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wandascosmic · 4 months ago

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so american

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: in which you struggle with the aftermath of your relationship with natasha, but wanda never fails to help you through it all.

or, the one based off so american by olivia rodrigo.

word count: 11,499

tags: fluff, angst, natasha being a bitch in one scene, this was supposed to be completely fluffy but then i added angst and ended up loving it, they're mostly just two idiots in love, reader gets insecure a couple times, wanda's so in love, everyone say thank you to olivia rodrigo for fuelling all my fic ideas

part one: enough for you

“Why do Americans drive on the right side of the road,” Wanda grumbles as she sits behind the wheel, driving the two of you to your favorite road trip destination, your family’s cottage in Nevada.

You laugh, kissing her cheek. “Baby, Sokovians do too.”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it,” Wanda mutters, cursing under her breath when another right-hand turn takes her by surprise.

“I think that’s what you get for getting your license in the UK, Wanda,” you tease. “Now you’re all grumpy, and angry, and that milkshake we shared a couple of hours ago definitely didn’t help–”

Wanda gives you a look and you give a cheeky smile in return.

“For the record,” she replies, looking at the road once more. “I didn’t have a choice. I was on a recon mission with Steve, and he told me I couldn’t rely on my powers for transportation all the time.”

“Well, I think your powers are hot, though.”

Wanda laughs. “Thanks, detka.”

“Jesus, I’m cold,” you mutter as goosebumps start to form on your skin.

Wanda immediately turns down the AC in the car, and you reach into the back for the first piece of outerwear you can find. As you pull your hand back to your body, you realize it’s Wanda’s navy blue hoodie, your favorite piece of clothing of hers. Smiling, you pull it over your head, comforted by the scent of her that enraptures your senses.

Sighing in satisfaction, you lean your head back into your chair, feeling so much more content than you did a year ago.

Wanda notices you out of the corner of her eye, and softly says, “You look so pretty wearing my clothes.”

You smile at her, and Wanda takes your hand in return, as she keeps her other on the wheel, intertwining your fingers together.

“You’re so warm,” you whisper, feeling so so loved.

Wanda squeezes your hand tighter.

***

Wanda’s laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world, you realized the first day you met her.

You had been sitting and talking the entire morning, Wanda’s smile awakening the constant butterflies in your stomach and setting your heart alive.

“So,” Wanda rests her chin onto her hand and leans onto her elbow. “What profession are you in?”

You smile, “I’m an oncologist, but I much prefer the research aspect of things. I find it thrilling.”

Wanda scrunches her nose. “You find spending countless hours in front of your computer and in a lab thrilling?”

You laugh. “Sure do. What about you? What profession are you in?”

“I’m an Avenger, but I work part-time as an English professor at a local university,” Wanda replies, and before you can compliment her on her work as a superhero, she asks another question, still curious about your job. “Why oncology, though?” she asks with her shiny eyes ever so inquisitive.

“My mom died of cancer when I was 8,” you look into your coffee cup, staring at the liquid as you pop the lid off. “You can probably figure out the rest,” you give a small smile.

Wanda frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago. I’ve made peace with it, honestly.”

“That’s really amazing though,” Wanda says, struck by how beautiful you were on the outside and inside.

You blush. “Thanks.” Feeling overwhelmed by everything Wanda was making you feel you decide to tell a joke. “Hey, what do you call an apology written in dots and dashes?”

Wanda tilts her head curiously. “What?”

“Re-morse code,” you give a small smile.

Wanda takes a second to process it, but once she does, a huge grin makes its way on her face and she’s laughing.

She’s laughing, and you want to keep hearing it for the rest of your life.

Once she’s done, she looks at you with a shake of her head. “That was awful.”

You shrug. “Made you laugh, though.”

“You did,” Wanda nods. “And something tells me you’ll keep making me laugh.”

You blush, people had never really found you funny. Nat didn’t especially.

But here Wanda was, with her comforting smile that made you feel like you were on fire, and her soft green eyes that made you feel safe, cared for, and loved already.

Who made you feel like you were funny for the first time in your life.

***

“Here we are,” Wanda says, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut.

You sigh contently, so incredibly happy compared to the dark place you were at two years ago. Sometimes, you still felt the weight of how unloved you had felt. Of how you never felt good enough, never felt worthy of someone caring for you. And every time you ran back into your thoughts, Wanda was there to pull you out of your head and reassure you that you deserved the world. Telling you that she would do her best to give it to you.

It all felt surreal. Gently, you hear Wanda open the car door to the passenger side. The simple action made your heart flutter. “Ready, detka?” she says, smiling at you.

Nodding, you exit the car, planting a kiss on her lips before she shuts the door.

Putting her sunglasses on, she comments, “You know, you’re pretty American for having a cottage. With the beach, and everything.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you ask.

“Yep, because you’re an adorable American,” she smiles, kissing you quickly.

It wasn’t fair of her, to make you feel this much.

***

Wanda’s on a mission in Russia, and you miss her desperately. You found yourself struggling whenever you were alone, still grappling with the feelings of whether you were enough from two years ago. Your rock was all the way on another continent, too far to reassure you of the constant echoes of awful thoughts that rang in your head.

“Can I go with you?” you had asked as you sat on Wanda’s bed while she packed the night before with you.

Wanda kisses your lips. “As much as I would love that, detka, I want you to be safe,” she rubs your arm.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say quietly.

Wanda frowns. “I know, baby, I’m gonna miss you too. So much.”

You nod, and as you sit quietly on her bed, Wanda can tell your head is somewhere else.

Grabbing your hand softly, Wanda sits in front of you, staring into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you look away.

Kissing your forehead gently, Wanda pulls back with encouraging and comforting eyes. “I love you,” she says softly.

And it’s all you need, because it’s the most delicate, soft, unspoken gesture you’ve ever heard. One that screams that she cares, that she won’t leave you, that she won’t hurt you, and that she truly honestly loves you with all her heart and you can feel it radiating off of her.

Wanda Maximoff made you feel like you were the most important person in the world to her.

Little did you know, you truly were, and to confirm it Wanda had a ring in her back pocket which she bought a week after she started dating you with her at all times.

“I love you too,” you reply, giving her a small smile. “I just want to be anywhere you are,” you confess as you start blushing timidly.

“Oh? That’s cute,” Wanda teases.

“Shut up,” you groan, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

Wanda laughs, kissing your temple. “I do too, detka.”

“Really?” you pull your head away to meet her gaze.

“Of course,” Wanda smiles. “Being with you is my favorite thing in the world. Why wouldn’t I want it all the time?”

You blush furiously. “You know, if you keep this up–”

“What?” she asks gently.

I might just marry you. You think, oblivious to the fact that Wanda’s already had the thought countless times.

You shake your head with a smile.

***

When Wanda’s on her mission, she buys a small chocolate chip cookie keychain that reminds her of you. They were your favorite food, and every Sunday, Wanda made sure to bake a fresh batch for the week so you never had to run out of one of your favorite things.

And when she gets back, only seconds after she puts her bags down she feels her arms fill with you and her heart becomes so much bigger than it was before. She kisses you deeply, smiling to herself at the person she loves in her arms.

Whispering against your lips, she pulls the keychain out of her left back pocket, her right one carrying the ring she’s planning on proposing to you with. “I bought this for you,” she tells you, letting it dangle off of her index finger by the silver ring that she later finds out gets attached to the zipper of your favorite backpack.

And God, Wanda would be a fool not to be eternally charmed by the way your eyes light up with joy once you see it, the happy tears in your eyes making her want to hug you so tightly and never ever let go. “I love it,” you reply, grabbing it softly as if it’s made of the most delicate china. “I love you,” you kiss her lips.

Wanda shakes her head. “So American,” she teases, referring to your love for chocolate chip cookies.

“Yeah, but I’m your American,” you reply cheekily.

Wanda nods, kissing you once more. “My beautiful, perfect, so American girlfriend.”

Wanda feels her heart skip a beat when you blush all over.

***

You’re crying. You’re crying because you saw Natasha for the first time since the two of you broke up, and her words don’t hurt any less than they did when the two of you were dating. Natasha had just seen you and Wanda, wrapped up in each other’s arms, admiring one another at Tony’s enormous birthday party.

Once Wanda had left to go let Pietro in, who had run back all the way from Australia where he was taking a break from the superhero life, Natasha had come up to you. Ready to poison your world with her venomous tongue.

“You know, she’ll get sick of you,” Natasha had snapped you out of your thoughts as you stared at the door where Wanda had just left.

“What?” you reply as you turn to face her on the leather stool. Her calculating and judging eyes causing you to gulp. Even now, you still felt her hurtful words ring the bells of your insecurities back to life.

“She’ll get sick of you,” Nat repeats. “I mean, why do you think we broke up? You’re boring, you’re rude, and you’re obsessive. All my friends told me about how you couldn’t shut up about me when we were together. I mean, clingy much?”

“I didn’t mean–” you try.

Nat scoffs. “Yeah, whatever.” She takes a sip of her drink.

You feel the need to apologize, for you never meant to make Nat feel suffocated that way, when suddenly a brunette witch is making her way over to you. And she looks like she’s about to rain down hellfire on Natasha.

“Excuse me.” Wanda’s eyes narrow as she wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I believe she’s my girlfriend, Natasha.”

“Just warning her.” Natasha shrugs. “And you.”

You stare at the spot on your lap, deciding on whether or not to blink away the tears in your eyes or cry, because ever since you dated Natasha you had learned how to cry silently so you wouldn’t bother her.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, and her accent comes out thicker than ever before, “And what would you be warning me about?”

“Of her,” Natasha shrugs.

Wanda’s eyes go red before she calms down, and her arm around you tightens in the most gentle way somehow. “I’ll give you five seconds to leave us alone.”

“You’re gonna regret this, Wanda,” Natasha says.

“The only person with regret is you, for never treating her the way she deserves to be treated,” Wanda replies sharply.

Natasha scoffs, turning around. “As if she deserves anything.”

Suddenly, Natasha’s glass explodes in her hands, ‘causing everyone in the party to look her way. You can tell it was Wanda based on the way you saw a spark of red flash in her hands briefly.

Natasha turns and narrows her eyes venomously at Wanda, before stalking off to go clean the cut that’s very visible on her hand.

You’re still staring at the same spot on your lap when Wanda turns to face you, cupping your cheeks in her hands as she looks at you.

“Are you alright, milaya?” she asks, the heartbroken expression on your face making her heart drop to her stomach. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this at all.

“Do you hate me?” you whisper brokenly, the tears finally escaping your eyes as you can no longer keep them at bay.

“No, baby, no,” Wanda wipes the tears running down your cheeks with her thumbs. “I could never, ever, hate you.”

“What did I do to make her hate me so much? What’s wrong with me?” you ask with a sob.

“Nothing,” Wanda feels her own tears build up behind her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with you, baby, you’re the most amazing human being I know.”

And Wanda’s heart breaks even more, as you cry more and more, silently.

Somehow, it’s even more heartbreaking than if you were to ever make a sound.

You cry even more as you replay tonight’s events in your head, still in the navy blue dress Wanda had picked for you for the party, telling you how pretty you looked once she saw you in it. You felt so wrong, like you didn’t deserve any of what Wanda was giving you, like she would get sick of you the same way Natasha did. Because maybe Natasha was right, maybe you didn’t deserve anything. Because if you did deserve anything, then why would Natasha treat you so awfully, why would your mom have left you as a child and why would your brother leave you too, so overridden with the pain of the lack of your mom that he couldn’t bear to watch you, leaving you with your abusive father who reeked of alcohol every night.

The thoughts sicken you, because your mother never ever meant to have cancer. And it wasn’t your brother’s fault that he couldn’t handle a life without your beautiful, loving mother in it. And it wasn’t your father’s fault either that he had a drinking problem.

Maybe it was all your fault.

You hear the knock on your door, and you can tell by the pattern that it’s Wanda. “Detka, can I come in?” she says gently from the other side of the door.

Quietly, you get up from your bed, turning the doorknob, and opening the door. The motions feel unnatural to you, like you’re some stranger who’s been playing the role of having a loving girlfriend, but your world was shattered earlier and you don’t know who you are anymore. You don’t know if you deserve anything anymore.

“Oh, baby,” Wanda says heartbroken as she wraps you in a tight hug.

This was your fault, seeing the sad look in her eyes you realize that you hurt Wanda.

You hurt the one person in your life whom you never meant to hurt.

It was all your fault.

You hug her back, because maybe if you hug her back it would make her feel better and it would be less of your fault.

Wanda tightens her grip on you, wanting to convey how much she loves you. Wanting to convey how much you didn’t deserve any of this. Wanting to wordlessly tell you that despite all the pain you’ve been through you handle it with so much grace, and you’re the most beautiful person Wanda’s ever met in her life.

But Wanda can tell that you’re not okay, that your mind is somewhere else–

Then she hears you sob. And it’s the first sound of a cry that Wanda’s ever heard from you.

And Wanda can feel the tears fall onto her shoulder and she holds you tighter, she holds you tighter and tighter until Natasha’s hurtful words are overrun by Wanda’s overwhelming love she feels for you.

Wanda can only hope you understand what she’s saying.

And once you’re done crying at 3 in the morning, she keeps hoping.

***

Wanda’s worried about you, ever since Nat had spoken to you at the party you had been more quiet. More reserved. Like your mind was somewhere else.

“Baby?” she asks one morning when you’re both alone in the compound and Wanda wants to cook you breakfast.

“Yeah?” you ask, staring absentmindedly at the sitcom running on the TV.

You were ecstatic when the first day Wanda met you, you had both found out about your shared love for sitcoms.

But Wanda watches you know, the complete lack of interest in Malcolm in the Middle worrying her because it was your favorite sitcom of them all and typically you would have a completely enraptured look in your eye. The same one Wanda was lucky enough to receive from you.

Frowning, Wanda pauses in her cooking, turning the heat off the stove and coming over to meet you on the couch.

You don’t register when Wanda sits down next to you, still lost in your thoughts as she gently grabs your hand.

“What’s going on?” she asks softly, running her thumb over the back of your hand.

“Nothing,” you reply, sitting up slightly.

“Detka, I know you’re not okay. And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just know that I care about you, ok?” Wanda kisses your forehead gently. “I’m always here if you need me.”

You frown, feeling so guilty that you were making Wanda worried about you. You couldn’t pretend to be okay, and now you’ve hurt her even more. How long until she gets sick of you? How long until she gets sick of the feelings you give her?

“How long–” your voice breaks. “How long until you get sick of me?”

“What?” Wanda asks, dumbfounded.

“I keep making you worry, keep making you need to constantly reassure me, and it must be so tiring for you, so,” you shut your eyes tightly. “How long until you don’t want me anymore?”

Wanda’s heart breaks. “Never,” she breathes out. “I could never stop wanting you, even if I tried.” Wanda squeezes your hand tightly. “And I would never want to try.”

“But I’m–” you bite your lip to stop a cry from coming out. “I’m so much to deal with, and I’m not even that interesting, and it would be so much easier for you to date someone who’s actually worthy of how amazing you are–”

Wanda cuts you off with a kiss. Cupping your cheek, she states, “You are so worthy of love, Y/N.”

You stay silent, staring back at her green eyes and feeling them pull you out of toxic puddle that was your thoughts like they always did.

“Loving you is the greatest gift the world has ever given me,” Wanda says, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. “And I could never get sick of you. You are the most incredible thing to ever exist, and loving you, for me, is like breathing. It’s the easiest thing in the world, and it’s everywhere.”

“I just feel like I’m putting you through a lot,” you say quietly.

“You’re not,” Wanda shakes her head. “You’re actually making everything I go through easier than it’s ever been.”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“Sorry for what?” Wanda asks. “This is everything I love about you.”

You laugh. “You like when I start crying and get insecure?”

“I like every part of you. And if you need me to calm you down every single day, I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Wanda replies, and you smile slightly at her. “But I do hate seeing you cry.” She frowns.

You scoff. “I hate feeling like this,” you mutter.

“And I hate Natasha for making you feel like this,” Wanda pulls you into her side and you tuck your head into her shoulder, closing your eyes.

“I don’t think it was just her,” you say softly. “I think it was a buildup of everything, and Nat just amped it up more. I never really worked through how much that relationship affected me before jumping into one with you.”

Wanda nods. “Do you want me to give you some space for you to figure it out?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around her waist. “I never want–” you stop yourself, worrying she’ll find you too clingy as Nat’s words ring in your head again. Space from you.

Wanda doesn’t mean to, but your thoughts echo so loudly in your head that she can’t help but hear them. And she wants to kill Natasha all over again. “What did Natasha say to you at the party?” she asks quietly.

“Um,” you grapple with your feelings as you relive that night, when Nat made all of your feelings of inadequacy come alive once more. Wanda frowns, rubbing her palm against your side to calm you down. “She said, that–, that you would get sick of me eventually. That I’m boring. And rude. And,” you swallow past the lump in your throat. “Too clingy.”

“What a bitch,” Wanda mutters.

“Do you think she’s right?” you ask Wanda, squeezing her waist tighter as your fears that Wanda will get sick of you come alive, and these are your last few moments with the person who lit up your entire world.

“No, baby, she’s so so wrong,” Wanda replies, her eyes turning red before she looks down at you and frowns as she sees your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“The clingy one hurts me the most,” you whisper. “All I wanted was to love her and for her to love me back. But maybe I’m too much.”

You recall all the times you memorized her new coffee order every few months, the countless hours you had spent re-reading her self-help books, memorizing every fact, listening to all of her favorite songs from the information you had gathered about her. And the way you felt so proud to be Natasha’s girlfriend, the greatest assassin in the world and she chose you to be her partner. How could you have not talked about her?

Maybe it was too much?

“I think you’re the most amazing person in the world,” Wanda says, as her powers run amok once more and she sees all the lovely gestures you had done for Natasha. “I think Nat was an idiot for not seeing how kind and loving you are. And you are never too much.”

You look up at Wanda as she looks down at you with a small smile. Kissing your forehead softly, she says, “You’re not boring. And you’re not rude. In fact, you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met, as well as the kindest. And if someone is lucky enough to be loved by you, they should realize how rare it is to find someone as incredible as you.”

You shake your head softly in disbelief. “How do you do it?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I’m actually worthy of being loved.”

Wanda kisses you deeply this time.

“You are, I’m just the one who helps you see it.”

Later that night, Wanda hears you on the phone with one of your oncology friends, and she hears you talk about her. How amazing she is, and how lucky you are to have her. And when she sees you flop back onto the bed through the crack of your door, an elated expression on your face, as you speak dreamily about the way Wanda dresses and the books she reads, Wanda thinks that you’re the greatest thing the world has ever created. And she knows it’s true.

***

“Baby?” you say, turning to face Wanda in the dark in your bed. Wanda has her arm over your side, and she hums groggily as she was about to fall asleep.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, before slowly saying, “It’s just, I really, really, love you.”

Wanda smiles. “You woke me up to say that?”

“I didn’t know you were basically asleep,” you reply guiltily. “Guess the mission wore you out more than a night-shift wears me out. Sorry.”

Wanda kisses you. “Don’t be, you’re adorable.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, milaya.”

“It’s really hard to sleep when you’re next to me,” you confess.

Wanda grins into the dark. “Oh, yeah? Is it because I’m so attractive?”

You laugh. “Yes,” you reply, and Wanda’s grin turns smug. “But it’s also because it’s so surreal that I’m with you, at all. And it’s even more surreal that you’re in my bed with me, cuddling me, and you’re so warm and soft and it just makes me want to–”

Wanda cuts you off with a kiss.

God, she was so in love with you.

You grin sheepishly, “Sorry.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “Stop apologizing, detka.”

“Okay,” you nod.

“Feel better?” Wanda asks, and you understand her question. It’s been a month since Nat confronted you at the party, and moments like this were a big step for you in coming to terms with yourself overall.

“Much,” you reply. “Especially because you’re here.”

Wanda smiles. “I’m glad.”

Wanda’s heart swells when she cuddles you once more, and you hold her hand that’s around your middle as tightly as you can. She feels an overwhelming love for you, and she thinks about the ring in her desk drawer back in her room.

***

Wanda’s laughing at your joke on the couch. Wanda’s the only one who has ever laughed at your jokes, and it makes you feel so much lighter than ever before, while also making you fall deeper and deeper in love with the woman you’re lucky enough to call your girlfriend.

“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever laughed at my jokes,” you say.

Wanda smiles. “Well, then everyone else doesn’t have as sophisticated sense of humor as we do.”

You give her an incredulous look. “The first day I met you, you laughed at a stupid pun I made.”

“Exactly,” Wanda shrugs. “Sophisticated.”

You shake your head with a smile, taking a sip of your tea as your heart feels bigger and more full than you ever thought possible.

And Wanda watches you, awestruck at your striking beauty that she struggles to believe is reality.

***

Wanda’s sick. Wanda’s sick and you’re worried because your girlfriend is in pain and you don’t want her to be.

When you came in this morning back from your shift in the hospital, excited to see her, your heart had dropped at seeing her pained expression in bed, her voice croaky and her brows furrowed as she battled the feeling of nausea that overcame her. Not to mention her shivers as her high fever caused her even more misery.

You sat down on the edge of her bed, softly brushing away the strands of hair that stuck to her forehead due to her high temperature, ‘causing Wanda to stir eventually.

Slowly opening her eyes, her eyes lit up as she greeted you with a soft smile. “Hi,” she whispered.

Frowning, you put the back of your hand against her forehead. “Baby, you’re warm,” you told her, suddenly very worried.

“I’m fine,” Wanda replied, trying to sit up but letting out a groan. “I’m not fine,” she joked, as you helped her lay back down.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you some medicine,” you said, kissing her forehead quickly before heading to the cabinets full of medicine in the bathroom.

“Don’t take too long, Dr. L/N,” Wanda said sleepily as she shut her eyes once more, trying her best to fight her exhaustion so she would still be awake when you came back.

Shaking your head with a smile, you searched through the cabinets to find the proper medication to give her, already planning how you were going to take care of her the rest of the day and for as long as she needed you while she combatted her illness. Despite your worry, you were grateful that you were finally able to take care of your girlfriend, the same way she did to you every single day.

Wanda’s condition had subsided slightly, particularly her fever which had gone down quite a bit, but she was still feeling most of the effects of the sickness.

“Wands,” you say softly, putting the bowl of soup on her nightstand as you kneel down on her side to wake her up gently with a kiss on her cheek.

Wanda wakes from her slumber with a groan, still slightly disoriented causing you to frown.

“Is your fever back?” you ask, putting the back of your hand on her forehead like you had done previously this morning. It wasn’t as hot as before, calming your worry a bit.

Wanda shakes her head before resting it on your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “You’re so good,” she says, turning her head to kiss your neck gently.

“Good at what?” you say with a laugh.

“Just good,” she says contently, relaxing in your presence.

“I made you some soup,” you tell her, kissing her temple as she hums.

“I don’t want it,” she says, muffled by your shirt.

“I’ll stay with you if you have a couple bites,” you offer.

Wanda removes her head from your shoulder and raises a brow. “You were going to stay with me anyways,” she says matter-of-factly, trying her best to appear intimidating.

You smile at her cute expression. Wanda could never be intimidating, especially now when her hair was slightly tousled from her pillow and she was wearing an old T-shirt of yours that was full of wrinkles from her time in bed.

She was about as intimidating as a baby sea otter.

“Not anymore,” you shrug, ‘causing Wanda to narrow her eyes slightly.

“Well, you better,” she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Otherwise I’m never getting over this fever.”

You smile once more.

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re sick.”

“You’re insufferable when I’m sick.”

You laugh, “Please, will you have some soup?”

“Only if you cuddle with me when I’m better.”

“I’ll cuddle you right now if you eat a couple spoonfuls,” you say. “I’ll even feed you.”

“I don’t want to get you sick,” Wanda says before her eyes narrow at you once more. “Also, I’m not a child.”

“I got my flu shot last month,” you tell her, reassuring her worries. “And you’re kinda acting like one,” you tease, before kissing her forehead. “But it’s really cute.”

Finally, Wanda relents. “Fine, I’ll have some soup.”

“Thank you, love.”

You grab the soup from the nightstand and hand it to her, and as she eats you rest your head on her shoulder, one of Wanda’s top 3 favorite ways to be next to you.

She eats about half before she’s full, and you tell her you’re proud of her before heading off to the kitchen to put the bowl away.

However, as you get up from her bed, Wanda stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“Where are you going?” she asks, sitting up slightly as she was already laying back down with the blankets tucked under her chin.

“To put the bowl away,” you respond gently. “Keeping it in your room might make it start to smell like chicken noodle.”

Wanda scrunches her nose, accepting your answer quickly making you laugh.

But as you’re about to leave, you see Wanda watching you, staying sitting up and you can tell that it’s because she wants to wait for you to come back.

Making your way back over, you gently tell her, “Go back to sleep,” you brush a strand of hair away from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. “You’re nauseated again, I can tell.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” she asks.

“Of course,” you kiss the tip of her nose.

And when she lies back down, groggily croaking out the words, “so american,” most likely commenting on the chicken noodle soup, you smile, you smile because you know that’s Wanda’s way of saying she loves you.

But to Wanda, it’s also her way of saying she wants to marry you.

***

“This isn’t fair,” you pout as Wanda beats you in Mario Kart once again.

She had been better for about a week, and she was back to herself which you were ecstatic about.

“Baby, how is this not fair,” she laughs.

“You’re way better than me! You had all those years where you played against Pietro, who’s unbeatable, and I only learned ‘cause Sam forced me to when no one else was available!” You cross your arms over your chest.

Wanda smiles at the cute pout on your face before kissing you softly, and your expression eases up a bit.

“We can play something else if you want,” she offers, pecking your lips once more.

“Can I just cuddle you?” you ask, suddenly feeling very shy.

“You don’t even have to ask,” Wanda says, opening her arms for you to lay down on her, as she leans back against the pillow of the couch, your head resting on her chest as you’re comforted by the sound of her heartbeat.

You wrap your arms around her waist as she grabs the blanket from the other side of the couch, and pulls it over the two of you, making sure you’re completely covered from the neck down before she tightens her arms around you.

“I love you,” you say softly, closing your eyes as you relax to the feeling of Wanda stroking your hair gently as you lay on her chest.

“I love you too, detka. So much,” she says, watching as sleep starts to overcome you due to how exhausted you were from being on call for the past two weeks.

“You know, it’s really not fair,” you mutter sleepily.

“What, me winning over 10 times in a row on the Wii?” she laughs.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not fair of you to make me feel this much.”

Wanda responds by kissing your forehead gently, and you burrow deeper into her chest as you fall into a deep slumber.

Wanda smiles, content and so so happy as she watches you, feeling the weight of the ring in her back pocket.

***

It was your one year anniversary, and Wanda had planned a small weekend getaway for the two of you as you had been exhausted due to a bunch of new projects you were taking on.

Wanda was so proud of you, but a lot of the time she felt worried because of how heavy of a workload you were taking on.

You were planning on coming over later tonight, as you had to work extra hours in the hospital.

So, to make you feel better and to let you know about your vacation Wanda made sure wouldn’t interfere with your schedule, she had spent all day cooking you a wonderful 3-course meal which consisted of all of your favorite foods. As well as a large batch of chocolate chip cookies that would last you a solid month so long as you put them in the freezer.

She smiled at the thought of you as she rolled out the homemade pasta she was making you, how you had turned her world upside down as she navigated the unfamiliar territory of being the newest and youngest Avenger, just having you made her feel like she was so much better than before, and Wanda fell so so deeply in love with you and she never wanted to stop.

She wanted to give you the world.

She thought about how kind you were, how you cared so deeply for everyone, always stopping to help wherever and whenever you could. Wanda felt so special to be the partner of someone so undeniably incredible.

Suddenly, the oven beeps, snapping her out of her thoughts as she pulls out the chicken to go along with your pasta, the appetizer of calamari already prepared as it layed on a wire rack, as well as the chocolate chip cookies which she had prepared earlier in the day to make sure she had time to make enough.

Once she finished up, she plated the table for the two of you as she had kicked everyone out for her special dinner with you, wanting you all to herself. She smiled as she lit the candles and set up the plates along with the knives and forks, laying the plate of calamari in the middle as she kept her entree and dessert a secret from you.

Hearing her phone go off, she grins once she sees that you’ve texted that you’ve just arrived.

Taking her apron off as quickly as possible, she rushes downstairs to open the door for you, exhilarated at the thought of seeing you.

Swinging the door open, you smile softly at her while she grins, bursting forward to wrap you in a tight hug.

“Hi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her. “Happy anniversary.”

“Can you take a break from doctoring once in a while?” she mutters into your neck.

“I wish,” you say, wrapping your arms tighter around her.

Once she lets go, she grabs your hand to pull you upstairs, excited to surprise you.

“Wanda, what’s the rush?” you ask as you make your way up the stairs.

“I missed you too much, come on!” she says, making you laugh.

Once you finally make it to the top floor, Wanda stops you from walking any further. “Close your eyes,” she says.

You shoot her a look.

“Trust me,” she says, pecking your lips quickly.

Closing your eyes, you say, “What now?”

“Okay, I’m gonna guide you,” she says excitedly as she stands behind you, starting to lead you to the dining room table.

“This is not how I expected our anniversary to go.”

“Just trust me,” Wanda says.

Nodding, you continue to walk in the direction Wanda guides you before she stops you in place.

“Okay, ready?” she says and you nod. “Three, two, one, open your eyes!”

You open your eyes, and they widen in shock as you see the most beautiful candlelit dinner you’ve ever seen in your life.

Wanda has swapped out the regular dining room table for a round one covered in a shiny white tablecloth, as well as swapped out the regular wooden chairs for more expensive looking ones that match the elegance of the table. The plates and utensils are arranged perfectly, along with the restaurant quality napkins that were beautifully folded so they were standing upright, absolutely nothing was out of place, and the calamari in the middle was cooked to perfection, the smell wafting towards you no doubt making you hungry.

It looked like Wanda had taken the appearance of a michelin star restaurant and copied it to perfection right here in the Avengers compound.

But what was even more unbelievable was the string of lights she had arranged all throughout the room, from every nook and cranny, the lights brought a hope to the dinner that nearly brought tears to your eyes at how romantic and calm they made the room feel.

And finally, to top it all off, right in the middle of the array of candles on the table was a large vase of your favorite flowers.

Flowers you had only ever mentioned to her once when she asked you, and you had told her not to worry about it because you could only ever get them in New Zealand.

“What do you think?” she asks, coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You quickly turn to wrap her in a tight hug, squeezing so tightly you’re surprised she can even breathe. “I love you,” you breathe out. “So much.”

Wanda laughs. “Does that mean you like it?” she says teasingly before continuing, “I love you too,” she kisses the crown of your head.

Burrowing deeper into her, you mumble, “I can’t believe...I can’t believe I’m really here.”

You remember how awful you felt 2 years ago, how hopeless you felt. How unworthy you felt. Now, standing here in Wanda’s arms, who you’re still convinced is much too good to be true, feeling so so loved, everything feels surreal.

“I have the same thought about you,” Wanda says, her powers running amok as she accidentally reads your mind again and hears your thoughts about her. “You’re too good. Sometimes I can’t believe you exist.”

“Stop,” you say as your cheeks turn red against her neck.

“Happy anniversary,” she says softly. “I have another surprise for you.”

That makes you look up. “What is it?”

“Join me for dinner and I’ll tell you,” she says cheekily.

“Why can’t you tell me now?” You pout.

“Nice try, but I didn’t spend all day cooking this meal for nothing.” She runs her hands up and down your arms. “Besides, you deserve a nice relaxing dinner after all the work you’ve done the past few weeks.”

You look up at her with a shimmering look in your eyes and a lovesick smile on your face.

“What?” she laughs.

“Just happy,” you reply, kissing her lips.

“You deserve it,” Wanda says easily. “Now come on!”

She leads you over to the table by the hand, pulling out your chair for you as you sit down, planting a quick kiss on your lips before sitting down across from you.

You share countless smiles and laughs as you have the best dinner of your life, zoning out a couple times as Wanda talks and you simply admire her for everything she is.

And as you bite into your chocolate chip cookie after Wanda has revealed the enormous batch she made, she’s telling you what the surprise from earlier was.

“So, I’ve checked your schedule,” she says excitedly. “And since you’re free this weekend I booked us a vacation in Palm Springs! The weather’s perfect, and you’ll finally get to relax after working so hard, plus, they have amazing grass tennis courts and I know you’ve been wanting to get back into playing since you don’t have much time for it anymore–”

“Wanda,” you cut off softly, shaking your head.

You can’t even begin to comprehend that tonight is real at all.

“What?” she asks, looking at you with a smile.

“Every time I start to think you couldn’t get more perfect you just…”

“I get the same feeling about you,” she says, making you blush. “But I’m not perfect.” She takes a hold of both of your hands and rubs her thumbs over the backs softly. “However, I do love you, so much, and I want to show it.”

“Well, you’re perfect for me,” you reply, meeting her gaze and smiling softly as the two of you just stare at each other. But suddenly, it clicks in your head. “How did you know I used to play tennis?”

Wanda blushes before she starts off shyly, “Um, before we started dating I went to your hospital to see if you were there, but you weren’t so I may have asked your oncology friends a couple things about you.”

“So you stalked me?” you tease.

“I couldn’t help it I had a crush on you!” she defends, letting go of your hands and putting her head into her arms. “I still have a crush on you.”

“How embarrassing,” you comment with a chuckle.

“It’s not embarrassing,” she defends as she lifts her head from her arms. “Have you seen how pretty you are?”

You blush, ducking your head down so your hair covers your face slightly. Even after a year of dating Wanda always managed to fluster you to no end.

“Wow, now who’s embarrassed,” Wanda teases back.

“Shut up, I hate you,” you say, embarrassed.

“Wow, that’s not very American of you,” she says with a chuckle.

“Take that back,” you say, lifting your head and narrowing your eyes at her.

“If you say yes to the Palm Springs trip.”

“I thought I already said yes.”

“Not verbally,” she emphasizes.

“I’ll go anywhere you go,” you say easily.

“Cute cop-out, but I need the word yes,” she says, sitting up and kissing your lips quickly before sitting back down.

“Yes,” you relent with a smile. “I’ll go to Palm Springs with you.”

“Good,” she smiles before a mischievous twinkle brings itself out in her eyes. “So I’ll get to watch you play tennis all weekend. I can already imagine how hot that’ll be…”

“Why do you insist on teasing me?”

“‘Cause you look so cute when you’re flustered.”

You shake your head, taking a bite of your chocolate chip cookie to distract yourself from the way Wanda was making you feel.

But instead she decides to mess with you even more, softly saying the words “so american” as she watches you.

And Wanda telling you she loves you made you the most flustered of all.

***

You had gotten Wanda a necklace for your anniversary, and she had gotten you a bracelet with both of your initials on them.

Now, waking up in your hotel in Palm Springs, you smile once you see the bracelet on your wrist. You turn in bed to see if Wanda was there, but you frown once you see the empty spot next to you.

Where was she?

You wonder where she could be, because she would never leave to go to breakfast without you, nor would she head out without telling you where she was going after waking you up with a soft kiss.

You don’t know where she could have gone.

But soon, your question is answered as she enters the room, a large tray of your favorite breakfast foods in her hands as she greets you with a smile.

You tilt your head in confusion.

“Hi,” she says, setting down the tray and kissing you on the lips. “I made you breakfast.”

Your heart flutters and your stomach fills with butterflies. “How did you manage to do this?”

“Turns out that locked room isn’t a closet, but a tiny kitchen,” she explains, pointing to the aforementioned room. “I found out after I woke up early this morning by accident.”

“I missed you,” you say, hugging her side. “Where’d you get the food from?”

“Magic,” she replies easily.

“Oh, right, I forgot I’m dating a witch,” you chuckle, hugging her tighter.

“I’m not a witch,” she says defiantly. “I was voted most powerful Avenger at Tony’s ceremony last year.”

“They’re right,” you say, looking over to the breakfast tray and smiling once you see the gorgeous rose that lays on its side. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not a witch.”

“I’m a not-witch who’s really in love with you.”

“And I’m a not-doctor who’s really in love with you.”

“Well, then we agree to disagree,” she says, putting the tray in front of you, silently telling you to start enjoying your meal.

“Mhm,” you say, eating a forkful of the omelet she had prepared and moaning at the taste. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“My mother taught me, back in Sokovia,” she says quickly, heat flushing to her cheeks after she hears the sound you had made. Shifting from her position on the bed to move behind you, she gently shifts you forward slightly so she can sit behind you and outstretch her legs as she wraps her arms around your middle.

You lean your head back to rest against her shoulder. “She taught you really well,” you say, closing your eyes.

“Detka, are you gonna fall asleep while eating breakfast?” she laughs.

“No, I’m just savoring this moment,” you reply, kissing her shoulder. “And I want to savor this breakfast too.”

“Yeah? I’m that good?” she says with a chuckle.

“You are,” you say, opening your eyes to look up at her. “In fact, I might marry you right now if you keep this up.”

“I’d do it every day just for you,” she replies, kissing your lips.

And when you smile at her, that beautiful smile that makes Wanda’s heart beat faster than she can comprehend, she seriously considers pulling out the ring from her pocket to propose to you right in your hotel room.

***

“Baby? Wake up,” Wanda whispers, bright and early in the morning on September 8th.

You groan, not wanting to get up.

Wanda laughs. “Come on, it’s your birthday,” she says, kissing you on your forehead.

“Doesn’t that mean I should get to sleep in,” you grumble, burying yourself deeper into the pillows. “Come cuddle with me,” you say, sleepily patting the spot next to you where Wanda had slept last night.

“As much as I would love to, if I cuddle you right now you’re only gonna end up sleeping for another hour. And there’s a bunch of things prepared for your special day,” she says softly.

“Another hour sounds great, thanks,” you mumble as you start to feel yourself drift off.

“No, no, no, come on!” she laughs, gently pulling the blankets off your body.

“It’s cold,” you groan as the air of the room starts to wash over your body.

“Because you and I sleep in negative degrees,” Wanda says teasingly before gently sitting down on your bed to hug you tightly.

After a few minutes, you accept your fate as you sit up with a sigh against the headboard, Wanda letting go of you to grab the glass of water on your nightstand to hand to you.

“Happy birthday,” she says softly as you take a sip of the water and she watches you with a smile.

You kiss her gently. “Thanks.”

“How’d you sleep?” she asks.

“Really well.” You grin. “I got to cuddle with you all night.”

“Last night must have helped too–”

“I will throw this water in your face if you finish that sentence,” you cut her off, starting to blush.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she says with a smirk. “You’re really hot when you’re angry.”

“So, theoretically if I yelled at you, you’d just end up wanting to have sex?”

“First,” she says. “You would never yell at me.” You give her a look, and she just smiles smugly because she knows she’s right. You were way too nice to ever yell at anyone. Even animals. “And second, yes, that’s usually how that works.”

“You’re a middle school boy,” you say with a shake of your head.

Wanda just smiles before kissing you deeply. “Can’t help it.” She brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” you say back.

Wanda grins. “Ready for your birthday?” she asks, standing up from the bed and holding out her hand for you to take.

You nod, smiling as you take it and stand up, kissing her quickly before she starts to take you through the day she had planned.

And when you’re back, cutting into your birthday cake to hand out to the team members (Natasha was on a mission in Africa) which Wanda had baked, you’re back after a sunrise picnic full of your favorite foods, a relaxing walk across the beach, lunch at your favorite diner, a tour of your favorite locations in New York City as well as somehow meeting your favorite tennis player on the Arthur Ashe stadium of the US Open (you have absolutely no clue how Wanda pulled that off), you turn to your incredible girlfriend, who’s already staring at you with an adoring gaze in her eyes.

Softly, you say, “I’m so in love with you.”

You never knew your heart could ever feel this full.

“I’m so in love with you too,” she replies, kissing you in the most gentle way yet somehow still communicating the deepest sense of passion. “Happy 24th, detka.”

You want to cry, you want to cry the happiest tears of your life because, god, you have no idea how you got so lucky to have this woman in your life.

But instead, you kiss her on the lips, hoping it says everything you need to.

And Wanda knows exactly what you’re saying.

***

“Oh, my god, what if it’s too much!” you ramble to Yelena as you pace back and forth in your apartment back home.

“You’ve been dating her for 4 years, you idiot,” Yelena replies, rolling her eyes.

“Exactly! What if this is like a 5-year thing, or 7 years– Or, god, I don’t know!”

“Y/N,” she says, grabbing your attention. “Listen, this is ridiculous. That girl is so disgustingly in love with you, you could tell her you’ve hated her all this time and she would still think you gave her the sun or something.”

You frown. “I could never hate Wanda.”

“God, you two are insufferable,” Yelena sighs.

But Yelena’s secretly so happy to see that you’ve finally found someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.

“Hey!”

“For God’s sake, just go tell her you don’t like ravioli.”

“It’s her favorite food! We eat it every Thursday just for her!”

“It’s actually you who’s her favorite food.”

“What? Yelena, I swear–”

Later that day, Wanda accepts your revelation with a smile on her face and a kiss on your cheek.

***

“Wanda,” you say softly as you two walk hand-in-hand through the streets of New York.

“Yeah?” she says, turning to face you with a small smile.

“So, I don’t want to assume this,” you pause, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. “But, will you go out to dinner with me?”

Wanda grins. “We’ve been dating for four years and you don’t want to assume that I’ll go to dinner with you?”

“Well, you might be busy!” you defend.

Wanda laughs. “I’m never too busy for you, milaya.”

“You’re just saying that. What if there’s a criminal who shows up out of the blue and you’re needed for superhero business or something…”

“Then we’ll reschedule,” Wanda says, shrugging. “And I’ll make sure I always have time for you.”

You bite your lip anxiously. “What if…what if you don’t come back one day?” your voice trembles.

“Oh, baby,” Wanda says, hugging you. “I’ll always come back to you.”

“You can’t know that,” you mumble into her shirt.

“But I do,” she says, holding you by your shoulders and pulling away slightly. “Because you’re worth every bit fighting for, and I’ll always make sure that I keep fighting until I see your face again.”

Wanda frowns as she watches the tears roll down your cheeks.

Wiping them away with her thumb, she says softly, “I love you. I’ll always come back to the person I love most in the world.”

“I love you too,” you reply, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she tells you. “I’m always happy to care for you.”

“I’m really hopelessly in love with you,” you say quietly only for Wanda to hear.

“The feeling’s mutual, detka.”

***

Wanda was going to propose to you tonight.

It was almost Christmas, which she had found out in your first year of dating was your favorite time of year (besides her birthday or your guys’ anniversary) because it made you feel like you belonged somewhere.

Wanda smiled while she watched you from the couch, biting the nail of your thumb as you thought carefully of which ornament to put next on the Christmas tree.

She was so in love with you, your work ethic, how much you cared for her, how loved you made her feel. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.

“Wanda?” you ask, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, detka?” she replies, looking over at you.

You point to the box of blue and silver ornaments by her feet. “Can you pass me the silver one shaped like a Christmas tree?”

Nodding, she grabs the ornament from the box and makes her way over to you, hugging you from behind as you placed it carefully on the branch only a little bit taller than you.

“How does it look?” you ask with a smile, turning your head slightly to kiss her on the cheek.

“Even better than last year,” she replies, squeezing you tighter.

If someone didn’t stop her soon, she was going to propose to you right then and there.

In order to stop herself, she clears her throat and steps back from you a bit, letting go, hoping you don’t notice her actions.

However, you know her too well, and you turn to look at her with a small furrow of your brows.

Wanda gives an awkward smile. “Um, I’m gonna get started on the cookies,” she says, pointing towards the kitchen.

“Okay,” you say slowly.

Wanda nods, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving you to head towards the previously mentioned room.

Once Wanda’s in the kitchen, she lets out a sigh, wondering how she was going to get through the day without breaking down due to her nerves. Wanda checked her back pocket, making sure the ring was still there, and felt a sense of relief once she felt it’s black box.

She had it planned perfectly. After tonight’s holiday party with the team (which she had exclusively made sure Natasha could not make it), she was going to take you to the coffee shop where you two had first met, then she was going to take you to Shakespeare’s garden where you two had first admitted you loved each other, and she was going to officially propose to you at the firework show she had begged Tony to help her host.

Everything had to be perfect.

“Wanda?” you startled her out of her thoughts as you knocked on the doorway. Furrowing your brows, you ask, “are you alright?”

“What? Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” Wanda replies awkwardly, looking down at her feet and shifting awkwardly.

You laugh slightly, “Baby, you haven’t even started on the cookies.” You walk over to her, seeing nothing but two eggs on the counter in front of her and nothing else.

Wanda gulps slightly at your close proximity. How stupid that she had been dating you for 6 years yet you still made her feel like a teenager in high school. “I did…” she says weakly.

“Oh yeah?” you tease. “How delicious if we left out two eggs with milk for Old St. Nick?” You pick up an egg between your fingers to show her.

“It’ll give him something new to try,” Wanda shrugs.

Sighing, you put the egg down, and cup your girlfriend’s cheeks in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over them. “What’s going on?” you say gently.

“Just nervous,” Wanda admits.

“Nervous for what?” you ask, brushing a tendril of hair away from her face.

“You make me nervous,” Wanda says, relenting as she rests her forehead on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect,” she mumbles into your shirt.

Your heart feels like it might explode. “I don’t understand,” you say as you shake your head. “How are you the nervous one yet somehow you still make me feel like I’m gonna burst with happiness?”

Wanda smiles against your shirt. “It’s ‘cause I love you.”

“And I love you,” you reply.

“You know, we still have about 2 hours until Tony’s party…” she says suggestively, starting to kiss her way up your neck.

“More than enough time for you to help me finish the tree,” you say lightheartedly.

Wanda groans. “I hate you.”

“Too late, you’re stuck with me already.” You grin as you grab her hand and lead her into the living room, the cookies unspokenly abandoned.

Little did you know, Wanda wanted nothing more than to be stuck with you for the rest of her life.

And tonight, she was going to make it official.

***

“Why the fuck is it so cold,” Wanda muttered, rubbing her bare arms to warm herself up, before intertwining your hands once again. “It’s way colder than the temperature you and I sleep in.”

“Because Pepper’s here,” you say easily. “And Tony turns the place into an ice box just for her.”

“Can’t he just invite some sort of nano-machine that keeps it cold for her all the time? He’s got the money,” Wanda says bitterly.

You chuckle. “Come on, grumpy,” you start to pull her onto the dance floor. “This ought to warm you up.”

Wanda accepts as you wrap your arms around her shoulders and she wraps hers around your waist, the two of you becoming lost in your own little world as you admire one another in your respective dresses.

“You look so pretty,” she tells you, awestruck at your beauty.

“So do you,” you say, taking her in before resting your head on her shoulder, swaying as the two of you try to stay as close as you possibly can.

Wanda closes her eyes as she rests her cheek on the crown of your head, feeling so content with you in her arms.

“When did you first know?” you whisper next to her ear.

“When you made that stupid pun,” Wanda says, and she giggles once she hears you groan in embarrassment.

“That’s the worst one you could’ve said,” you say, lifting your head up from her shoulder to meet her gaze.

“Can’t help it,” she says, kissing you quickly. “It was so adorable.”

“I still think it’s insane that you actually find me funny,” you shake your head.

“I’ll laugh at all your jokes,” she replies easily. “It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

“Are all Sokovians this romantic?”

“Are all Americans this incredible?”

You both grin stupidly at each other before the two of you can’t take it and kiss each other deeply, pouring every ounce of love you feel for one another.

“Nope,” Wanda says as she pulls away. “Just my so American girlfriend.”

You smile, kissing her again, and again, and again.

And Wanda thinks it wasn’t fair of you either, to make her feel this much.

***

“Wanda, where are we going?” you laugh as she pulls you through the streets of New York.

“I need to show you something, come on!” she says, stopping once you realize where she’s brought the two of you.

The coffee shop where you first met.

“What are we doing here?” you ask, unable to stop the cheesy grin that makes its way onto your face.

“It’s a surprise, come on,” she replies, opening the door for you and letting you in. Once she shuts the door behind her, you turn, and your eyes soften once you see the shiny look in her eyes. “I’m taking you on a tour,” she says, guiding you to the back table where you two had first spoken.

“A tour of what?” you say, smiling as you follow her.

“A tour of how much I love you.”

And Wanda only falls deeper and deeper in love once she sees the happy tears in your eyes when she reveals your coffee cup from when the two of you had first met, which she had kept all this time.

***

“No way,” you say with awe as your next stop comes into your line of sight, the coffee cup held safely in your hand at your side.

“And I re-made the batch of cookies we shared that day,” Wanda said, pulling a tupperware of cookies from behind her back as you follow her onto the bridge of Shakespeare’s garden.

“What made you do all this?” you ask, shaking your head in disbelief as you come up to her to wrap your arms around her shoulders.

“It’s a surprise,” she replies, kissing you. “But for now, I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

“I do,” you say easily. “Every day.”

“Good,” Wanda grins. “And I’m gonna keep showing you.”

***

Wanda might not even propose tonight.

In fact, she doesn’t know if she’ll even remember as she’s lost in awe at how beautiful you look under the stars, holding the rail that separates you from the body of water in front of you while standing on top of a craggly rock, the booming fireworks causing your eyes to shine in a way that makes Wanda want to capture this moment forever.

But, she’s on a mission.

And when it came to you, Wanda always put her best foot forward.

“They’re so beautiful,” you say, completely in awe as you watch the colors explode in the sky.

“Just like you,” Wanda says softly.

“You know, I still really want to know why you did all this,” you say, turning to her and smiling once you see her already watching you. “I didn’t miss any special date, did I?”

“Of course you didn’t, your google calendar is already filled to the brim,” she replies with a teasing roll of her eyes.

“Well, if I didn’t have everything booked then you would forget all of your check-up appointments with your doctor,” you reply cheekily.

“You’re already a doctor.”

“Not the right kind of doctor.”

“You’re actually exactly my kind of doctor,” Wanda flirts, making you blush.

“I hate you. That was awful,” you say as you turn away.

And as you watch the fireworks in the sky once again, Wanda decides, now’s the time.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing her nerves, she gets down on one knee.

Then, almost robotically, she pulls out the ring, opening the box slowly, as if any sudden movement would cause the whole thing to shatter.

She just needed you to turn her way.

To turn your head slightly and see her message for you.

I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.

It feels as if time has stopped.

All she feels is the beating of her heart through her chest, the blood pounding in her ears, and her nerves washing over her over and over again– and all she needs is for you to look.

It feels like hours before you–

Then, you do.

And it’s slow, and careful, and gentle, and so you.

You gasp.

And Wanda shakily breathes out, “Will you marry me, detka?”

Both of your hands cover your mouth, and tears build in your eyes.

And Wanda feels the happiest she has ever felt–

When you croak out a yes.

Wanda wants to keep this moment forever. She wants to remember how full her heart feels when she slips the ring onto your finger. The feel of your lips on her own when you kiss her hard through both of your tears and your laughs of disbelief.

It’s the happiest day of her life.

And it’s the happiest day of yours, too.

***

“I’m so, so, in love with you,” you say as the two of you walk back to your shared home, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I’m so in love with you too, detka,” Wanda replies, kissing your temple as she holds you close.

“When you were a kid, did you ever think you were going to have an American girlfriend?” you chuckle.

“I never did,” Wanda admits with a smile. “But I couldn’t be happier that I ended up with a beautiful, so American fiancée.”

You blush at the new title, hiding your reddening face in your fiancée’s neck. “Tonight doesn’t even feel real,” you mumble after a moment.

Wanda laughs slightly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Suddenly, out of curiosity, you ask, “When did you buy that ring?”

“A week after we started dating,” Wanda says resolutely.

“What?” Your head snaps up from her neck.

“I just knew,” Wanda says, kissing the tip of your nose. “I knew you were going to be my wife.”

“That’s…” you shake your head in disbelief. “Wow.”

Wanda pulls you closer to her. “It was the easiest thing I’ve ever known. Wanna know why?”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because, from the first day I met you, I knew, you were everything to me. And you still are.”

Your eyes start to water. “I’m everything to you?”

“You are,” Wanda nods, kissing the crown of your head with so much tenderness it makes you want to cry.

But, you don’t start to cry because of the kiss.

And you don’t start to cry out of joy although you really, really want to.

No. The tears finally escape your eyes as you realize that you finally have everything you’ve ever wanted.

That you’re finally, finally everything to somebody else.

“You’re everything to me too.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wandamaximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel mcu #mcu #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wlw post

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dreamsteddie · 29 days ago

Text

The Other Bank

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This is a repost of something I worked on earlier in the year. It's one of my favorite concepts but it didn't get much traction so I thought I'd give her one more try!

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There is something so beautiful and melancholy about the idea of failed rockstar Eddie who was on the verge of being a major hit but ended up giving up his dreams because he didn't like who he was turning into.

Eddie who leaves Hawkins behind as quickly as he can and dedicates his entire life, every waking moment, to building up his music career. He sleeps on couches for years, staying with whoever will take him in for a night or two in exchange for a bump of coke or joint from the remains of his sizeable Reefer Kick stash. He carries everything he owns in the back of his trunk. Amp, wires, guitars, clothes, etc and basically converts it into a portable practice studio.

He plays every gig he can get his hands on. Playing as a last-minute substitute guitar or base for any band that calls, playing for pop bands and punk bands alike until he convinces enough people to join up with him and start a new metal band.

With the band comes more stability, for a while. They share a cramped two-bedroom among the five of them. Writing and jamming every day, going home to smoke up and decompress.

Just over four years after Eddie lands in the city, they play their first real show. A show at a respectable, if small, bar venue with people in the audience there to see them. People sing their songs and dance to their music. It's not sold out, not even close really, but it's the start of something big, they can all feel it. That night they go out to the club around the block with a couple of people who came to the show and party harder than Eddie ever has before. He wakes up with that distinctly fuzzy feeling the next morning that tells him he dipped into the harder drugs the night before, something he hasn't done since he learned his dad passed three years ago.

It scares him. He can't remember anything past walking into the club last night. He doesn't remember anything he did or said and desperately hopes he didn't do anything weird with a fan, but he brushes it off. Tells himself it was a one-time thing, a celebration of their success. They deserved to let loose, right?

Except it wasn't a one-time thing. In fact, it turns into an almost every night kind of thing, and as their fan base grows what feels like overnight, the parties grow in intensity with them. They play their hearts out on stage, eventually selling out all of the smaller local venues and moving on to the larger, more serious ones. The occasional disagreement over music between the band members turns into larger, more personal arguments. Eventually, they reach Fleetwood Mac Rumors Era levels of drama. Everyone is sleeping around, the drugs are out of control, and they can't hardly stand to be in the same room together anymore, only pulling it together enough to go on stage at the end of the day.

Eddie lives that handful of years in a daze. It can mostly be attributed to the copious amounts of alcohol he's turned to to cope with the stress, but he uses his fair share of snow to keep himself in the creative spirit too. It feels inevitable when he reaches a kind of low he doesn't know if he can come back from.

Eddie wasn't a saint, but he has always sworn off meth. It was the thing that killed his mom. He remembers the way she'd wasted away, the days when she seemed crazed, and how sorry she was to him when she stabilized. The regret in her eyes when she looked at him. But when he's asked if he wants a needle all he can think about is the prospect of spending the rest of his life stuck with this band full of people he can't stand and people who can't stand him if the record deal they've been negotiating goes through, and it feels like it will.

Thinks of what all his hard work will mean if it doesn't.

He says yes.

Wakes up the next day starfished in the alley of an apartment he doesn't recognize staring up at the little sliver of blue sky he can see between the fire escapes and weeps. He's become exactly the kind of person he never wanted to be, some asshole almost rich guy laying in a damp alleyway all alone with no real friends.

Eddie lies there for an hour just thinking. Trying to remember when the last time he called Wayne was. Thinking of all the girls he slept with when he probably shouldn't have, when they were both too fucked up to make the right choice. Thinks of his mom and dad.

Tries to remember the last time he made the world a better place to live in instead of contributing to the filth.

He gets up and leaves. Leaves it all behind. Gets in a taxi to take him to where his van is parked by the venue from last night. Frantically takes everything out of the back and leaves it on the street. The only things that remain are the few keepsakes he brought with him to the city and his acoustic, the one his mom left him and Wayne helped him paint. The amps, his sweetheart, and the performance wear all get dumped on the side of the road and then he's jumping into the front seat.

Hours of driving leads him back home to Hawkins Indiana, the one place he promised never to return. Hawkins has seen a boom in the last few years, it seems. More shops, a bigger main street. He even spots a proper cafe. It all feels less haunted than he remembers. More people, fewer familiar faces. The trailer park, though, looks almost the same as it did the day he left, right down to the sight of his uncle lounging on the porch, waiting patiently for whatever comes next the way he always has.

Wayne doesn't ask any questions, not right away. He just scoops his nephew up in his arms and holds him in the cool morning air. He always knew his nephew better than anyone else, never needed words to know when he needed his uncle to help hold up the weight of the world.

And that's how Eddie finds his way back home. It takes a while for him to feel well enough to face the world again. A mixture of detoxing and coming to terms with the feeling of starting back at the beginning, like the last six years of his life didn't even happen leaves him licking his wounds in his partially empty childhood bed. It looks the same way it did when he walked out the front door.

When he does come back to the world, he starts small. Stepping out on the porch to share a cup of coffee with his uncle feels like one of the hardest things he's ever done. Maybe the most important.

He's proven right when he steps out to find he's not the only guest his uncle is entertaining this morning. Another resident of the park has already claimed the second chair as his own.

Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington who never made it out of Hawkins but also never regretted it. Who's made a small, happy life for himself here in the trailer park after his parents kicked him out for good when he turned 20. Who works part-time under the table at Miller's Mechanic and collects disability checks for the lost leg and minor brain damage he got from a car accident at 21. Steve Harrington who keeps his uncle company and makes sure he has everything he needs, taking care of the other residents in the park to the best of his ability doing easy car maintenance, babysitting, or just offering company to the more lonely residents.

Steve is so different from the guy Eddie vaguely knew in high school that he might as well be a stranger. They all sit and talk together for the entire morning, laughing and sharing stories. Steve never asks about where he's been or why he's back and Eddie wishes he could tell Steve how much he appreciates it.

Before Steve heads back he asks if Eddie would like to come over after he gets back from his shift. Asks if he wants to drink a beer and watch a movie. Eddie is quick, maybe too quick judging by the sympathetic look Steve sends his way, to turn down the beer and scoop up the movie invitation like the precious thing it is. There's something about Steve that soothes his soul. An easy connection between them that Eddie hopes they both feel.

Steve kisses him that night, slow and easy like they've been doing it their whole lives. Like they didn't basically meet for the first time this morning. Like Eddie hasn't been in denial about his sexuality for his entire life. Eddie cries at the warmth it fills him with. Steve just cradles him by the cheeks and lets him. That night Eddie doesn't go back to Wayne's. He lets Steve drag him to bed and hold him close. Lets him tangle their legs together and breathe warm air into the crown of his head until morning.

Steve shows Eddie how to live a life without big dreams, a life without ambition but full of love and comfort. A life without plans but with the knowledge that every day, someone who loves you will kiss you when you wake up and hold you through the night.

#steddie #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #dreamer speaks #cw drugs

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literaryslapshot · 8 months ago

Text

LUNCH ⎯ C. Berzatto

carmen interviews a new girl for the recent waitressing job at the bear, and she's been the recent reason for his journal entries the past two weeks.

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: sexual themes (18+ MDNI), cuss words, carmen being super whipped but also kind of a perv, reader is kind of a ditz but so am i, reader has tats because i do too, reader also doesnt have much dialogue bc it's mostly from his pov.

word count: 1k

a/n: not really based off any specific episode or season in the series. i just love carmy so much <3

"Chef i need you to take over for at least an hour, i got an interview in 10." Carmen instructed Sydney, walking into the office as the kitchen staff began to prepare for open. The staff- mainly Sydney, Richie, and Carmen desperately needed a waiter in house. With how busy the restaurant was beginning to get they needed more than Nat out there.

"Are you gonna hire her?" Sydney asked; Carmen had briefed her about the applicant a day prior. He sat down, refreshing himself on the resume before meeting with her.

"Well she's the only applicant so far, so I don't really think I have a choice chef," before he could finish his thought he heard the chime of the entrance door. Glancing down at the time it read 10:51.

Early, off to a good start, he said to himself quietly. He gave one puff of cologne on his neck to try and musk the smell of kitchen before going out into the front of house to start the interview. Carmen forgot how to breathe for just a few seconds when he saw her- easily the most beautiful person he's seen walk in his restaurant.

"Um- Hi I'm Carmen Berzatto, the owner, you must be Y/N?" He introduces through a deep breath and a shaky hand that he extends. She takes it with a smile, following his lead. The soft taps of her high top converse against the tile floor, the flow of her skirt twirling as she turns in front of him slightly. It's exhilarating.

"Can I get you something to drink before we start? Water, a soda, coffee?" He offers, standing tall next to the table side. She grins and shakes her head denying his offer, her sweet sounding voice making butterflies flutter around in his stomach. That hasn't happened in a while.

They make small talk for a little while, Carmen asking pre-thought out ice breakers before getting to the real questions. But if he's honest with himself he isn't even listening to her answers. He's too focused on the way her lips move and how she purses her lips when she thinks about an answer.

He's taken great notice of the tattoos she has on her arms, in similar places to his own, all black outlined like his too. one is written in french, he assumes, right above her wrist on her arm. One is two small birds on the inside of her forearm. He wants to pause the interview just to talk about what they all mean to her. Partially because he wants to hear her voice for the rest of his life. He wants to press record on his phone and listen to her talk about whatever she wants to, her voice is that angelic.

"Can I ask you what the tattoo on your hand means?" she asked and he thought he was going to faint because she grabbed ahold of his hand gently to get a better look at it. She giggled when she got a better look at the artwork.

"It's to remind me to be careful when I chop vegetables, essentially," Carmen explained with a chuckle. "What does the one on your wrist mean?"

"Terre à terre, down to earth. I dont want to stray too far from who I was raised to be, so that's a reminder. I also have a couple more in french- my grandmother was french so I have a lot of french things in my life." She pulls up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal another tattoo, "étoile filante, shooting star. The first time I saw a shooting star was on my sixteenth birthday, my worst birthday actually."

He reminded himself to close his mouth because he knew he was about to start drooling, hearing the way her silky voice sounded even better in a foreign language.

He breezed through the interview, Natalie insisting that even though there are no other applicants and she'll probably get the job, do it the right way. "I'll give you a call by the end of the week, Y/N. It was a pleasure having you today." He shows her out of the restaurant, walking her to her car for safety, of course."

When Carmen got back inside, before he got to joining the team in prepping for the lunch crowd he pulled out his journal that he started to carry with him. It was full of various things: different dinner ideas to try out on the menu for a special, addresses, phone numbers, and other journal entries. he's made a habit of journal three times a week and he has a feeling he's going to be doing it a lot more with Y/N joining the team.

I could eat that girl for lunch. She smelled sweet like fuckin brownies or something, rich and delicious. Her tattoos, her gold necklaces, her smile, her skirt. I feel like a perv but god i know her skin would be so soft, and she'd have the best blind reactions to recipes, and i bet she'd taste good too. I'm closing the applications, this Y/N chick is gonna be the death of me.

"Hi Y/N, this is Carmen from The Bear, how're you?" he couldn't even wait a full 24 hours before he hired her. Embarrassing. "I just wanted to call and let you know that we're offering you the job if you are still interested." He bit the cap of his pen with a grin hearing her cheer and laugh on the other side of the phone. "Yea- yeah that's great, listen could you start Monday? I'll get you trained n'all that."

Carmen ends the phone call and moves some papers around on his desk, printing the papers for Y/N and putting them in her folder. He couldn’t stop grinning like a kid from hearing her excited voice over the phone.

Instantly he’s thinking of a million things to write in his journal about her. But he doesn’t have time, he needs to prep the special for tonights dinner service before anything else. Carmen will be thinking of her, however. Thinking of how soft her hands must be, or how sweet her chapstick tastes. He'll think of how it'll be nice to have her around, not just the help but to have someone with a softer tone around the place, too.

He thinks about Y/N while making glaze, mixing everything together to get that perfect spicy honey taste, he's imagining how her face lights up when she laughs. He doesn't even really know her yet but he's already making up what a first date would be like. He'd take her out for coffee, go see a movie, then go for a walk. But not too late, though. Even if she might be a night owl it's still inappropriate to keep a girl out past ten, at least that's what he read in some magazine a long time ago.

"Chef you ready to prep the team for tonight?" Sydney asked, interrupting his thoughts. He stumbled, dropping the spoon into the bowl and biting his tongue.

"Fuck- yeah, yeah I am."

"'M gonna go over the menu with you, if m'goin too fast then stop me." He pulls up a chair and tucks his hair behind his ears. Setting the laminated piece of paper in front of her, explaining each dish to her in firm detail. Carmen watches as her french tip acrylic nails trace along the menu, guiding along the words that he says from memory.

She's impressed, shocked even that he came up with this himself. She jokes that she can't cook and it gains a laugh from him.

"I'll teach you a few things, if ya want." He didn't mean for it to come out sounding like he was hitting on her...but secretly he was. Since when was he that slick with words?

I can't stop thinking about her. She's on my mind all the fuckin' time. She smelled really good, must have been her shampoo. I would love to just sit with her there, not sexually. Just be. I bet she's really calm and chill. I'd love to get ready with her in the mornings, again not sexually. To spend time, to laugh, to talk. I could eat that girl for lunch.

When Carmen walks into the front he catches Y/N taking pictures in the mirror by the entrance. He chuckles, watching her pose and smile. She turns around and gasps, cheeks getting darker when she realizes she's gotten caught.

"Sorry, the mirror is just so aesthetic."

"That? Um, okay? Guess we have different opinions of what aesthetic is." Carmen guides her to the back counter, teaching her how to count inventory of everything.

He feels out of place- no, he feels gross when he watches her bend down. He sees a peek of white lace stick out from the band of her jeans and he knows he shouldn't stare, but he can't help his mind from wandering. He wanders about what other types of underwear she might have, if she has any special ones, what they'd feel like wrapped-

"Carmen!" Sydney snaps him out of his daydream. "Sorry to interrupt, but you have a phone call from the AC guy." He's pulled away, for the better, but he knows he's going to write about this as soon as he gets the chance.

I'm interested in more than just being her boss. I could eat her alive, i'd let her take a seat on me wherever she wants for however long she wants. She'd taste like....like sweet watermelons on a sunny summer day. Yeah, something like that. She can't be real can she? I don't know how long I can keep acting professional. I just know she'd be the one for me.

・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。

feedback | masterlist

#j's writing #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #the bear imagine #the bear x reader

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court-jester-stuff · 8 months ago

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Sharing a room with a not so stranger

Azriel x reader

Warnings?: reader is shorter than Azriel, not beta we die like suriel, kinda rushed? idk it's 23:54 so meh enjoy

Note: the library is based of off the acropolis and what I image Olympus would look like, so is all the rest of the Day Court. pictures from pinterest

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"So sorry to bother you," a voice said from behind you. "Can I ask you for a favour?" Turning around you came face to face with Elain. She was dressed beautifully, a light pink coloured dress with a corset with flowers embroidered onto it, sleeves of the shoulders with on the shoulders and wrist embroidered the same flowers as the corset. Her hair was loose with a few braids which all had flowers in it. Truly you’d be lying if you said she didn’t look pretty.

“That depends on what the favour is of course.” You answered her with a smile. In all honesty you hoped it would be something entertaining, these past couple of days have been fun here at the Day Court but you were slowly growing bored. This whole event was to celebrate summer solstice, the Night Court was specifically invited by High Lord Helion as a means to grow a stronger alliance. A full two weeks of celebrating and getting to know each other.

Elain looked behind her and when you followed her gaze you could see Lucien standing in the doorway smiling at her and giving her an encouraging nod.

“Would you, by any chance, …” she trailed of looking at me with an air of hesitance. Giving her a little push you asked:

“Would I…?”

Elain sighed a little but finished her sentence. “Would you mind if Azriel and I switched rooms?” She paused to let the words sink in. “I would really like to try giving this a chance and we already asked Azriel and he’s fine with it, but only if you are. And I know you two aren’t all that familiar with each other but I would really appreciate this.”

At last she stopped talking to gage your reaction only to see a little smile on your face. “My dear, I would not mind at all. You two deserve this moment to try and see where this all leads you.” She perked up at your words and you could see Lucien visibly relax in the corner of your eye. “If Azriel is comfortable with this all then I do not mind.”

She thanked you and said that they would be sure to inform Azriel of you agreeing before they both took their leave.

Once they did take their leave you started thinking about what you just agreed to. In all honesty you and Azriel hadn’t really spoken in quite a while. As members of the Inner Circle it was kind of inevitable but that still didn’t change the conversations you had had with him.

He never seemed to speak much, especially not to you. Only during the rare times that he would ask for help with an injury would you two really talk. And even then it was mostly you talking to him about how to take care of the wound even though he has probably done so a million times.

You’d always find him looking at you with deep eyes whenever you’d look up from your work. He never really seemed to take his eyes off of you while you were working. Whether he was guarded or something else you couldn’t quite decide.

Outside of that there were a few conversations you had had with the spymaster. But lately that had started to change. You were in the habit of sneaking away during each social event to lend yourself a moment of fresh air before stepping back into the crowded rooms. However these last couple of, hell, years you always seemed to get the company of a certain shadowsinger wherever you had decided to sneak of to.

Not that you mind, in all honesty you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him. Each conversation, each interaction left you yearning for more. You wanted to hear him speak to you, you wanted to know who he was outside of this persona he had been given.

Deciding that you should try to make things easier for the both of you lead to you walking back to the room you previously shared with Elain with the goal in mind of tidying up a bit. Once there you put away any clothing that was lying around, noting that all of Elain her stuff had already been moved.

The room wasn’t big by any means, in fact you and Elain had specifically requested a smaller sized room. There was a wall with a huge window opposite of the door with the bed against the left wall and a couch on the opposite side next to the window.

Once you deemed the room clean enough you realized that the room might be cozy for you and Elain but Azriel would have trouble getting comfortable in the bed were there someone else in it. Deciding that there wouldn’t be enough space on the bed for both you while allowing his wings to rest comfortably and without the fear of accidental touching, you made the decision to move a pillow and blanket to the couch. Moving that what was on the night stand to the little table next to the couch.

A knock on the door made you pause. Assuming that it was either Elain or Azriel you went to open the door, only to be surprised by a smiling Helion.

“High Lord.” You said with a small bow of the head. You’ve always liked the man, he was polite and kind. A bit of a flirt maybe but still aware of boundaries. And he ruled his court exceptionally well. All people were well taken care of and very rarely did they find themselves in conflict with other courts. Compared to the Night Court which carried the looming darkness of The Court of Nightmares and Hewn City that was very admirable.

“Oh you, there is no need for such titles. Call me Helion, please.” He chuckled a bit at the formality of it all but still kept a smile on his face as he corrected you.

“Well then Helion, is there anything I can help you with?”

His smile widened a little at your question. His eyes sparkling a little. “I heard that you take care of a large portion of all the knowledge that is stored in the Night Courts library, I must say it is quite the collection. One to be proud of.”

Mirroring his smile you replied with a hint of proudness to your voice. “Yes, indeed. I travel a lot and when I do I can’t help but try to take at least one book with me to further the collection you speak so highly of.”

“Well, the Day Court does have quite the library as well and I thought that I could interest you in taking a look around.” He gestured with his hand down the left corridor.

Your gaze followed the direction from his hand before looking back inside the room. Everything seemed in order for when Azriel would arrive. “Is it just down the hallway?” You ask.

He shakes his head with the same smile on his face that has been there since you opened the door. “Why don’t I show you there, it’s a bit of a maze in here.”

You nodded and walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind you before making your way to the library. The empty hallways were filled with easy going small talk between the two of you before you eventually reached the library.

To say that it was beautiful would be an understatement. It was truly breathtaking. It looked like a place where gods would walk, the high ceilings and windows with no glass allowed as much natural light in as possible. The walls were a cream colour with beautiful paintings on the ceilings.

You should remember to tell Feyre so she could come get a look.

The bookcases were white with golden accents, they crowded the entire room except for the space right before the window. Leaving enough space for several couches and a table surrounded by chairs. Even the wood of the furniture was a light colour.

You don’t know how long you simply admired the space but when you turned around Helion was looking at you with a proud smile and a look of admiration on his face.

He clears his throat and says: “It’s beautiful is it not?” You weren’t really sure what to say. It was beautiful but outside of the beauty of it you were also surprised by its sheer size. Maybe it was the lighting but it looked so much more spacious than the library at the House Of Wind.

“It is very beautiful, I honestly don’t really know what to say. The lighting and colours are so much brighter than those of the ones we have. Even the books match the pale colours. And the amount of books here is admirable. This truly is a fine library.”

“Well, I am more than happy to have shown it to you. Please, feel free to look around and spent as much time here as you please. I’m afraid I cannot stay with you for much longer, duty calls, but rest assured that you are more then welcome in this library. Or even my court.”

You smiled slightly at his words and told him you would keep it in mind. It wasn’t for long before he excused himself and left you to your own company.

You roamed around looking for any books that peaked your interest and finally settled on a handful of them. You found another window with seating space, albeit this on smaller, and settled down on the plush couch facing slightly away from the window.

You don’t know how much time you spend sitting there but when you finally looked up from the third book that you were reading you realized that the sun had set and the sky was now adorned with stars. Granted, there weren’t as many or as bright of ones as in Valaris but it was a sight none the less.

Deciding to call it a night you got up and realised just how long you had been sitting in that same position you stretched and gathered the books you had laying around you. Walking up to the desk you left the books there for someone to find in the morning.

The hallways were quiet now, beside your own steps and breathing there as nothing to be heard.

Ones you had made your way back to your room you were very careful while opening the door as to not startle or wake up Azriel.

When the door was open far enough to slip inside you did so carefully, the room was bathed in moonlight and given the light you could see Azriel’s sleeping figure on the bed. He had moved himself fairly far to the window leaving enough space for a second person to lay down next to him if needed.

But you didn’t need to and getting in the bed would mean having to move his left wing out of the way and you weren’t about to touch the one place that Illyrians loathed to be touched.

Quietly making you way to the bathroom you quickly changed into night clothing and treaded very lightly to the couch. You laid down and when you finally settled you felt something twirling itself around your fingers. Looking down you realised it was a shadow. You smiled at it, mouthing good night before it parted from you to return to their master and with that you went off into slumber.

When you woke up again there was not yet any sunlight in the room. You looked over at the clock on the wall above the door and noted that it was almost time for sunrise. You looked over at Azriel realising he was still fast asleep and decided to take one of the books of your little makeshift nightstand before shuffling to the open balcony.

It must be a dream for winged people to be able to simply fly up to their rooms from the outside without having to first enter and walk both the hallways and stairs.

You sat down on a sofa that was located opposite to where the bed stood so you could keep an eye on Azriel in case he were to awake.

Before long the sunrise started, it was truly magnificent. The colours weren’t simply red, pink and yellow. No, you were sure you could make out nearly the entire rainbow from the sky.

You once again felt a little coolness around your fingers which finally prompted you to look away from the scenery.

“Hello you, we meet again.” You smiled softly at it while speaking in a whisper, mindful of the early time. “What are doing over here, hm? Shouldn’t you be guarding your master?”

It moved around your fingers and palm before deciding to return to the figure on the bed. Looking over you realised you had been caught making small talk with a shadow.

From the bed a tired looking Azriel looked at you with eyes of wonder. “Good morning.” You greeted. “You should go back to sleep, it’s still very early.” Which granted it was. Looking at the clock once more you saw that it read six.

He hummed as if in thought before turning his head into the pillows and stretching. His legs coming out from beneath the blanket and his wings stretching wide. They nearly hit the wall on his right from how wide they were.

He relaxed again before letting himself fall back into the mattress. For a bit you thought he had taken your advice but alas he started turning so he could sit up in bed.

His hair was frizzled and stood a little upright. He had dark circles under his eyes and a sleepy look covering his face. He blinked a few times before moving to sit with his legs over the side of the bed. The blanked had fallen and you couldn’t help but look at his chest, the muscles well defined, quite a few scars, some bigger than the others and a tattoo covering the entirety of his upper chest. It looked just like the shadows that had started swirling around him again.

Curling through his hair and around his ear, likely whispering little things they noticed or deemed important enough.

Deciding the stop gaping at the male you moved your eyes back to the other side, the sunset nearly over by now. Even though only a matter of two to three minutes could have one by the sun had risen fast. Likely a Day Court thing. It shone brightly and you could feel it’s light gently ceres your skin.

Feeling a presence nearby you noticed that Azriel had started moving towards you, yawing in the process before settling down next to you in the sofa.

You sat in comfortable silence for a bit before he spoke. “The sunrise is likely the only thing I enjoy about this court.” You smiled gently at his words before looking over at him.

He was looking at the sunrise with a small smile on his face before he turned his attention to you. His eyes seemed to soften a little bit more when they met yours.

“How did you sleep? I heard you come in quite late and you were up early.” He noted with a small furrow of his brow. Although the gentle smile stayed on his face.

“I slept pretty decent actually. I had lost myself in a book in the library so I was back rather late, I am sorry if I woke you.” You replied back, spoken in soft voices.

He assured you that you had not awoken him, rather he himself were still awake.

“I noticed one of my shadows with you this morning, they don't usually do that. Have they done that before? Because I’ll tell them off if they make you uncomfortable, although I must say that it did not seem that way just now.”

You beamed slightly at his words. “I don’t mind at all, in fact they are rather nice.” You smiled a little brighter as some of them immediately darted towards you, some playing with your fingers other roaming around, a few even went into your hair.

Azriel looked slightly startled as they did this. “I think last night while I went to lay down was the first time. Whichever one it seemed to have wanted to come say goodnight to me.” You thought for a bit, admiring them before realisation hit you. “Wait, actually, I think they might have done that before. Back during Solstice a few of them curled around my arm when I passed you. I completely forgot about that.”

You looked over at him and he seemed to be deep in thought, his brow was really furrowed now and his smile was no longer. When he didn’t seem to snap out of it you placed your hand on his wrist.

He blinked in surprise before looking at you hand on him which had him frowning once more.

You removed your hand before clearing you throat. “Sorry, I would have taken your hand but you seem to always shy away when people do that. I shouldn’t have assumed that your wrist would be any different.”

He looked up at you expression unchanging. He opened his mouth to say something right as a knock sounded from the door. You looked over at it before deciding to go over and see who it was. You looked back over at him to see him still staring. You gave him a little smile, after apologizing again you stood up and made your way to the door.

You opened it just after another knock sounded and were surprised to see your own High Lord.

He looked slightly surprised by you before giving a smile. “Well good morning, it seems our dear Azriel is in good hands then.” He chuckled softly, mindful of those still sleeping.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong or what he had meant you felt a hand on your waist. While the other grasped the door besides your head.

“Can we help you Rhys?” Azriel sounded kind of agitated, a clear difference from simple moments ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Rhysand was here or because you touched his wrist.

“Not necessarily, I simply wanted to check in on you both. I had heard from Feyre that Elain and our dear Azzy here had switched rooms.” He said the last part while grinning at you.

Before either of you could say anything else Azriel decided that the High Lord and his brother had overstayed his welcome. “If you aren’t here for a decent reason could you let us be?”

He surprised you with that but the high fea before you seemed unbothered, maybe even pleased.

“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t want to bother you two. Remember that meeting we have at nine.” He barely finished speaking when Azriel pulled you back into him begore closing the door.

You both stood there for a moment until you decided to turn around. Only then did you notice how close he really was and how very bare his chest still was.

After a second of standing in a daze staring at his chest and tattoo you seemed to come back to reality when you moved backwards a step, which in turn caused your back to hit the door. You looked up and Azriel followed your step until his arm was pressed into the door above your head.

He leaned in slightly while you tilted your head upwards to try and look at him properly. If you didn’t know better you’d say he was blushing.

“I don’t mind you touching my wrist. Or my hand.” He paused while looking at you. He leaned in even more, noses nearly touching. “I never mind when it’s you.”

You both held eye contact between each other until his gaze flicked over your face as if searching for something. Eventually he pulled away and you smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t hear the loud drumming of your heart.

Later you found yourself once again in the library. Azriel left at eight, presumably for the meeting Rhysand was talking about. And given that you were once again alone in your room and that you could read the books you had with you you could read another time you decided to return to the library.

A good portion of the day had passed, before you knew it the empty plate upon which the dinner that one of the helpers had given you had been cleared and replaced with coffee.

You finished yet another book and decided to try and find a book you had been looking for for a while. While strolling through the aisles you couldn’t help but have the feeling that you were being watched.

You wondered if it was something alike the House or Byraxsis. Although you doubted that something as ‘terrifying’ could be found in the Day Court.

Not to lie you had always enjoyed the presence of Byraxsis, you would read to it after a long day. And sometimes, just sometimes they would ask a question or ask for a book you could read.

You missed them sometimes, although the same cannot be said about Cassian.

When you reached for a book you noticed that you were once again joined by a little shadow. You smiled at it before returning to looking for your book.

When you were about to enter another aisle the little shadow decided to pull you a different way. You ended up three aisles down from where you were going. The little shadow kept going before stopping before a specific bookcase. You looked around it for a bit, curious at what the littlz thing would want to show you and that’s when you saw just the book you were looking for.

When you went to thank the little one, you realized that it was nowhere to be found.

Shrugging it off you decided to focus on the matter at hand. To get the book that was placed about a meter and a half above you. You tried to reach it by standing on your tiptoes before someone reached out above you to take it of the shelve.

You immediately recognized the scars on the hands, the siphons and the little shadows that had once again decided to dance along your skin.

Lowering your hand you turned around to see Azriel leaning over you in the same way he had been that morning. Except this time he was smiling softly, it tugged on a heart string to see him smile like that. Gods what you wouldn’t do to see him smile like that more.

“A bit short aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a tease. You huffed but smiled and thanked him for the book. But just as you went to reach for it he held it out of your reach. The smile on his face widened at your playful glare. You reached for it again but this time he held it above his head. So you decided to step closer until you were practically chest to chest and place one hand on his chest and raise one to reach for the book.

He seemed surprised by your boldness and movement that his arm went slack and you managed to lower it and grab the book.

You smiled at the look on his face and patted his chest. You took a step back.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Wasn’t expecting it.” You said softly to respect the space.

He shrugged and smiled. “Maybe I wanted to read and saw a damsel in distress.” You laughed a little, denying being a damsel or in distress. He leaned in closer with is head and upper body and added. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You flushed at that and he laughed quietly, deciding that you were red enough he gestured for you to follow while he offered his arm. Which you took.

He led you to where you had sat yesterday and took a book of his own. He sat down besides you on the couch and started reading.

You finished your book rather fast and decided to read another and another. As did he, only he didn’t read nearly half of what you read.

Once it started getting late, and both of you began to get hungry he announced that you should be retire to the bedroom. You obliged, still you toom the books with you to the front desk so they could be placed where they needed to be. He smiled at you once that happened and once again offered his arm.

Back in the room, you both decided to wear something more comfortable. Azriel had once again ditched his shirt and opted for loose black sweatpants instead of his leathers.

The food was delivered to the door and you both ate in silence until he spoke up.

“Why did you sleep on the couch tonight?" You raised your head from your food and blinked at him. “I mean there was enough space for us both and as much as it is pretty that couch does not look comfortable.”

You smiled perhaps a bit sheepish and said: “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you had already moved so for to the right and still there was little space. I definitely would have touched you, which I thought you were uncomfortable with. And I would have had to move your wing and even now that is a boundary I will not cross. Especially not in your sleep.”

He smiled softly at you and his eyes softened. “I wouldn’t mind you sleeping in the bed with me. Not at all.”

And so that’s how you ended up next to the shadowsinger. It was well past midnight and it appears that Azriel had found sleep, the same could not be said for you.

The blanket had little weight and was very thin. But getting out of the bed would mean waking Azriel zo you bared with it.

After a count you turned your head to Azriel to find him already looking at you. Startled at first your eyes widened before turning into a smile to match his own. You turned on your side to look at him better and did he look good.

His sleepy smile paired with that dammed look in his eyes.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you asked.

A beat passed, then he sighed and said: “Because you are simply stunning.”

A blush crept up your face. “So are you, dammed handsome truly.”

You thought that he would laugh or say something back but instead his face faltered. It hurt to watch that, you frowned and wondered why that happened. Did he not believe you? Does he think you’re lying?

No, that’s not possible, I mean look at him. But his smile went completely and you felt such dread seeing it ago, and that’s when it happened.

Snap

…

“You…. You’re..” You weren’t sure what to say. It’s like your entire world got flipped upside down.

“Wait, you can feel it?” He said, leaning on his elbow. Your mouth opened and closed before you nodded with disbelief. He knew?

His smile started returning before he started reaching for me. Although he stopped abruptly, he looked at his hands and before I knew is I had taken them in mine and placed a kiss on the knuckles, the back of them and both palms.

His eyes glossed and his voice sounded so little as he asked: “You don’t mind? You don’t mind that it is me that is your….” His voice trailed off at the end.

“I do not, truly I am utterly delighted.” You took the side of his face in your hand while guiding him to lay back down. “I am more than happy to be your mate, Azriel.”

His eyes scanned mine for a lie, a single hesitation and when he found none he said upright and brought both wings to the correct sides. He gestured for me to sit up so I did. He laid back down with now the wing beneath me.

I hesitated and he told me once again: “I don’t mind when it’s you.”

So begrudgingly you laid down on his arm atop his wing while the other draped over you, along with his arm and shadows. The added weight was welcome and so was the warmth against the chilly air.

“How long have you known?” You ask.

“Remember Solstice two years ago, when we were having one of our conversations again?” You nodded. “And how all of a sudden I had to make the worst excuse ever to leave?” You nodded again.

“Well, you had said that my shadows were adorable and you called them ‘little ones’ ande then it just… snapped. I panicked cuz I did not know what to do, I almost spilled it all right then and there but I felt like you deserved better… or at least for it to be natural. Honestly even before the bond I really liked you, you should ask Rhys and Cass. They have some stories of me trying to impress you and it going terrifically wrong.”

You laughed and stared in wonder, you mate is a dork. And you love him. So you told him just that.

“I would love to het to know you better, truly. But know that even before and now still, I love you. My mate is such a dork and I’d love to hear all the stories.”

His arms wrapped around you tighter and the shadows seemed to do the same. And so you both laid there in each other’s arms.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing #i did this around midnight don't judge me #good night now

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vettelsvee · 5 months ago

Text

DO YOU REALLY WANT US TO TRY? | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

retired sebastian vettel x wife!reader

word count: 7265

summary: having the day off from the shootings of the documentary they're shooting about their years in formula 1, so seb decides not only to take y/n on a date in new york, but also to try for another baby

warnings: smut: female masturbation, male masturbation, fingering, oral sex (female receiving, male receiving), p in v without protection (wrap it before tap it!). bad language, curse words, translated german. based on january 2023

a/n: (you can read this while listening to maroon by taylor swift bc oh my) this is one of the extra fics i'm gonna be posting of history series! first volume on the series, meeting, will be posted as soon as i finish writing the first chapter so you can enjoy the same day both the intro, the prologue and chapter 1 🔥 feedback and reposts are truly appreciated, and also comments! thank you for all the support lately, you don't know how much it means to me <3

The dawn light, painting the New York sky in pink and orange, began to filter through the windows partially covered by semi-transparent curtains.

You laid peacefully in bed, on your right side, immersed in a light sleep. Your hair sprawled across the pillow, and your breathing was calm, synchronized with the movement of your chest. A faint smile adorned your lips, possibly reflecting a pleasant dream involving you, your husband and your little ones.

Sebastian gradually woke up, his half-asleep eyes first meeting the serene face of you illuminated by the emerging sunlight.

"Good morning, my love," Vettel whispered, trying not to startle you.

You didn't react, still lost in your peaceful nocturnal fantasy. A tender expression crossed the German's face as he leaned gently to kiss your forehead, taking utmost care not to wake you.

Your day in New York held many plans, and all he wanted you was to be as rested as possible.

"Mmm," you murmured, slightly more aware now. "Seb..."

Sebastian's gaze focused on your lips, but he didn't want to overwhelm you. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheek to your jaw, chin, and even focusing on your neck, well aware that such gestures often led to a morning session of intimacy you had enjoyed many times before.

You mumbled sleepily but became a bit more conscious of your surroundings.

"That was nice, but could you let me sleep a bit more, please?" you asked.

Sebastian smiled, settling closer to you, resting his head on the pillow and letting it rest on his right hand, aligning with your level.

"I think it's already time to wake up, love," he said, gently caressing your cheek. "How about you let me wake you up properly?"

You, as if engaged in a playful banter, slowly opened your eyelids. You blinked leisurely, letting your light eyes adjust to the ambient light, a playful smile forming as you realized how close your husband was.

"What do you mean by waking me up properly?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued and emphasizing the last word.

Sebastian didn't reply. Instead, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, initiating a tender and longer kiss than initially intended. Afterward, he focused on every part of your tired face once again.

"Like that."

"Are we playing Disney princesses as if we were with the girls?" You teased, your cheeks turning slightly red. "Am I supposed to be Sleeping Beauty or what?"

Sebastian chuckled sincerely, admiring the innocence with which you, his wife, sometimes spoke due to the games you played mostly with your daughters throughout the day. Since becoming parents, you both knew your were reliving a second childhood, something you particularly loved as you had become the mother you always wanted to be, but you never got to have.

"Something like that, yes," Vettel replied. "Who could resist the incredible task of waking up a princess? Well," he corrected himself, "you’re not a princess anymore as I'm afraid to say you’re my queen."

"I haven't been awake for five minutes and you're already acting like your 2010 self! Yes, don't laugh, Seb! The one who didn't know what to do with his life and how to get rid of all the crap falling on him," you recalled. "And there was quite a lot, especially, and who flirted with every walking female being."

"But you loved him because, thanks to him, you ended up falling in love with me," Sebastian added with sarcasm. "Besides," he continued, "don't act like you've never put a foot wrong in your life. You weren't an angel a year later either."

Before you could retort, Sebastian moved aside the sheets covering him from the waist down to get out of bed. He put on his slippers and, with a mischievous smile, headed to the apartment's kitchen you had rented for your stay in the city.

"What are you doing, Sebastian Vettel?" demanded you to know, trying not to fall back asleep and figuring out what was going on in the man's head.

A playful smile appeared on Sebastian's face as he turned to you. You were watching him with considerable curiosity.

"It's a surprise, sweetheart," he commented, quickly returning to you, planting a kiss on your forehead and covering you a bit more with the sheets.

"You've got me intrigued," you said drowsily, yawning, "so don't take too long, or I'll fall back asleep."

Sebastian returned to the small space, leaving you confused and stretching in bed. Once in the kitchen, the former driver began gathering everything needed for a simple breakfast, given that his culinary skills were not the best but good enough to impress his wife. Soft sounds of utensils and plates clinking filled the air, along with the gradually brewing aroma of coffee, enough to fully awaken you. Nothing delighted you more than the scent of that brown beverage you loved, wafting through your nostrils.

You sat up slowly, leaning against the padded backrest. A few minutes later, you heard footsteps approaching. Sebastian appeared at your bedroom entrance carrying a tray filled with fresh fruits in an unevenly cut bowl, a buttered toast with peach jam, and a cup brimming with coffee, featuring a failed attempt at a heart. Additionally, there was a vase with some dried flowers that Sebastian had secretly bought the day before from a nearby florist.

"What's all this? Are we celebrating something?" you asked, completely impressed by the wonderful wake-up Seb had prepared for you. "Or is there something you want to tell me, and you don't know how?"

He carefully placed the tray on you lap, trying not to spill anything and cause a mess. Sebastian then sat beside you gently, positioning himself close enough to you but giving enough space for you to enjoy breakfast without feeling overwhelmed.

"I just wanted to make something special for the most special woman in my life," the blonde clarified.

"It's surreal that you've done this for me," you admitted. "Are you sure you're not going to ask me for a divorce or anything like that?" you added while taking a piece of bread with your hands and bringing it to your mouth.

"I thought the nonsense of wanting a divorce was a thing of the past," Sebastian replied. "Besides, this is the simplest thing in the world, love. Remember when I taught you to drive?" You nodded, eating slowly. He had given you quite a hard time, although in the end he became your best driving instructor. "Or when you got so obsessed with Moulin Rouge that I threw you a themed birthday party where you were Satine, I was Christian, and we spent the whole night singing after I spent days learning every single song Ewan McGregor sang in the movie?"

"You looked handsome as fuck in that outfit, and everyone had a great time," you said, recalling that day as if it were yesterday. "Although we didn't enjoy it as much when Mick and that girl he dated, Lara, who clearly intended to sleep together, caught us in bed together ."

The German rolled his eyes, trying to forget the scene where he had you sitting on his face, your face down focused on his penis giving him a blowjob, and the ex-couple, wearing only their underwear, entering the same room where you were.

He didn't want to remember that date even if they paid him all the money in the world, or if they even told him that climate change would end.

"Well," you continued, realizing that Sebastian didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Then you tell me what's all this for."

"Since we had the day off today, I wanted to do something special with you," Sebastian explained. "I know we have to get up at five tomorrow because we need to be at the studio around seven, so I didn't plan anything big," he apologized. "Sorry."

"Spill it, don't leave me in suspense," you said, now holding the fruit bowl in one hand and the fork in the other.

"What if we go to Central Park and spend the day there, sweetheart?"

You lifted your gaze from the coffee, surprised by the suggestion. Then, you smiled at her husband.

"Central Park is always a good plan, especially when it's with you,” you replied cheerfully. “I like that it's something calm," you confessed, quite happy. "Mr. and Mrs. Vettel need, every now and then, a bit of calm in their lives."

Even though you hadn't finished eating everything Sebastian had prepared for you, you made a move to get up and get dressed. However, he asked you nicely to sit back down and wait for a moment.

"I have something for you," he declared affectionately, thinking about how you would react to the two surprises he had prepared, especially the first one.

Quickly, with your watchful eyes on him, he approached the built-in wardrobe in one corner of the room and took out a small bag containing an envelope and a small box wrapped in Christmas-themed wrapping paper.

"I know it's not the right time for me to give you this," Sebastian explained, pointing to the box, "but I'm sure you'll love what's inside. I couldn't give it to you with the girls around," he revealed, "or they would want to copy their mother, especially Emily. I still think they are too young for that."

You were puzzled by what the German had just said. As he offered you the box, you took it carefully in your hands. Slowly, you unwrapped it, avoiding tearing the wrapping hastily and removing the pieces of tape one by one, even though excitement was eating you.

Once you removed the wrapping, you saw what appeared to be the back of a toy box. When you turned it around you realized you were right and started screaming and jumping on the bed. Then, you ran towards Seb and gave him a tight hug, one of the ones she loved.

"Oh my God, sunshine. I can't believe it!" you exclaimed, completely thrilled. "I know I'm an adult, a mother with responsibilities," you specified, counting with your fingers, "but you've fulfilled my childhood dream!"

Sebastian laughed at your reaction, something that he was already expecting from you. As you became closer in 2008, you talked about childhood toys and that kind of stuff people usually talk about when they meet. You revealed that you had always wanted a Tamagotchi but, due to your family's economic situation, they couldn't buy you one. Your surprise came when Emily, your eldest daughter, asked for one last Christmas. Since then, he often caught you playing with it whenever your eldest ignored it or got bored of it.

He loved seeing you so excited about something as simple as a gadget with a virtual pet or whatever was inside.

"I thought you'd like to have one for yourself," Seb raised an eyebrow. "Considering how often you take it from your eldest daughter..."

You avoided his comment. Instead, you eagerly tore open the box and, once the device was out, you stopped to examine it in detail, trying not to let it slip from your trembling hands. You felt a rush of emotions running through your body, transporting you back to your childhood, remembering every detail you had experienced with your family and the ones that you didn't have around anymore.

But now you had a new family, your own family, and that was what you clung to in moments when you wondered why almost all your loved ones had somehow left you behind.

"And what's the other thing?"

You discreetly pointed, ignoring your feelings as you stepped away from your husband, to the envelope he held in his hands. You tried to reach it, but it was in vain: Sebastian, even just slightly, was taller than you.

"Oh, this?" he said. "It's nothing. Just tickets to go to the theater to see the Hamilton musical."

You opened your mouth completely in shock.

"And you say it so calm?!" you exclaimed, moving towards your husband again. "You're the most utterly unexpressive person I've ever met in my life, Vettel."

"Go get dressed, come on," he avoided that comment, heading towards the front door, grabbing his jacket, and after putting it on, he took the keys to the residence. "I'm going grocery shopping for the wonderful picnic we're going to have today."

"But what picnic are we going to have if it's winter!" you shouted, somewhat puzzled. "Sebastian Vettel, I swear to God that if I catch a cold and, on top of that, when we come back we give it to the girls, I won't be the one staying home to take care of them!"

He left the apartment laughing, closing the door behind him, leaving you to come up with wild theories about what you were going to do. It seemed you knew him very little.

Did you not know that, for him, a picnic always ended up meaning taking you to eat somewhere quiet in the city?

[...]

After almost two weeks of the History recordings, where you had only worn the most formal clothes possible, from almost gala dresses to uncomfortable pencil skirts that remind you of your days working for Red Bull as a intern and, then, as a race engineer, you could finally wear something you could describe as comfortable.

You had always been used to dressing casually except for the years you worked at Red Bull, where you often felt like you were on a fashion runway. So, for a stroll in the most famous park in New York and even for a night at the theater, you decided to wear slightly tight jeans that easily hugged your curves, hidden under a well-worn oversized sweater from your pregnancies. You left your hair, a bit longer than she was used to in recent years, loose, with its natural waves. You also wore tiny pearl-shaped earrings, your father's watch on your left wrist and white Converse shoes.

For Sebastian, an overshirt and a t-shirt hidden under his jacket, along with pants and Adidas sneakers, were more than enough. He wore that almost always, and no matter how many times you told him that it seemed like that outfit had become his uniform, he refused to change it.

And thank goodness he doesn't wear the famous headband, you criticized in your mind. How embarrassing.

It had been almost three hours since you left your rented apartment and had done quite a few things, although it was nothing extraordinary. First, you walked hand in hand through the park, avoiding athletes and talking about trivial matters. Then, you started feeding ducks in a small pond with a loaf of bread Sebastian had specifically bought for that. You also decided to approach a group of elderly people playing chess to chat with them for a while. Older people were your weakness, and you felt sorry for most of them. You even ended up playing a few games while listening to them talk cheerfully about their lives, sharing some trivial details about yours at the same time.

When you set out for the famous picnic, they decided to call Amelie, your middle sister, to check on your kids. The moment the girl answered the call, the couple could momentarily see the desperation she was feeling:

"I swear tonight has been a disaster," the girl commented in German. "Matilda, at eleven at night, wanted to get into the pool with her Little Mermaid costume to swim and go to the magical kingdom of I don't know what," she expressed angrily, gesturing with her free hand. "Then, Emily wanted to play with your simulator, Seb, and ended up crying because I told her she needed your permission, but you were working and you couldn't give it to her," the mentioned one nodded, gesturing to his sister to continue. "And to top it off, George and Mick ended up falling asleep, leaving me in charge of two little devils."

“And what about aunt Johanna?,” you asked abruptly, leaning closer to the phone. Sebastian could sense your getting nervous, so he quickly took your hand and started caressing it with his thumb.

Amelie sighed, and you even heard a few muttered curses.

"Don't talk to me about your them, Y/N," the girl almost shouted. "They promised me they'd be here around eight, but uncle Hans ended up calling me a few hours later, drunk as a skunk, to tell me they went to a fancy dinner with some of their workmates and couldn't make it home."

"So, you've become the boss of everything, huh?" you commented with humor.

"Sadly."

The family conversation continued. As the minutes passed and you got closer to the place Sebastian had chosen for your meal that day, his parents joined them, having decided to take care of the youngest of the family, your baby boy Carl, while you were out. Michael and Corinna also decided to go to your residence, and with the youngest in her arms, she began explaining to you that he had learned to say a few new words.

"Auto," the baby joyfully exclaimed, while pointing from Schumacher's arms to a photo of Sebastian in his second team that was above the fireplace. "Auto, daddy. Daddy, das Auto ist blau."

That made Sebastian so happy that tears welled up in his eyes, although it didn't last long because you had already reached the door of the restaurant. Soft lights, despite it being midday, illuminated the path to the entrance, which stood out with its wide windows, resembling a glass display, showcasing diners already enjoying their meals.

After hanging up the call with your relatives, you entered and let yourselves be enveloped by the atmosphere. The interior was elegantly decorated, but not overly extravagant. There were plenty of potted plants of all kinds decorating every corner, and you weren't sure if it was that or not, but a very faint scent, like vanilla, seemed to emanate from some unknown place.

A waiter approached you both while you were chatting animatedly about the place.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Vettel," the young man interrupted, who should be in his twenties and apparently seemed to be a fan of your husband by his way to behave and, apparently, nervousness. "If you follow me I'll show you the table we've prepared so you can enjoy your meal without interruptions."

Sebastian and you thanked him with a slight nod and proceeded to follow him. You crossed the different sections of the establishment, trying not to attract the attention of any customers, until you reached a more secluded corner from where Central Park could be seen in the distance.

Once seated, the guy who was serving you offered you menus and, immediately, an older woman placed a few appetizers on the table, saying they were on the house.

At that moment, while deciding what to order, you began to dwell on the conversation you had with your youngest sister before starting to record the documentary for the first time. You didn't know how to broach to Seb the subject of getting pregnant again. You were nervous about his possible reaction, yes, but at the same time, you had a good feeling. Your husband was currently dissecting the steak you had ordered, while you dipped a nacho into some guacamole. Trying not to delay it further, you finally spoke while settling into your chair:

"Seb?" you asked to get his attention. "The other day, Lou told me something a bit... strange," you innocently expressed.

Vettel stopped cutting the piece of meat, dropped the utensils onto the plate, and looked at you a bit uneasy, not knowing what you might be referring to.

"What do you mean something a bit strange?" he said, frowning and with a concerned tone. "What did she tell you?"

"She said we could go for one more bun," you emphasized the phrase with a bit of irony. "She also said we should have a second honeymoon or something like that," you crossed her arms, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "You know how my sister is."

And, indeed, Sebastian knew. He already had an idea of where this conversation was going, and if you meant it in a positive way, he was totally on board.

"So... one more bun, huh?" he teased, pretending not to know where the conversation was heading.

"I think Lou was talking about having another baby, love," you bluntly stated.

Sebastian nodded with excitement, knowing that your expression was currently a masterpiece. If you thought he wouldn't catch on to what you were referring to, you were absolutely mistaken. Every time your sister had told him that she'd like to have another nephew, she had done it using that phrase which, though totally absurd, had become an internal joke between them both. Now, you seemed to be a part of it as well.

"I know," Seb finally admitted, not wanting to tease you anymore as you seemed a bit deflated. "And... what do you think?"

You had a thoughtful expression, unsure of what to say. On one hand, you indeed wanted to be a mother for the fourth time, but there were so many things swirling in your head, things that would soon become a reality...

"What are you thinking, Y/N? Wouldn't it excite you us being parents again?"

Sebastian moved his chair closer to the table and took both of your hands while keeping a close eye on you. He could feel you trembling a bit, and it wasn't particularly because of the cold.

"No, it's not that, it's just that... Carl is still a baby... You've just retired, and the only thing you should focus on now is on resting and making up for lost time. I'm starting all this stuff of F1 Academy soon and, on top of that, there's the mess of the documentary we've gotten into," you listed. "I don't feel capable of being a mother again, Seb," she confessed. "It will be overwhelming for us."

The German took your chin and made you look at him. Your gazes met, and your found somehow serenity amidst all the concerns that were overwhelming you at the moment.

"Listen, Y/N," the former driver expressed clearly and calmly. "I'll always be by your side, no matter where I am or what I do, okay?" You nodded, trying to hold back tears. "If you don't think now is the best time to have a baby, I'll wait, and if that time never comes, I'll be more than happy to see our little ones grow up next to you."

"Are you serious?"

"Very serious, Y/N," Seb affirmed once again. "I've always wanted to have a big family with you. You know that for me, the more, the merrier."

You leaned back a bit, surprised by your husband's words. You started reflecting on everything he had said since then, especially the if you don't think now is the best time to have a baby, I'll wait.

Did that mean he might want a fourth child... right?

"Wait, wait, wait," you played with your hands. "What did you say before?"

"I want to have all the babies in the world with you, and I'll wait as long as you need," Sebastian explained again.

Your eyes began to fill with tears of joy, causing confusion for your husband, who began to genuinely worry about you. He hadn't seen you like this for quite some time, and those were not particularly good times.

"Do you really want another baby?" you asked, now crying after you tried holding back tears. "Do you really want us to try?"

"How could I not want it, silly girl?" he rushed to hug you, already knowing what was going through your mind. "I'm willing to do anything you say except to sign divorce papers. So, if you want another mini version of us running around, with the mini versions of us that are no longer so mini running alongside, let's do it."

Your excitement couldn't fit into your body at the moment.

"You're amazing, did you know that?" you expressed, holding onto your husband even tighter.

"Of course," the German laughed, causing you to laugh as well. "I'm just doing what all men should do: be, or at least try to be, everything their girls deserve."

And you knew he was right.

"So...?"

You were nervous about the final answer, although after seeing Sebastian's eyes light up and narrow, revealing the dimples on his cheeks, he didn't need to give you a response: you already knew, and knew your husband too well to understand what was going through his mind at that moment.

"After the musical and dinner I'm going to make you the most beautiful baby in the world. Four kids for us, who have four Formula 1 world championships, is that ok with you?"

[...]

The return trip had created a kind of barrier between you.

You knew what you were going to do, you had talked about it and, especially, it obviously wasn't the first time you had done it. Nevertheless, doubts always plagued you both when it came to conceiving a baby because, after the miscarriage you had in 2016, fear was always present.

Both the musical, from which you had left crying, and the dinner, despite having been caught by paparazzi and fans, to whom you did not deny anything, were great even Britta wasn't with you to help you. The night was young, and for you it had just begun no matter how much you tried to fool yourselves by promising each other that you would go to sleep soon.

As soon as you arrived at the apartment, you shared kisses that were more intimate than normal, and even some friction over your clothes. You were starting to get very horny, but had to calm down even you became more excited at the same time when Seb told you that, after the shower he was going to take, he would give you a lot of love.

Carl was barely two years old, and although Seb bragged about his three girls every time he had the opportunity to, you knew that what your husband wanted most was to have another small version of him running around.

You took off your clothes quickly, not bothering to put them on properly or look at where they ended up being thrown off. You laid down on the bed, wearing only the black lace panties, a courtesy gift from your sister and which had ended up becoming Sebastian's favorites, and you began to lower your left hand very slowly towards your privacy. You took some time for yourself despite how aroused you were by your touch, focusing on you nipples and, little by little, working your way down to your stomach, leaving a trail of caresses that made you very wet, as you could tell. You had had a lot of problems with your body in the past but, now, you felt like a fucking Greek goddess, and you didn't need Seb's compliments to believe it.

Once you reached your pussy, you tried to spend a brief moment exploring it However, you hunger was getting the better of you, and your excitement even more, so you quickly began to give small massages with the slowest speed you could to your clit, which made you let out a slight gasp. You continued to focus on yourself to the point that you had forgotten about Seb, who had already taken his shower and, completely naked from the bathroom door, was admiring the show that you were giving to him.

At the same time that you were increasing the pressure you were exerting on your G-spot, you began massaging your right breast with your non-dominant hand, the right one, focusing first on the areola and gradually moving towards your nipple, limiting yourself to rubbing it with the index finger. The movement of both of your hands, completely in rhythm, made Seb's penis become completely erect and ready to do anything to you.

The German had been the one who had taught you everything about masturbation, no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise.

The man walked towards where you were while massaging his penis. As soon as he arrived and had you in front of him, he climbed onto the bed and lay down next to you, still absorbed in your own pleasure. As soon as he had the chance, Seb took advantage to kiss you fiercely, which was eagerly responded by you. You had already noticed that your husband had joined the party, although not yet actively. As if Vettel had read your thoughts, he began to caress your stomach and, without warning, he inserted his hand into your underwear, wasting no time and getting to work with the bundle of nerves between your legs.

"Fuck, Seb..." you whimpered with pleasure. "You could have warned earlier."

"If I had warned you you wouldn't be moaning three times louder right now than when your hand was in my place," Seb said, moving his finger from your clit to your inside, surprising you. "Remember that no one will ever give you more pleasure than me, Y/N Vettel."

Sebastian wanted to continue in that position. However, he knew they had to finish quickly. In just a few hours you had to be up and getting ready to continue filming the documentary, and it didn't seem particularly right to fuck you all night long even though that was his only desire.

Quickly, the German quickly pulled out of you, what made you let out a cry of frustration at the loss of contact. Instead, Sebastian got off the bed, knelt in front of you and took your thighs, squeezing hard to lower you to the edge of the surface and leave your pussy perfectly aligned with his mouth. You knew perfectly well that, in those moments, the blonde was the one who had control of you, no matter how much you wanted to dominate him. But you were not going to object to it: you loved Seb being in control.

Sex for you, who had been affectionately and sarcastically nicknamed the paddock royalty back in the day, was never boring but actually quite the opposite: it was a box full of surprises in which, in a matter of seconds, Seb could go from being rough and dominant, to be the exact representation of the perfect guy in teenage romantic movies.

The man took time to admire you. You only had your panties left over to be completely naked before him. Quickly, he slowly got rid of them, even though you were putting up some resistance. Then, he opened your legs and held them tightly by your thighs, on which he began to leave kisses, caresses and even the occasional slight bite, alternating between them tortuously.

"Sebastian Vettel, I'm not here to play games," you told him reluctantly, anxious for him to take the next step once and for all. "Either you fuck right now or I'll rub myself against the pillow until I come and the pillowcase ends up soaked."

He stood up, stopping touching your body. It caused, once again, great frustration for you.

"Do you think a bag filled with feathers is going to please you more than me?," Vettel asked curiously, playing with you.

"Seeing that you're acting like a dick, yes," you replied, sitting up and resting on the bed with your forearms.

"Are you sure what you're saying, meine Königin?"

You felt more horny after having heard that nickname. Not even a few milliseconds passed when you had already pushed him to lie down again. Immediately afterwards, with his arms tightly holding your lower extremities, the German was already kneeling again and running his tongue throughout your intimacy without any kind of mercy.

“Fuck, Seb!,” you squealed in surprise, prompting the German to lick faster. "My God..."

Seb was going so fast that your body was constantly rising and falling, your breasts bouncing hard almost in unison with Sebastian's licks. To change the rules of the game, and surprise you once again, he opened your folds widely with one hand and, with the other one, started massaging that button that caused you so much pleasure. Your legs had begun to close due to you being close to the orgasm, and the German could do nothing about it except try to delay the arrival of it. He had seen first-hand that, the longer you took to reach your release, the better it was. For this reason, he decided to slow down the pace of the movements, now replacing them with slower rubbing of your clit fusing it with the penetration of his middle finger.

The screams were getting louder, and Seb noticed how your walls contracted on his finger with increasing frequency and violence. He felt the orgasm close to you, and that was the impulse to add one more finger inside you to the equation, accompanied by the entire surface of his tongue on your nerves. While the two fingers were entering and leaving you, he devoured your pussy with a little bit of difficulty due to the lack of access, but with an incredible hunger. He was excited, and he noticed how the precum began to come out of the tip of his penis. This served no purpose other than to give him more motivation to eat you out as if he hadn't done so in a long time.

He needed to fuck you as soon as possible, but first he needed to please you. You always came first for him in sex, and it had become a ritual that emerged unexpectedly years ago, all thanks to Rosberg.

"I'm about to cum, sunshine," you shouted, hunching your back aggressively and lifting your head as high as you could while you kept pulling hard on your husband's hair. "Let me do something, please... I get on top of you and give you a blowjob while you keep going," you begged. “I’m serious, Seb, don't ignore me. Fuck...!”

Sebastian didn't replied as he was completely absorbed in giving you a good orgasm, because saying the best would be impossible. That position had been earned by those when celebrating your victory in the 2013 World Driver's Championship despite everything that it entailed later.

A few light bites on your clit and the increase in the thrusts, focusing on that point inside you that gave you so much pleasure, were the key to the arrival of your climax as you were holding onto the bed sheets tightly while he writhed wildly.

Seb took some time to take all of your cum and let you calm down because there was still the best part of sex left.

"That was... lovely. Simply lovely."

Vettel sat up, gladly took the remains of your cum and sat down next to you, leaving a chaste kiss on you forehead and, later, on you lips, making you taste yourself.

"I'm the best at my job, what can I say? The best for my girl," he said modestly.

"So..." you commented before the German went on to the next thing and ignoring his words. "Are you going to let me make you feel good or not?"

"No."

A mischievous smile began to form on the man's face. Although he was quite enjoying making you nervous, the truth is that he didn't want that day to focus on him.

If you were going to make a baby, all the attention had to go to you: for that you were the one who would carry it, with everything that entailed, for nine months... more or less.

"Not even a simple blowjob?," you tried to convince him. "Not even a little suck? Come on, Seb."

"Don't insist anymore, really."

"I hope at least that you let your besties do it for me," you approached your husband, taking you breasts and squeezing them while impatiently bringing them closer to his face.

Sebastian laughed, again refusing your insistence.

"Y/N," Vettel began to explain, "I want you to lie down," he gave you a short kiss, "and let me do everything," he took you by your waist and began to lay you down on the bed again. "Let me do all the work, love," he finished saying, standing upon top of you and beginning to rub his member against your intimacy. "Let me remind you that we're gonna make a baby, love, and you already know that in the Vettel's baby factory, children are made with love. Much affection and love."

You hated when your husband became dominant when they had sex and as quickly as possible ended up acting as if he were a prince straight out of Disney movies.

"Yes, whatever you say," you reprimanded. "It's not fair, Seb. I want to make you feel good too."

"It's not fair either that you suffer during pregnancy and I just stand by and watch," that's when you had to agree with him. "You...," he corrected herself, "you all women do everything. We only take part in the fun part."

Again, without letting you say anything else, he began to spread kisses along your neck, sucking on the spots he knew you liked the most. At the same time, he began to rub himself impatiently on the your stomach, masturbating himself so that his erection would not go down even though it was impossible at that point.

"I love when you do that..." you moaned when you noticed how the German's teeth dug lightly into you skin, "although I would like more to have you inside me."

"Patience, Y/N."

Sebastian continued kissing you through your entire neck, and all you could do was making increasingly aggressive gestures as you felt your pleasure increasing. His penis was becoming more and more erect and, as he could tell by touching your inner lips, you were very, very wet again.

"Please, Seb, don't stop," you moaned in desperation when you stopped feeling the German's lips. "I want you to do something else now, please."

"What do you want me to do?"

A mischievous smile appeared on the blonde's face at the possibilities that were going through his mind right now about what he could do with you. He looked at the time on his digital watch, and when he saw that it was almost twenty to one in the morning, something in him changed.

"Do you want to be in control now, Königin?," he commented with a hoarse and serious voice. "Is that what you want?"

“If you know that’s what I want, I don't know why you're asking me then.”

"Well," replied Sebastian, who had already reached the height of excitement, "let's do it my way because you haven't given me a clear answer..."

Before you could say anything else, he gave you another kiss, although this time he showed much more desperation than anyone you had shared earlier that same night.

"Are you going to leave me like that or what?," you said, seeing that your husband was not up to the task of what he had promised you and, therefore, he stepped away from you. "Switch positions with me right now and lie on the fucking bed, Sebastian."

He did as requested, completely surprised by the words you had let out of your mouth even though it was not the first time he had seen you behave that way with him during your intimate moments.

You had many facets, but the one where you had control during sex was secretly his second favorite, followed right after the one of you being the world's best mother.

Once you husband was finally lying down, you desperately grabbed his member and began to move it up and down at the same time as you clumsily pleasured yourself. Within a few seconds you already had it in your mouth, constantly putting it in and out of your lips and masturbating what you couldn't fit due to its length.

"Are you going to let me fuck you now or not?," Sebastian verbalized, trying not to sound desperate.

"You'll fuck me when I decide it, Vettel," you said. "So now you better shut up for a while. Let me continue doing my job or I'm afraid I'll have to stop too."

"Princess..." Seb complained.

You couldn't take it anymore no matter how much you tried to make excuses for yourself and restrain your husband. You hated it when Sebastian begged you: you were tough, and you coped differently depending on the day. Suddenly, and to the German's surprise, you straddled him and aligned you entrance with his member, slowly letting yourself fall just to torture him. Seb responded with loud gasps accompanied by several expletives towards you, which served to excite you even more.

Finally, you lowered yourself completely, letting out a scream as soon as you felt the German's cock completely inside you. At first, you put your hands on Seb's chest, although you quickly moved them to the edge of the headboard when you saw that he wanted to have full access to your breasts, which he began to caress more than with desire, with affection, focusing on the nipples especially, while massaging them together.

You increased the promising rhythm of your hips when you saw Seb getting close to orgasm. Him, to help you, took you by your waist, helping you in that swing that your hips were so accustomed to doing.

"Honey, I'm close," said Sebastian, who was having a hard time to even speak.

This only made you squeeze your insides and increase more, if possible, your speed, even causing you little damage. The German's heartbreaking screams were filling your ears and, as soon as you began to touch yourself to try to reach the orgasm at the same time as Sebastian's, you joined his gasps.

"God, Y/N, there. Yes!"

A few more thrusts were enough for Sebastian to cum inside you, who continued riding him with impetus. Just a minute later, you had also reached the long-awaited second orgasm of the day, without a doubt much better than the first one.

With your legs shaking, carefully got off your husband, who helped you even though he couldn't even handle his own body. You laid down next to him, tangling your legs next to his. Sebastian, as soon as he had you next to him, took you in his arms and began to caress you and kiss you delicately all over your face.

Sleep began to take its toll on your bodies, and as soon as you began to get closer to each other, yawns replaced moans. Despite being aware that you had to get up in less than four hours, you wouldn't change anything that had happened between you moments before.

"I never get tired of kissing you," you commented, sliding your fingers through Sebastian's hair and snuggling with him, "or hugging you, or anything with you. I am very lucky to have you, and I would live again everything we have gone through in this and a thousand other lives just to be with you,” you acknowledged.

"I'm the lucky one, Y/N," he limited to say with honesty as he placed a kiss on your forehead for the umpteenth time that day, "and you'll never know how much."

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voidsuites · 2 months ago

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ARTRICK BOT RELEASE !!! (11/13/24) ⌢⠀ 🎾 .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．coach's orders. you’re art’s newest player— an up-and-coming name in the tennis world— but you’re stubborn and prone to working yourself to the bone in the name of the game. tashi would’ve loved you if she’d gotten her hands on you first, but you’re here with him, on his private backyard court, listening to his advice about your game and ultimately, your career. and damnit, art’s not going to take that for granted (even if it means pushing the delicate boundaries between an athlete and their coach). you’ve got to learn how to relax, and art’s not opposed to bending you over the net if that’ll fix things.

art donaldson ・゜゜・．lesson planning. it’s your first year having a hands-on role in building out and finalizing the curriculum for the middle school english department, but your focus has been equally split between what books your kids are going to read and the head of the english department himself, mr. donaldson. you’d been wary to accept such a high responsibility in the first place, but he’d insisted that you help him review the materials during prep week, and you'd never say no to art… even if it means awkwardly dancing around the fact that you’re both clearly into one another— oh, and that he’s finally taken off his wedding ring.

art and patrick ・゜゜・．night of the living frat! it really should be sacrilegious that sigma chi’s hosting a costume party just a week after halloween, but none of the brothers had been able to resist yet another party before finals overtook the rest of the semester. besides— who passes up a chance to dress up and drink? the music’s loud, the drinks are a-flowin’, and you’d never be able to tell that tonight isn’t halloween. no one’s the wiser… which only makes it harder for art and patrick to keep their hands to themselves and their heads out of the gutter when you eventually materialize. hopefully they can convince you to stay the night… if they can remember how to share first.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．mr. z. everyone loves mr. zweig— or “mr. z” as the students like to call him— and as the newest teacher amongst the faculty ranks, he’s quick to make nice and befriend everyone, including you. normally, you’d normally be skeptical of a washed-up pro tennis player coming to fill in the vacant gym teacher position, but you instead find yourself spending more time with patrick and enjoying yourself. it’s only a matter of time before you realize that lines are blurring and that whatever is going on between you both is way more than a friendship between fellow teachers coworkers.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．shopping spree. frequent trips to the high-end side of the city had never been your sort of thing thing, but now that you’re dating patrick they’ve become a weekly occurrence. you never leave empty-handed, and it’s always on his dime (at his insistence, of course, it’s all chump change to him anyway). who cares about the staring you two get when he totes you and your purchases of the day around the city?— he’s the one that gets to go about his business with you on his arm. everyone else is just lucky he just can’t help showing you off while he does.

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 5.2K AND 2 MIL+ CHATS! this is actually insanity i don't even know what to say or how to feel but thank you thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭 challengers brainrot has struck again (big surprise) these are all mostly aus— the art and pat teacher bots (lesson planning + mr. z) are based off of headcanons by dearest mars (the lovely @saintzweig) and the shopping spree pat bot is based off of the moodboard by my true love @diyasgarden !!! please please please please please give my lovely moots a follow bc without them (and everyone else) i would not have any ideas and you all would just be subjected to the whistling wind that blows in my head when nothing is going on in there (which happens often!) love love LOVE you guys for real i am so grateful for all of the support and giggles that we all have <33333333333

#c.ai creator #voidsuites bots #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson bot #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig bot #artrick #artrick x reader #artrick bot #c.ai #bot reqs #character ai #challengers #challengers x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers 2024 bots

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bunnywritesjunk · 1 year ago

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Hiiii love got sent here by a lil birdie that told me you can fulfill my ghost x hybrid bunny reader request here 🥹💀💗

Honestly wanna know how ghost would handle a bratty bunny that’s going through heat, but is too stubborn to go to him about, when seriously he’s alway down to tame that insatiable lil beast inside of heerrr 😋🤞🏽

Thank you so much for writing anything period, seriously. 🐰💗

Hello my fellow bunny. I had a lot of fun writing this. I'll probably do more hybrid reader stuff if people request it. I feel like Ghost would be a bit of a meanie in this situation, he's a brat tamer for sure. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Heat, helping through heat, unprotected sex, Hybrid!reader, edging, bratty reader.

A helping Hand

Your ears twitched as the sun poured in through the window. You sat up in your cot rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You sat up, your pajama shirt sticking to your bedding with pools of sweat. You padded off to your bathroom immediately hopping in the shower. Dull cramps in your lower stomach made you groan.

“Oh, not now. Please.” You pleaded with your biology.

You've been taking suppressants for your heat ever since you moved to this base. You gave your body a break and went off suppressants when you were on leave but this time something or someone had triggered your heat. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who it is. Being a weapons mechanic meant you didn't have to be around people very often. As long as a certain someone wasn't here you should be ok. You finished your cold shower and got dressed for the day. You tucked your ears under a cap and hid your tail in your pants. Although there were other hybrids on base, you didn't exactly want to display your rabbit features everywhere. You walked quickly to your station, avoiding any soldiers that might come your way.

You entered the weapons room and got to work. You had a few gun inspections to do. The real work wouldn't come until Ghost and his squadron came back from their mission. They were scheduled to arrive in two days, but you prayed it took them longer than that. Ghost would smell your heat, the embarrassment of having to ask him was too much. You weren't some needy bunny, you can handle your heat alone. After a few inspections were done you wrote up your paperwork for them the be cleaned and handed out for the next mission. Being engrossed in work took your mind off your impending heat.

First, you smelled him. The faint scent of Ghost. No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet. He slammed open the door unceremoniously placing all his weapons on the nearby table. Crap you kept your head down and hoped the smell of gunpowder covered your heat.

“Miss me, bunny?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. His wolf tail had a slight wag to it.

“You're back early, how was the mission?”

“Easy, mostly recon.” He sighed.

You gestured at the guns he put down. “I'll get those checked out for you.”

Ghost walked up to the counter you were behind and leaned on it.

“You had lunch yet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Come on then.” He headed toward the door.

“I'm not that hungry, you can go without me.” You didn't meet his eyes.

“Hmm.” He slowly walked behind the weapons counter blocking the only exit.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, why would there be anything wrong?” You shrugged.

He leaned down to your level, his eyes peeking at you through blonde eyelashes. You backed up as far as you could only able to get a few more inches away from him.

“You're not a very good liar, bunny.” He stood up to his full height and walked out, leaving you flustered and hot.

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

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Your heat intensified after Ghost paid his visit. It came over you in waves, almost causing you to double over at times. You considered asking him for help many times but ultimately decided against it. After work was done you practically ran to your room. You'd already asked your supervisor if you could have the next few days off, explaining the situation. You opened the door and shut it quickly behind you before shedding your clothes off. Your tail ached from being hidden all day. Your fuzzy ears stretched out, one stayed straight up and the other folded down. You flopped down onto your bed eager to use your toys.

You reached into the drawer on your bedside table, only to find nothing. You sat up and searched frantically. Where did you put them? This is bad. You looked under your bed, in your bathroom, in your dresser, nothing. The frustration started getting to you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked. Your feet thumped in anger every time you looked and they weren't there. As you checked your bathroom for the third time a knock sounded at your door. You grabbed your robe as you were only in underwear and slipped it on. You stomped to the door and wiped your tears before opening it.

A skull mask was staring down at you. Ghost held up a familiar velvet bag and leaned on your doorframe.

“Looking for something?”

You reached up to grab the bag but he kept it out of reach.

“Give it to me, Simon!” You whined.

He pushed himself off the door and into your room closing the door behind him. The blonde shaggy tail wagged lazily behind him, clearly amused by your distress.

“Now, why didn't my bunny come to me for help?” He asked.

Your ears folded down against your head in embarrassment. “I don't need your help.”

He walked past you and put your toys back in the bedside drawer. He started taking off his gloves.

“Ok, thank you for returning them, you can leave now.” You said.

He placed his gloves on the nightstand. He turned to you, his eyes darkened. He stalked toward you slowly almost as if he was ready to pounce. You looked away from him but held your ground. He towered over you and tilted his head.

“You always were a little brat huh?” His words annoyed you.

Before you can give him a rebuttal he took his mask off giving you a full view of his scarred face. He grabbed your jaw roughly contrasting the gentle kiss he gave you. His tongue caressed your mouth open. Your knees weakened as he pulled you flush against his body by your waist. Your heat urged your body to submit, but your mind wasn't there yet. You pulled away breathlessly. He still had a firm hold on the side of your face.

“I don't need your help, Simon.” You said once again quietly.

Simon's golden ear twitched in annoyance. “Right.”

He picked you up by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to your bed, embarrassment written on your face. He laid you down on the bed, pressing his hips into yours. You whimpered at the friction he created. He leaned down to nibble and suck your neck making you squirm. His hand made its way past your robe and into your panties with ease. Your wetness made it easy for him to dip his fingers into you. You gasped at the intrusion, practically melting into the mattress.

“Don't need my help, but you're so wet for me, Bunny.”

“I bet you were gonna think of me anyway.” Simon purred into your ear.

You moaned weakly as he worked his finger into you, his thumb circling your clit gently. His nose grazed your own, taking in the look of ecstasy on your face. Your orgasm came quickly and with force. Simon knew exactly what buttons to push to get you shivering under him. He unsheathed his fingers from you and popped them in his mouth, tasting your slick.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded.

“ I...Simon..." You whined.

“Tell me, Bunny.”

You covered your face muffling your words.

“I can't hear you, love. Speak up.”

“Please help me.....through my heat....”

“That's more like it." He purred.

He opened your robe and slid your panties off. In his haste, he ripped them a bit and you whined. You ignored your small protest and worked on your bra removing it expertly.

“I'll buy you some new ones.” He said quickly.

Ghost shed his clothing and flipped you over on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He tapped your hip.

You got on your knees arching your back deeply to present yourself to him. You wiggled your ass eager to have him inside you. He used a hand to steady your hips and slid his tip in between your folds. He slowly pushed himself into savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

“Ohh, you feel so good, Bunny.” He growled.

You were almost incoherent, the daze of your heat clouding your mind. You pushed your hips against his trying to get more friction. Simon bottomed out into you and started thrusting into you hard. He kept his pace slow at first, slamming his hips into yours. His tip grazed your cervix in a deliciously painful way. You whimpered every time it did. As his pace sped up, Simon's sighs turned into grunts and moans. He enjoyed watching your fluffy bunny tail bounce as he rammed into you.

“You take me so well.” The praise he gave you made your walls flutter.

He reached around your leg to rub your clit. Your moans got more desperate and guttural as your second orgasm approached. He slowed his movements ever so slightly to drag your pleasure out longer.

“I wanna cum Si, Please.” You whined.

“Only when I tell you, Bunny. You know the rules.” He grunted out.

“And since you didn't come to me first, you need a little bit of a punishment hmm?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

His thrust slowed, still keeping them firm. His hips slapped against your ass rhythmically. Your moans got higher pitched, his edging did a number on your heat-ridden body. Your legs trembled underneath you, the stimulation becoming more intense by the second. Luckily he didn't torture you for long.

“Cum for me.”

Simon's pace sped up and you came almost instantly. Your vision was fuzzy as you collapsed onto the bed. He bent down and caressed your head as you recovered from your orgasm. Simon rubbed your ear lovingly.

“I'm not done with you, Bunny.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #hybrid reader #bunny reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod mwii #ghost mwii #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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xenteaart · 8 months ago

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it's not about the roses

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but despite a brief mention of the studio it can fit any au, really) word count: 1,1k genre/warnings: er, fluff, a hint of angst if you squint but overall just tooth rotting sweetness. reader being kinda vulnerable author's note: inspired by my and @skzms 's channie brain worms, me crying over how boyfie he is in may's dms and her coming up with this little prompt. i'm manifesting a sweet healthy relationship for y'all, never settle for less <3

you were never the one for flowers, really.

it just didn’t seem anything meaningful or special, an occasional cute little bouquet on some first date you had ages ago, meeting someone completely new after mindlessly swiping them right on a dating app. plus, it’s always such a bother to take care for it. disassemble the thing, cut the stems, change the water, maybe cut off the leaves too.

at some point, you began to think of yourself as more of a practical person, taking gift giving to the point where it completely lost symbolism. always getting your friends and family either money or something they specifically asked for.

“at least, they’re actually gonna use it and get some utility out of it. ‘s good, right?” you thought to yourself, ticking a box on one of your friend’s wishlists for their birthday. it is good. no stress of choosing and endlessly pondering whether they’ll like it or not.

or is it avoiding the vulnerability of going down a more symbolic route if they don’t happen to respond to your gift the way you’d like them to after carefully planting hidden meanings and confessions all over a seemingly useless present? yeah, maybe, that’s the one, actually.

it was a regular saturday evening, no work, no plans, no big day or anything to celebrate. so, naturally, you were just spending the time at your place, resting after successfully having done all the house chores in one go.

purposelessly lying on the bed, you wondered what chris was up to. it wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you two to leave each other hanging during the day, keeping each other’s messages unread and waiting for some free time to give a thoughtful, proper reply.

but the little “1” next to your kakaotalk message was starting to feel unfriendly because... honestly? you just missed him. you wanted to know about his day, what he ate for lunch and whether work was okay today (knowing full well the man couldn’t care less about days of the week, coming over at the studio any time he needed or pleased).

distracting yourself with scrolling tiktok for a quick dopamine hit, you end up losing track of time a little. and the thing bringing you back to reality is chan’s short message, popping up on your notifications bar.

“can you come out for a sec? i’m at the door hehe~”

it takes you three times to read to finally understand what it actually means. he doesn’t have keys to your apartment yet, and you mostly hang out at his place anyways, so him coming all the way to the opposite side of the city makes your heart skip a beat.

you rush to the door and open it almost immediately, only to see channie, your channie, standing right in front of you with a nice bouquet of red roses wrapped up in kraft paper. the next thing you notice is chan’s wide smile, so sincere and endearing it makes you wanna cry on the spot.

you were never the one for flowers, really.

red roses always seemed like something either too vulgar or “easy”. something that becomes men’s first pick because they just never care enough to look for anything else and assume every girl loves it by default.

right now, however, it doesn’t feel like either of those.

the way chris is a bit nervous and really excited all at once; his hands gripping at the crunchy paper-wrapped base as he's waiting to give the flowers to you. the way his eyes sparkle and shine with warmth and genuine adoration for you. and you read past the roses, you learn so much more from it.

you learn how he’s been quiet because he was plotting a little surprise for you, trying not to be too obvious.

you see how he thought of you during the entire process, from an idea to carefully picking out the best flowers, making sure they’re fresh and pretty and will stay this way a while.

you can hear his timid little “thank you” to the florist as they exchange their bows and polite smiles.

you imagine the slightly awkward small talk with the taxi driver asking him about the occasion — the traffic and the parking area next to your building are awful, so you’re guessing he did take the taxi. and the drivers sure love to talk on the long drives, this one you had to learn the hard way.

gosh, chan looks so warm and… so soft, his lips making a familiar heartbreaking :] shape.

snapping out of your thoughts, you look into chris’s eyes and swallow down a salty lump in your throat.

“please don’t be alarmed, but i probably will cry a little,” you warn him before your voice gives out and take the roses, holding them close to your chest where the heart is bleeding.

“so pretty,” you stare down at the gentle velvety petals and sniff quietly.

chan looks worried for a moment but quickly pulls you into his embrace, stepping into the apartment and locking the door behind him.

“hey-y, i expected a smile, not your tears, baby. i didn’t upset you, did i?” to which you shake your head to reassure him.

“no, no, ‘course not! what do you mean? they’re so nice. i’m just… really happy? and i missed you. so much,” the last words come out like a weak mouse squeak as you close your eyes and let your emotions roll down your cheeks, staining your skin wet.

chan nods and takes your face into his palms, wiping away the tears and looking at you so lovingly you think you might actually break.

“i missed you too, baby. do you mind if i stay the night? i…- uh. i bought some face masks too, so we can just relax a little before bed and cuddle?”

you squeeze out a little “yeah” in response, headbutting his forehead and putting your arm around him, with another still holding the roses carefully.

“i love you,” you say slightly louder, making sure that he hears it.

maybe, gifts don’t have to be practical all the time. maybe, it’s okay to put sentimental value into simple, useless things sometimes. make them mean something.

“i love you too, baby,” chris hums still a little confused, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back and planting a chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose.

you reach for his plump soft lips and press yours against them. and even though your tastebuds can feel the salt, it’s the sweetest kiss you two have shared so far.

#skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #my fic #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan x female reader #chan x female reader #skz bang chan #stray kids bang chan #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #my writing #my work #skz fanfic

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restinslices · 1 month ago

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LKBS & Pegging

Do I have writers block? Yes. Will I ever have writers block when it comes to this topic? No. A lil headcanon post with a drabble at the end for each of them. OBVIOUSLY MDNI

Now this post isn't a "do they like pegging?" thing. It's a "scenarios I see happening / how they go about it" type of post

Now that that's out the way

Bi-Han has a hard time letting go of control. Even as a sub, he wants to have some sense of control. When it comes to pegging, I think his "sense of control" would be picking out the dildo you use

Which, honestly, seems fair. Some people aren't into that "surprise me" shit

A scenario I can see happening is him being stressed tf out... Which is almost everyday-

This particular day though, he needs that shit fucked out of him. And I don't see him beating around the bush. He's very straightforward and tells you he needs you to fuck him

He wants his brain turned into mush. So much so, he picks a dildo he's never asked you to use because of how large it is

Wanted to go no lube but you had to step in at that point

Idk, I just feel like he has a pain kink

Definitely wants to ride you because it lets him set the pace. Now could he have just masturbated? Yes. But he didn't want to. He still wants your presence there, but he wants to steer the ship this time

He looks hot while doing it, so why not let him?

Bi-Han swore he only needed one thing from you today; for you to lay there and look pretty while he rode you.

You certainly wouldn't deny him. Not when he looked so good fucking himself on a cock he hadn't dared to touch before today. His face scrunched with each inch he took, even grabbing your hand for support. By the time he started rocking his hips back and forth, he still hadn't taken it all.

His fingers remained intertwined with yours as he bounced on the inches he managed to take, heavy breathing and curses slipping past his pretty lips. "Fucking- oh fuck!" his hair brushed against his shoulders with every move he made, which only added to his beauty in your eyes, "just what I needed. Ah-! I wanna take it all.

Your hands moved down from fondling his breasts, to holding his hips firmly. If he wanted something, you'd have no problem with giving it to him. He always loved when you pushed him anyway.

You slammed him down on the rest of your length, causing a scream to leave him and for white ropes to shoot from his cock, staining the both of you. "Again... " he managed to get out while catching his breath, "again. Do it again"

What right did you have to deny him?

If I remember correctly, I think on my "If Kuai Liang Was A Sub" I said he'd be into free use. That and somnophilia

If I didn't, I'm saying it now

I cannot stress this enough, this is consensual and requires discussions beforehand. Do not just randomly try this

Now that that's out the way

Kuai Liang and you came to the agreement that you'd know whether or not he was okay with it for that night based on what he's wearing. If he's wearing boxers, then it's a no, however if he's wearing black boxers, then it's okay. If he's wearing nothing at all, then he better be woken up to you fucking him

That's usually reserved for when you haven't had time to spend with each other

This just so happened to be one of those nights

Now Kuai Liang isn't against rough sex, but I feel like he also enjoys slow and romantic sex

No rushing required. Just you inside him, kissing, hands all over each other, basking in each other's warmth

He's definitely down with "fuck me until I can't walk" type of sex, but sometimes he wants to put that off

Also he definitely loves eye contact while he's getting pegged. He wants you to see how good you make him feel

Praising from both you and him

It's weirdly cute sex

Bi-Han needs to hurry and kill Harumi so I can steal her man

I'M JOKING

With lips attached and hands roaming each other's bodies, relief was the best word to describe how you both felt. After a long day spent mostly away from each other, a night of passion was exactly what you both needed.

You cupped his face, tongue gliding along his own, slowly fucking in and out of him. "I was so glad to find you like this" you admit, lips leaving his so you could leave soft kisses along his jaw. "You're all I could think about today. I missed you"

"I missed you too". You knew he did, but hearing it out loud still made butterflies flutter inside you. Was that silly? Feeling butterflies when being told you were missed, as if you weren't fucking him? Maybe. Who cared? He lifted his hips up, meeting each of your thrusts, "you should see how you look from my view. You're stunning"

"I'm stunning?" You questioned, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You're the one taking me so well, and yet I'm stunning?

"Yeah"

You rolled your eyes. Corny as always, but you weren't against it. "You're an idiot"

"That's okay" he said, before pulling your face down, allowing him to pepper kisses all over your face despite your protests.

Yeah, he was a huge idiot.

Good thing it didn't bother you.

Now, it's basically tradition on this blog for me to make this man a secret whore

I have no plans on stopping anytime soon

On the bed, the floor, the counter, the shower, the couch, a chair-

BEND THAT ASS OVER! LET THAT BUSSY BREATHE

Okay, let me stop

I feel like it really is as simple as "I'm a grown ass man and I'm horny" with him

Sometimes ppl just wanna be slut out

Y'all, we get hardly any content of him. I'm grasping at straws, and you should allow this

I said he has a humiliation and degradation kink in my "If Tomas Was A Sub" post, and that can go well with pegging imo

He's getting his back blown out by the same person that's calling him all types of disrespectful names. It gets him going. Idk

Oop, bitch, I had an idea while typing

You and Tomas had a thing going on before all the betrayal shit happened. Now, that should've ended when you stuck by Bi-Han, and he by Kuai Liang but uhhhhh

As long as y'all aren't telling each other clan secrets, who is it hurting?

He's not sure when he'll see you again, so when he's getting pegged, it's filthy. Gotta make up for how much time you'll be apart

Sucking off the dildo, cum as lube, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, dirty talk, the list goes on and on

You both knew this was wrong, but why did something so wrong feel so good? If fucking Tomas was such a forbidden thing, then he shouldn't look so good while taking cock. Simple as that.

You had shoved your fingers in his mouth, muffling his moans and letting him taste his previous orgasm. An act that would disgust some, but not Tomas, who loved any and every act that made him feel as shameful as possible. You watched him through the mirror as he sucked on your fingers, one of his hands tweaking his nipple, before squeezing his breast. His hard cock swung with each hard thrust, precum leaking from his tip.

"It's a good thing I'm fucking you, and not the other way around. You don't even know how to use your cock" your fingers left his mouth, trailing spit down his body until your hand wrapped around him. "Such a nice cock given to someone who can't do shit with it"

Of course, Tomas knew you didn't mean it. He had fucked too many orgasms out of you to actually believe the harsh words you said. They still had an effect on him though, making his impending orgasm build and a whine come out. "Don't stop! Please!

"You think I plan on stopping anytime soon?" You scoffed, "not a chance. Need you to keep cumming until your balls are completely empty. And you're gonna enjoy every second of it, aren't you?" your tongue slid up his neck, the new feeling making his eyes roll back. "Tell me how much my little whore loves being fucked"

"I lo- hngh! Oh! Faster!". You landed a slap on his ass, his skin reddening immediately.

"Didn't I ask you to do something?

"Sorry! Shit!" he reached behind him, keeping your face near his neck, needing to feel you suck and bite at him. "I love being fucked by you!" he said in between whines, "feels so fucking good! Love being your little bitch and taking your dick when you want me to! I- ah! I'm so close! Please!".

There was no need to keep begging you.

You had no plans on stopping anyway.

Bi-Han and Tomas listening to Slut Me Out, meanwhile Kuai listening to Glue Song- I feel like I always write the least for him, BUT I SWEAR I LOVE HIM. I've been a Scorpion girly all my life, which is hard to believe based on my profile

Um, I think I'm finna delete all my requests cause when I tell y'all I got writers block for everything BUT smut, which says a lot about me as a person, but we move on. If y'all want me to do this again but with different characters and/or a different kink, feel free to send a lil request. But read my rules first cause if I see any piss, shit, or tentacle stuff, I'm shutting this bitch DOWN. And do not ask about Shao, Ermac or Quan Chi. I entertained y'all once and never again-

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 years ago

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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #könig smut #konig x reader #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends

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