothing to alleviate the thoughts he can see swirling in your head, eliciting a soft sigh from him. “If you’re still worried about my consideration in quitting my idol job, then I’ll figure things out and find ways so that I won’t have to leave your side again.”

“Promise me that you won’t quit.” You plead, your voice breaking as you feel immensely conflicted, because you can never deny a part of you that yearns for him to choose you. “I don’t want you to have any regrets if you had chosen that path.”

“Baby, I won’t have any regrets when it comes to you—”

“Just promise me, Heeseung.” You implore as your eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Promise me that you won’t quit because of me.” because of love.

Heeseung doesn’t respond as he examines your teary countenance, noticing how desperate you are and knowing that you won’t back down, even if he can feel your heart breaking. He resigns with a sigh. “I promise.” He hopes that he sounds convincing enough, because you are crazy to think that he would never choose you, but only for now, the idea of marriage is pushed to the back of his mind. 

You feel at ease despite your heartache, but you know that this is for the best for him. You sniffle again, earning an adoring grin from him. You avoid his eyes, a sudden diffidence cloaking you while your cheeks flush warmly. “Besides, how else will I be able to watch you perform on stage? I love watching you perform.”

“I know, baby, because I turn you on whenever I perform.” His mischief returns to his demeanour, a smirk unfurling on his lips while desire burns in his gaze. “What did you tell me earlier? Something about how I looked hot while I was performing Future Perfect and Teeth?”

You smile shyly as you nod your head, and God, he feels like he’s in love with you over and over again. “Mmhmm. You looked like you were angry, but I loved it. It got me all hot and bothered.” You tell him bluntly, oblivious to your words that rouse him.

“Fuck, baby, we should stop now.” He groans, repressing the arousal from reaching his cock. “I don’t think I could handle another round.”

“Right, you need sleep.” You say, pouting as you realise that he is supposed to be asleep right now.

“Don’t pout, sweetheart. I’ll be back before you know it.” He says reassuringly before his lips curve into a smirk again. “I hope you won’t forget what I promised you earlier, because we’re not done yet.”

“Hurry back, then.” You adorn a sultry smile on your lips, and the sensuality of you elicits a breathy cuss from him. “I expect you to ruin me once you return home, daddy.”

“Don’t worry, princess. You’ll get what you asked for. You’re gonna get it.”

You have never felt as anticipated as you are now, but the reality of him returning to you is in two long days. You let out a silent huff before eyeing your pink dildo. Guess that’ll work and keep you company for the next two days.

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[kashverse]

imagine the horror on sukunas face when his daughter starts saying the slangs he uses 😭

it was bound to happen. sukuna’s vocabulary was always going to come back to bite him in the ass. you just didn’t think it would be your sweet, precious angel who would be the one to scream—

"FUCK!"

—in the unusually quiet sukuna household.

you froze. sukuna froze. the houseplants probably froze. there was a pin-drop silence as you slowly turned to look at your sweet baby girl, standing in the middle of the living room with her tiny fists clenched, an identical scowl to her father’s on her face.

"…baby," you said carefully, "what did you just say?"

"FUCK!" she repeated, as if testing out the weight of the word, her face scrunching in concentration. you gasped. 

"sukuna."

"why the fuck are you looking at me?" sukuna hissed, then immediately winced. "shit—fuck—damn it!"

"papa said a bad word!" babykuna pointed, looking gleeful.

"you just said it first!" sukuna yelled, looking personally betrayed. you rubbed your temples, already feeling a headache coming on. “where did you even learn that word?” 

your baby girl blinked at you. "from papa."

you turned your head so slowly towards your husband that you swore you heard your neck crack.

"of course she did."

sukuna was silent.

"baby," you knelt down in front of your daughter, taking her tiny hands in yours. "we don’t say that word, okay?"

her little face fell, eyes glistening with tears as she realized you weren’t pleased. "did i…" she sniffled, voice wobbling, "did i dis’point mama?"

oh. oh no. you felt actual heartbreak rip through your chest as you scooped her up, hugging her tight. "no, no, no, baby, you could never disappoint me—"

but before you could fully reassure her, she burst into tears, wailing, "i don’t wanna make mama sad—!"

"shit," sukuna muttered, running a hand down his face. "now look what you did."

"what i did?!" you shot back, eyes blazing. "you're the reason she knows that word in the first place!"

"it's a normal word!" sukuna argued, throwing his arms up. "people say it everyday!"

"SHE'S FIVE!"

as you continued to yell, sukuna slowly retreating into the corner of the room, crouching down, his arms wrapped around his knees. he was silent. too silent. you paused mid-rant, suddenly aware of the existential crisis happening behind you.

"…sukuna?"

he didn’t respond. just stared into the abyss, eyes vacant. "i failed as a parent," he muttered to himself, voice hollow. "my baby girl… my princess… she swore before she even learned to spell properly. i—i’ve corrupted her—"

you blinked. "sukuna, what the hell—"

"don't cuss in front of her!" he snapped, looking devastated.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"

"mama said a bad word!" babykuna gasped.

"oh my god." you wanted to scream.

[rafesangelita]

♡ babydaddy!rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader go to her first prenatal appointment

warnings: super sweet fluff, pregnancy, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms, reader is emotional (she can’t help it, okay?!!), crying, reassurance, comfort, some brief medical terminology

a/n: creating an official au introduction for this little universe of mine <3 just a reminder that pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this pairing unless stated otherwise in the author’s note!

wc: 1.9k

“ray, i can’t hold it!” you shrieked, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks, “you’re going to make me pee, i’m not kidding!” rafe was currently tickling your sides, your once hysterical laughter soon turning into breathless pants as he continued ignoring your pleas for him to stop. “aw, come on..” it wasn’t until the smile dropped from your face that he took the hint and got off of you, quickly helping you up to your feet so you could run to the bathroom.

you found yourself doing that a lot more now, your ability to ‘hold it in’ was long gone by this point. that, along with crying over the smallest things like rafe rubbing your tummy despite you not really showing yet, his attentiveness and care never failing to make you sob in his arms. thankfully, your morning sickness wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. now that you were approximately eight weeks, sailing was becoming more smooth, both you and rafe finally catching a small break from the wrath of your raging hormones.

you never got angry in the first few weeks, but annoyed and irritated? definitely. a few times you had to flash rafe a warning smile before he could take the hint that you didn’t want any of the food he was trying to feed you— the smell of certain meats making you feel queasy. “do you want me to projectile vomit into your lap?” you’d ask sweetly, your eyes slightly wide as rafe frantically shook his head before taking the forkful of steak away from your lips.

he’d been a good sport about absolutely everything. even now as he helped you out of his truck, rafe was quick to sling your purse over his shoulder, his hands staying glued to your hips until your pretty pedicured feet softly landed on the ground. you wasted no time in scheduling your doctor’s appointment the same fated day you and rafe looked down at that positive pregnancy test. you couldn’t believe a whole month had already flown by that quick.

“i’m a little nervous..” your whispered, taking rafe’s arm with your own, the height difference easily making you feel comforted as he held your hand. “ah, don’t be, i read that they’re just gonna run a few tests and ask you some questions, that’s all, sweetheart.” oh, you could cry right now. scratch that, you were crying right now. “you looked up how my first appointment would go?” rafe’s head shot down as soon as he heard your crying voice, both of you stopping just right outside of the doctor’s office.

“hey..” he turned, cupping your cheeks, “baby, i didn’t mean to make you sad.” he stroked the side of your face, thumbing away any stray tears that managed to roll down your cheeks. “no, you didn’t make me sad, it’s just— you’ve been so good to me, even before all of this, i just feel so lucky to have you. you’re so sweet, and you’re so helpful, and you even put up with me when i have an attitude sometimes, and—” rafe stopped your rambling when another couple came walking up to the entrance.

flashing awkward smiles at each other, rafe scooted you over before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “what did i tell you when you were panicking, flipping through that calendar book of yours?” you laughed at the memory. you were so scared that day. “you said you were going to take care of us.. of me.” rafe nodded, lifting your chin so you could look up at him. “i meant that, y/n. there’s nothing to be scared of, alright? everything that i’m doing for you isn’t even the tip of the iceberg for what you deserve, you understand that?” you blinked, wrapping your arms around his waist as you two stood there in silence for a few moments.

rafe held you until you were ready to go inside, your boyfriend holding the door open for you as you were hit with chilly air and the smell of antiseptic. “i’ll get the sign-in sheet, just go ahead and sit down, baby.” you listened, clasping your hands together in your lap as you took a look around the other women in the waiting room. everyone seemed so calm, like there really wasn’t anything to worry about. you figured you’d just been overthinking on your way over here, worrying yourself to death for no reason.

rafe came back with a clipboard, quickly filling out your information and handing it over to you when there was a section he didn’t know the information to. “hey, how about we get something to eat after this? we could get those subs you like down at the sandwich shop.” it was as if rafe read your mind, a small smile forming on your lips before you pecked his cheek. “with those spicy kettle cooked chips?” rafe hummed, taking the clipboard back from your hands. “yeah, whatever you want.”

you two waited for your name to be called out for no longer than fifteen minutes, your heart dropping to your stomach once a woman in pink scrubs smiled at you brightly. rafe could tell by the slight shake of your hands that you were back at square one. “look, everything is alright, let’s go check on this little one, yeah?” you swallowed nervously, allowing rafe to guide you inside the double doors, his large palm resting in the small of your back as you two followed the nurse to your room. the walls were painted with all kinds of animals, the woman who was going to do your ultrasound welcoming both of you in.

“hello! how are we feeling today?” she helped you up on top of the chair. “i’m on edge a little bit..” you told her truthfully, your eyes finding the probe for your ultrasound. “aw, that’s completely normal, i promise you you’re in great hands. is this dad?” she glanced over at rafe, the poor man turning red at the name. "yes, that's me.. dad.." the nurse laughed, grabbing a hospital gown from one of the cabinets. "still really new, huh? is this your first?" both you and rafe nodded. "oh, how exciting!" she squealed.

"are you aware of what we're going to do for this first visit?" rafe grabbed the chair from the corner of the room, moving it up to where he could sit next to you. "not really." you shook your head, letting rafe's hand envelope your own. "so even though the pregnancy tests you've taken are positive, we're still going to draw blood and run a few tests just to be sure," she started, "i'm going to be asking you a few medical history questions, checking your vitals to make sure everything with you is okay, and we should also be finding out your due date today!"

you took everything in, your tummy fluttering in excitement at the prospect of getting to find out when you were having your baby. "does that sound okay?" she began typing something on her computer as you hummed. "alrighty, first and foremost; when was the date of your last missed menstrual cycle?" you wracked your brain for an answer, trying your best to remember what your calendar book said. "uhm.. i don't know the exact day but i wanna say it's been five weeks since i found out i was pregnant, and before that i was late three weeks." she typed quickly as you spoke.

the questions continued as she took your vitals, along with recording your height and weight. “are you taking any prenatal vitamins?” you were about to say yes before rafe blurted out. “she’s taking the best ones on the market.” he smiled, both you and the nurse laughing as he took the bottle out of your purse. “yeah, those work wonders,” she agreed, “remember a healthy diet is also key to keep both you and the baby healthy. plenty of water, too.” rafe made a mental note to start bringing your stanley everywhere.

the nurse took your blood, instructing you to change into the hospital gown before she left with the viles to take them for testing. “i think she’s gonna put that thing inside of me.” you pointed at the probe on the side of the ultrasound machine, a shiver running down your spine as you sat back down on the chair. rafe couldn’t help but snap some pictures of you, his smile reaching ear to ear as you posed for him. “i hope she doesn’t take long, i’m hungry.” you pouted. just then, the nurse came back in with a some papers in her arms.

“so just as we expected already, your bloodwork came back positive, and everything else looks really good. all we have to do now is your pelvic exam and your ultrasound to get that due date!” you settled into your chair, stirring uncomfortably as she placed your feet onto the stirrups. rafe was watching everything intently, making sure you weren’t in pain or anything as she began your exam. thankfully, she was making small talk with both you and rafe, asking you two questions as well as giving you advice since you were first time parents.

“y’all are going to be just perfect, i promise you that. loving parents create happy households, and by the looks of you two, your home will be overflowing with happiness and love.” she smiled, finishing up your appointment with a satisfied hum. “everything looks good! although your blood pressure is a little bit up, that comes from the nerves you felt earlier, so we definitely want to be more careful with that, but everything else, baby included, looks healthy.” you sighed in relief, your shoulders relaxing as rafe nodded in understanding.

“when will we be able to actually see an ultrasound?” you asked, kind of sad that you didn’t get to see the little bean today. the nurse took her gloves off before checking something off on her clipboard. “i was actually hoping you’d be able to come in two weeks from now? we should be able to see the contraction of a heartbeat since you’ll be ten weeks by then.” you gasped softly. “oh, i would love that!” you nodded frantically, looking up at rafe just to confirm. “yeah, that sounds amazing.” he smiled, stroking your arm before the nurse adjusted the glasses on her nose.

you couldn’t help but feel antsy because of how excited you were, everything hitting you all at once. you were really going to have a baby. with rafe especially, you couldn’t imagine anyone else in his position. “well, i’m going to go set that up then and print out your overview for the appointment. you could go ahead and change back into your clothes and once your done the receptionist will have your paperwork to take home.” you and rafe thanked her and bid her goodbye before she stepped out.

you took everything in once it was just you and rafe, both of you sitting in silence as you gathered your thoughts. now that all you wanted to do was see that sonogram, you knew these next couple of weeks were going to get here agonizingly slow. “let’s get your clothes on.” you let rafe dress you back up, the two of you making your way up front and getting the papers. you were jumping excitedly on your way out once you saw the due date, rafe taking his camera out and getting what felt like the hundredth photo of you today.

“i can’t wait to find out the gender, we’re going to have the cutest nursery!” you squealed excitedly nearly tripping over your feet before rafe rushed over and got you in the truck. “so how about those sandwiches?”

[ssour-apathyy]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ taking care of you (caitvi x reader)

hockey player!vi x basketball player!caitlyn x cheerleader! reader, established relationship, reader is sick, medicine is taken (orally), use of y/n

word count; 1305

summary; after they learn that you're under the weather, your girlfriends decide to take care of you

a/n; y'all this is my first time writing in like 8 years and it was completely on a whim. written in my flu-riddled, drugged up state so this is likely trash but we move

Caitlyn was the first to notice.

She had her suspicions based off the fact that you were painfully slow at responding to your texts the entire day, but as the cheer squad entered the court to perform their routine one member down, she knew something was wrong.

In the four years that she had known you, you had never been missing. Be it practice, a game, or even just scheduled time for the squad to goof off, you were there. Always.

Worry settled deep into her gut. She tried to focus on the game, she really did, but after she fumbled her third layup of the second quarter, she realised that your absence was affecting her more than the thought.

── ⟢

She kept her head down as the team exited the building, bag slung half-hazardly over her shoulder, and nobody dared to question what's going on with her. As soon as Caitlyn pushed her way through the double doors, Vi pushed herself off the nearby wall and approached.

"Hey, are you good?" she asked carefully, bringing her arms up to softly grasp onto the taller girl's biceps so she could check her over.

"Have you heard from Y/N?" she countered, ignoring Vi's question.

"Ah" the red head hummed knowingly, glancing up at Caitlyn with a small smirk. "So that's what's going on. Missed your good luck charm?"

Caitlyn huffed in response, lightly shoving the other girl's shoulder. "Shut up."

Vi just chuckled and moved to wrap her arm around Cait's waist, slowly guiding her in the direction of her car. "I did, actually. She's sick, got the flu or something."

Caitlyn's eyebrows furrowed and her feet stopped, looking down at Vi in a mix of confusion and worry. "Sick? Why wouldn't she tell me that? I--"

"Relax, cupcake" Vi reassured, gently tugging her to get them moving again. "She only told me after I got done with practice. Didn't want to throw either of us off our game, especially since yours was important."

With a small grumble, Caitlyn slid into the passenger seat as Vi got behind the wheel.

── ⟢

You rolled over with a groan, pulling the bedding further over your head to try and protect your eyes from the bright light spilling into your bedroom, lest it worsen your headache.

All day had been one long continuous stream of; sleep for 20 minutes, wake up because you couldn't breathe, cough up a lung, sip some water, repeat. Painkillers had only weakened the headache, never fully getting rid of it, and so you would lay there and mourn the days of being in good health that you took for granted.

Your mom took a seat at the edge of your bed, pressing a kind hand to your shoulder over the plush duvet. "How are you feeling, sweet pea?" she asked softly, and took your instant groan as your response. "Well, if you're feeling even a little better, you have two visitors."

You perked up just a little at that, slowly lifting the sheet away from your head so you could squint in the direction of your doorway. Your girlfriends stood patiently, Caitlyn being the picture perfect definition of concern, as Vi tried to give you a small wave from around the two grocery bags in her arms.

You moved to sit up, your mom lifting your pillow to lean against the headboard for your comfort, as you gave the two girls a small smile. They carefully stepped into the room, standing a little awkwardly by the foot of your bed as your mom stood up and headed for the door.

"I'm going to make soup. I'll bring some up for the three of you when it's ready." She smiled at the chorus of 'thank you's, and closed the door behind her.

The second the latch clicked, Caitlyn was sat by your side and cradling your face in her hands like you were the world's most precious artefact. "You poor baby" she cooed, eyes roaming over your face as she checked your temperature with the back of her hand. "You're burning up, Y/N. Why didn't you tell us you were sick earlier?"

"Probably because she knew this would happen" Vi teased from where she was emptying the bags out onto your desk. Cait just rolled her eyes and peppered kisses across your face, mumbling a small "be right back" before quickly leaving the room.

"So, I'm pretty sure we brought about half of the store with us" Vi started, stepping to the side and swinging one arm out to gesture at your desk that was now covered in various different snacks and drinks. Your eyes widened slightly and you let out a small laugh of disbelief, which caused her to grin.

She lifted up a bottle of Gatorade and raised an eyebrow questioningly, to which you nodded and patted the space beside you on the bed. Vi carried the bottle over with her, placing it onto your nightstand before climbing up to sit against the headboard next to you. She wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you into her, manoeuvring you to sit between her legs with your head against her chest, strong arms holding you gently as she rests her chin atop your head.

Caitlyn comes back not long after with a cold, damp flannel in her hand. She picks up the medicine from the desk, and sits down next to you both, pressing the fabric to the hot skin of your forehead. You close your eyes and let out a small sigh of relief, relaxing back into Vi.

"We brought the strong stuff" the taller girl starts, her voice gentle as she uncaps the bottle. "It's nasty, but it works, so you've got to take it, okay?"

You grimace and turn your head away from her in defiance, shuffling a little in Vi's hold. The two girl's eyes meet in a silent exchange of words, and Vi ever so carefully guides your face back towards Cait with a hand on your cheek.

"C'mon, sweets" she murmurs in your ear. "Don'cha wanna be good for us? Hm?"

Damn it.

Your face flushes a little at that, although if anybody asked then you would say it's the fever. With a little huff, you open your eyes to see Cait holding out the spoon of medicine expectantly, and part your lips. She feeds you the liquid and you swallow immediately, releasing a little gack noise at the awful taste as Vi coos and cuddles into you.

"There you go. Good girl" Caitlyn praises, handing you the Gatorade so you can wash it down. She puts the medicine back onto the desk and grabs a couple of snacks and other drinks, setting them onto the nightstand before climbing onto the bed to join you both.

She curls into your side, resting her head on your shoulder as Vi boots up your TV and flicks through the movies listed. "Anything in particular?" she questions softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wicked" you reply quietly, already feeling your body grow heavy with sleep in response to being surrounded by their warmth. The way Vi is holding you so securely against her, along with Caitlyn's legs intertwined with your own, one arm lazily draped across your stomach, making you feel so safe and secure.

She presses play on the movie and discards the controller to the side, the three of you cuddling further into each other than some would say possible.

And that's how your mom finds you later on, when she comes to check if you're ready to eat. Three sets of soft snores barely audible over the sound of 'I'm not that girl' playing through the speakers. She smiles to herself as she carefully closes the door over on her way out, leaving you to rest peacefully, knowing that you're being taken care of by your girls.

[ozzgin]

What would happen if streamer reader expressed having a favorite regular? I'm fearful but curious

Oh, it would be chaos. Perhaps you didn't even mean to frame it that way; it merely slipped that you converse significantly more with one of the monsters in your following. You try to rectify your mistake, but it's too late. Your loyal groupies are particularly upset.

LizardKing5 would immediately burst into an angry rant, tearing down every other monster he can think of and giving you reasons as to why he's obviously much better. It's alright, you're just a silly human. Clearly you don't know better.

LizardKing5: Who is it, (Y/N)? Huh? I have all evening. What could you possibly talk about with these imbeciles that singles me out? LizardKing5: Give me a name LizardKing5: Was it that damn shark grandpa? I'll grill him SharkMan: Exceptionally rude of you!

SharkMan tries his best to be understanding, though if he is to be honest, he can't deny the faint pang of jealousy tugging at his chest. Why, of course you might have other monsters you prefer. It's just, well...He was hoping he'd earned a special place in your heart. He's always looked after you, so he was certain you'd trust him enough to make him your primary confidant.

SharkMan: Please don't feel bad about your sincere feelings, (Y/N) dear. It is only normal to feel closer to some than to others. SharkMan: ...I would love to take you out for a coffee, so you could explain to me what makes this individual so extraordinary and worthy of your favoritism.

DefNotAStalker is not shocked in the slightest. After all, he is right there with you and knows all of your conversations and secrets. Moreover, he's rather confident that no other monster has the same kind of intimacy with you. He'll just silently observe as you squirm in your seat, stuttering excuses and reassuring the enamored masses.

Y/NSimp is convinced you're talking about him. Of course, you're using code names so that no one can figure it out. It makes sense. He'll nod to himself, smug and proud. While the other monsters rage with jealousy, he'll lean back in his chair with a humble nod.

Y/NSimp: Guys, guys...clearly this guy must be one hell of a monster. You can't decide who (Y/N) prefers. Let it go. LizardKing5: Let me guess...you think this is about yourself. Y/NSimp: Oh no, I'd never~! It's okay to feel insecure, man. I'm here if you need a hug. LizardKing5: See, this is why you're not party of any groups. Y/NSimp: what groups Y/NSimp: hello?

HornyMantis has no idea what the hell is going on. He was entranced by the way your boobs jiggle slightly underneath your hoodie every time you raise your arm. Did you say something? Why is everyone furiously typing? He tries to scan the flood of messages, still in a daze. Something about a favorite...Ah!

HornyMantis: are we talking about our favorite (Y/N) parts? HornyMantis: boobs HornyMantis: or...? let me think about it HornyMantis: nah HornyMantis: it's boobs

[tusswrites]

Rockabye Baby (j.ww)

Wonwoo x fem!Reader

"First-time dad Wonwoo trying to navigate the ropes of parenting while missing you"

genre: fluff, humor; rating : 16+ word count: 2.1k warnings: none! credits: the littol menace @svtiddiess for helping me with the banner and beta reading author's note: this is set in the same universe as 'Bun In The Oven', but it can be read independently. written from wonwoo's pov! send an ask to be added to the tag list (better see an age in the bio)! tagging : @jenoslutie, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @gyubakeries , @skzbangchanniee, @ariananotgrandeee, @wonufos masterlist here, domestic seventeen masterlist here

If at first he fainted upon hearing the news of the soon-to-be arrival of his offspring, he is now beyond frantic, doom scrolling in the wee hours of the morning on Reddit through multiple ‘First Time Dad’ posts. When he thinks Y/N can’t hear him, he lifts her shirt and begins to talk to his baby, he cannot be caught alive thinking he believes that shit and lose his ‘macho man’ facade. All lies, Y/N can never sleep at night, and is desperately holding her giggles at her husband’s constant whining to their baby about how mean their mom is to him. 

His aunt has given him some herbal medicine that runs in the family, vital for new mothers and despite Y/N’s bemoaning, he holds her by the neck and forces that ‘disgusting shit’ down her throat. ‘It’s for the baby Y/N’ he reminds her for the umpteenth time although he gags a little at the odd smell, that stuff is not for him, no thank you. 

At work, he is frantic, nervous, and excited all in one. When Jeonghan caught him tearing up at the back of the makeup room, rocking himself, arms tightly wound around, trying to stop his steady flow of tears, he finally confesses that he doesn’t think he will be a good father. “I never cared for children much hyung, I don’t think I have those paternal instincts to look after a newborn. I am scared I will run out on my child.” He sobs into his hyung’s arms who holds him tight and consoles him.

 “When the little one comes, you will forget all your fears. You’re not the type of person to give up on something you care about, especially not your child.” Jeonghan rubs his back gently, trying to soothe his distress. “You may not feel ready now, but you’ll rise to the occasion. Every parent has doubts, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re not going to be an amazing dad. You’ll figure it out as you go, and your love for your child will guide you through it.”

 Wonwoo freaks out when his wife thinks she is some sort of daredevil, trying to climb on the countertop to grab a jar. “Are you crazy?” he shrieks out.

“I can’t always keep asking you to attend to every beck and call of mine. Besides, it’s not that high,” you try to reason with him, but he has no chill, pushing you gently toward the bedroom and getting you back in bed, propping your feet up on the extra set of cushions he ordered from Amazon just for you.

“I don’t care,” he counters firmly. “Until you pop out that baby, you are on lockdown. No leaving the bed, and absolutely no scaling countertops for a mason jar of pickles. I’ll get it for you—just call me. That’s why I took time off, so you don’t have to risk anything, especially not now,” he says, his voice steady but laced with concern. He smooths the blanket over you, making sure you're comfortable before settling beside you with a deep sigh.

It seems the baby isn’t the only thing he’s freaking out about—he’s also on high alert to make sure you’re okay, every step of the way. Why must you do dangerous acts this far in your pregnancy?

“I am pregnant Wonwoo, I can still walk and do things, ‘m not a doll.”

“Never said you can’t do things, baby,” he says softly, smoothing the crease in your brow with a gentle peck. “It’s just to reassure me, for my peace of mind. I don’t want you pulling any stuntwoman moves just days before Little Bun gets here. So please, for me, at least?”

He looks at you with those pleading eyes, the ones that always seem to get to you. Till the baby comes, he’s hopefully the cutest person you’ve ever seen, the one you can never say no to.

“Fine.” You huff out. “But grab me a jar of mayonnaise to go with the pickles.”

“Mayo-? With pickles? H-ho?” he sputters, absolutely stumped at your taste buds.

“Is there a problem Mr Jeon?” your brow is quirked, amusedly staring at your befuddled husband's face.

“No, no, stay right there. Mayonnaise with pickles coming right up,” he says, still in shock, but resigned. He silently prays that Little Bun arrives quickly, before his wife loses herself in yet another round of bizarre food combinations.

“And sprinkles too!” you holler from the bedroom, your voice carrying.

“Lord, give me strength,” Wonwoo mutters to himself, shaking his head as he makes his way to the kitchen, shuddering at the disgusting combo.

The day of your labor arrived very anticlimactically, if Wonwoo could call it that. There was no sudden gush of water, no dramatic screams or threats hurled at him. Just a quiet morning, like any other day. If not for him glued to your side, he daresay he might have missed it altogether. The moment you felt discomfort, he was already rushing you to the ER, completely ignoring your reassurances that it was just a false alarm.

He probably needed to celebrate this victory with a cake that said, “I Told You So,” because, yes, he was right—the little one did arrive that very day, though not without a few bumps along the way. None of the dad books had prepared him for the fact that the scrubs handed to him in the labor room were supposed to go over his clothes. After a certain amount of confused stripping, a shrieking nurse, and a hollering wife, he learned a very important lesson. There can only be one naked person in the OR—and that person was definitely not him.

The jitters came when his daughter came into the world, unperturbed and squinting angrily at him, like she didn’t want to be there. He can pity her sentiments. But the baby was not crying. Sure she was breathing, but where is that high-pitched wail the books taught him?

No amount of parenting manuals could prepare him for this moment, to see his little one clutching tightly to his pinky finger, staring at him with your eyes and his nose, and the feeling of love encompasses him. Is this someone he created? He holds you extra close, trying to hold the tears at bay. Gratitude, pure and raw, fills him—thankful for you, for this little one, for the family he has.

Some sort of humor is brought in by his mate Soonyoung who arrives at the hospital, all ready to see the newborn in a new tuxedo to make ‘ a good impression’ “This is a baby Soonie”. “First impressions matter Won-Won.” He leaves it at that, knowing deep down his mate's plan was to bag the ‘best uncle’ title.

It’s never without its mishaps however- he cannot understand the hospital staff when they give him the green light that it's time to go home. 

“Are you sure?” He persistently asks, there is no way he can ensure the safety of a being that came into the world just a few hours ago and now he is entrusted to make sure this thing is alive and flourish. What are they thinking?

Seeing that familiar tick of annoyance on your face, he supposes he has been asking that question way too many times and reluctantly picks up the baby carrier, although he is scared shitless, out of his mind with fear. He does not want to place the baby in a car seat, to your utter confusion.

“She was slimy and squiggly, what if she slid right out? He ponders. 

Assuring him that the baby will be “fine and protected,” and to further calm his nerves, you sit in the backseat too, keeping a watchful eye on your little one as Wonwoo starts the engine for the long drive home. He is not the only first-time parent here.

It took a whole day and a half before the secret was out in the open. “Wonwoo, I need to grab a bite, here hold Nabi for a second.” You hold the child in mid-air expectantly waiting for her father to pick her up.

“Just place her in the crib, she's safer there.” 

“Wons, that’s in the other room, what are you so afraid of holding your child?”

He waits for the realization to dawn on you. “Wait a minute, have you held her even once?”

“I brought her here in a baby carrier?”

I meant holding her Wonwoo, not in a carrier or rocking the crib.”

His guilty face speaks enough. “She’s just so tiny Y/N! And her head is wobbly. What if I drop her?” Why can’t you understand his sentiment? He will move heaven and earth for his daughter except maybe hold her and risk dropping her.

"Wonwoo, you're not going to drop her. Babies are fragile, but you're not going to break her just by holding her," you explain, taking a deep breath to stay patient with his nerves. You reach out, gently placing your hands on his shoulders, making him look at you. “Extend your arms”

He does, in slight trepidation.

“Wonwoo, Nabi is a full-grown newborn now, not a watermelon! Seriously, how small do you think she is? A little bigger gap won't hurt. Just trust yourself," you soothe, noticing his hesitation. 

Very gently, you place the tiny baby into his arms, and he holds his breath, afraid that if he so much as breathes, Nabi will blow away. This time, he cannot stop the tears that fall freely, privileged at the fact that she made him a father.

Yes, he knew about the lack of sleep and the constant need to change his baby. But what he did not know was that he would miss you this much. Around the clock, you both took shifts to watch the baby and rock the baby to sleep.But nothing prepared him for how much he’d miss you. The number of times he’s woken up in a state of panic because you weren’t there when he felt around to bring you closer and into his arms, only to be comforted when he switches on the night lamp and watches you half asleep, feeding his little girl. On tiptoes, he’ll pick his daughter up, the little gremlin who’s staring wide-eyed at him, and walk around the room with her, to give you a moment to rest. When you wake up in pursuit of your husband and child you see a snoring Wonwoo, holding little Nabi to his chest, both blissfully unaware of the mini heart attack they’d given you. 

Wonwoo has come to the conclusion that it's in those little moments—those quiet, fleeting moments—when he gets to have you all to himself. Three months after Nabi's arrival, he finally gets a taste of that luxury, when the little one is fast asleep, her soft breaths the only sound filling the room. Nabi is finally sticking to sleeping through the night, after listening to his fathers croons. When he returns to the living room, he finds you slumped against the couch, utterly exhausted. Your hair is stuck to your forehead, and the exhaustion is clear on your face, but there's something else there too—a quiet peace that tells him the chaos of midnight feedings and diaper changes has finally settled into a rhythm... for now. He’s not going to jinx it.

Silently moving you, hushing down your sleepy murmurs, gently lifting you, and placing you against his chest, he starts to rub your head in hopes you get back to sleep, a trick he learned early on to calm his daughter down. In this quiet, he can finally hear himself think, something he has never been able to do the past few months. His heart still thumps excitedly like it did the first time he laid eyes on you. To watch as the girl he once fell for, eons ago is now his wife and he gets to share a child with you, with the promise of having eternity by your side, he sleeps easy tonight, murmuring a quick ‘I love you’ and thank you’ as he places one more soft kiss on your cheek, forever elated that you’re his.

Alas, rest is not for the wicked. A sudden phone call on his cell has you both startled and wide awake as you rush to silence his phone.

“Why is it not on vibrate Wonwoo?” You start, angrily scrambling to sit on the phone in hopes of shutting it off, all rationality flying out the window in your sleep-deprived state.

“Shh, Nabi has still not woken up, which means she probably didn’t hear the phone ring,” he whispers as you both hold hands and painstakingly wait in agony for the jurisdiction of your child’s wailing. You are in luck, after all, she has still not woken up.

A glance at his phone has him jump up excitedly, “Yes, I won the bet to Mingyu, he owes me two tickets to see IU next month.” Unfortunately for him, his enthusiasm runs short tonight, for there comes the familiar cry from your baby’s room and a murderous look from you. “JEON WONWOO”

Uh.Oh.

Reblog, comment to share your thoughts! Goes a long way!

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing [prequal blurb]

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. He asks you to be his date at a work party, but doesn’t realize how possessive he just may be.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: older!harry, angst then fluff, age gap (15 years), possessiveness, fem!reader

"Pretty dress for a pretty girl," Harry's voice came from the doorway.

You stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting the fabric of your dress. The material clung to you in all the right ways. A swirl of nerves knotted in your stomach, making you second-guess your choice.

You glanced at him in the reflection, feeling a little unsure. "It’s not too much, is it?"

He moved closer, his footsteps light, his eyes never leaving you. "Not at all. You look perfect." His lips kissed your head as his hand gently rested on your shoulder.

Harry had invited you as his date to a work party he was hosting. You’d met a few of his colleagues in passing, but never like this, never as Harry’s date. The thought alone made your palms a little sweaty.

You adjusted your hair and gave yourself one last look in the mirror, making sure your makeup was just right. With a final spritz of perfume, you took a steadying breath and linked your arm with Harry’s. He gave a warm and reassuring smile and led you downstairs.

"Such a gentleman," you teased as he opened the front door for you and guided you into the passenger seat of his car.

He chuckled. "Someone has to be."

The drive was quiet but comforting. Harry was always at ease, making small talk about work, the city, anything to fill the space. When you arrived at the venue, he did the same, opening the car door with an easy grace before helping you step out onto the red carpeted walkway.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm with a charming grin.

You giggled and nodded, slipping your hand through his and walked into the party.

Once inside, the atmosphere was very shiny, polished, full of people wearing smiles that were just a little too perfect. The men shook hands, the women glided in their gowns, and everyone seemed to be in conversation for the sole purpose of making connections.

It wasn’t long before you were swept away by some of the wives, pulling you into their circle.

They didn’t waste any time with small talk, quickly asking you about Harry. "So, how long have you and Harry been dating?" one of them asked.

"Oh, we’re just friends."

The woman blinked at you in surprise. "Really? But you’ve…well, you’ve slept together, right?" She bluntly asked.

The question hit you like a splash of ice cold water. You shifted uncomfortably but kept your composure. "No, we haven’t."

Her eyebrows arched, and she let out a knowing laugh, that was almost condescending. "Well, you could have fooled me."

You had no idea how to respond. Before you could get any words out, another one of the wives chimed in, dragging the conversation in another direction.

Meanwhile, Harry was engaged in a conversation with Eric, a colleague of his.

"She's beautiful, Harry," Eric commented as he raised his glass, a smirk on his face. "How long have you two been together?"

Harry stiffened just the slightest bit before answering, without thinking, he lied, embellishing the truth. "A couple of months. But we’ve been friends for a while."

Eric raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the distinction. Harry wasn’t an idiot. He knew Eric had eyes on you, despite him being 50 and you being 23. He knew he had no right to interfere, he should have let you reject Eric yourself, but he couldn’t help it.

Later in the night, you found yourself conversing alone with Eric. He was charming and handsome, a silver fox, but something about him made you uneasy.

"You and Harry seem like a great couple," Eric remarked, a glint of something almost predatory in his eyes.

You laughed, trying to keep the conversation light. "Oh, we’re not a couple."

He blinked in surprise. "Really? Harry told me you two were dating.”

“Uh, no, we’re close friends, he asked me to be his date tonight.”

Well, if you’re single, can I get your number? I’d love to take you out." He pulled out his phone, the screen glowing in the dim lighting.

It wasn’t that you were actively avoiding relationships, but you certainly weren’t looking for one at the moment. Still, you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, especially since you didn’t have the ‘I have a boyfriend’ excuse anymore.

"Sure," you said with a smile, though your body tensed up. You grabbed his phone, typing in your number.

From across the room, Harry’s eyes locked onto the scene. His face darkened, though he kept his distance, the line of his jaw tight.

The rest of the night felt like an endless loop of small talk, but something in Harry’s demeanor had shifted. He was quieter, more reserved around you, though he wasn’t outright rude. You noticed it, the way he was almost avoiding you, his answers shorter, less engaging. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as the night was already winding down.

"Not really in the mood to stay, bunny." he muttered in your ear, his voice tired.

You nodded. The drive back was silent, but the tension between you both was thick enough to feel like it was pressing against your chest.

"Harry," you began, hesitating, "Why did you tell Eric we’re dating?"

He didn’t immediately respond, his fingers tight on the steering wheel. "Are you really thinking about going with him?" he asked, his voice quiet, but his words sharp.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Do you have a problem with that?"

Harry’s gaze flickered to you for a moment, his lips curling into a tight, frustrated smile. "He’s too old for you," he muttered under his breath.

You didn’t bite back immediately, instead choosing to remind him, "We have a pretty big age gap, you know."

Harry’s eyes flashed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. "He’s 50, I’m 38. And he’s just trying to bone a 23-year-old before never talking to you again."

The words stung a bit, you felt a sharp pang in your chest. It wasn’t just the age comment, but the way he spoke about it…like you were some sort of object for Eric to claim and discard.

You were already pulling at the door handle by the time the car came to a stop in front of the house, your silence louder than any words. Without saying anything, you stepped out and headed inside, your heart thumping as you retreated to the bathroom to shower.

Harry immediately regretted his words, he had let his emotions get to him. He decided to wait outside the bathroom door, which was connected to his room, and wait for you so he could apologize. He sat on his bed quietly, replaying the words in his mind, guilt flowing through him.

After a few minutes, you emerged in your pajamas, your wet hair dripping slightly. Without a word, Harry pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your neck.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I just…I just feel protective of you. And I never meant to imply that Eric only sees you for your age and not how perfect you are, sweet thing."

You relaxed into his embrace, a soft smile tugging at your lips as his lips started to travel around your body. His kisses were gentle as they went down your face, across your cheeks, your forehead, then back to your neck, making you giggle and squirm.

"I forgive you," you whispered, your voice light, the tension finally slipping away. “And for the record, I wasn’t actually considering going on a date with him, you’re the only old man I want in my life.”

He laughed out, more guilt rushing through his body, thinking about how much he overreacted when you weren’t even being serious.

“I love you, sweet thing, I promise not to cock block you the next time you’re about to get some…even if the dick is old enough to be your father.”

[read more of Sweet Thing here!] [and here!]

Tag List:

@mema10

@lizsogolden

[peachesofteal]

MELOS (PART THREE)

main masterlist / Azriel's masterlist

Part two here / Melos masterlist Azriel/female reader - 6.6k words - AO3 Tags - 18+ mdni, explicit content, hurt/comfort, caretaking, possessive behavior, usual warning for Azriel's self loathing. Brief suicidal ideation. Azriel willing to rip anyone to shreds for threatening his mate, complicated IC dynamics, Amren sucks. Oral sex - fem receiving, little bit of edging, Dom/sub undertones, praise kink. canon compliant.

Fear.

It slams into him, shakes the bond so violently he almost drops out of the sky, forces him off course over the jagged peak of Illyria, urging him to follow the intensity of your panic towards Velaris. Gone is his assignment, his contact awaiting his visit, his work. One objective rises above it all.

You. 

The Palace of Bone and Salt is in shambles, but he hardly notices. Somewhere it registers in the back of his mind there’s been a quake, there are injuries, damage, but none of it matters.

The only thing that matters is his mate in front of him, trembling, eyes wide and glazed over, blood trickling down your face and blooming across your ribs. There’s a roaring sound between his ears, dread and rage and agony all compounding into a mounting explosion, and for a moment, he worries he might level the city for its crime of harming you.

Feyre is tense, and Cassian watches him warily. “What happened?”

“We found her under there,” he points to a dilapidated merchant’s stall, his stomach roiling at the sight of it, heavy stone counter cracked in half, wood and glass scattered across the ground, “protecting a little girl. We think she’s in shock.”

Not shock. Trapped in memories.

There’s a haunted look in your eye, a flicker of nightmares.

His brave girl. 

He holds himself at bay, holds himself back from shooting into the sky with you cradled to his chest, carrying you as fast as the wind will allow to Madja, or pulling you into a cloud of shadow so he can arrive uninvited in her living room.

“She needs a healer.” His jaw has never been clenched so tight. The smell of your blood is making him sick.

“We know,” Feyre tries to reassure him, but at the same time angles her body to block his path. Cassian shakes his head, because he knows, just as Feyre should, standing between a male and his mate is a very bad idea. He loves Feyre, but his affection for her is nothing compared to what he feels for you, and her behavior in this moment, is reckless. “Az,” she tries to caution him, tone pitching low, serious, “maybe you should back-“

Remove her, the shadows snap, she is in our way.

“You need a healer.” He pretends she doesn’t exist, pushes his anger as far away as he can manage, and addresses you instead. You shake your head.

“I need to go. Home. I need to go… home.” Cassian snorts. Azriel wonders if it’s possible to break his jaw in one punch.

You’re slipping, unsteady on your feet, going somewhere in your mind he cannot follow and his panic ratches upward as he says your name and you don’t respond.

“Feyre,” Cassian murmurs, “step back.” She stiffens, but listens, and he surges forward, unable to keep away any longer.

His heart sings as he cups your cheek. It’s the first time he’s touched you since his hands brought you harm, and he chokes on a breath as you lean into his touch, satin against scars. “Look at me,” he soothes, trying to draw you back to the present, but it’s a losing battle. You’re going to pass out, and you’re scared, he can read it all so clearly, scared to slip away in the dark, scared to succumb to the nightmare in your mind. “It’s okay.” I’m here, he wants to scream, you’re not alone. You fist his shirt and blink like you’re trying to clear the fog from your head, but it’s not enough.

In one moment, you’re here, you’re with him.

And in the next, you’re collapsing in his arms.

Time is so fickle.

There’s not enough of it now. For so long, his existence was a plague, an endless agony rife with shame, a life undeserving. He dreamt, multiple times, of falling out of the sky and into the Sidra, sinking to the bottom and letting the cold water fill his lungs. He never wanted more, not truly. He had no need for time.

Now, it’s all he wants. More time for more chances to tell you how sorry he is and kneel at your feet, beg you for forgiveness. More time to know you. To love you. Time to learn your likes and dislikes, what makes your nose wrinkle, what adds a skip to your step. Time to take you flying, to trek through the forest with you on an endless scavenger hunt, watch as you bite your lip and furrow your brow at Moonflower’s worktable.

If the Mother would give him another chance. 

If you would.

Time is fickle, because for months, he’s begged it to slow down, and now, he’s pleading with it to speed up, bring him to the moment where you wake.

Madja assured him you would make a full recovery within a day or two. She left a healing salve for the gash in your side, and some sleeping draught in case you were too uncomfortable to rest. You were exhausted, she told him, far weaker than she was comfortable with, body and magic wrung dry.

“Try to get her to eat something,” she said, “and then make sure she sleeps. She needs it. A lot of it.” 

The guilt is insurmountable. It chews away at his insides, burrows itself deep beneath his skin like a disease, rotting his flesh and mind. All he sees is your face, terrified, tormented, first in his dungeon and again, in the Palace. He sees you shuddering amongst the ruin, eyes rolling back in your head, collapsing in his arms. He can still hear your gasps, your pleas from that night, the steady thump of your heart slowing as he took your air, again and again. It’s these memories, these moments igniting in his chest, pain so visceral it aches, the agony of his mate’s suffering tearing him apart from the inside out. No matter the end of his story, of yours, there will always be this cordolium within him, this stark regret plaguing his every step. You’re so beautiful it possesses the power to break him, a strange, beautiful creature, breathtaking from the tip of your nose to the depths of your mind, and he’s a monster, lurking in your nightmares.

A beauty, and a beast.

You whimper and twitch in the blankets, hands fisted, limbs stiff. “Shhh,” he strokes the apple of your cheek. He's been able to settle you somehow, lull you back to peace thanks to the music spinning between your soul and his, threads knitting around the frail, fledging bond, pushing you to take comfort in him as you rest. It's more than he could ever ask for. “You’re okay, sweet girl. You’re safe.” Your sleep has been fitful, at best, and he wonders if he’s the one haunting you, or something else.

He's still in the chair beside the bed when you begin to blink groggily, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You’re clouded with confusion, echoes of apprehension strumming down the bond, and he meets it, tempering it with reassurance in hope it reaches the other side. “Hey,” he murmurs, holding perfectly still like you’re a small animal and he’s the predator determined not to spook you as you push up onto your elbows with a groan. “Careful. The wound in your side is pretty raw.”

“Where am I?” you croak, and he reaches for the glass of water waiting on the table.

“My house. I didn’t think you’d take kindly to me breaking into yours.” Mostly true. He can’t deny there’s a warm hum of satisfaction purring in his chest at having you here, in his bed, safe within his walls, and he was too unsettled by the thought of bringing you to the River House, or the House of Wind, even though Feyre tried to insist.

Over the course of his life, Azriel’s loyalty, his dedication to his family, his court, has been instinctual, engrained in him down to the core, and his drive to protect his loved ones, Velaris, has been one of his defining features for centuries.

But this instinct has now shifted to you, and you are still an unknown to his High Lord.

“You brought me to your house…” You glance around, unsure. He knows how it seems. A venomous trap laid by him to ensnare you, to hold you here, by his side, forever. A way to feed poison into your veins, stun you, paralyze you, so he can steal you away, shield you from the world.

“You needed a healer, and rest. This was the logical option." You hold his gaze. It’s one of those instances, one of many, where there’s nothing else but you and him, nothing else that matters, nothing that even comes close. He wishes they could last forever. “I had to make sure you’re okay.” He braces for your wrath, the tart, sweet contrast of a raspberry, pinching the pockets of his cheeks and rolling across his tongue. He had a taste of it in the Middle, with the swamp, and now he craves it. Your fight, your cunning. Clever witchling. 

Your expression sours at the salve. “How bad is it?”

“A piece of marble crushed your ribs, and the jagged edge ripped your skin open. Madja says you’ll be healed in a day, but your body is exhausted and slowing the process. She left a sleep tonic, if you need it.” He murmurs, walking the line of too much and too little delicately, desperate to avoid crushing this fragile truce.

You shift, wincing, small yelp slipping free from between your teeth, and he stills you, brushing his hand along your arm before he can stop himself. “Easy.” The touch is electric, a live wire arcing through the room, crackling in the air, and he draws away out of fear, worry he’ll startle you. “We should get you home,” he says softly, and you nod. He won’t try to force it, push this farther. You won’t be comfortable here, and he’s cradling this burgeoning peace, fanning its flame, encouraging it to grow, trying to keep from ruining it. Working at something he's not sure he can achieve. 

“Yeah I… I think that’s a good idea.” You sit up slowly, leaning to one side to alleviate the pressure on your ribs. “How far is it? To my house?” He frowns.

“Far. We’re on the other side of the city. Do you think you can winnow?”

“I don’t know.” You try to wriggle closer to the side of the bed, but it’s fleeting, and your shoulders slump with defeat.

“I can take you, if you’d like.” You glance at his wings.  

“With those?”

“No, I wouldn’t fly with you in this cold.”

“With the shadows then.” You look down at your lap, and the weight of his choices crash like a wave upon his shoulders. The last time he took you through shadow, it was to the chamber, and then back. He swallows.

“It’s the quickest way.” You fix your gaze across the room, sweeping over his dresser, the nook lined with bookshelves and overstuffed velvet chairs, the chest of weapons on the opposite side. Charcoal grey drapes frame the floor to ceiling windows, aquamarine and citrine refracting through the stained-glass onto the deep, nearly black, green walls and polished wide plank wood floors.

“This is your room.” Your fingertips glide across the sheets, black satin, and his cheeks grow hot. 

“Yes.”

“It fits you.” Your lips tilt into the thinnest crescent moon, something akin to a tiny smile, and optimism soars in his heart.

You hold out your hand, the tattoo a mirror to his, the ink and magic of salvation, his contrition, the thing he now bows to, idolatrously.

Without it, he’d be lost.

You take a long, deep breath and uncurl your fingers, opening your palm. The small sliver of trust knocking his entire existence askew.

The meaning of this-

This trust you deign to place in him now, when you’re vulnerable, when your magic is feeble and your physical strength is sapped, is an infinitesimal gift, divinity defying all.

Unworthy. Another thing you’re giving him that he’s unworthy of.

The threads sing, weaving notes together, highs and lows, one side of a fugue, one side still waiting.

Your throat bobs with a swallow, and you graze your fingertips against his. “You’ll take me home then?”

He’s not sure he can leave you here.

She’s in pain, the shadows bemoan as they carefully flutter at your ankles. You’re too fatigued to notice, too busy contemplating the stairs with trepidation. Climbing them is a daunting task, one he fears you may fail. You’re hurting, completely exhausted, and he’s powerless. He can’t fix it or take it away, like everything else that’s happened. Your eyes are nearly dead, drained, and the shadows flitter around you anxiously. She cannot hold herself up. 

I know.                                                                   

“Can I help you up the stairs?” You shake your head vehemently, and like you’re trying to prove something, attempt to take the first step on shaky legs, gripping tight to the banister like it will keep you steady.

Your knees give out immediately, and his self-restraint vanishes. He lifts you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, petrichor and oakmoss flooding his senses, and you don't even flinch. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, “let me help.”

“I’m tired,” you whisper, voice smaller than he’s ever heard, and he tightens his hold.

“I know. Let’s get you into bed, alright?” Weak limbed and limp, you slump against him, giving yourself over. More trust, more of these things he does not deserve. 

“Madja said your bandage won’t need to be changed before you’re healed, so you won’t have to worry about that tomorrow.” He carefully guides you back against your pillows, trying to ignore how caring for you, holding you, being here with you ignites a swath of feelings in him, possessiveness, protective instincts, obsession. Devotion. The rage, the hatred, the darkness haunting him slips into silence, drowned out by the music, the melody overtaking all.

“Okay,” you mumble, trailing off into a yawn as you squint at him. He wants to stay right here, sitting on the edge of your bed, his hip against your thigh, the neutral, barely there contact chasing off the stygian sullenness waiting to welcome him back to its embrace.

Don’t push it. 

He stands. You follow the movement, head tipping back, exposing your throat. Such a vulnerable place, one he greatly wants to drag his lips across. “I’ll let you sleep.” He says instead, stifling the pleasure surging in his blood at the way your eyes track him. He swears he seems a flicker of sadness there, but it’s gone before he can truly process it, hold on it, commit it to memory. When you don’t say anything else, he nods, drawing a sable shroud around his shoulders, readying to step into-

“Azriel,” he freezes, catching your gaze, “thank you.”

“Of course.” He’d do anything for you, little witch. Anything you asked. 

“I’ll see you next week?” There’s a tinge of trepidation on your tongue but it’s not fear. It’s uncertainty. His lips lift into a smile, a genuine one, one that only exists around you.

“Next week.”

He’s summoned almost immediately, and arrives in Rhys’ office to find an audience of his brother and Feyre, Amren, Cassian. The only one missing is Mor.

He quiets himself. Hides everything inside, pulls the shadows close, reinforces the walls around his mind. “What is it?”

“What is it?” Rhys hisses, anger flashing through the room’s thickened fog of magic. “What is it?” Azriel slips into the mask, the one he perfected long ago, and crosses his arms. A mirror image of the father he hated.

“Your mate is a witch.” He looks to Cassian, who shakes his head. He didn’t do it, didn’t betray the secret, this turbulent reality.

It was bad enough they discovered he had a mate in the first place, but disappearing for two weeks, without communication, has its consequences, and he has a hard time denying Feyre anything. When she asked where he had been, what had caused him to leave so suddenly without word, everything came out.

Almost everything. 

“She’s not a witch, her mother was.”

“So she’s only half a witch,” Amren says drily, rolling her eyes. The shadows rumble, rankle with rage. 

“I could smell it, Az, but she’s done nothing wrong. We don’t want to interrogate her.” Feyre looks at him with sympathy, and he only regards her with that same cool stare. Rhys who appears to be of a different mind, snarls at him.

“You will bring her to me, immediately, and I will determine what kind of-“

“No. She is none of your concern.” He will not play this game. He will not give Rhys a single second with you, if this is his intention.

“She is a witch, living in my Court!”

“And do you not trust my ability to evaluate a threat?” It takes everything, everything he has, to keep his tone measured. Cassian’s eyes dart between the two of them and then clears his throat.

“He tortured her, Rhys.”

“I don’t care,” he snaps, “he is blinded by a mating bond.” He turns his attention back to Azriel, raw power crackling through the air between them. “You will bring her to me, or I will retrieve her myself, and you will not like what happens if I do.”

The room explodes in shadow. Midnight closes in from all sides, climbing the walls, crawling across the floor.

The bond thirsts for battle and blood, for his brother’s head, and Azriel’s vision tunnels, soaked in crimson, in wrath, malevolence worthy of a smote god.

Amren stands. Cassian takes a step forward.

“You would threaten my mate? Is this what we’ve come to?” He’s descended past reason now, encased in an icy coffin of fury, and his siphons gleam, the killing power inside him salivating at the potential for violence. For destruction.

His people are monsters, and so shall he be. 

To protect you, to protect his mate, he’d become anything, a brute, a nightmare, it makes no difference.

“Az, let’s-“

“Cassian.” He seethes, refusing to take his eyes from Rhys, “while you may be more amenable to how your mate is treated by our brother, I am not.” Guilt flashes in Rhys’ gaze, and a breath catches in Feyre’s throat with a small, strangled sound.

“This is ridiculous. Just bring the girl and be done with it.” Amren snorts, casually inspecting her fingernails to appear as if she’s unaffected, but Azriel knows better. The shadows know her heart, her truths, how she mourns the loss of what she once was, how she loathes the fact that she’s High Fae. How she’s all too aware of her weakened state, hiding behind her posturing and assumed infinite wisdom that's slowly becoming irrelevant. Like her.

“Amren. Shut up.” Cassian bites out, his siphons casting a rubied glow around the room, mixing with Azriel’s cobalt blue, painting them together into deep purple hues.

“You will never touch my mate, Rhys. Never.” His brother’s face sparks with surprise and then his lip curls.

“Or what?”

“Rhys!” Feyre whips towards him, horror and disappointment settled into the furrow of her brow. “This is enough.” She looks at Azriel. “We trust your judgement Az, of course we do, and Rhys forgets I met her in the Palace saving a child’s life.” She hisses, her own power pulsing between the brothers, creating a physical barrier.

It’s not wrapped tight to Azriel, but to Rhys.

It seems his brother has been outranked.

We can break it, the shadows croon.

No. 

This is his family, dysfunctional as it may be, as tumultuous it may be, they are still his.

Rhys is still his brother. His High Lord.

“Let’s take a breath, cool off.” Feyre coaxes, nudging at the fortress of Azriel’s mind. Go. I will speak to him.

Don’t bother. 

He will listen to reason, just… give it some time. 

He spares Rhys one more glance as his wings flex and shakes his head. “I am disappointed in you, brother. I had hoped by now you would have learned from your mistakes.”

He expects another challenge of some sort. “No swamp today?”

“No swamp.” You lead him to your workspace in the back of Moonflower, a light, airy space with shelves and shelves full of herbs, flowers, plants growing from glass jars, and hunk of rocks, precious metals, strips of steel haphazardly tucked beside them, all chaotic, all disorganized. Like your home, it’s fitting. “I figured you could hang out with me while I work.” It’s a trial in its own way, daring him to protest, to vanish, to be bored by you, disinterested.

He won’t. He’d never.

“What are you making?” The table is full of stuff. Books, a mortar and pestle, a brass scale. There’s a long, sharp knife next to a thick stalk of something purple that smells like lemon, flanked by two glass beakers, and a heaping pile of salt. A raised metal circle holds a sphere over open flame, its contents a cyan rich liquid just on the cusp of a boil.

“Today I’m trying to finish a batch of contraceptive tea, and a cleanser.”

“A cleanser?”

“It’s an elixir that pulls poison from the body. All the healers in Velaris keep it stocked. Works well for a hangover too.” You bless him with another smile, the second one today, and he tucks it away for when sleep struggles to come and he needs something to cling to.

You pin him with assessing eyes. Anything could roll from your tongue, a question, a request to fulfill the bargain, a demand to never see him again, and the precipice is agony. He wonders if this is how it would be to fall without wings, drop out of the sky and plummet towards the mountains, jump from a cliff and crash into the sea. Would his heart pound the same, lungs scream the same? Would he experience peace, the same he feels in your presence, would his past flash before his eyes, would his family, or you? Conflict shivers from behind your walls towards him, twisting through the bond. “You owe me an explanation, and while I… I do need to hear it, desperately... there are other things that weigh on me. The fact that you know well enough about me but I know very little about you." You draw a pattern through the heap of salt, suddenly distant. It passes, and you blow out a long breath. "Azriel… who are you?” He frowns.

“I am… the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster, I’m-“

“No. What are you, if not those things, the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster. Who are you?”

“I…” the answer doesn’t come and there’s suddenly a nest of cotton muffling sound and thought, spinning tangled webs throughout his brain. Who is he? 

“I'm clever,” you lift your nose and smirk, tracing the rim of the glass beaker to make low whistle tones, “and a friend. I make a very good honeysuckle whiskey cocktail, and I love to read. I’m a hunter too, of fungi and moss, the occasional crystal. I'm an alchemist, I balance nature and magic. I’m a daughter.” Your voice hitches on the last word, vowels pulled apart at the edges, longing lingering on your lips. It pains you. Another puzzle in the long list of surprises, another riddle you’ve posed without an answer, a truth he struggles to find. “Try,” you whisper, ever watchful.

“I’m a bastard.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, the stain upon his life since the day he was born. “And an Illyrian,” a brute, a monster, “I’m exceptionally skilled at causing pain and killing. I am warrior, a fighter. I have turned suffering into art. I am…” he doesn’t look at you. You’re the only thing capable of making him feel real fear, fear of your pain or suffering or anguish, the fear of your rejection, the fear of your disgust, and he can’t bring himself to see it on your face. “I am alone.” He braces for the pity, the same sharp sympathy given to him by his family.

“Well. Those are awful.” His gaze snaps to yours. You’re aggravated, and curious.

Always curious, our girl. 

She is, isn’t she? 

“You’re a brother, aren’t you? And an uncle?” He nods. “So, not alone. And you’re a bastard, probably mocked for it, hurt for it, but here you are, so I imagine you’re perseverant, strong. Strong in the physical sense too.” You peek at his shoulders, his arms, traveling down his chest before redirecting your attention to his face, somewhat abashed. “U-um, you’re-“

“Clever. Like you.”  

“Clever, like me. Brave too, I think, and probably devoted, loyal, considering your line of work.”

“Yes,” he whispers, symphony rising, notes colliding with perfect pitch, ringing in ears, a celestial rhythm waiting for the crescendo to match.

“Loved.” It’s a blazing star shooting across the sky, a buttery sweet sentiment melting in his mouth, loved.

“You didn’t list it for yourself.”

“Because it didn’t belong.” Loved? You don’t consider yourself loved?

“Why?”

“Because there is no one left. I am a good friend, a great one, but my secret prevents others from being a good friend to me. You cannot be loved if you are not known, not truly.” It crashes into him, the severity of your words. You cannot be loved if you are not known, not truly. 

Is he known? Truly known? Is he loved? 

Molten silver bubbles over from the sphere to a beaker, polychrome and pearl trickling down the sides, sizzling into a powder at the bottom. “Ah!” You jerk away from the table, bringing your hand to your chest, and he goes cold, shadows vibrating.

“What?” He’s around the corner and in front of you immediately,  

“It’s nothing, the silver just dripped on me.” You burned yourself. His chest tightens. 

“Let me see.” He cradles your hand in his, shadows quivering around your fingertip as he pulls you over to the tap. He turns the handle to the right temperature, cool but not cold, before putting your blistered skin under the spigot. If he’s fast enough, he can stop it from scarring, stop it from marring your lovely skin, prevent it from being with you for the rest of your life. “How does that feel?”

“Good.” You’re not looking at the water splashing down into the copper sink, or the burn. Instead, you're studying him, contemplating, considering.

“Do you have any cream here? Or maybe one of the salves you make...” He trails off, trying to think about what he’s seen in the shop out front, but everything he means to ask dies in his throat when you wrap your other hand around his.

“I’m okay, Azriel.” Right. Of course you are. It’s a small burn, not even the width of your fingertip. Suddenly, he feels very, very foolish, exposed, and he ties a cloak of obsidian around his shoulders, pulling the tendrils down around his forearms.

“Sorry, I-“

“I know.” You caress the shadows curling around his elbow, dancing through them with grace, inspecting, studying. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whisper, and his throat tightens.

“There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing.” You shake your head.

“There is… there has to be because I should you hate you, shouldn’t I?”

“You should.” You should do more than hate him, you should fear him, detest him, run from him.

“But I don’t. I don’t hate you, I’m not scared, and I don’t think it’s the safety net of the bargain. I don’t… I don’t understand it. I’m not frightened of you, but I am… I’m frightened of this.” Your palm flattens over your heart. He should tell you; he should confess-

but then he could lose you. 

“I should tell you to leave, but all I want to tell you is you’re not alone.” He tries to dig his heels into the ground against the magnetism dragging him downward, farther and farther until he’s holding your face, nearly nose to nose, counting your breaths, each speck in your irises. Decision and indecision hums down the bond, an endless tug of war you fight, a battle he wants so badly to win for you. You push up onto your tiptoes- 

and then crash your lips to his. 

It’s hungry, lush, teeming with life like your beloved forest. You unknowingly push it all through the bond, desire, confusion, worry, each feeling a chord, a note, trying to complete the song. He’s losing himself in it, veering off the path and diving headfirst into the unknown, too incensed to think for a moment before he wrests his discipline back into place.

Stop.

Control.

He rests his forehead against yours as he draws a measured breath.

His. He’ll show you what it means. To be his.

“You are perfect,” he presses a ghostly kiss to the corner of your mouth, “brilliant, kind, brave. You are far more than I deserve, a blessing I never knew could exist. A goddess I would worship my entire life.” An endless pool of hesitance and longing eddies in your eyes, a paradox he knows too well, and he prepares to step away, disappear, run. 

But you reach for him with a whisper.

“Worship me then.”

Fervor. Frenzy. It all explodes, detonates through him to you, whipping down the bond again and again, madness ebbing at the edge of his mind.

His. His, his, his. 

The two of you collide, and he’s rough, unintentionally, but it’s met blow for blow in a distorted dance, hands, fingers, mouths everywhere, his tongue against yours. It’s not enough, your touch under his shirt, traveling up to his shoulders, a leisurely stroll becoming a hectic sprint, encouraging him, knitting your fingers in his hair, nipping at his jaw. He plucks the ribbon tying the neckline of your dress together, your breasts spilling out into his hands.

“Azriel,” you’re whimpering, rolling your hips against the thigh he’s nudged between your legs, shivering as drags his thumbs across your nipples and follows with his teeth, sharp for the sweet, “don’t tease.”

Wild one. 

The shadows sweep everything off the worktable, and he lays you back, hiking the skirt up over your belly, dragging soft kisses on your skin beneath your navel as he spreads your knees wide, wide enough to accommodate his shoulders, exposing a pair of black panties, weeping pussy waiting for him underneath.

He has no patience and twists his fingers in the hem, tearing the fabric away from your body. “Cauldron,” he murmurs, running his knuckles up and down your seam, enjoying how you shiver each time he teases a little pressure against your clit. “Look at you-  beautiful everywhere.” Dawn in a drizzle, your scent makes his mouth water, and his cock aches, painfully heavy. This is not about him, it’s about you, as all things are now.

He'll have plenty of time, he prays, plenty of time inside you, plenty of time to bury his cock in your slick, warm cunt. 

He kneels. Kneels at the altar, kneels for you. This is veneration, the cleansing of his soul. He’ll make himself worthy, through fire, through ash.

You, you, it’s all you. 

The bond is insatiable, it shrieks like a banshee in the night, his side slamming against yours again and again, hungry and hunting, trying to crash through the sky-high brambles blocking its path.

His. His. Hishishishis- 

“Azriel,” you whimper, practically vibrating, fidgeting on the table, fingers gripping the edge. You go taut as he pulls your thighs over his shoulders and leans in to finally put his mouth on you, tasting, flicking his tongue over your swollen pearl. He’s too broad between your knees, the width of him leaving you completely exposed, every nerve ending on display, every drop of dew ready for him to drink. The size difference is startling, pleasing, and he rumbles his approval into your cunt, tracing your clit with a pointed tongue.

He wants to make you come so badly, but the fiend in him wants to play. “Can you take a finger?” You manage to rasp out a yes, and he feeds you one, unable to look at away at how you clench around it, pressing up past the knuckle, making you sing for him. “That’s it,” he works slowly, pushing and pulling as you arch on the table, toes curling against his shoulder blades, digging into his flesh, “good girl.” You’re tight, tight enough a second finger fills you, tight enough you squeak a little when he kicks them upward, searching for the spot, the one likely to make to go limp.

“Az,” you tug at his hair, and he kisses your pussy, mouth soaked, almost drowning in silken sap, fresh rain, salted earth, the strange and beautiful taste of you.

“Just a bit more,” he finds the textured velvet space and strokes, pinning your hip to the table with his free hand. “There it is, be still,” he croons, pleased when you listen, stammering something like yes and please, panting between syllables. Your nails scratch against the wood, walls clutching his fingers as you writhe, greedy, insatiable, wild as nature intended you to be.

He circles your clit with his tongue and your knees instinctively try to jolt closed, but he shakes his head, correcting you, commanding or coaching, lines too blurred to tell the difference. “Keep your legs open, sweet girl, nice and wide for me so I can make you come.”

 “P-please, please.” Your spine arches and you grip the hand on your hip tight, rising to the crest of the wave he knows is about to crash down. He balances you there, just on the swell, pushing harder on the spot inside you, listening to the way your breath catches. “Ah, fuck, it’s t-too much-” you kick your feet and hiccup, head rolled to the side, eyes wide and brighter than the full moon, tears starting to gather on your lashes.

He'll eat you alive, lick you clean right to the bone, inhale you. Swallow you. Keep you inside himself forever, keep you safe and sheltered. Hidden away.  

“I know, I know,” he coos. Normally he’d make you wait, drag it out until you were a mess far past this while he edged you into madness, but now is not the right time, the right moment.

Still. His blood yearns for it. For your tears, for the way you’d cry as he bounced you on his cock, as his body buried yours into his mattress, as he split you open, fucked you full of his cum.

But for now, this will have to do.

“Poor thing. Does it ache, sweetheart? Do you need to come?”

“Y-yeah, I need it please… I need… I need you.” I need you. If this is all he gets, if this is all he’s earned and it crumbles afterwards, he’ll hold onto those words, treasuring them with his last breath. I need you. He kisses your thigh and then sweeps over your clit, licking and lapping, coaxing your release until you break apart, clapping a hand over your mouth to smother your strangled scream. He praises you- my good girl, look at you, did so well, so perfect- and wrings every last drop of it from your body, only rising from between your legs once you’ve stopped twitching.

Your face is slack, sloped in a small delirious smile, and he licks his fingers clean, kisses the inside of your knee. “Are you with me?”

“Mhmm.” You try to hop down and end up stumbling forward, face planting directly into his chest. His arms come around you on instinct, cupping the back of your head, cradling it, skimming his nose along your hair and breathing as deep as he can, filling his lungs with forest and fauna, fresh snow in the twilight of the first winters day.

Don’t let go, don’t.

Everything in him is warm, at peace. Idyllic.

Your hand creeps across his thigh. “I can…”

“No,” he pulls your fingers to his mouth and presses a kiss to each one, slowly, savoring, “not today.”  An easy smile spreads across his face at the sight of your blown pupils, swollen lips, but the bond thrums with confusion, unease.

“Do you not want me to…”

“I want to have you in any way conceivable, witchling,” he strokes your cheek, “but not here.” Your worktable is in shambles, and as if you forgot, you grimace and huff, pulling away. “I can help-“

“No, it’s fine.” The things scattered to each end begin to arrange themselves, finding their rightful places, glass beakers and molten silver, crushed bundles of herbs and finely ground powders all returning to how they were as if nothing ever happened, tinge of damp foliage and peeling birch rolling around you in a cloud.

“Neat trick.”

“It’s not a trick,” you protest, affronted, and his stomach drops.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“ The side of your mouth quirks playfully, and he closes the gap, curls an arm around your waist as you place your palms on his chest, laughing. Just the brief sound of your happiness might kill him, stop his heart. He finds the curve of your ass instinctively and squeezes, kneads the flesh hard enough you suck in a sharp breath.

“Little brat.” He could take you right now. He wants to. Flip your dress up all over again and bend you over the table, pressing your cheek to the wood and kicking your legs open. You’d still be wet, wanting, pussy swollen and tight, milking his cock as he made you come on it until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer.

Not now. 

This, whatever this is, this step forward, this rebuilding of what could have been, is fragile, so incredibly tenuous it terrifies him. A small light trying to swell in a sea of sombrous fog, fighting for a chance to shine.

Anything could snuff it out.

“Our next… meeting won’t be until the very end of next week.” The sun is setting over the city, bathing it in a spectrum of opalescence orange-gold streaked with violet, it’s beauty paling in comparison to the brilliance of yours.

“Why?”

“I’m travelling.”  A ripple of tension cascades along his spine. He planned other things for this conversation, hoped to broach the subject of the Solstice ball and ask you to accompany him, but now…

“Where?” The bond rumbles in apprehension, echoing from both sides, his wings rustling in response.

“Spring.” Absolutely not.

“No.” You glare at him.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“I’m aware.” He should soften his tone, tread carefully, but the monster inside, the one fused to the bond overrides sensibility, caution, showing his true colors. Brute. Bastard. Illyrian. 

“I-“

“I’ll go with you.” Balance. You sigh.

“I am fine on my own, Azriel.”

“I know.” But he’s not. “As you said earlier, I still owe you an explanation.” That gives you pause, your scrutiny harsh and piercing, more lethal than the fine point of a blade.

Finally, you acquiesce with a nod. “You do.”

“Let’s use that time for it then.” Please. He’s always pleading, digging a deeper hole, dragging himself across broken glass.

The bond is tightrope, one strung from his soul to yours. He tugs it towards his side, trying to drag yours from the vadon, flush your indecipherable thoughts free from the forest of your mind.

Eventually, your hard-bitten expression turns conciliatory and though you cross your arms in front of your chest, you bite out an agreement, teeth gnashed, defiance glittering in your gaze.

“Fine.”

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Chapter 11

Summary: You try to fix your relationship with Wanda.

Yelena struggles to open her eyes. The constant beeping of the alarm annoys her, and she protests.

“Five more minutes” she pleads, reaching out to snooze it.

“Yelena. It’s me” a soft voice says, and she can feel fingers caressing her forehead. “It’s Mama”

“Mama, I don’t wanna go to school” Yelena says, earning a chuckle from Melina.

“You’re in the hospital, sweet girl” her mother says. “You almost drowned”

It all comes back to her in a rush. The feeling of sinking, the freezing water paralyzing her. Your voice, asking her to stay awake.

“Y/N. Is she ok? Where is she?” she tries to stand up, but her mother stops her. Natasha walks in that moment, locking eyes with her sister. “Something happened to Y/N”

“No. She’s ok” Natasha shakes her head.

“Then why do you look so worried? Don’t lie to me” Yelena asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m not lying, sestra. You just scared me, that’s all” Natasha promises, leaning her forehead against her sister’s.

She tries to pretend everything’s ok.

—

Wanda is in your arms, reassuring you. It’s overwhelming, to feel her, to hear her.

Knowing what you just did.

And it all comes crashing down.

The stress of the past months, the lack of sleep, your resentment towards your mother and your last encounter. A sob breaks out and you can’t stop crying, because you fucked up.

Wanda’s gonna hate you, she’s going to leave you.

You wish you had drowned, because it’s better to die than to hurt the only person you’ve truly ever loved.

“Wanda, I…” your voice shakes. Your girlfriend looks at you, alarmed. She’s never seen you this shaken.

“Baby, look at me. You’re safe. I’m here” she tries to calm you down, but your sobs intensify.

“What’s wrong?” Darcy appears behind you, trying to check for any internal injuries. “Hey, Y/N. You’re hyperventilating. You know what you need to do. Breathe. In and out. Ok. Just like I’m doing”

You allow Darcy’s voice to guide you, while Wanda stays by your side.

“I…” you stutter.

“I think we should keep her in observation for a bit. Maybe she’s in shock or had a concussion. Did you hit your head?” Darcy asks. “Ok, come with me. Wanda, we will be right back”

“Ok. Hey. It’s ok” she says against your lips. “I’m not leaving”

Wanda’s gonna leave when she finds out. And you won’t blame her. But as your thoughts spiral, and you begin to hyperventilate again, Darcy drags you to an exam room.

“What happened? Talk to me, Y/N”

“I should have died out there. She’s gonna leave me, Darcy” you cry out.

“Damn it, ok, breathe. Do you want me to give you… something? Just to calm you down”

“Ok. And page Carol. I need to talk to her”

“Yeah. Ok”

Carol joins you a couple of minutes later.

“Hey” she looks between you and Darcy, not knowing how much she can say.

“She asked me to page you. What the hell happened? She’s having a nervous breakdown” Darcy hisses. Add her to the list of people who have never seen you lose your shit.

“Just tell her” you mutter, looking away. You need someone to say it out loud, so it’s real. And you can understand how much you fucked up.

“I walked in on Natasha and Y/N kissing just now” Carol says, looking at you with pity in her eyes.

“What the hell were you…?” Darcy’s first instinct is to yell at you, but as she sees you shutting your eyes, she calms down. “Ok, just tell me what happened”

“I don’t know. I walked in to find some gauze for this scratch on my arm and then she was there and she kissed me and I didn’t pull away. Not at first”

“So she kissed you?” Darcy clarifies. “You didn’t go after Natasha?”

“No, I wasn’t… I thought she’d be worried about Yelena and when she came in, I assumed something bad had happened” you stumbled with your words. It’s all a blur.

“You weren’t kissing when I walked in. She had her hands in your neck but you were leaning back” Carol says.

“I don’t give a fuck, it doesn’t matter. Wanda won’t care. I fucked up, it’s over”

“I think it’s important to… make the distinction. That she went after you. If you tell Wand at all” Carol adds.

You sigh, looking at your best friend. The one person who has been a constant in your life, who knows how much you struggle. The only one who understands that Wanda is your world. And how devastated you’ll be if when you lose her.

“I think you should tell her” Darcy says. “I’m sorry, I do. I know you’re honest and you’d never be able to live with yourself if you don’t tell her”

Not only that, but knowing what you know about Wanda and how she got cheated in the past. You can’t lie to her.

Even if it means losing her.

“I’ll do whatever you want” Carol says, squeezing your hand. “I won’t ever judge you, Y/N. If you decide to keep it a secret, I’ll take it to my grave. I swear”

“Thanks, Carol” you sigh, wiping the tears that won’t stop. “I need to get home and calm down. She deserves to hear it when I’m sane and won’t make up a stupid excuse hoping she’ll forgive me”

“I really think you can get past this” Carol says before leaving the room.

“I hope so too” you try to smile.

But the truth is you’re not very optimistic.

—

The next day, you refuse to leave the room. You’re not sure if you catched a cold with the freezing water or it’s your body’s response to the stress of what happened, but you run a fever that knocks you down.

At one point, you dream about the encounter with your mother. But it’s not her outside the hospital. It’s Wanda, and she’s hitting you as she finds out you’re a liar.

Your eyes fly open and you sit up, running to the bathroom to throw up. As you look in the mirror, you understand one thing.

You’re not gonna be able to keep this up any longer. You have to tell Wanda.

She’s nowhere to be found, probably because it’s a school day and someone has to drive the kids. While you wait for her to return, you run a bath and try to clear your head.

How are you even starting?

When you hear Wanda come back, your stomach drops, but you push through, sitting in bed.

“There you are. How are you feeling, my love?” she greets with a smile.

“I’m ok, I guess” you manage to say, looking anywhere but her.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me” Wanda says, knowing something’s changed. Truthfully, she’s expecting to hear that this life and death experience made you realize you want something different in your life.

Someone else.

“I… Wanda. I’m so sorry” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I didn’t want it to happen”

“What? What are you talking about?”

With a deep breath, you finally say the words that will change your relationship forever.

“Natasha kissed me. We kissed. I mean, I didn’t look for her, she just walked in the room and then she was kissing me, but that doesn’t really make a difference, right?”

Wanda stays silent for a second, and then turns to leave the room.

“I’m going to kill her”

“Wanda” you catch up to her, stopping her at the top of the stairs. “Wait, please”

“No! Who does she think she is? Everything was fine between us, and then she comes and you’re pulling back. And now she thinks she can kiss you and I won’t fight back? Seems like someone should put her in her place”

“I don’t care about her” you plead, taking Wanda’s hand.

“You’re mine”

“Of course I am” you agree, trying to pull Wanda into a hug. She relents, but you can tell she’s tense and struggling with your closeness. “Wanda, I love you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to happen, I’ll do anything to make it right, just please, please…”

“Did you kiss her back?” Wanda pushes you away suddenly.

“I… don’t know. It happened so fast. I didn’t even think. I pulled away”

“But before that, did you kiss her back?” Wanda insists, looking at you expectantly.

“Wanda, I don’t know. She just came out of nowhere and I was trying to recover from almost drowning”

“I think… I think you should leave” she interrupts you. “You told me you were different, that you’d never lie to me”

“I didn’t…”

“Please, leave” she raises her hand to stop you. “I just can’t look at you right now”

Looking down, you nod. As you walk back to pack a bag with clothes and other stuff, Wanda stays rooted to her spot in the hallway.

You want to say something, but words are not enough to convey everything you feel. “Sorry” is an understatement. “I love you”? It feels like you lost the right to say that.

So, you walk out of the house, and drive to a hotel, wondering if it’s really that easy to lose your entire world.

—

The next days are hell.

You really wish you’d drown that day on the river.

There’s a hotel close to the hospital, and you stay there, wallowing in self pity and regret. You ignore everyone’s text and calls, because you’ll only answer one person.

She never reaches out.

“Hey, bud” Darcy greets when you get to work after two days. “I take it it didn’t go well”

“Nope” is all you say, not wanting to talk about it at all. You need work, distractions. Or a bus than runs you over. Whichever is fine.

“I’m here if you want to talk” is all she says, knowing you’d rather not.

“Thanks”

Kate greets you, a little too cheerful for your liking. Maybe it’s because she has the ER for herself. Speaking of which, you don’t even know if Yelena was discharged.

“Is Belova ok?” you say, looking at all the reports you need to sign.

“Yes, she left yesterday. And, uh… Doctor Romanoff was asking for you” Kate hesitates.

“I’m not speaking to Romanoff under any circumstances. If she asks again, tell her I said she can go to hell” you answer with a harsh tone.

“Maybe I could say you’re very busy?”

“Whatever keeps her away from me” you agree, walking to the entrance as an ambulance parks outside.

It’s a hectic day and you appreciate it. You also lose track of how many times you go out to smoke. At some point, you give up waiting for Wanda to call you.

Actually, now you don’t want her to reach out at all. You’re not ready to hear her say it’s over, so at least now you can pretend there’s a chance you’ll get past this.

“Did you sleep at all?” Carol says when she sees you next morning.

“For a half hour, maybe”

“Listen, you need to…”

But whatever well intended advice she’s about to give is interrupted by Fury.

“Doctor Romanoff would like a word”

“I’m busy”

“Not for her, you’re not” he cuts you off, practically pushing you in the direction of a conference room.

This is a new low, using Fury to talk to you.

“Doctor Romanoff, I’m so sorry, as you can imagine our Head of Trauma is busy” Fury says, moving so you can step forward. “Meet Doctor Y/L Y/L/N”

Wait, what?

A brunette approaches you with a wide smile. She has the same nose as Natasha, and even if her eyes are more hazel than green, you definitely see the resemblance in the determined stare.

“I can’t thank you enough for saving my daughter’s life”

Right. That Doctor Romanoff.

“Just doing my job” you say, hoping Natasha won’t join you.

“She’s eager to get back to work. Yelena said you’re a fantastic teacher” the woman says, smiling.

“Well, she definitely has a lot to learn” you say, which makes both people in the room turn to you.

“Doctor Y/L/N” Fury warns. But you don’t give a fuck. You want them gone from the hospital and the city and your life.

“Yelena’s good, but she could be better. That reckless behavior almost got me killed. She also needs to move faster and be more precise. Her work can be sloppy”

“Thank you, Doctor Y/L/N. That would be all” Fury cuts you off.

You nod, avoiding Melina’s stare as you leave the room.

Unfortunately for you, one of her daughters is waiting outside.

“Can we talk?” Natasha says. You ignore her, walking back to the ER. “What? Seriously?”

She grabs your wrist and you finally turn around.

“Don’t. I have absolutely nothing to say to you, Romanoff”

“What? Did your girlfriend forbid you to talk to me?”

“You don’t think about her or talk about her or anything related to Wanda. Stay away from me” you say, opening the door. Of course she follows you before you can lock yourself in, blocking the only way out.

“I didn’t think you’d be such a fucking coward, Y/N” she accuses you.

“Excuse me?”

“You kissed me back”

“I did not!” you kick the chair next to you, groaning. “I had just seen my abusive mother and almost drowned saving your sister. Do you really think I had the mental capacity to act rationally? I was still on fight or flight, Natasha”

“Lie to yourself all you want, but you’re not gonna lie to me. I know the way you look at me”

“Which is?”

“Like you’re picturing me naked”

You scoff at that, looking away.

“I don’t hear you denying it” she challenges, stepping closer.

“Don’t”

“If you were really sure about your feelings, you’d tell me to go to hell and move on. You wouldn’t be looking around the room, desperate to find a way out” Natasha says, moving closer and closer, until you’re inches apart. “Because if we stay this close, you know damn well that we’re gonna end up fucking each other”

“Please, stop” you say, trying to push past her. Natasha takes your wrists, and pulls you closer, letting you decide.

And you pull away. You do.

“Don’t mistake attraction with devotion. Wanda is all I want and need. I’m not playing games. Stay away from me”

You try to look composed as you leave the room, but in your mind, you know you hesitated.

A fraction of a second, but it was hesitation nonetheless.

—

Carol finds you outside the hospital, smoking as usual.

“Though shift?”

“You could say that”

You stare at her as she takes the cigarrette from your hands.

“Don’t tell Maria” she warns you and you laugh.

“Nu-uh, you need to be on your best behavior. One of us has to have a happy ending”

“Did you tell her?” Carol asks.

“Yeah. She kicked me out. Which is a very nice reaction. If I were her, I would have run me over repeatedly with her car” you sigh, lighting another one. “And now Natasha’s on my ass, saying I can’t deny that I have feelings for her too, when all I’ve done is be friendly”

“Ok, don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N, but it was obvious you two were flirting” Carol says. You stay quiet, and since you don’t argue, the woman takes it a sign to continue. “Look, when Maria came back… I hesitated too. I never told you this, but I wasn’t just trying to move on from her. I liked you, your committment to work. How kind you are. Honestly, with a little more time I could have seen myself in a different situation”

“But?”

“But Maria came back and I made a choice. What I’m saying is… I don’t think it’s unnatural for people to be attracted to others, even if you’re in a relationship. We seek connection, and surgeons have a fucked up schedule and life that only other doctors understand. Of course you felt something”

“Natasha is… a challenge. She’s funny and stubborn and quick witted. She doesn’t give a fuck about anything except work. It’s like an adventure” you finally admit out loud, knowing Carol understands. “But Wanda is my family. And I can’t lose that”

“There you go. I think admitting that you feel attraction is how you move past this. The important thing is if you act on it” Carol insists.

You think back to the encounter you had with Natasha just now.

You pulled back.

This time, she didn’t just kiss you. She gave you a choice. And you made the decision to step away.

That’s gotta count for something. Right?

“Thanks, Carol” you sigh, feeling better for the first time in days. To your surprise, Darcy comes next.

“Is it my turn now? I’m freezing, Danvers” she complains.

“Turn for what?”

“Well, this is an intervention” Carol explains, leaving the spot next to you so Darcy can sit.

“An intervention? Next to the trash? Really?” you say, looking around.

“You practically live here with all the smoking. Which, by the way, stops now” Darcy says, throwing away the pack you’re holding. “Now, as you know I briefly considered a career in Psychiatry. So I’m going to give you my analysis”

“Ugh, I hate this” you mutter. In spite of everything you’ve been through, you’ve never once considered going to therapy.

You have a job and a life. You’re obviously fine.

“Ready? I’m about to tell you some harsh truths. You can cry if you want to” Darcy says, settling. “You don’t believe you deserve good things. Of course, your mother showing up out of nowhere didn’t help. You’re self sabotaging because you think you don’t deserve Wanda. It’s a self fulfilled propechy. And it’s frankly stupid. You don’t need to fight your demons on this one. Just tell Romanoff to piss off and go get your girl. Speak up, tell her how you feel. This passive shit of wallowing in self pity is beneath you”

“Wow, anything else?” you say, trying not to be offended.

“Yes” Darcy says, looking at you. “You’re my best friend. I want you to be happy. Don’t cry” she snaps when tears roll down your cheeks.

“You just told me I could cry!” you complain, laughing at her.

“Yeah, well. I changed my mind. Now come on” Darcy nudges your side. “I’m freezing”

—

It’s uncharacteriscally quiet lately. No one says anything, but Pietro can feel it.

Your absence is the most obvious sign that something’s wrong.

Wanda can lie to the kids and tell them you’re working day shifts, but Pietro is not easily fooled. He never hears you come in, or leave.

You haven’t been home in a week.

“What’s going on?” he finally asks when Wanda’s doing the dishes, the twins fast asleep.

“What do you mean?” she plays dumb, without turning to look at her brother.

“She’s not working. Did you fight?”

“Leave it” Wanda says.

“No. You’re obviously not fine and I can imagine how Y/N’s doing”

“Y/N is very busy fucking that Russian” Wanda spits out, finally turning to look at her brother.

“You mean she cheated on you?”

“That woman… kissed her. And now, I kicked her out and heaven knows what she must be thinking. It’s perfect for Natasha, isn’t it? She didn’t have to try that hard to break us apart”

“Ok, so it was a kiss? Or more? I think you need to start over” Pietro asks, sitting at the kitchen counter and leaving his crutches against the wall.

So, Wanda tells him everything. How you began to spend more time at the hospital, and she got jealous and pushed you away as response. How her insecurities and your attitude made things harder and put you through a rough patch.

“But… she told you right after it happened?” Pietro tries to understand the timeline. “And it was just a kiss?”

“It’s not about the kiss. It’s about swearing nothing was going on, making me feel like I was acting crazy and…”

“How do you know she didn’t think the same thing?” his brother says, which makes her stop talking. Wanda shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe she thought they were friends. The thing is, she was honest, Wanda”

“Yeah, but…”

“You can’t let your past influence your future. I know he hurt you and it’s not easy to trust people. But not everything’s black and white. Do you honestly think Y/N was trying to hurt you?”

“Of course not” she says, shaking her head. “I just don’t know how I will get over this…”

“So it’s better to pretend nothing’s wrong?”

Pietro couldn’t say it without hurting his sister, but she was always so afraid of taking risks. And now she took the easy way out.

“Look, avoiding the issue won’t solve anything. If you want to fix it, do it. If you really can’t get past what happened, you at least need some closure” he says, his tone becoming softer as Wanda’s eyes well up with tears.

“I just hate this. I wish we could just go back to how everything was” Wanda sobs, covering her mouth. “And I miss her so much”

“Maybe you should tell her that” Pietro struggles to stand up, and goes to hug his sister. “It will be ok, sestra”

—

It’s kind of shitty to be happy over having a lot of injured people on your shift. But you’re so exhausted you’re positive you’ll pass out the minute you get home.

Well, the hotel.

That minor correction stings.

Your room’s a mess, but you’ll clean it up after you get some rest.

There’s a knock on the door right as you plop down in bed and you sigh.

“I don’t need any room cleaning, thank you!”

“It’s Wanda”

You get whiplash at those words, running to open the door.

“Hi” you say, trying to not sound too anxious. There’s a pang of guilt as you notice the bags under Wanda’s eyes.

“Hi. Can I come in?”

“Sure. Yeah” you step aside. “Uh, sorry about the mess. Work’s been crazy”

“So listen… I think we need to talk” she says, looking back at you.

“Oh”

So she’s here to break up with you. You stay quiet, urging her to continue.

“I… I’m not happy with this situation. Honestly, I really wished you had set boundaries with that woman from the start. I don’t know if you were just being friendly or a part of you was attracted to her at all”

“Wanda, I…”

“I don’t think I’m interested in knowing the answer to that. But I do know that we’re not gonna fix this by staying apart” she says, crossing her arms.

“Oh, so you wanna fix… I thought you were here to break up with me” you sigh, your shoulders relaxing at the realization that she’s giving you another chance.

“I have some conditions”

“Very reasonable. And my answer is yes to everything” you hurry to say, scared that she’ll change her mind.

“You sure you don’t wanna hear them? What if one of them is doing the laundry for a month?” she teases and seeing her smile is like a breath of fresh air.

“Wanda, I’ll cook forever if you ask me to”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s not like we can eat pancakes every day”

You both smile at that, and you let her take the first step, reaching for your hand.

“Pack your things, and I’ll meet you back home” she says, giving you a light squeeze.

“Ok, babe” you nod, wanting to kiss her. But she pulls away before you can lean forward, smiling.

You really hope there’s a way you can fix everything.

Because losing Wanda is simply not something you can deal with.

—

The first week back is definitely challenging.

As soon as you get home the boys run to hug you and you try really hard not to cry. You thought you’d never see them again. Pietro gives you a knowing look but keeps whatever he has to say to himself.

That first night you take the kids out to the arcade and to eat pizza, and though you’re a little disappointed when Wanda declines to join you, you understand she must be exhausted.

When you come home, you find a blanket and a pillow in the sofa. The message is pretty clear, but you take it without complaining and sleep there.

It was unrealistic to expect everything would be back to normal right away.

“How’s work?” Wanda asks one morning when you’re getting some coffee, ready to leave.

“It’s better. We’re not as short staffed anymore. Why? Do you need me to take some time off? I’ll talk to Fury” you hurry to say, desperate to prove your worth to Wanda.

“No, that’s fine. Uh… is she still there? I mean do you still have to take that course?” she asks, looking away.

“Oh. No. I mean, yeah, she’s still there but we don’t talk and I haven’t joined the last sessions. Darcy just brings me up to speed later”

“I don’t want you getting into trouble. I can manage if you have to be there” Wanda says, curious about your answer.

“It’s fine, love. I’m busy in the ER anyway” you appease her, reaching for a Pop-Tart. As you leave, you kiss her cheek out of pure habit, too busy with picking up your things to remember Wanda’s been avoiding physical contact. “Catch you later, have a good day”

“Yeah, you too” Wanda’s hand goes to the spot you just kissed, blushing.

Your day starts as usual, and you make sure you don’t leave the ER unless it is absolutely necessary. Thankfully, Yelena is eager to do any task you assign to her. That way, you avoid running into her sister.

At some point, you do have to go to the front desk to deliver some schedules and signed discharges.

“We have missed you these past sessions” someone says behind you.

You recognise Melina’s voice and answer without looking up.

“ER is very hectic”

You think that’s the end of the conversation until she asks something that almost makes you turn.

“So, which one of my daughter’s pissed you off?”

The only sign of surprise you show is how you stop writing for a second, but then you keep going.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand”

“I think you do, Doctor Y/L/N”

“Excuse me” you say, saved by your pager.

Melina hangs around, waiting for you to come back and finish the conversation, or find either Natasha or Yelena to get them to fess up.

The woman is looking around when a brunette joins her in the front desk, greeting the receptionist.

“I’ll page Doctor Y/L/N”

“Are you a patient of hers?” Melina says, looking at the woman up and down.

“I’m her girlfriend” Wanda answers, feeling like there’s something familiar about the woman.

“Oh, Y/N’s girlfriend. Yes, we’ve heard about you. She’s such a good teacher to my daughter. I’m Doctor Melina Romanoff”

Of course, Romanoff. No wonder Wanda’s gut was telling her to get out of there.

“Y/N’s teaching Natasha?” Wanda says, confused. She thought it was the other way around.

“No, Yelena. She’s working in the ER”

“Oh, good. There’s more than one of you” Wanda grumbles, wondering if Yelena flirts with you too.

“What was that, dear?” Melina says, confused.

“Oh, nothing”

Thankfully, you show up, smiling at Wanda.

“Hey, come here” you say, dragging her away from Melina.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wanda asks as soon as the woman is out of earshot. You tilt your head, confused. “You’re teaching her sister. The whole family is here”

“Oh, that. Fury made me do it. Trust me, if it were up to me they’d all be long gone” you mumble.

Wanda’s taken aback by your bitter tone. No matter how annoying someone can be, you’re rarely unkind. It seems like they’re really testing your patience.

“Ok, well. I just wanted to drop off these cookies for Darcy”

“For Darcy and none for me?” you pout, taking the container.

“Yours are at home” Wanda says, and you’re busy checking your pager so you don’t notice Wanda looking over your shoulder, eyes locking with Natasha’s.

Wanda pulls you down, meeting your lips in a kiss that is not at all appropriate in the middle of your shift.

“Try not to be late tomorrow” she says and all you can do is nod, taken aback by the sudden display of affection. It only makes sense when you turn around, Natasha staring at you. Rubbing the back of your neck, you walk past her, only looking back once to wave your girlfriend goodbye.

Wanda stands there a little bit longer, arms crossed as she glares at Natasha. When the Russian gets annoyed, she drops her folder and makes her way over to Wanda.

She doesn’t have a chance to say anything, as Kate comes out of nowhere, dropping her coffee in the middle of both women.

“Oh, shoot” she says, not sounding sorry at all.

The sudden intrusion makes Natasha walk back and leave the reception, annoyed at having to keep to herself all the things she wants to say to your girlfriend.

Wanda, on the other hand, leaves the hospital with a smile on her face.

Kate is on the fence about telling you of the almost argument between your girlfriend and Doctor Romanoff.

To those close to you, is very obvious your relationship with the other surgeon went south, and considering how Wanda looked at Natasha, Kate has a very good guess around the reason why.

“I miss Boston a little bit” Yelena is talking your ear off while you check some X-rays. “Mama and Natasha are going back today and I wish I could too. And by the way, why is she acting strange around you?”

“Page Ortho and tell them we have a surgical case. Run lab work for the patient” you ignore her. “Questions?”

“Yes, did you and Natasha fight?”

“About the case, Belova” you clarify, turning to leave.

“Oh. No. So what happened?”

“Bishop, the case is yours now” you snap, annoyed at her insistence. You already had to deal with her mother’s questioning today, and it ran your patience thin. “Belova, you are in charge of post ops” the blonde opens her mouth to protest and you look up. “Reconsider what you’re about to say or I’ll send you to the morgue with Vidal”

Yelena nods, but you can see she’s hurt. A part of you feels guilty, but then you remember her family is incredibly wealthy and they could simply pull their heads out of their asses and hire a new Head of Trauma in Boston.

The rest of your shift is semi chaotic, until the end when you have to stay longer. Wanda doesn’t respond to your text when you explain why you’ll be late, so you’re in a hurry to leave.

“What the hell is your problem?” a voice chases you down the hall, making several people turn. You look over your shoulder at Natasha.

“Can I help you?” you ask in a bored tone, gathering your stuff to leave.

“Whatever happened between us is our business. Don’t be an asshole to my sister because it got into your head that I’m the one that screwed up your perfect relationship”

“Well, if your sister doesn’t like it she can go back to Boston, as I hope you’ll do soon and without any plans to return” you spit out, taking your bag to leave.

“I was so wrong about you” Natasha says when you walk past her.

“I’ll find a way to sleep at night” you mock, but then Natasha hits you where she knows will hurt.

“Yeah. In the couch, I bet”

Her mocking tone makes you turn.

“What a great relationship it must be, if she only likes you when you do what she wants”

Whatever you are about to say is stuck in your throat, so you turn around and leave.

The words repeat like an echo in your head until you get home.

Figuring Wanda must be in the bedroom, you go up and knock.

“Hey, sorry I had to stay longer. I texted you”

“Yeah, I got the text” Wanda nods with certain indifference. So, she’s back to being distant.

“Well, I’ll just grab a change of clothes” you say.

Wanda turns to look at you. Something takes over when she imagines Natasha kissing you, watching as you undress yourself.

Without warning, she turns you around, kissing you.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, trying to get her to slow down. Instead of replying, she pushes you to the bed, barely giving you time to react when she straddles your lap. “Wanda, maybe we should…”

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re mine” when she doesn’t get a reply, she pushes forward. “Are you gonna let me fuck you or not?”

All you can do is nod, and she takes off your pants and underwear. You’re conflicted, because Wanda doesn’t seem to be in a right state of mind, pushed by her insecurities.

And then you feel her tongue on your clit, any coherent thought pushed to the back of your mind as she laps at your folds. Your hands go through her hair, but she pushes them away with a slap.

She doesn’t give you time to protest, moving up until she kisses you. The taste of yourself renders you speechless, except for the moan that leaves your lips when Wanda pushes two fingers inside you.

“Babe, slow…” you plead, overstimulated.

“No, you’re gonna take it” she shuts you up, biting your lip.

Her hand moves faster and you cling to the comforter, moaning until you’re pushed over the edge, squeezing her fingers as you come.

“Wanda” you say, trying to catch your breath. But she stands up immediately. “Where are you going?”

“To pick up the kids”

“Can I come with you?”

“Stay” she answers, leaving the room.

You plop down in bed, the rush of your orgasm quickly forgotten at her cold demeanor.

This wasn’t about pleasure, it was about jealousy, as everything seems to be lately.

She only likes you when you do what she wants.

You take a shower and drift off, appreciating how comfortable the bed is compared to the sofa.

The sound of footsteps and laughs wakes you up, Billy and Tommy entering in a rush to the bedroom.

“You’re here!” they say, jumping on the bed. Lately, they always seem anxious to know exactly where you are, as if they sense you’ll disappear without a trace.

It’s as endearing as it is heartbreaking.

“Hey, there” you laugh when they pile on you, shouting about their day at school. “Ok, ok, one at a time, kids!”

“Boys, no shoes on the bed!” Wanda walks in a minute later, making them go get changed for soccer practise. “Why did you let them do that?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s been a week, of course you’re gonna be in the dog house. But honestly, even when you’re not doing anything, Wanda seems to find a way to be mad at you.

“Why don’t I take the kids to soccer practise?” you offer, thinking she couldn’t possibly be upset about that.

“Pietro has physical therapy, you drive him and I’ll take the kids to soccer”

“Or we can all drive to the rehab clinic and then to practise” you say.

“Ok, I don’t have time to argue. If you’re not gonna be of help, stay out of the way” she snaps, which makes your eyes widen in shock.

“I’ll drive Pietro” you mutter, going out of the room.

You wait for him in the backyard, throwing Sparky’s ball and relaxing when he gets tired and sits next to you. At least someone in this house still likes you.

“What happened now?” Pietro asks from the backseat, and you shrug your shoulders, starting the car.

“She’s just in a mood. I guess it’ll pass”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Come on, no one can stay angry for that long”

Can she?

“Y/N, she hasn’t spoken to our mother in three years because of what happened with Dad” Pietro says.

“Ok, but she lives in a different country and this was a very serious subject…” you try to excuse her.

“Listen, I love Wanda, but it’s hard for her to let go of things. Unless you push a little. Mom’s giving her space, but you live with her and you shouldn’t be hiding forever. We all make mistakes”

“Well, look at you, being a couples counselor and all. You have a backup plan in case snowboarding is out of the picture” you say, opening the door for him.

In a split second, you decide to drive back to practise. Even if Wanda doesn’t want to see you, you want to be there for the boys.

To your surprise, Wanda is laughing alongside a tall man, her hand going to his arm. You walk around the field, standing next to other parents and looking over at her.

They’re both engaged in conversation, standing a bit away from the crowd. Wanda only notices your presence when Billy runs by and waves at you.

“Hey” she walks over to you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick up Pietro in a bit, I just wanted to see the kids play”

“Yeah, that’s fine”

“So, who’s that?” you say, referring to the man she was talking to.

“Oh, he’s Richard. His son joined recently”

“No missus?”

“They’re separated. So, you know, sometimes he’s here and sometimes she is the one driving Daniel”

“Nice. Glad they make it work” you comment. Tommy waves at you because he’s having issues with his shin guard. “I’ll go”

You jog to him, smiling as you walk past Sharon.

“There you go, kiddo” you ruffle his hair, encouraging him to go back into the field.

“Friend of Wanda’s?” a voice says and you turn around. The so called Richard is smiling at you. “She’s great”

The way he says great makes you want to punch him in the face.

“Yeah. She is”

“Do you know if she’s dating anyone?”

“Me” you say, frowning at him. “Why? Wanna sell us a time share or something?”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry” he turns red. “She didn’t mention you at all”

“Huh. Funny. Just moved in together, it probably slipped her mind” you say, offering your hand. “Doctor Y/L Y/L/N, nice to meet you…”

“Richard”

“Dick” you say, punching his arm a little too harsh as you walk away. “Pleasure”

Asshole.

“Your friend’s nice” you mutter, walking past Wanda. “I’m picking up Pietro”

She didn’t mention you at all.

Funny, you can’t shut up about Wanda but she forgets you exist when someone new shows up.

Fine, whatever.

“What now?” Pietro says, sighing. It must be written all over your face when you go back to take him home.

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything” you defend yourself.

This time he doesn’t push it, probably because he’s too tired from the physical exertion.

You help him out, walk Sparky and then, once the kids are back, spend the rest of the afternoon with them going over homework. Whatever it takes to be away from Wanda.

During dinner, you stay focused in your food and only speak when the kids ask you something.

“Are you gonna be home this weekend?” Billy asks and you nod, smiling when he gets excited.

“Yeah, buddy. Wanna do something fun? We can go catch that movie you wanted”

“Oh” they both turn to look at each other. “We went yesterday with Daniel and his dad”

“Mom told us you wouldn’t have time to go to the movies” Tommy apologizes, looking sorry for something that’s not remotely his fault.

“We can go do something else, kids. Anything you want” you promise, smiling at them.

“Did Darcy like the cookies?” Wanda asks, trying to asses how pissed you are.

“Sure” you mutter, looking anywhere but her. “You know what, I’m not that hungry so I’m going to start cleaning the kitchen”

As you leave, Pietro starts to speak Sokovian in what you think is a reprimand, but who the hell knows.

Everyone else finishes their food and you clean everything, being deliberately slow to avoid Wanda. But there she is, leaning against the counter while you load the dishwasher.

“Wanna come to bed?”

“Nope”

“You don’t have a leg to stand on, Y/N. I was just being nice to Richard”

“He didn’t know about me” you snap, turning to glare at her, “And he wants to ask you out, so don’t let me get in the way. Maybe your next outing should be without the kids”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“I never once hid you. Everyone I work with knows about you. Everyone I meet, that’s the first thing I tell them. My girlfriend and my kids, because I love them. And I love you”

“It’s just hard for me not to…”

“Not to what?”

“Not to hate you! For hurting me. For lying” she says, looking away.

“That’s fair. If you want to hate me, by all means, Wanda. But then be honest if you think this will always be the case and let me go. Because right now? It hurts a lot more to stay than to walk away”

She bites her lip, fidgeting with her hands as you walk past her.

As you’ve done every night for the past week and a half, you lie down on the couch, wondering if things will ever get better between you.

—

The weekend was nice, if only because you got to spend time with the kids. You asked Wanda if she wanted to join once, more out of politeness than genuine desire for her to come along.

The first time she made an excuse about having to work on the book. So you went to the mini golf course, the arcade, to get some pizza and then buy a couple of videogames.

Billy and Tommy were very happy and that’s all that mattered to you.

On Sunday you went grocery shopping, turning a blind eye when they sneaked a couple of chocolates. There were some nice flowers, so you decided to get them, just to have something that made you smile.

You weren’t planning on sticking around for dinner, having a night shift. As you’re having a snack in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone, Wanda walks in, unsure if she should say something to you.

She’s very aware that with her hot and cold attitude she’s done her share of damage to your relationship.

Wanda’s never been good at forgiving people.

“You’ll spoil your apetite” she tries to joke when she sees you eating a couple of cookies.

“I have a night shift” you smile, briefly looking away from your phone.

“The flowers are nice”

“Yeah, I liked them too” you agree.

Your girlfriend wanders around the kitchen, trying to come up with something that can be remotely interpreted as a peace offering.

Looking at the calendar, she notices a circled date two days from now.

“Did we have plans for anything?” she asks, trying to remember what the date means.

“It’s ten months since our first date” you say, looking away.

“Oh. Ten months? Time flies”

Yeah, it does. Not in a million years would you have guessed that things would go so bad in the course of a few weeks.

Even the ring you were so excited about is now stored away in a box in the garage.

“We should do something” Wanda says. “We could go to dinner to that restaurant you like”

“If you want to” you say, unsure if her mood will be the same two days from now. Hell, maybe she’ll go back to hating your guts by then and it will be an awkward dinner.

“Yes” she hurries to say, standing in front of you when you get up to wash your cup. “I’d want to… I think I’d like to just… talk like we used to. You know?”

Of course you do. That’s all you’ve wanted since this nightmare began but every time you think you’re making progress she pushes you away. And you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Ok. I’ll make the reservation” you agree. “I have to go now. Have a good night”

“Have a good shift at work”

You go up to take your bag and say bye to the kids.

“See you Tuesday after school”

“You promise?” Billy says and you nod, offering your pinky. He links it with yours and you both laugh.

“Be good, kiddos”

At the door, Wanda’s waiting with some food.

“In case you get hungry”

You nod, taking the container and smiling as you walk past her.

Wanda wishes she had the courage to go after you and kiss you. But all she does is watch as you drive away.

—-

“Where’s Belova?” you say, annoyed. She’s supposed to be here and it’s only you and Kate in the ER.

“She said she had a family emergency. And that she’d tried to be here early in the morning”

Right. You can afford to skip a night shift if your mother is a reknowned surgeon.

“Well, go get some rest and if anything urgent comes up I’ll let you know” you say, not feeling very tired.

The brunette nods, grateful for the chance to sleep. Ever since Yelena joined you, she’s been staying longer in the hospital to get whatever cases she can get. You appreciate her commitment.

For once, it’s an easy shift. The worse that comes is a group of college kids that are drunk, one of them breaking his nose as he fell.

“I’m kinda hungry” you tell Barnes as you finish up with the young man.

“Go, I’ll stay here”

“Would you like to join me? I have plenty of food” you offer, suddenly realising you’ve never spoken to Barnes beyond work. He thinks about it for a second and then nods.

“Sounds nice”

You take it as an acheivement, going to a break room where you split Wanda’s lasagna in half, while Barnes comes back with a couple of sodas.

“Thanks… sorry, I call you Barnes, but is there other name…?”

“Bucky” he says, sitting down.

“Alright. Bucky” you nod, following suit. You both eat in silence for a moment.

“You’re a good cook”

“That’s my girlfriend. I can only do some decent pancakes” you admit.

“Oh, is that the woman that came the other day?” he asks and you nod, surprised that he noticed.

“Yeah, that’s her” you say, suddenly remembering everything that’s happened in the past weeks. “She has two kids”

“I like kids” he says, which makes you chuckle. He raises an eyebrow, amused. “What?”

“I’m sorry, but you’re always so serious. I can’t imagine you with kids. I’m being rude” you mumble, watching as his smiles widens.

“Nah, I get it. I’m just not good at making friends. And it feels like everyone knows each other already”

“I’m sorry, I guess we should have made more of an effort to include you” you nod, thinking that it must be awful to be left out. “Tell you what, we’ll all go out for drinks one of these days. There’s a bar close to the hospital”

“Maybe”

“There’s a pool table” you insist and he smiles.

“Ok, yeah” he finally relents and you celebrate. Once you’re done with the food, he hands over a chocolate bar. You appreciate the gesture, and munch on it while holding back a yawn.

“Go get some sleep, I’ll page when there’s something” Bucky says.

“Thanks. This was nice” you pat his shoulder, happy that you got to speak to him.

You’re paged a couple of times but manage to get a few hours of sleep.

The next time someone calls you is to go to the third floor, to a conference room. Of course it’s Melina Romanoff.

“Yes?”

“Oh, good, you’re here. Have a seat, please” she speaks, completely indifferent to your mood.

“I have work” you refuse the offer, but she’s clearly not speaking until you do as she says. You sigh, relenting. Maybe she’s about to rip you to shreds for being an ass to Yelena.

“You know what I like?”

Dancing in the moonlight like a witch?

“No, not really”

“Honesty. Someone who doesn’t care about anything other than the truth. And skills” you remain impassive and then she takes off her glasses, smiling at you. “All those things you said about Yelena are true. She has great potential, but she’s missing the drive. It’s about consistency. And hard work”

“Yeah, and yet she skipped the night shift”

“That was my bad. Her father is in town” she says, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Anyway, the people who have worked for me are always too afraid to tell me the truth. Because they want me to like them. But not you. Which is why…”

Melina extends a letter. An offer letter to be the Head of Trauma at Romanoff Medical.

“I’m not interested” you say, noticing the pay is triple what you currently make.

“And why’s that?”

“My family’s here”

“Hum, I see. We can arrange for relocation. You’ll have enough money to buy a beautiful house”

She’s probably referring to the sign up bonus you get if you accept the job.

“Wanda would never want to move. I appreciate the offer” you hand back the paper and she stops you.

“How long have you been with this girl?”

“Ten months”

“And it’s good? There’s a future?” she insists.

“Maybe”

A month ago you would have said that absolutely there was a future. Now, it’s very uncertain.

“Ok, well… sometimes we have to make choices. This is one of those times, Doctor Y/L/N. You work for Romanoff Medical and everyone will know your name. They’ll try to steal you and I’ll double your pay at some point to get you to stay”

“The money isn’t…”

“It should be. Because you’re good at your job, one of the best I’ve seen. At least take the letter and read it carefully. We’re going back to Boston tonight but call me if you change your mind”

“Thanks” you nod, hearing your pager. You fold the letter and put it on the pocket of your lab coat, finding Kate in the ER struggling with a doppler ultrasound.

You smile at the pregnant woman that is waiting, looking worried.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. What brings you to the ER today?”

“I’m having some pain, and contractions but we’re only at 35 weeks. It can’t possible be…” the woman says.

“We’re having twins, boy and girl” her husband explains.

“Congratulations” you smile. “Twins are fun. You’ll have to get two of everything for Christmas, though”

“Do you have twins?” the woman asks, trying to forget about the pain.

“Two boys. Here” you check for the heartbeats, but notice the woman’s water broke, blood mixed with the fluid. “We’re doing an emergency C-section. Don’t worry, we’ll take great care of you and your babies”

Kate pages OBGYN and Maria for the delivery of the babies.

“Everything will be fine, Miss Hardwick” you say, introducing the surgeons. “Your husband is on his way to the OR, the nurses are helping him scrub in”

“Tell me about your boys” she asks when the procedure begins. You smile, looking at her.

“Well, Billy likes science and art. So I don’t know if he’ll be a scientist or an artist like his mom. Tommy is really fast, the fastest boy in the soccer team”

“Two moms?” the woman says and you tense up, unsure if she’ll have a problem with it. “Your house must be very clean”

Maria and you laugh at that.

“You know, it is. But she does the cooking and I try to keep everything neat, and help with homework and taking out the dog”

“Honey, I think I want to be a lesbian” the woman says, and her husband looks around.

“It’s just the anesthesia talking, she’s joking” you calm him down, smiling.

After an hour of surgery, you admire the new family, though the babies will have to spend a few days in the NICU.

“Thanks, Maria” you smile at the woman as you scrub out. “I’m glad they’re all ok”

“We just need to be careful with the post op, can your team handle it?”

“Yeah, of course” you say.

Yelena finally shows up, with a million apologies about how her dad surprised her with a visit from Russia. You decide her punishment should be sticking to the Hardwick’s post op.

“This was a high risk pregnancy. You’re gonna be checking up on her by the hour, no excuses. Can you handle that?” you say.

“You got it”

“Good. You’re also on ER duty, since I’m sending Bishop home. She just pulled off a 36 hour shift and three surgeries” you grab your charts and turn back to look at her. “Better catch up, Belova. Right now, you’re way behind”

Hoping the rest of the day can be better, you instruct her on how to work the ER and she seems to be eager to follow your instructions.

A little too eager, as Yelena hurries to pull out a knife from a man’s leg and getting you sprayed with an alarming amount of blood.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry” she says, being pushed out of the way by Barnes so he can fix the mess.

You wipe your face and arms. Well, it’s been a while since you’ve had that happen.

“What did you do wrong?” you calmly ask Yelena.

“I… I didn’t take X-rays. Or his BP”

“Yeah, make sure that doesn’t happen again” you say, tired of being too hard on her. It’s clearly not working. “Stitch him up, I gotta get changed”

Cleaning up proves difficult when you don’t have a change of clothes in your bag. This is what you get when you’re in a hurry to leave.

“Don’t” you warn Tony when the elevator doors open and he watches your bloody scrubs.

“Fine. I won’t say I told you so”

“Screw you, Stark”

“Romanoffs! Evil!” he says as you roll your eyes, walking to your car.

Wanda’s reaction is a little different when she sees you come in.

“Oh, my God! Are you ok?”

“Not my blood” you reassure her. “I forgot my other scrubs. I’ll take a shower and throw these away”

“You got some on your lab coat too”

“Damn it” you raise your elbow. That’s gonna be a bitch to clean.

“Leave it, I was doing laundry tomorrow” Wanda says and you nod, smiling.

“Thanks”

Worrying about the mess Yelena could make while alone in the ER makes you hurry up, taking a quick shower and walking out of the bathroom in your underwear, jumping around as you put on your pants.

“In a hurry?” Wanda asks, eyeing you curiously.

“Yeah, she almost got someone killed while I was standing there. Wanna guess what happens if I leave for more than an hour?” you huff, looking for a new pair of sneakers. “Hey, how was it when the twins were born?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda tilts her head.

“I don’t know, we delivered twins today, and it made me wonder, what happened when Billy and Tommy were born, ya know? Was your family there? Did Pietro cry? All that”

“Oh, that’s a long story” Wanda smiles. You stand up, ready to leave and she leans forward. “Why don’t I tell you over dinner?”

“I’d like that” your heart flutters at her beautiful smile. She kisses your cheek.

“See you later”

“Bye, love” you smile, feeling like something’s changed between you two.

Hopefully, for the better.

—

Love: Happy ten months to us.

Love: I love you, detka

You smile at the text you got from Wanda right at midnight.

“It’s feeding time, wanna help?” Maria says as you stand outside of the NICU, watching their oxygen levels and temp.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on”

You both change into special gowns and cover your heads and shoes to avoid contamination. One of the nurses hands you the little girl and you begin to feed her, amazed at how strong she is in spite of being a preemie.

“You’re a natural” Maria comments and you laugh, while the baby wraps her entire hand around one of your fingers.

“Oh, man. It’s happening again. I’m catching baby fever. How have you managed your entire career, Maria?”

“Well, dealing with Carol is a lot like having a kid” she jokes and you both laugh.

Feeding time is over too soon for your liking and you’re honestly thinking you’ll come back before your shift ends just to enjoy this a bit longer.

And then Yelena walks in the room.

“Belova, you’re contaminating everything”

“Mrs. Hardwick is crashing”

“What do you mean, crashing?”

You run out of the NICU, hearing the code blue over the speakers. By the time you get to the room, Bucky is working with compressions. You spring to action, asking for medications and taking over CPR.

“Talk to me, Belova”

“We have a pulse” she says, not taking her eyes off the monitor.

“Ok, let’s do blood work and an ECG. Did you do the post op, Yelena?”

“Yes!”

“Every hour?”

“Every 45 minutes! Y/N, you have to believe me, I did everything. What about? Ok, I know I’m just an intern but I’ve read about peripartum cardiomyopathy?”

“It was a high risk pregnancy. We need to get those lab results to rule it out. The bad news is…”

“That in critical cases, a heart transplant is the only way. And there’s a high rejection rate” Yelena says, and you nod.

“Very good. I wish I could say you’re wrong, but it’s not the case”

The results aren’t good. Neither is your chat with Mr. Hardwick, who’s facing the potential loss of his wife and their children are still in the NICU.

“What are our options?”

“We can start with beta blockers, diuretic, other treatments. If it’s not good enough we will have to consider a heart transplant”

“How long will that take?” he says, desperate.

Your pager interrupts you. Her room again.

“Wait here”

But of course he doesn’t.

“She’s crashing again. Charge to 200”

“We have to do something now” Maria says, helping you with compressions.

“LVAD. It can be a bridge treatment for medical management or heart transplant. Page Ross” you turn to one of the nurses.

“He’s out”

“Then page him and tell him a woman is dying”

“He’s not in the country” Bucky clarifies.

“Alright, whoever’s available in Cardio, Jesus. Is that so hard to find? We’re not wasting any time, tell them to meet us in the OR…”

“Doctor Bernard is two hours away”

“Not good enough” you yell, feeling desperate. All you see is a woman with twins, like Wanda, who needs to see her babies grow up.

“Natasha’s still here” Yelena offers and you nod without hesitation.

“Call her”

The adrenaline makes it seem like it’s been a second since you began to prep for the surgery, and Natasha walks in, ready to go.

“An LVAD can be a temporary solution. But she needs the transplant. My mother is already calling UNOS”

“Ok, let’s begin” you nod. You stand opposite to Natasha, doing everything she asks.

Her movements are calculated and precise. You find yourself looking in awe at her skill.

She was born to be a surgeon.

“There’s a heart in Boston. You need to go now” Melina says when you’re almost done. Tony is right behind her. Seems like everyone wants this case to have a happy ending.

“I’ll go” you and Natasha say at the same time.

“Take the jet” Tony says. “Mine, not Romanoff's”

“Yeah, ok” you look at the clock. You have twelve hours for dinner with Wanda. “Let’s just wrap up before dinner, or my wife will be mad”

“Wife?” Maria says and you look up.

“Girlfriend. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere” you mutter, shaking your head.

“I didn’t know you’d propose. Congratulations” Natasha says, looking at you over her surgical mask.

“Not proposing… Not anytime soon at least, things haven’t been so… nice” you say, focusing on the LVAD.

“I’m sorry” Natasha says, and for the first time, it seems like she means it.

“Not your fault. Not all of it, at least” you joke in a low voice so only Natasha can hear.

“Jerk” she says, but there’s no malice in her tone. “We’re done here. I’ll leave instructions for the post OP while we get the heart”

“Jet’s waiting” Stark confirms.

“Thanks, Tony. You’re my favorite nepo baby” you smile, taking off your gloves.

—

It’s all a blur. People greet Natasha, and it feels like the entire room stops when she walks in. Of course, her family owns this place.

In Stark Hospital, she’s a guest,

Here, Natasha’s the boss.

One of them, at least.

“This is Doctor Y/L/N, scrubbing in with me”

You feel a little intimidated, at the sheer size of the hospital. Twice as big as the one you work at. So, maybe that’s why Tony doesn’t like them that much.

Men and their obsession with size.

“You should see the ER” Natasha says when she catches you looking around the facilities.

“Maybe some other time. Let’s get our heart”

“Now I think I just owe you a pair of lungs” she jokes and you laugh, remembering the time she went to Westview.

Everyone’s ready for the organ harvest but Natasha takes a deep breath, approaching the woman in the operating table.

“You’re about to save a mother’s life. We hope she can see her children grow up. Thank you”

With that, she turns to nod at you.

Again, you are in awe of her technique, even if it’s your third surgery together. You realize the first time you hadn’t noticed because you were too busy joking and admiring her green eyes.

Yeah, the damage to your relationship wasn’t Natasha’s fault at all.

I’m such an idiot.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just worried”

“About being late for dinner?”

“Among other things” you say, avoiding her stare.

“Well, we’re done here. Let’s get back to Westview”

—-

This is the third time she calls you. Wanda looks at her phone, worried that something might have happened to you.

She decides to call the hospital, but it’s Kate who answers the ER line.

“Kate, hi. Is Y/N ok? She hasn’t called or texted” Wanda says, holding her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, getting the laundry ready. She picks up your lab coat, and a sheet of paper falls.

An offer letter.

To work with the Romanoffs.

“Hi, Miss Maximoff. She’s on her way back from Boston. Her and Doctor Romanoff…”

“She went to Boston? With Natasha?” Wanda stops reading the letter, catching up to what Kate is saying.

“Well yeah, we had a…”

“I have to go” Wanda hangs up, dropping the phone.

She reads the letter one more time before crumpling it in a ball.

—

It’s been a while since you had such an intense shift. I mean, sure, maybe fishing Yelena out of the water was hard, but this was one of those cases that had the entire hospital on edge.

Mrs. Hardwick is in post OP with a new heart, and her twins are getting stronger by the hour. You desperately hope there’s a happy ending.

Also, you made it in time for dinner, with some actual time to shower.

“Hey” you greet Wanda when you walk in. She’s sitting in the dining table, glaring at you.

“You have a lot of nerve to show up”

You’re about to ask what’s wrong when she throws a ball of paper your way. Of course, the offer letter.

“Wanda”

“No, don’t even start. You broke your promise. Why were you in Boston? Looking for a new place?”

“Jesus fuck, Wanda!” you shout, exhausted. “I was in Boston for a heart transplant so a woman who just had twins can live. I mean, a mother could have died, her babies are still in an incubator and you are worried about a job I’m not even gonna take? Get a fucking grip!”

“Don’t talk to me like that. You said that you were done speaking to her, that nothing was happening. And now this?”

“Her mother made the offer that I rejected because my family is here. As for the surgery, well, yeah, I broke my promise for a good reason. What was I supposed to say? Sorry, your wife will have to die because my girlfriend is paranoid?”

“Don’t you dare call me paranoid when you kissed her, not to mention all the times you were calling her Professor Romanoff, or how you always talked about having dinner or going out”

“How do you…?” it takes a moment and Wanda licks her lips nervously, looking away. “You went through my phone”

“What else was I supposed to do? Here she is, this stunning woman that is offering you so much thrill and excitement while I’m nagging you about taking out the trash. And not only that, but a chance at a better life too”

“So you went through my phone and my stuff. That’s great, Wanda. Very healthy and mature” you run your hands over your face, resisting the urge to kick the wall. “I would never sign that stupid contract, in a million years. Our life is here, but no matter what I do, you always doubt I’m committed”

“You’ve been lying to me for weeks and I’m the bad guy” Wanda says, looking defeated. “Is that all you have to say? No apology for hurting me? For betraying me?”

“I apologized over the kiss. I kept my promise and yeah, I broke it to save a life. Natasha’s on a plane back to Boston, and she’s never coming here again. But if you can’t trust me…” you sigh, and wipe the tears that roll down your cheeks. “If you don’t trust me, I don’t see how we can do this. Because then the issue isn’t Natasha. It’s us”

“You’re right” Wanda says after a beat of silence. You relax at her words, thinking the fight is over and you can talk rationally about it. Her next words hit you like a brick wall. “I don’t trust you. And I don’t think I ever will again”

Wanda stares at you, until you look away and sigh.

“Then what? The kids…”

“They are my children. I should have never involved them, that was my mistake and it is one I’ll never make again. We’ve been doing good our whole lives, just the three of us. It’s best if you leave us alone. We will be better”

We’ll be better without you.

“I should go” is all you say, closing the door behind you.

—-

Bucky leaves the hospital, sighing. What a day. He even stopped by the NICU to see those cute babies.

He’s about to get on his motorcycle when he spots you, sitting in a bench.

“Hey. Came to check on your patient?”

“Yeah. And talk to the Chief” you sigh, looking at him. “How about that drink we talked about?”

“I’m kinda tired”

“You sure? Because this is the only chance you’ll get”

“What do you mean?” he asks, noticing the tear that rolls down your cheek.

“Well, I just quit my job”

[hoonsita]

୨୧ ｡ ｡ ｡ㅤ READY, HONEY?

𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓸 . 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒

엔하이픈 & fem!reader 12OO fluff scenarios non-idol au ; established relationship, use of pet names, physical intimacy ── LiBRARY

HEESEUNG

he is always ready before you, so he resorts to watching the tv lazily. but when you come out of the bedroom with a tentative catwalk to get his attention, he immediately looks at you with a big head-over-heels smile. you show off your outfit, indirectly asking for his approval. "you look stunning, darling"

"let me get a look at you, baby" he walks over to where you're adjusting your outfit. with a smirk he takes in your whole form, all the curves perfectly hugged by the elegant dress. he smirks, spinning you around with a hand gently holding your waist before stealing a quick kiss from your lips.

when you put on some music to help you get ready faster, he faintly hums along, mindlessly pacing around the room, sometimes stopping to look out of the window or steal glances at you from the other side of the room, completely mesmerized.

JAY

he waits for you with a serious face, but when you call for him to help you choose between two outfits, he looks like the happiest man on earth. "that one looks best, but you look breathtaking in anything, my love"

"what's wrong?" he is immediately by your side when you groan in annoyance and you complain about not being able to tie your necklace. you don't even get a chance to finish, he's already taking the small golden chain from your hands. "hold your hair up for me, pretty" he instructs softly and he quickly gets the job done, finishing with a loving kiss against your neck.

he might or might have not dozed off on the bed, a pillow on his face to block out the light right above him. you exit the bathroom, finally done, and a giggle escapes your lips as you take in his silly position. you call his name in a whisper and he jumps up, acting like he was never asleep in the first place. "oh, ready to go?"

JAKE

he passes by while you're busy putting your earrings on while leaning over the bathroom counter, a concentrated expression on your face. he gets behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, gently stroking your arms as he admires your reflection on the mirror. "beautiful" he simply says, grinning widely.

you just asked for five more minutes, but he quickly grows restless. he knows you will take more than you said, but it's okay. he paces around the house, entering rooms and trying to find something to busy himself with.

you call for him, asking to bring over your beauty case while you finish with your hair. it is left open on your bedside table, and jake picks it up curiously, eyeing the makeup products that threaten to overflow. he lingers on the bathroom door, watching with wide eyes as you skillfully go through your routine, trying to be as fast as you can. he couldn't care less that you're late, he's completely dazzled.

SUNGHOON

you were feeling guilty for making him wait, his suggestion to start getting ready earlier had been ignored but he had been right all along. you poke your head inside the living room, and he's sitting on the couch, staring at the black tv screen. "hoonie?" you call for him in a shy voice "i'm sorry i'm taking so long". his lips curl up in a reassuring smile and he pulls you down to sit on his lap. "take your time, princess" he kisses your temple, his hand resting on your hip "we have the whole night".

when he passes by the bathroom, he looks inside and his heart jumps at the sight of your cute concentrated face as you curl your hair. he fetches his phone from his pocket and quickly snaps a candid picture he will use as wallpaper from now on.

you're putting on lipstick when you feel his presence behind you. "that looks good" he says quietly and you fight the smile tugging on your lips. "stop making me smile, hoon, i'll smudge everything"

SUNOO

you were running around the house in a hurry, trying to be as fast as you could even though you were already late. sunoo sat tranquil on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a serene expression on his face, paying no mind at the time.

you were trying to apply eyeliner, but just couldn't seem to get it how you wanted. when yet another try failed, sunoo appeared, ever your guardian angel. "want help with that?" he offered kindly. you pouted, but still nodded, wanting to get it over with. he worked with careful precision, cupping your face gently with his free hand while whispering about how pretty you looked.

he took his extra time fixing his hair by the entrance mirror, going back to the bedroom to check on you once it was absolutely perfect. you were emptying your closet in a frenzy, muttering under your breath as you tried to find a good outfit. he smiled at you, totally smitten.

JUNGWON

when he realized he was already ready while you were still choosing your outfit, he decided to relax in the living room, sitting on the armchair and stretching his arms behind his head, watching you from a distance.

as you were trying to untangle the knots in your hair, you felt his arms wrapping around you in a back hug. squirming with a whine, you complained about him not letting you brush your hair. you saw him smirking from his reflection in the mirror, but he didn't complain back. instead, he took the brush from your hands and began helping you with gentle strokes.

when you take longer than expected he sneaks in the kitchen for a snack, despite having planned to eat at a fancy restaurant later. he munches on chips while he watches you applying mascara, a foolish smile on his lips like he's watching his favorite movie at the cinema.

NI-KI

you're trying clothes in front of the closet mirror when he comes in to put on his cologne. he turns his head towards you as you make a noise of approval at the new dress you have on. he pretends to exit the room nonchalantly, but instead sprays the perfume directly on you sneakily. "now you smell like me, beautiful" he smirks, stealing a kiss too.

he walks into the bathroom as you're trying to style your locks, playfully shoving you lightly to take the space in front of the mirror to fix his own hair. if he did it to annoy you or not doesn't matter, you voice a high-pitched "hey!", shoving him back to reclaim your spot.

he huffs and groans like he's dying from boredom and he has to let you know. even then, he would never rush you, and tries to entertain himself with a game on his phone. dangerous, because he quickly gets competitive, he loses track of time and suddenly he's the one kissing your hand as an apology for being late.

© ʜᴏᴏɴꜱɪᴛᴀ

[cyberhughes]

can i please get a spicy margarita, #15 w quinn hughes?

congrats on 200!! 🫶🏼

cyberhughes 200 follower special ⋆ .˚

spicy margarita coming up!!

prompt #15: "don't hold back."

warnings: SMUT, unprotected pinv, swearing, brief mention of insecurities, barely oral (f!receiving), nutting inside please for the love of god use protection!!!

you guys don't understand how feral i am over this rn...anyways thank you ml <3 i kinda got carried away w this one im literally in heat rn

prompt list

"more quinny..." you whined against his lips as you ground down onto his clothed crotch, the movie you had been watching long forgotten. he groaned at the friction, "princess...hold on." he breathed out, gripping your hips to slow your motions and you sighed out in frustration.

quinn treated you like you were a glass figurine that could shatter at the slightest touch. for a while you thought that maybe you had done something wrong. did he not want to have sex with you? were you not pretty enough? your mind clouded with insecurities every time he'd stop you before the two of you could go all the way.

it's not like he doesn't want you, of course he does. he has to try so hard to restrain himself when he sees you walk around the apartment with skimpy little shorts, or when you tease him by poking your ass against him as he spoons you at night. he never meant to hurt your feelings, he means well! he knows you're a virgin, which is why he's scared to get too intimate with you, he's scared he might hurt you, his darling girl.

"quinn if you don't want to have sex with me, just say that." you huffed as you climbed off of his lap, flopping back onto the bed with you arms crossed over your chest as you averted eye contact. his eyes widened at your sudden reaction, this is what he was afraid of.

"no, it's not that baby." he reached for you and you felt your eyes well with tears, feeling slightly pathetic. "then why do you shut me down every time i try to initiate something?"

"i..." he sighed as you looked up, waiting for a response. "i'm scared i might hurt you." you looked into his eyes that were filled with regret.

"quinn, you could never hurt me." you reassured him, fixing your posture to face him. you understood now.

"i'm sorry baby, i never meant to make you feel like that." he reached a hand up to cup your face, wiping a tear off your cheek as you leaned into his touch. you turned to kiss his hand and looked up at him with hooded eyes, hoping to continue what you had started.

“i want to have sex with you, quinn, i want you to fuck me." your voice was barely above a whisper and he felt himself get unbelievably hard in his sweat pants, eyes darkening with lust.

he quickly leant down to kiss you, cupping your face with both hands as you held onto his wrists, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed you with the most passion you had ever felt from him. he gently moved you further down the bed to lay down fully, climbing on top of you.

you let out a moan when you could feel his erection against your thigh as he trailed wet kisses down to your neck, his fingers dancing from the skin of your waist, down to the edge of your panties.

you could feel the hesitation in his movements as his hand ghosted over your covered core. "please, need you so bad quinn." you whined in his ear, and who was he to deny you?

he took his time prepping you, showing your whole body the love it you deserved. he took his time as he eased his fingers into you, making sure to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you whined at the stretch. of course he ate you out as well, kissing and lapping at your soaked cunt as you tugged at his hair.

"baby...quinn stop..." you said breathlessly and he shot up, immediately assuming he had done something wrong. "what's wrong princess? do you want to stop?" your heart melted at the sight, his eyes filled with worry, a contrast to your glistening slick on his chin.

"no, you're making me feel so good, i just need to feel you inside now." you reassured and he felt like his eyes might pop out his head like a looney tunes character.

he wasted no time kicking off his sweats and boxers, already shirtless from before. you could feel your whole body burn at the sight in front of you, quinn at the edge of the bed, looking like he was about to eat you alive, stroking his extremely hard cock in his right hand.

he had crawled up on top of you, kissing you from your ankles up to your swollen lips. his tongue explored your mouth as you let out a whimper at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds.

"quinny...inside..." his pupils were blown out, the sight of you already so fucked out and he hadn't even put the tip in yet.

"tell me if it hurts, okay baby?" he looked into your eyes for assurance and you nodded frantically, "yes, just put it in."

he slowly pushed in, a deep groan escaping as your gummy walls sucked him in. meanwhile your eyes squeezed shut at the foreign feeling, he was so big, and you felt so full. he let you adjust for as long as you needed, kissing you deeply to distract from any discomfort. after a while, you nodded, signaling for him to start moving.

he pulled out slowly, nearly slipping out because of how wet you were, before pushing back in, observing your features for any signs of pain. he'd always put your own pleasure first before his.

it took you a while to get used to the feeling, but slowly the discomfort had turned into a pleasurable, warm sensation. you wanted more, no, you needed more of him.

you knew that he was only going slow to make sure he didn't hurt you, but you began to grow greedy, needing to pick up the pace.

you kissed his neck up to his ear, nibbling at his skin and he felt chills run down his spine as you whispered, "don't hold back." your manicured nails tracing down his back and he swore he could've cum right on the spot at your words.

"you sure?" he asked for confirmation and you nodded, "fuck me harder quinn."

he almost let out a whimper, his head dropping to the crook of your neck and you could feel his hips pick up, "fuck baby, you're too perfect." you moaned at his praise, feeling his cock thrust into you deeper.

"so fucking perfect," he lifted his head up and rested his forehead against yours, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his pace quickened. "my perfect girl..." he trailed one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing quick circles onto the sensitive bud as you let out the most heavenly moans he had ever heard.

"ngh fuck!" you whined as tears formed, feeling the pleasure course through you as you dug your nails into his back, leaving marks that he'd definitely get questions about from his teammates.

"doing so good baby," he kissed away the tears that fell down your face as he rubbed your nub faster, and you could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, teetering on the edge of your orgasm.

"gonna cum for me, huh?" he asked but all you could let out were choked sobs, the pleasure becoming too intense. "oh baby, come on, you wanted this, go ahead and cum for me." he whispered into your ear and his words was all it took for you to snap, your hips rolling up to meet his as your orgasm washed over you.

"fuck," he groaned as he watched you, adjusting his position so that he was now sitting up, back on his heels as he gripped your hips tight enough to leave bruises as he thrusted faster as he chased his own high. you were whining and squirming underneath him, breasts bouncing with each thrust as the stimulation became too much. "m'sorry baby..." he pouted, "didn't you tell me not to hold back?"

you could only moan at his words, just laying there and taking what he was giving you, your pussy unbelievably sensitive as you clenched around him, almost pushing him out. your knuckles turning white from how hard you gripped the sheets as he fucked into you.

"fuck baby i'm gonna cum," he whined as he landed a particularly deep thrust and you cried out, "c-cum inside." he didn't have to be told twice before he let out an animalistic groan, throwing his head back as he spilled his warm load into your walls as your eyes rolled back at the sensation.

he slowed down, looking back down at you with fucked out eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as he watched his cum drip down your pussy,

"so perfect."

[vntglace]

eddie munson x fem!reader ₊˚⊹♡ shy!reader, smut, rough sex, a lil degrading | based on this request.

dating eddie munson has been so fulfilling.

he's funny, he's sweet. he tries to pay for everything, even when he can't really afford to. he lets you steal his sweaters, shows you sick music, and calls you cheesy, ridiculous nicknames.

and, of course, he's really good in bed. he's apparently only been with one other girl before, and although the thought makes a jealous pit form in your belly, she clearly taught him well.

he's on top of you now, your legs wrapped around his waist as he kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

suddenly, he looks up at you. "is there anything that you wanna try? like, something i don't do that you want me to?" he asks.

the question takes you off guard, your cheeks heating up. "um...no?" you say, unconvincingly.

eddie grins. "oh, c'mon. you're telling me you don't have any fantasies for me to fulfill? what do you think about when you touch yourself?"

despite the mischievous expression on his face, you can tell he means what he's asking. he wants to pleasure you, and you're grateful, but you can barely look him in the face with how embarrassed his line of questioning is making you.

"eddie!" you say. "i don't...well, i'm not..."

"oh, don't tell me you don't touch yourself. everyone does," he says. "even good girls like you."

your face burns. "sometimes, yeah, but...i don't know, it's all...abstract thoughts. i don't have anything specific that i know i like."

eddie had been your first, so you don't have enough experience to tell him what you're into.

"well, tell me something you think you'd like, and we can try it. y'know if you're not feeling it, we can just stop."

his reassurance makes you feel safer, a little more comfortable. you play with his hair as you talk, trying to keep yourself distracted from your shyness. "i mean...i think i'd like being on top? and...maybe if you were a little bit...rougher with me? like, not hurting me, but like...just faster? harder? and maybe a little...mean."

you groan, putting your hands over your face. "i don't even know what i'm saying."

eddie takes your wrists gently. "hey, hey," he coos. "no need to be so shy, pretty girl. we can try that for sure. can i try something right now?"

you nodded, still struggling to meet his eye.

his grip on your wrists gets tighter, and he pushes your hands over your head, effectively pinning them against his pillows. "like that? you want me to be rough with you, huh?"

you whimper, nodding again, already feeling your pussy grow wetter at the lower, more dominant tone of his voice and the grip he had on your wrists.

"tell me you want it. use your words, princess."

"please be rough with me," you say, breathless.

he grins wickedly. "with pleasure."

he's practically feral as he kisses you hard, nipping at your bottom lip, then moves to suck a hickey into your collarbone. "thought a good girl like you wouldn't be into something like this. thought you'd want to be treated like a princess. instead you wanna be treated like a slut, hm?"

you moan. "yes," you reply to his rhetorical question, too dumb with desire to feel ashamed any longer. eddie has unlocked something primal within you, getting you to open up about your fantasies.

"wanna get on top, baby?" he asks. "see if riding me is as hot as it is in your dreams?"

"please," you say, all but begging.

he rolls onto his back, rolls a condom on, and then beckons for you to come and straddle his hips. he slips his cock inside you, and you whine at the stretch of him filling your hole. he fucks up into you, hard and fast, just like you'd asked for.

the position is a little more uncomfortable than you'd imagined, but there's something pleasurable about the ache in your thighs as you keep them spread for him, about how exposed you feel as his eyes go from your face to your breasts, bouncing with each of his thrusts.

you feel the urge to cover yourself, but it's like eddie can sense it, and he reaches out to grab your hands, holding them at his chest to keep you steady, as well as keep your body on display for him.

"you look so fucking hot, bouncing on my cock like a slut," he says, voice breathless with pleasure. "gonna come if you keep lookin' at me with those innocent eyes."

"cum for me," you say, surprised by the vulgar words coming from your mouth. "fuck me until you cum inside me."

you know he's wearing a condom: there's nothing too taboo about letting him do so, but it makes you feel sexy, dangerous to tell him to do so anyway.

it doesn't take long for eddie to do just that.

dating eddie munson just got so much more fulfilling, you realize with a smile.

[themultifanshipper]

I don’t know if your down but I need more mark webber smut or jenson or even both I just can’t find anything for older divers except seb (don’t get me wrong I love them but fuck I need mark and jenson ones so bad ) also love your fics but the foursome one was next level

 After Danica got fired, Jenson hoped there would be no replacement. That he’d be paired up with one of his other SkySports colleagues. 

Instead, you showed up. All pretty eyes and bashful glances, and he didn’t know quite what to do with himself. 

(Yes that is an old pic of Jenson to which I added a beard, you're welcome)

Warnings: smut, age gap, masturbation, making a sex tape, multiple orgasms, Ted Kravitz being cringe at the end (but that’s why I love him don’t @ me), not proofread

Jenson knew you were always nervous around him. Understandable, given how much disdain he’d shown his previous colleague. 

You were incredibly sweet to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately smitten with you. Very early on he decided to not get too close to you, for a number of reasons. You were young, definitely too young for him, and he didn’t want to come off as the creepy older colleague infatuated with the woman under his wing, so he kept a reasonable distance. 

It didn’t take you long to get used to the job. You were young, but you were incredibly mature. Never distracted, always asked pertinent questions in interviews, and in no time you felt right at home in front of the cameras. A true professional. 

Which was more than could be said for what went on inside Jenson’s mind every time he looked at you. He didn’t know how to act around you. He didn’t want to come on too strong or you might get the wrong idea, and he didn't want to scare you off.  

Unfortunately, that didn’t translate very well on camera, and just made him look like he didn’t like you at all. 

He admired you, in a way, being one of the youngest in the biz. He knew he stared at you way too much, but you didn’t seem to notice.

He was sure everyone else probably noticed, so he decided to stop staring, and instead tried to look as neutral as possible whenever he was around you. 

“She’s so much nicer than Danica, I don’t get why Jenson doesn’t seem to like her” 

People on twitter didn’t know how to react. 

“Why is Jenson looking at her like he wants to run her over with his car 😭” 

You would spend quite a lot of time reading tweets about you. Sue you, you wanted to see if you were well received by the fans, knowing full well how critical people could be. 

“If Jenson wants to quit his job I’ll gladly take his place if I can be next to her” 

And they were half reassuring, half mortifying. Because yes, they seemed to like you, and appreciate you replacing Danica, but you indeed started noticing how Jenson looked at you during interviews. 

You had no idea why he didn’t like you. You couldn’t remember doing anything to annoy him, and he sure as hell hadn’t said anything to you whenever you talked to him alone, so why did he look at you like he wanted to run you over? 

The actual problem, was that Jenson’s mind wandered. And it wandered into very dangerous territories. 

He knew it was wrong, and he knew he should stop it immediately, but something about having forbidden fantasies about his colleague was too exciting to stop. 

So when he was feeling particularly riled up, or bored, or whenever he was at home, really, he’d think about you. 

About your soft lips that he couldn’t help staring at. About your hands, your delicate fingers wrapped around the microphone while you held it up to whoever you were interviewing. 

He thought about those infuriating shirts you wore. They weren’t low cut, but they were tight. 

He thought about the time he’d been working out in the hotel gym at night, when you sauntered in, in nothing but a sports bra and tight shorts. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or spiteful of the hot Singaporean weather. 

“Oh hi, Jense!” you’d called out cheerfully. 

Jenson’s hips stuttered and he came all over his hand at the memory. Damn you and your tendency to give people affectionate nicknames. 

Sometimes, when he needed... material, he’d pull up your instagram. You had a few photos on there of you in tight dresses at events, and... some of you at the beach, wearing bathing suits with varying degrees of coverage.  

He never lasted long when he pulled those out. 

It never took long for the guilt to set in either, gnawing at him while he did his best to go about his business. He knew he had a problem, but he didn’t know what to do about it. 

He was in half a mind to quit his job, but even that idea failed him when he saw your sweet sweet face look sad when he’d mentioned his retirement. 

So months went by, and you got closer. One could even say you were friends. You got on well, and when you were alone the banter flowed naturally, despite the generational divide. You had the same sense of humour, often jokingly flirting at each other. He called you ‘young lady’, and you called him ‘old man’... and in a way it helped him stay on track, not get too absorbed into the chemistry he had with you.  

But the guilt still gnawed, and when the cameras rolled, he put the stick back up his ass and pretended you were nothing more than Danica’s replacement. 

Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to race in Vegas, in november? 

He felt like he was stuck in a loop. An endless cycle of guilt and pretty eyes and twitter comments. 

...

Whoever it was deserves to get their head bashed in, Jenson thought as he huddled against some tyre warmers. 

Evening sessions were a nightmare, and they just got colder as the days went on. The tyres may have been cold, but you and Jenson were freezing your proverbial nuts off while you waited for the drivers to get out of their cars after qualifying. 

The interviews were fine, but it was clear everyone was just desperate to get back to their hotels to warm themselves up.

Everyone except Jenson, it seemed. 

... 

You ran into him in the lobby of your hotel when you went down to ask for blankets. 

Apparently, the biting cold was fucking with the electricity, so the heating wasn’t great in some of the rooms. And the phones were dead, so you had to go to the lobby if you needed anything. 

It was around 2 AM, and Jenson was at the bar having what appeared to be a whiskey on the rocks. 

“Jense? What are you doing down here?”  

His eyes snapped to you immediately and he sighed. 

“Could ask you the same question, young lady.” he chided, and you rolled your eyes. 

“The heating’s not working properly so I’m going to ask for blankets” you took a seat on the bar stool next to him “What about you, old man?” 

He huffed out a laugh, taking in your polka dot pyjamas peeking out from the fluffy dressing-gown you had on. 

“The heating’s completely off in my room. And they’re out of fucking blankets.” 

Your face fell, the blankets had been your last hope. 

“Shit...” you eyed him as he took another sip. “That’s rough...” 

“Yup” he popped the ‘p’ dramatically, fingers wiping at the condensation on the side of his glass. 

“And your plan is... to stay here and drink until tomorrow?”  

He chuckled. “No, my plan is to drink as many of these bad boys as it takes to not feel the cold anymore, and by that point, I should be slightly happier about being here” 

He winked at you and downed the rest of his glass. You knew he wasn’t a fan of Vegas, and neither were you, so it had become a sort of inside joke. 

“That’s a terrible plan. It’s better to have company in the cold than drink it away on your own.”  

“So... what? Are you going to drink with me?” he chuckled “You going to give an old man some company?” he cringed at his choice of words, the whiskey must have already affected his judgement. 

You leaned in closer with a cheeky smile. “No... I’m inviting the old man up to my hotel room.”  

Jenson’s brain stalled as he stared at his empty glass. 

“I uhh...” he gulped “I’m not sure that’s a good idea” 

“Why not? I’m sure we can find some way to keep warm...” you muttered, sliding off your chair. 

This couldn’t be happening. Jenson tried to keep his cool while his mind went a million miles an hour. He was just imagining things. You were not flirting with him, it was the whiskey making him interpret your words as something else. You weren’t suggesting- 

“If we work together, I bet we’ll be sweating by the end of the night” you purred. 

‘Don’t do it Jenson’, his brain supplied, she’s only joking. She doesn’t want you in that way, you’re much too old for her! Don’t throw your career away over- 

“Besides, what’s the point of touching yourself to my instagram photos, when the real thing is waiting in the next room.” 

Your hand on his thigh made him jump slightly. He turned his head to look at you questionningly. 

“You’re not as slick as you think you are” you smiled, fingers brushing against his rapidly growing bulge. “Did you know that when you accidentally like a pic, then unlike it, it still sends me a notification?” 

Jenson gritted his teeth, but made no effort to move your hand. “Obviously not, no” 

“And did you know” you grinned, movements growing bolder as you rubbed him through his pants “that you’ve liked the same 4 posts about 50 times, and always at night?”  

Your body was pressed against his side, and he was basically throbbing under your touch as he tried to keep his composure. “And you seem to really like the ones of me in Bali...” 

He tried to choke out an excuse, but you cut him off. “I know you want me...” your faces were inches apart, he was panting against your lips as you teased him. “So come and get me” 

You retreated completely, turning on your heel to walk across the lobby. Your heart was beating through your chest at what you’d just done. 

You pressed the button for the elevator and waited with bated breath, not daring to turn around. 

It felt like an age before the doors finally opened, just as you suddenly felt his presence behind you. 

He undid your robe silently and slid a hand into your pyjama pants, and his breath hitched when his fingers came in contact with your wetness. 

He quickly pushed you inside, clicking the button to your floor before pressing you against the mirror.  

“Fucking hell... you’re soaked” 

“Jenson, please” you begged, and he didn’t hesitate to slip a finger inside you, curling it perfectly as you mewled under him. 

“Desperate little thing, aren't you?” he cooed, adding another finger. 

Your eyes rolled back, breath fogging up the mirror as the obscene sound of his slick fingers filled the small space. 

By the time the elevator got to your floor, you were trembling and gasping for air. 

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other all the way down the corridor, slamming each other against various walls and probably making a racket while you were at it, but neither of you gave a damn when it felt so good to be touched.

...

Clothes were thrown haphazardly all over the place, and he wasted no time spreading your legs to get a taste of you. 

Well, he got more than a taste. He buried his face between your thighs, not once coming up for air as his tongue dragged you to edge of a mind numbing orgasm. 

It wasn’t too long before you started to feel the burn of his beard insistently rubbing against your inner thighs as he ate you out with gusto, but his mouth felt so good sucking on your clit, you didn’t care, if anything, it made the sensations more intense. 

But he didn’t stop there, he kept going, sliding his fingers into you, that he curled expertly against your g-spot. 

His extra years of experience hadn't been wasted, you thought. After all, everyone knew what he was like back in the day... and he certainly knew his way around.

That’s how he got you to your second orgasm of the night, thighs clamping down around his head as your hips bucked against his skilled tongue and fingers. 

He crawled over you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, in which your could taste yourself, and feel your wetness cling to his face. The kiss quickly turned sloppy when your hand went down to stroke his cock, thumbing at the tip to spread his precum around. 

“This is definitely better than your holiday in Bali” he groaned and you giggled at the statement. 

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, ready to slide in and make all his fantasies come true, when you suddenly had an idea. 

“Wait!” you gasped, pushing him away and looking around wildly. “Where’s your phone?”  

“What?” he panted. 

“Or mine, either will do” you spotted one of the two on the floor just next to you so you reached down and took it, turning the camera on. It was Jenson's.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, hands wandering across your thighs impatiently. 

“Giving you some new material” you propped it up on the nightstand and started recording. “Lie down” 

You shuffled around until he was laying on his back and you were straddling his hips, his tip poking at your entrance. 

“Ready, old man?” you smirked. 

He scoffed, swatting your hips. “Have some respect for your elders” 

You rolled your eyes playfully and sank down on him.  

Despite your earlier orgasms, it was quite a stretch. His girth was enough to get a punched-out groan from you as you took him all the way to the base. 

You steadied yourself on his chest and rode him slowly at first, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, then set a faster pace, angling your hips to take him deeper. 

“That’s it... bounce on my cock, good girl” he moaned, rolling his hips in time with your thrusts. 

You looked like a goddess, towering over him, brows knit together in pleasure and he couldn’t believe this was real. He half assumed this was a whiskey induced wet dream. 

One of his hands came up to pinch your nipples, and you squealed at the rough treatment, but it only made you wetter as you picked up the pace of your hips. 

His thumb went to circle your clit lazily and you whined, biting your lip at the added intensity of his stimulation on your puffy oversensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Jenson” you gasped. You could feel yourself nearing another orgasm, and he felt you tightening around him, so he wrapped a hand around your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and took the opportunity to thrust up into you. 

You swore loudly, seeing stars as you came around him while he jackhammered his cock into you, chasing his own high.  

You pushed yourself back up, leaning over him to turn his phone off before looking down at his satisfied, dopey smile. 

He came inside you with a low growl, bouncing you on his cock a couple more times before releasing his grip on your hip and neck in favour of cupping your face and deepening the kiss. 

Your body slumped over his, and you reveled in the absolutely filthy kiss he was giving you while one of his hands travelled to your ass and gave it a harsh squeeze.

“You cold?” you asked, trailing a finger through the sweat on his heaving chest. 

“Nope” he panted, grinning at you. 

“Up for round two?” you smirked devilishly. 

“Definitely” he smiled “Give me a minute though, I’m not in my twenties anymore”  

You giggled, finger trailing lower, along the bumps of his toned abs.  

“I don’t know... I think you’re pretty fit for an old man” you teased. 

“Please don’t call me old man when my cock is inside you”

... 

“Helloooo”  

The cheery voice of Ted Kravitz interrupted your thoughts while you were having breakfast the next day. 

“Hey Ted!” you greeted  “What’s up?”  

“In my life... not much. How about you? How’s it going with Jenson? Found any common ground yet?”  

In the beginning, back when Jenson didn’t speak to you much, you’d struck up a friendship with Ted, and told him about your worries. 

“Not much... I still don’t think he likes me very much, to be honest” you sighed. 

“Not really. We don’t see each other much outside of the paddock.” 

“Really? Nothing more than that?”

He looked at you with a knowing smile. You decided to play stupid. 

He snorted. 

“Riiiight.... so it wasn’t you two that I saw stumbling through the hallway last night with your hands down each other’s pants... guess it must’ve been somebody else, it was pretty dark, I suppose.”  

He smirked, getting up and plucking a donut off your plate.

You were forced to watch him strut off, and almost run into Jenson in the doorway.

Jenson said hello, but Ted just cackled and walked away.

"What was that about?" Jenson asked you, noting your terrified expression as your eyes stayed glued to the door.

"I think we have a problem"

[delusional-dinosaurr]

10 Laps - Aitana Bonmati x Reader

“Don’t even bother Y/N, she’s out of our league. I mean look at her!” Niamh nudges you whilst you are standing drooling over the goddess that is Aitana Bonmati. Her hair blowing gently in the wind, it feels almost like something you’d see in a movie. You’ve definitely watched her more than you should have, but who on earth could resist looking at her? Obviously not you.

“Focus on the competition Y/LN” Millie says also nudging you whilst grinning at your lovestruck look. You sigh and nod, continuing your pre-match team walk of the stadium whilst Barcelona do the same, eventually the two teams combine and conversations amongst the teams start.

“Y/N!” Keira gives you the biggest hug, you’re also finding Ona and Ingrid’s arms around you too.

“Ah I’ve missed you guys! How are you doing in sunny Spain?” You ask, you continue a nice conversation between the three of you. You’re then introduced properly to some of their teammates, one in particular you were obviously more inclined to get to know.

“Aita! C’mere!” Keira hollers over to Aitana to come and meet you, she offers you a gentle smile and gives you a hug in greeting, which you obviously hug her back, even with her being slightly shorter than you.

“Aita this is Y/N, Y/N this is the Ballon D’or winner, World Cup champion –” She is cut off by an elbow to the ribs from Aitana.

“Please, there’s no need to say all that, I’m just normal Aitana” She smiles.

“Pfff, that’s a lie, have you seen yourself? You’re beautiful, talented, the list could go on” You say, causing Aitana to break out in a blush.

“God nevermind I'm splitting this up already” Lucy says joining the conversation with her old teammates, jokingly shoving you away from Aitana.

“Lucy you never said your friend was this charming” Aitana grins at you.

“Yeah there’s a reason for that, now c’mon, we’ve gotta get going now Y/N” Lucy says as she tugs you away.

“What was that for?” You ask Millie joining her side, who sighs in response.

“Luce is quite protective of Aitana from her time in Barcelona, she’s had some rocky relationships and knows what you can be like” She says.

“Mills, you know I’m not like that, I’ve just had some rather unlucky relationships too” You groan back to her. She hugs you as the teams continue to split apart to carry on the walk around the pitch at Stamford Bridge.

━━━━━

The day is here, your big match. You’re already ahead in the first leg so you know you’ve just gotta keep that same energy going.

“You okay?” Guro nudges you, you’re sitting, bouncing your knee in the locker room whilst all your teammates are chatting or dancing about after your warm ups.

“Nervous” You say quietly to her. “I know I’m not normally a nervy person but today just, I have that weird feeling y'know?”. Guro gives you a hug and reassures you for a few minutes before you head out.

You start lining up and look over to the Barca team who are also making their way out to line up with you. You look at their line and see Aitana, also looking nervous beside you.

“I would try to say things to help you win and reassure you, but you’re dangerous to us” You say in spanish whilst nudging her, a quiet laugh coming from the spaniard.

“I appreciate the sentiment. But also good luck marking me” Aitana smiles up at you also speaking in Spanish, causing you to chuckle.

“No luck needed Bonmati” You wink back at her, making her laugh.

━━━━━

Safe to say luck was needed. You lost 2-0 after a long fought battle with marking Aitana, who proved difficult to mark. In the last few minutes the exhaustion really hit when you were struck with a strong tackle from Fridolina Rolfo, meaning you were helped off the pitch by some teammates for your substitution. The Spanish side celebrated their win, you and your teammates collapsed in sadness and exhaustion. You hobbled over, kneeling down on the grass attempting to console your sad teammates. You feel a gentle pat on your back, causing you to lift your head up and look at who it was, Alexia Putellas herself.

“Keep your head up, you were fantastic. I’d kill to have you play for us one day” She says to you in spanish and smiles at you whilst crouching down with her arm around you.

“It’d be a dream to represent Barca at some point in my life, I’ll take you up on that one day” You smile, knowing your contract ends soon and you’ve been gunning for going abroad at some point whilst you’re still young and with your dad being spanish, meant you’ve had to learn two languages growing up to appease both parents.

“Contract expires soon, no?” Alexia winks, causing you to chuckle and hug her back, she lifts you up so that you’re not sat in the mud. “Go thank your fans, they need you” She smiles sadly at you, you nod in response and hobble along to join the rest of the team doing the rounds.

“You and Alexia aye?” Erin nudges you gently, so that she doesn’t knock you over in your temporary crutches and boot.

“Not my type, but she did mention wanting to steal me for Barcelona one day” You joke, Erin's eyes widened at the statement, causing her to latch onto your arm.

“Absolutely not! You’re blue through and through Y/N!” She says frowning slightly, her accent somehow seeming even thicker with the added frustration.

“Erin, don’t be so hard on her. Y/N we will support you no matter what happens this year okay?” Guro says knowingly from the other side of you. She holds her hand out for you to hold onto her instead of using the crutches.

“Thanks Guro, I didn’t know how to break it to you all but, Chelsea hasn’t offered me a contract extension, they’re looking for newer talent apparently” You give a sad smile with them both visibly looking upset.

━━━━━

A few weeks later you played your final match for Chelsea, getting a proper send off from your childhood club and the best teammates. After a few days of back and forth with negotiating contracts with other teams, your eyes widen at an offer from the club you’ve dreamt about playing for, Barcelona.

You arrive at Camp Nou to do your pre-season and signing photoshoot ready for the announcement. You haven’t told your Chelsea mates that you in fact did end up signing for the team as you’ve been so busy with England friendlies whilst others were playing in the Olympics.

“Y/N Y/LN, about time” Alexia greets you whilst you’re having your photos taken in your new kit and number.

“Who did you kill to get me here then?” You banter back and forth for a few minutes whilst you’re still having your photos sorted.

“Come, let me show you the team, in nicer circumstances than the last?” She smiles gently. The girls are all at training at the other pitch which Alexia takes you off to, also kitted up ready alongside you.

“Girls, there’s someone you need to meet!” She yells from the sideline as the team is warming up.

“NO FUCKING WAY” Keira runs over to you and lifts you up, your national teammate always being this affectionate with you.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you Ke, it was all up in the air until, well I was in the air” You smile.

“Best surprise ever” Mapi comes over to hug you as well.

“Sorry again for that tackle” Frido gives you a big squeeze.

“Ah I’m just glad I’m on your side now” You joke, elbowing her.

“God you look good in a Barca shirt” Ona comes over and says, turning you around to see your name and number on the back whilst whistling appreciatively.

“Not already hitting on me when your girlfriend isn’t around” You jokingly roll your eyes at Ona.

“Ah we all know who you’d want to flirt with you mate” Keira winks.

“Y/N hi!” Aitana greets you with a big hug, Keira giving you a knowing look from behind Aitana as you blush at the interaction, causing Keira to roll her eyes at you with a smirk. You get called in by the coach to start training with the girls, luckily with Spanish being your second language you’ve managed to gel quickly into the session.

“Want some friendly competition Y/N?” Aitana nudges you. “I bet my team wins in our scrimmage”.

“Yeah? And what do I get if I win?” You smile.

“Mmm anything you want” She smiles “But if I win, I want to go on a date with you, even if it’s just a coffee before training”.

“Deal” You shake her hand, being split onto opposite teams and starting the friendly match between Aitana’s team and Frido’s team (you being on Frido’s). You’re already marking Aitana, working as hard as you can to defend your side's goal, knowing fully what Aitana is capable of.

“You’re not making this easy for me are you?” Aitana chuckles as you help her up from the grass after being tackled by you.

“Nuh uh, I’m serious about winning bets Bonmati” You wink as you run back to your position. After another 10 minutes you accidentally got too into your friendly bet that you tug Aitana by the training bib, causing her to go tumbling into you, knocking both of you onto the ground, luckily you softened her fall with your body.

“Caught you” You laugh at her shocked expression.

“Wouldn’t have fallen if you didn’t pull me so hard!” She says lifting herself up from you, instantly causing your face to become flushed.

The match ends 3-2 to your side, managing to get two assists for your team.

“I told you I was serious” You smirk going over to get water with her.

“It’s like you didn’t want to go on that date” She looks a bit deflated.

“Nah, because for my win, I’d like for you to take me out on a date, a tour of Barcelona on a day off” You smile nervously.

“Oh…OH! Yes! I mean, yeah sounds good I can do that” She tries to play it off cool and fails massively.

━━━━━ A few days later you find yourself on a tour with Aitana as your guide, you’ve already done most of the tourist attractions and historical parts but after a few hours she drags you to the top of the Montjuic mountain area by taking you up the cable cars. You both stand there admiring the view.

“It never gets old” She smiles over at the view, you take a photo of her admiring the view to which she doesn’t notice you taking the photo in the first place.

“Thank you by the way” You smile at her.

“Eh?” Aitana tilts her head at you.

“Thank you for giving me the tour of Barcelona, it’s been really nice to spend time with you…and not the rest of our teammates” You blush trying to not be awkward with your answer. Aitana grins at you and squeezes you into a hug.

“We should do this more often, yes?” Aitana says enthusiastically, you nod back at her and hug her even tighter.

Once your hug breaks apart you move closer to the wall and peer over at the vast landscape of the city, spotting the landmarks you’d toured earlier in the day, with Aitana pointing them out for you.

“So I was thinking we could always-” You cut her off with a kiss, hoping you had read the situation correctly. Luckily for you, you felt her soft lips moving in sync with yours, giving you the butterflies in an instant.

“-Go back to mine for food? And we can do more of that” She continues, looking quite flustered.

“I’d love that” You smile, feeling much more shy than before.

━━━━━ Around 3 months later you were out for a night out at a club with the Barca girls as a celebration of a win against Madrid CFF. You and Aitana have been dating since the day of your first kiss but you’ve chosen to keep it fairly quiet so you can start with privacy and keep away from prying eyes, but you haven’t necessarily been hiding it, still some obvious signs. Your teammates still think you’re just pining after Aitana after all of this time and still to this day, are trying their best to put you two together for training, or even media duties.

“You look beautiful by the way” You kiss Aitana on the cheek as she turns up to the group outing, a greeting that is normal amongst the Spaniards, with them being so affectionate with each other. Aitana quietly thanks you, smiling away at the compliment even after 3 months you’re still making her blush. After a few hours, and a few drinks, the majority of the squad are either on the dancefloor or sat in the reserved seating area you have. Aitana comes along and sits on your lap, and leans her head on your shoulder.

“Tired, my love?” You ask her.

“Mm, I’d much rather be at home right now, you, me and the bed sound great for many reasons” Aitana says just loud enough for you to hear.

“Fuck Aitana, why would you say that!” You groan, wiping your hand over your face in an attempt to clear the dirty thoughts of your girlfriend out of your mind, which you obviously fail at every time.

“Maybe I want you to take me home?” She smirks cheekily.

“Love, someone will catch on” You say seriously.

“Who cares, if it was up to me, I’d kiss you right now” She says confidently for once.

“Then do it” You challenge her, as soon as she hears those words your lips are connected, hands tangled in each other's hair and gripping the others clothes.

“Bathroom?” Aitana nods over to the bathroom which you both run off to, knowing that the team have definitely just seen what happened. You arrive in the bathroom and continue from where you left off minus a few items of clothing, until you’re interrupted by yelling.

“I KNOW WHAT YOU TWO ARE DOING, OUT!” Ona yells, banging on the outside of the bathroom cubicle door. You and Aitana both rush to put your discarded clothing back on and give her a quick peck before a lecture from Ona and most likely Alexia.

“I’m taking you home, now. And you, we will be talking about this” Ona frowns pointing at you, dragging Aitana away from you and outside of the club. Ingrid comes over and takes you away from the doorway whilst you’re protesting.

“Explain what the fuck just happened?” You say to Ingrid.

“Ona saw you two kissing out of nowhere and you both going off to the bathroom to do what she thought you would be doing, and she didn’t like it” Ingrid sighs with a sad smile.

“What did she think I was just gonna take advantage of Aitana?” You sigh.

“She’s protective of her best friend, you know that. She likes to keep an eye on Aitana for herself and Lucy and make sure she’s okay” Alexia chimes in, overhearing your conversation in the quiet corridor.

“Well clearly she’s not that observant” You laugh to yourself, the two girls look at you quizzically.

“We’ve been dating since that time I got her to take me on a tour of Barcelona?” You say to them, hoping they understand what you mean now. You can see the switch of them realising all of the signs they ignored over the last few months.

“Hold on, so it wasn’t some one night stand? The marks you had all over you the other week at training was from little innocent Aitana?” Alexia says shocked but seemingly impressed.

“Oh god, she’s far from innocent” You chuckle, thinking back to that night before training before receiving an elbow to the ribs from Mapi, who managed to sneak into the conversation behind you, without you realising. “I mean, no, we are saving it for marriage?” You joke.

“Someone needs to talk to Ona, our little Aitana has grown up” Mapi says whilst pretending to wipe a tear from her eye, Ingrid is already getting her phone out to call Ona to meet up and discuss the situation. After a while she finishes on the phone and says it’ll be best for you to all continue the conversation tomorrow before training, so you all call it a night after all of the drama.

━━━━━

The next day at training, luckily no one drank heavily so you’re all relatively in a good mood and good spirits for the training session you’re about to have. That is at least until Ona arrives with Aitana.

“Aita” You mumble quietly as she walks over to hug you tightly.

“Y/N, a word, alone?” Ona says sternly, nodding over to the side, you nod and follow her for privacy, your girlfriend giving you a look of concern as you walk away from her.

“Right, Aitana refused to talk about it, so go on Y/LN” Ona folds her arms.

“Aitana is my girlfriend and has been for a few months now” You bite back.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” She asks.

“Because one, we wanted some privacy, and two, because I knew you’d act like this” You say, shaking your head at her.

“Like what?” She says angrily.

“Like someone who thinks I’m a fucking monster that’s going to break her heart? Ona, you’ve known me for years, come on now” You say “I know she’s your best friend but really?”. Ona’s head drops in realisation.

“Firstly��I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Aitana was a mess after her last break up and I supported her the whole way, I couldn’t even imagine the thought of seeing her like that again. You’ve had your moments over the years but it was definitely wrong of me to assume the worst, I’m sorry” She sighs, realising you’re right.

“Thank you Ona, I really do care about her. Like a lot” You smile, leaning into the open arms of the girl.

“I know, come on, let's go see her then” She nods over at a worried looking Aitana, after hearing your raised voices.

“Hola bebita” She kisses your cheek and links her arm in yours.

“Ground rules, no pulling stunts like last night again” Ona says sternly to the both of you.

“What the sneaking off or the fact we were going to..well you know” You say embarrassed.

“Both” She smirks.

“Well unfortunately we regularly break one of those rules” Aitana winks at you, watching Ona work out which she meant.

“BONMATI NO” Ona yells after the shorter girl who has run off. Alexia comes over giggling at the sight of the two running around.

“What caused that?” Alexia chuckles.

“Oh Aita told Ona that we have sex regularly” You laugh, Alexia going wide eyed.

“Wait, you’ve had sex? Y/N ABSOLUTELY NOT!” She says now chasing after you. “You’re too young!”.

“ALE WE ARE BOTH 25 WHAT DO YOU MEAAAAAN” You yell laughing, trying to avoid the captain. Mapi stops you in your path.

“What is going on?” Frido asks from the side of Mapi.

“Y/N and Aitana are girlfriends AND they’ve had sex” Alexia says shocked with you rolling your eyes, Frido gasps.

“You’re too young for that!” Frido smacks your shoulder.

“We are both 25!” You frown laughing at the girl.

“You know what she means, we are all protective of our two babies, and now they’re….” Alexia shudders.

“Oh come on” You groan, Ona bringing Aitana over by her collar and many protests from Aitana.

“Come here often, chica?” You wink and flirt with Aitana who laughs.

“Actually quite a lot today it seems” She jokes.

“I think we’ve broken them all” You say looking around at your friends who are still confused by the relationship.

“Si, but not me. I had a feeling you two were up to something these last few weeks” Mapi grins.

“Wait what?” Ingrid says confused.

“Oh come on, no one noticed that at the last few parties they’d somehow manage to sneak off? Always together for everything? They have sleepovers?” Mapi says, shocked that no one else caught on. Everyone seems to hum in agreement and realisation. You grin at the group of girls around you whilst holding Aitana’s hand.

“What do you think they do at those sleepovers!” Ingrid says, groaning.

“WE ARE ADULTS WHO HAVE NEEDS” Aitana raises her voice.

“Exactly, and lucky for Aita I’m very good at fulfilling her needs” You tease, watching the older women of the group glare at you and Aitana grin.

“Right that’s enough” Alexia launches in your direction, grabbing the scruff of your shirt.

“Alexia please no!” You whine.

“10 laps, both of you” She says as you both groan. “And after training, you’re coming over to my apartment so we can go over some ground rules, and I want to get to know Y/N more as she is dating my Aitana” Alexia says.

After getting through the gruelling 10 laps underneath the Barcelona sun, you did keep your word and went over to Alexia’s apartment that same evening, to your surprise, it was a pleasant evening in which you gained her trust, and her blessing with ‘her Aitana’.

[enwoso]

Can you maybe write a keira walsh angst fic where reader is her girlfriend and they have opposite schedules for a few weeks maybe keira has England camp and when she came back reader has a work trip and they are just upset they haven't been able to spend time together

OUT OF REACH | keira walsh

masterlist

keira stood in the doorway of her apartment suitcase still in hand and sighed. the quiet was deafening. no scent of a home cooked dinner, no music playing in the background and most crushing of all, no you.

her eyes scanned the familiar space, her heart sinking just that little lower with each step she took further inside. it wasn’t the first time she’d come back to an empty home recently but with each time it happened it didn’t seem to make it any easier.

the past few weeks has been an endless cycle of missed calls and unanswered texts. england camp had demanded every ounce of her energy and the difference in schedules between the two of you made connecting with each other nearly impossible.

whenever she’d finally found a spare minute to call you, you’d be swamped with your own work. each conversation felt rushed and like it was an obligation instead of the comfort she so desperately needed and wanted.

as she dropped her suitcase near the door, her movements heavy with frustration and fatigue. the silence of the apartment felt oppressive and a stark contrast to the notice in her head.

the note you’d left on the kitchen counter caught her eye and she picked it up with trembling hands.

‘kie, i’m so sorry we keep missing each other. another work trip came up last minute. i’ll can you when i can. i love you, always. and don’t forget to eat something decent, okay? - y/n’

setting the note down carefully, her chest tightening as she leaned against the counter. the words were kind, loving even but they weren’t enough.

nothing felt like enough right now - not your reassurances, not her efforts to stay positive. the distance between you wasn’t just physical anymore.

keira sank into the couch, staring blankly at the wall as she replayed the last few weeks in her mind, every missed moment and stilted conversation. the ache in her chest grew sharper with each memory.

—

when you finally called a few days later, keira didn’t answer right away. her phone vibrated on the coffe table as she stared at your name on the screen. it took three full rings before she moved to pick it up.

“hi,” she said her voice low and flat as she sunk back into the couch as your bright smile dropped almost immediately at your girlfriends moody demeanour.

“kei?,” you said softly you voice carrying a mix of warmth and hesitation as you chose your next words very carefully. “you okay?”

“fine.” she replied curtly. it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t bring herself to open up not after weeks of feeling like she was always the one holding on while you drifted further away from her.

a heavy silence settled between you, broken only by the faint sounds of staff wandering past as you stood outside the conference room having a fifteen minute break.

“baby, talk to me.” you finally said, you tone gentle but firm.

she let out a cruel bitter laugh as she ran a hand through her hair, “what’s there to say? your not here and i’m just.. tired.”

“tired? tired of what?” you asked cautiously as you looked around everyone wandering back into the room where you were holding the conference as you wandered to a quieter place in the building, finding a seat on a ridiculously bright green chair which unfortunately matched the walls.

“of this,” keira snapped, her voice rising slightly. “of coming home to an empty apartment. of weeks of not seeing you, of hardly talking. of feeling like i’m the only one who-“

she cut herself off, biting down on the words that were on the tip of her tongue as they almost spilled out. she didn’t want to say it. she didn’t want to admit just how lonely she felt, how much she questioned whether you still cared as much as she did.

“like your the only one who what?” you pressed, your voice trembling slightly as your eyebrows knitted together.

keira closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. but the dam had already broken. "like i'm only one who is trying!" she burst out as her eyes bubbled with tears. "it's just so hard now, your always working, always gone when i come home and then i'm just.. here. alone"

her words hung in the air, raw and heavy. on the other end of the line you were silent for a moment, long enough that keira had started to regret saying anything at all.

"and you think this is all so easy for me?" you said quietly, your voice laced with hurt, hurt that she would even think of anything like this. "you really think i like being away from you? that i don't miss you every second of every day?"

keira opened her mouth to respond but you didn't let her, didn't give her the chance.

"i'm doing my best here, kei. i don't know what else you want from me," you continued, your voice breaking. "you know i'm trying to run a business. im exhasted and all i want is to be in your arms and i thought you understood this"

the pain in your voice cut through the girl like a knife, keira swallowed hard, her tears stinging her eyes, "i do understand as i know your always understanding of my schedule" she said her voice cracking. "but that doesnt make it any easier. i just.. i miss you, y/n so much and every time i finally get a chance to breath you're not here. and i know it's not your fault but it still hurts"

your sigh comes through the line, heavy with exhaustion and emotion, "it hurts me too kei," you said softly, trying your best to control your breathing, "but we can't keep doing this. we can't keep hurting each other like this. if we don't figure this out.."

you didn't finish you sentence, but the unspoken words hung between you. keira's breath hitched as the weight of it all pressed down leaving an uncomfortable heavy feeling in her chest.

"i don't want to lose you," she said, barely audible.

"and i don't want to lose you." you replied, "but something has to change. keira, we need to find a way to make this work cause i can't feeling like i'm failing you."

keira wiped at her eyes, her heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. "i don't know how to fix this," she admitted.

"we'll figure it out." you said, your tone firm despite the sadness in it. "and the first step is with me coming home, tomorrow."

keira nodded along, even though you couldn't see her the words not fully processing in her head for a couple of seconds, "ok- wait no you have to finish the con-"

"no, kei. i'm coming home tomorrow morning. the conference can wait. my girl needs me. and plus whose gonna stop me, cause last time i checked i was in charge." you let a small giggle as keira hummed before mumbling an 'i love you' as you did the same thing

"i'll see you tomorrow morning, my love"

the call soon ended after, keira sat in the quiet apartment once more, the weight of your word lingering but this time she felt a little lighter knowing by this time tomorrow you'd be back in her arms again.

and true to your words, you walked through the door - well you got two steps into the apartment before keira was engulfing you in a tight hug. and while it didn't erase the pain or the distance of the past few weeks, it was a start and in the right direction. a promise to keep fighting for each other, even when it hurt and seemed out of reach.

[siriuslylantsov]

canine tendencies

pairing: sirius black x reader

description: in which, you put charms in sirius' hair and confront certain traits of his.

tags: fluff! fem!reader, mmm pining, cuddling, totally platonic activities going on here, r is muggle-born hence the vet and dog anatomy knowledge, sirius is a puppy agenda, pretty women from the 70s mentioned (dont pay much attention to it), flirting.

a/n: staying true to my username with more sirius black. wanna play with his hair for days tbh. happy reading!

wc: 1.7k

“you don't know when to give up, do you?”

you raise your chin indignantly, “i'm stubborn.”

sirius fixes you with a withering glare, it doesn't pack much of a punch but you can tell he's stalling. he finally relents with a long sigh, ever the dramatic. you squeal, walking over to his bed with a little pouch that jingled as you moved. you nudge at his shoulders to lean against the headboard and set yourself down beside him. he grumbles, muttering something along the lines of waste of time and how your neck is gonna hurt. you bite back a smile at his cause for concern: you. 

“complain all you want, but you know this is gonna look good,” you muse, with an air of smugness. “you’ll be singing my praises.”

he lets his head hang to the side, looking at you, up those pretty eyelashes of his. his eyes are indifferent, yet they crinkle at the corners, trying to not prove you right. pools of grey and blue, you could drown in them. 

your elbow is wedged between a pillow and the headboard, propping you up, knees curled, poking into his thigh. his legs are sprawled out in an obnoxious man spread, effectively making you move closer so you don't fall off the bed–that's small enough regardless of the space he's taking up. 

he's avoided you all day since you proposed the idea at breakfast: putting charms in his hair. what's strange is that you’ve done his hair plenty of times before sans protest. you ponder it quietly, simultaneously willing him to concede with squinted eyes, as he deadpans you.

if he could, he would've told you that he’s afraid to be alone with you. not that he hasn't been before, he has and he's been this close to you too (he constantly is). but something is different now, something about your hands in his hair that he can’t deal with. especially recently, you've taken to scratching behind his ear and it drives him a little crazy. he won't stop you though, on account of it feeling so good. usually, you're around the others so he can shift his focus elsewhere rather than think about how softly your fingers pad over his scalp, but now you’re alone and he's cursing lily for dragging his friends to some stupid baking endeavour that he stealthily got out of. 

you watch as annoyance passes over his features (directed to lily but you don't know that) and it instantly worries you. maybe he was serious about not wanting this, were you pushing him?

“sirius, if you really don't want me to do this,” you start, a nervous edge to your fast rush of words, “please tell me. i don't want to force you into doing anything-”

“hey,” he stops you with a hand over your arm and a small reassuring smile. “i'm sorry, i do. i just think you’re hot when you're irritated.”

“you must think i'm farah fawcett all the time then,” you mutter, rooting around in your pouch for the gold cuffs you thought would suit him. “and i'm not irritated, i have a surprising amount of patience for you,” you correct, inspecting the cuffs in your palm.

sirius sits up a bit to peer at them, chewing his lip in thought. “mmm not her. barbara carrera maybe,” he adds, looking back at you, his resistance fading away.

your eyebrows shoot up slightly, in mild shock. “she's pretty,” you remark to his comparison and the seemingly honest delivery.

“yeah,” he says, incredibly earnest, “so are you.”

curious and curiouser. “you think flirting with me is gonna get you out of this?”

“i don't know, is it working?”

“nope,” you say curtly, bring your hand back up to his face, this time with a few charms as well. “pick.”

he does, and sets them in your other hand held out. you begin parting his hair for the braids, you settle for placing them under the top of his hair, since his layers are short they'll peek through nicely. you tie a sloppy half bun to the unused portion of his hair so it's out of the way and section out a piece to braid. 

sirius dutifully holds the gold adornments in his hand as you work, suddenly quiet. he always gets like this, you've noticed. all quip remarks are silenced when your hands are in his hair. you make note to tease him about it later but for now you're content to stay quiet. 

he's humming something quietly, a tune you're unfamiliar with, it's ok he’ll tell you later. it fills the silence nicely. you pick the first charm, looping it into a strand of hair and continuing the braid to secure it. his hair is unbelievably soft, it's probably why you like touching it so much. you both know it gets greasier faster because of your constant contact but sirius makes no move to stop you, ever, simply muttering a spell to revive it. 

it goes on like this for about ten minutes, mostly because the charms were a bit more difficult to work with than you thought and also because you were extremely wary of trying not to tangle his hair. he stares at you diligently out of his periphery and you try not to meet his gaze. 

when you're done you lift the handheld mirror to his face. fuck, he looks beautiful. you have to look away, allowing him to assess everything on his own. 

he shoots you a blinding grin, looking exceedingly pleased with how it turned out, “thanks, dove!”

“you’re welcome,” you respond. “it looks good, right?”

he nods, looking into the mirror again. “really good. you did an amazing job.”

your heart flutters at the praise but you don't let it show, accepting his words with a smug smile. it doesn't last long though as he jumps you with a hug, winding you. arms wrapped around your middle, his head rests on your chest, just below your chin, squeezing you in appreciation. you wrap your arms around him in tandem and lean back against the headboard and the pillows, practically pulling half of him on top of you.

it's rough and tumble for a moment before he settles with a low hum, arms still circled around your torso. he knows they’ll go numb the longer he stays like this but he doesn't care. 

you trail one hand into his hair instinctively, like it's second nature. your nails lightly graze over that spot behind his ear and he’s done for. when you begin scratching, he melts, like truly melts against your body, letting out a long, pleased sigh. he makes note to kick himself later for acting like this. beneath his cheek, he feels you shake. are you laughing?

he lifts his head, a little incredulous. “what?”

you chuckle, seeing how he blinks away the blissful air to his expression. “nothing, it’s just-”

he looks at you expectantly as you contemplate your words.

you let out an amused snort before speaking again, “i don't know if it's, like, a subconscious response to your animagus form but dogs really like being scratched behind their ears.”

he gapes at you, affronted. “are you calling me a dog?”

“you are, padfoot.”

he whines petulantly before dropping back to your chest. he noses at your sternum, his own wordless way of getting you to continue. so you do. 

“dogs have a very concentrated area of nerve endings here,” you explain quietly, scratching his scalp again, just behind his ear. “when stimulated, it causes the brain to release endorphins, making them feel relaxed.”

he hums in thought though it sounds more pleased and it scarcely proves your point. 

“how’d you know that?” he asks, voice muffled by your shirt.

“my friend had to take her cat to the vet and i read one of those pet magazines to pass the time,” you murmur, your voice still quiet as you begin to feel sirius growing heavier over you.

“y’so smart,” he slurs, words trailing off in the beginning of sleep.

“don't fall asleep,” you whisper, though you make no effort to wake him up.

he mumbles something incoherent, nuzzling further into your neck but giving you a little grace by shuffling off of your body. one leg is still tangled with yours and his arms are still tightly wrapped around you but at least he's not crushing you. 

“tell me more,” he requests, words trailing up at the end in question.

you think for a moment, reaching to the depths of your brain to retrieve the dog facts you read about that day, perking up when you do.

“hmmm dogs have incredibly sensitive noses. they have up to, like, 300 million scent receptors, where humans have about 5 million and the part of their brain that processes smells is 40 times larger than ours,” you mumble, tapping a light finger to the tip of his nose. 

“cool,” he exclaims, though it's anything but. his eyes slowly flutter shut as you coil a piece of his hair, sealing your fate for the rest of the evening. that is until, much to sirius’ dismay, his roommates come bursting in.

flour scattered over their clothes and hair alike, they’re boisterous as they enter, chatting something along the lines of baking is actually kinda fun. he groans against your body, sleep stretching far and wide from his grasp. you stifle a laugh as he glares at them annoyedly. they pay no attention to the boy, instead making plans on playing quidditch. to this, he brightens. jumping from the bed at a speed you can't quite justify, not being overly fond of the sport yourself. you were more inclined to flying for fun, rather than competition. 

he glances back at you, tentatively, asking for your permission almost. you shrug indifferently, you were going to make your way down to the field anyway. he grins and leans down, pressing a quick firm kiss to your cheek before rushing after the dwindling voices down the stairs, his own broom in tow. 

you bite your lip to push down the giggle that bubbles up in your throat, maybe there are some innate canine tendencies.

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