#ok i seriously love this prompt
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sollucets · 1 year ago
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hear what your heart says / listen and follow all the way
khaotung thanawat in the never too late m/v for @khaotunq
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yujeong · 3 months ago
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For the micro story ask, how about number 7 (silent fury) for Pete? With your choice of other character/s <3
Ohhh, that's a good one, my friend, thank you so much ❤️ ----------------------- "Hey, P'Pete." "Hm?" "You used to do boxing, right?" "Ah... yes, why?" "What was your nickname?" "My... what?" "The name you'd been given as a fighter. Like how P'Porsche was called The Phoenix." "Well-" "Silent Fury." "Bro, you're not funny." "What? It suits him, doesn't it?" "It sounds stupid and you know it." "It does sound a little stupid, Vegas." "I only meant to emphasize your strengths, Pete." "You did a bad job." "Shut up, Macau." "Phi never answered the question. What was it?" "I... didn't have one." "You didn't? But why?" "No point for a fighter who's bad at his job." "Pete-" "No, I refuse to accept it. We're giving you one right now... Don't laugh, Phi, I'm being serious!" "Fine, Macau. Do whatever you want. But it can't be Silent Fury." "It suits you-" "Hia won't participate in the brainstorming. Only me and P'Pete." "Okay, that's it. No dinner for you." "Will I not get dinner either, Vegas?" "It depends, Pete. Are you going to behave?" "Ugh, never mind, I'm out of here. You started being gross again." "Food will be ready in an hour!" "You better have finished until then!" "No promises."
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skyloftian-nutcase · 9 months ago
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Embrace
Zelda woke to am embrace.
It was... lukewarm. Cold initially, and soaking wet, but with hot breath on her shoulder, with shivering muscles and a foggy mind and desperate strength holding her close.
What was...? The last thing she remembered was...
Blinking to get water out of her eyes (water? Why was there water?), Zelda turned her head to see dirty blonde hair plastered to wet skin and clothes, she recognized the light blue immediately, the sword on his back.
"Link...?" she breathed.
When--how did she get home? She'd swallowed the secret stone, and--
Link held her tightly, and Zelda's eyes stung with tears as she laughed.
I'm home.
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gallawitchxx · 1 year ago
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🔮💨 crystal ball weed bong mickey 🔮💨
part 10 for @galladrabbles "truce" by @gardenerian
master post (updates weekly!) | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9
✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺
He watches Gallagher’s eyes snap to the money. It’s today’s fee returned, plus a little extra; whatever else was in Mickey’s pocket now collateral for his cowardice. 
But he doesn’t take it. He doesn’t move at all.
“You fuckin’ deaf or somethin’?” Mickey shouts. Agitated. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re done here.”
Gallagher looks up. Stares straight into his goddamn soul. It’s terrifying—electrifying—and doesn’t hold a candle to the turmoil that rolls through him when that contact is suddenly gone, his gaze dropping to Mickey’s lips.
He fixates like he thinks they’ve already agreed to a truce.
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thatonefatgumsimp · 2 years ago
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OK so Ik this probably isn't the best idea, but-
I'm sketching my mermay prompts for both today and tomorrow so I can finish them tomorrow and no particular mushroom inspired names for my mermaid for tomorrow are really sticking so I decided to put a poll and let y'all choose for me...maybe lol 😅
If no one responds I'll probably just spin a random wheel anyways so eh-
Also I'm thinking of making her a sorceress because I already have one that's kinda like a crystal girl from mermay 2021 so I was thinking this one could be her mentor or her mom or something lol
ANYWAYS-
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llamaisllama777 · 4 months ago
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WOOF! That's a powerful line right there. And true!
Power doesn’t corrupt, it reveals. Give someone the ability to be who they’ve always wanted, and you’ll discover who they’ve always wanted to be.
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quarterlifekitty · 22 hours ago
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Weaknesses
Note: this is just a silly headcanon! Please don’t take it too seriously!
Gaz: goth/spiritual bitches. I said it. The amount of secondhand knowledge he has about tarot reading is getting weird. And don’t get him started on dark makeup and piercings.
Soap: cozy bitches. I think he’s gotten so much pornrot in his brain that his interests have gone from sexy outfits and circled back to full, comfortable coverage. Man loves you in the big t shirt, hoodie, sweats, blankets. One of his like top 5 favorite kinds of sex is the early morning quickie, so he’s like pavlov’d himself into getting hard for sleep clothes.
Simon: Girls that leave trails. He likes when you leave a lot of evidence of your presence in his life. Text messages, notes, jewelry and clothes you forget in his car and in his flat. He likes that it’s like there’s a constant tether, like the line separating your lives keeps getting blurry with all the crossover.
Price: Girls that cook. Like you don’t have to even be remotely good at it, if you made it for him, he’s not leaving a speck behind. You could feed this man a plain, boiled chicken breast and he’d still be so so happy. Something something joke about British cuisine.
König: clingy girls. He’s got that anxiety, he won’t always initiate contact, so he melts around anyone who touches him willingly and without prompting (bar is in the ground for him ok). He will never ever complain about you clinging to his arm, playing with his hands, sitting in his lap. That goes for emotionally clingy bitches too. You know he has to physically hold back from quadruple texting you (failed on holding back the first 2 times) so if you’re messaging him a lot?? Marriage.
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leclerc-hs · 8 months ago
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wait for your love - cl16
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pairing: arranged marriage!charles x fem!reader summary: in which you're in a fake marriage OR you and your fake husband might be in love with one another warnings: none?? no smut in this part (SORRY), badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD!, angst, pining???, jealousy, complicated feelings word count: 3.6k author's note: I'm still unsure how i feeeeel about this one but I tried my best!! I think writing about an arranged marriage is a little hard because i didnt want it to be mafia related so this was my take on it. there will be a second part!! i also want to mention that all these separate parts are just events that are little peaks into their marriage. it is not in the span of a week or anything, it takes place over time. they do not go from nothing to being in love in the span of one week. just wanted to make sure you guys were aware of that LOL. ok love u all. sorry if this sucks.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE MARRIAGE WAS merely a façade, designed solely to serve the interests of both of your media images. You weren’t in love—far from it…right?
“Charles! How are you and the beautiful Mrs. doing?” A reporter placed a microphone in his face, an eager grin pulled on his lips as he awaited an answer.
“Elle est tellement merveilleuse, n’est-ce pas?” She’s so wonderful, isn’t she? His gaze strayed from the reporter to where you stood a few feet down the carpet, posing for the dozens of cameras. “Tellement belle.”So beautiful.
His eyes remained transfixed on you, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as he watched you approach. The chatter of the reporter beside him became distant background noise, overshadowed by the sight of your radiant smile. With each step you took closer, a surge of warmth flooded through him, causing his heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Charles turned back to the reporter just as he said “Looks like she is making her way over here!”
“Salut beau gosse!” Hi handsome! You gently press your lips to his cheek, the warmth of your smile radiating as Charles’ face lights up upon feeling your kiss. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, a comforting and possessive touch that speaks volumes of his affection and protectiveness towards you. A united front.
“You guys are seriously too cute!” 
The both of you smile largely at the reporter, thanking him, before heading down the carpet to enter the movie premiere.
It wasn’t until you crossed through the main doors of the building that you drop the smile, and his hand drops from the small of your back.
“Tellement crédule.” So gullible. He utters the words briefly, prompting a nod from you before you take a small, deliberate step back, putting some distance between the two of you. 
-
You learned early into the arrangement that Charles wasn’t capable of love. His heart seemed barricaded behind the walls of his ambition, his sole focus on climbing up the ladder of success in his career. It seemed easy at first though, it’s not like the either of you had any feelings for each other.
“Assez!” Charles roared from behind his imposing oak desk, his voice echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” His words cut through the tense atmosphere like a thunderclap, commanding your attention and halting any further discourse with an authority that brooked no argument.
With a subtle roll of your eyes, the delicate sundress draped over your form swayed gracefully with each purposeful step towards his desk. His gaze, cold and piercing, met yours as you reached out, your fingertips lightly grazing the polished wood surface. Leaning in just slightly, you locked eyes with him.
“Je vais me répéter une fois de plus,” I will repeat myself once more. You declared, your tone carrying a hint of assertiveness. Tracing the edge of the desk with a meticulously manicured nail, you maintained your composure, refusing to yield under his scrutinizing stare. “You need to be more careful in public.”
Your cheeks flushed red with frustration, a stark contrast against the determined set of your jaw. Despite the tension, Charles couldn’t help but be captivated by just how stunning you appeared in that moment. He couldn’t tell if he hated you or just wanted to fuck you.
He scoffed before reclining back in his chair, the top buttons of his shirt carelessly undone. His tousled hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times—or perhaps someone else had.
He watched as your eyes traced along his disheveled hair and the partially undone buttons of his shirt, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Jealous, mon ange?” He teased; voice laced with amusement. Now it was your turn to scoff.
Mon ange. Him and that stupid nickname.
“Jamais.” Never. You replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you turned around. With a subtle sway of your dress, it raised slightly, offering him a glimpse of the lace set beneath it. Without another word, you walked out of the room, leaving him to ponder just how badly he wanted to remove that dress from your body.
He always resented how you seemed impervious to his charms. No matter his efforts, you remained aloof, seemingly untouched by his presence. It bothered him to no end. To him, you were an epitome of perfection, a constant reminder of his own shortcomings.
-
“Es-tu affamé?” Are you hungry?
You didn’t care if he was. You just needed to distract yourself from the fact he never came home last night. From the fact that he came home obviously smelling like another woman.
The marks on his neck had your throat feeling tight. Marks from another woman. Marks on your husband.
You tried your best to ignore the dark purple marks littered on his neck, and the tiredness in his eyes as he plopped down on the chair across from you. The umbrella in the center of the table, protecting you both from the bright sun as you sit beside the pool.
“Non, simplement fatigué.” Just tired.
You nodded slowly, your movements languid as you bit into a strawberry, its juices trickling carelessly past your lips and trailing down your neck in a sensuous cascade.
Charles couldn’t help but allow his gaze to follow the path of the juice, his eyes tracing its journey down your neck, almost reaching the enticing curve of your breasts.
You made no effort to wipe away the trail of juice, the glistening droplets lingering on your skin like a tantalizing invitation. With a knowing smile, you relish in the anticipation, fully aware of the effect it had on Charles. Men, they’re too easy.
“You should cover up those marks.” You bit into the rest of the strawberry, before standing from the table, preparing to dip into the pool. Charles hands reached out as you walked by him, his fingers dipping into the strings of the bikini bottoms at your hips. 
His touch seared through you like a branding iron, leaving a scorching trail of sensation in its wake. 
“Est-ce que ç ate derange?” Does it bother you? He looked up at you, his face serious.
The words felt like lead in your throat, heavy with unspoken truth. It didn’t bother you, did it? But deep down, it gnawed at you like a persistent ache, an undeniable discomfort you refused to acknowledge.
“No.” You attempted to push out of his grip, to no avail. “Lâche-moi.” Let go of me. He didn’t.
Never, is what he wanted to say.
“What’s wrong?” He questioned; his eyebrows scrunched as he looked up at you from his chair.
Your hands slipped around his wrists that rested on your hips. “Rien ne va pas.” Nothing is wrong. He cocked his head to the side, as if to say liar. You finally pull out of his grasp, walking towards the pool and jumping in.
End of discussion.
-
“Did you really need to eye fuck her the whole night?” You half-shouted in the passenger seat of his car, the cool leather seats contrasting with the warmth of your bare thighs clad in the mini skirt.
“Did you really take that guy’s number?” He half-shouted back, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. 
“What’s wrong with taking his number?”
There was nothing wrong with taking his number. You both agreed you can date other people if it was kept under the wraps. But despite the coolness of the leather against your skin, it did little to quell the agitation simmering within Charles.
Perhaps it was the rarity of you into dating others. It wasn’t that you couldn’t attract men; in fact, men often vied for your attention. Rather, it was your own inclination against one-night stands that set you apart. Charles concluded in that moment that this must be the reason for his discomfort. And considering you had finally shown interest in someone, did it imply he was special?
“Tout le monde remarque!” Everyone noticed!  He spat out the words, unable to conjure a coherent response in his frustration. Deep down, he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with simply exchanging numbers.
You laughed, a carefree melody that seemed to dance through the car, causing you to lean forward over your lap. The casualness of your reaction grated against Charles, intensifying his frustration. How could you be so nonchalant about accepting another man’s number? The knot of unease in his stomach tightened, gnawing at him with a persistence he couldn’t comprehend.
“So?” You turned towards him; his eyes were focused solely on the road. “It’s not like I fucked him in front of everybody.”
Charles head snapped briefly towards you; his eyes narrowing with sharp intensity. The mere thought of you being intimate with another man felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard, setting his teeth on edge with raw, visceral discomfort.
Why was he so bothered? It’s not like he doesn’t fuck other girls.
-
“Où vas-tu?” Where are you going? You found yourself stood in the archway of the kitchen; Charles leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of water in his hand. 
His eyes trailed down your figure, a short black dress that hugged your curves. He felt his patience wearing thin as he watched you engrossed in your phone screen, fingers tapping away and a large smile on your face. 
Who were you texting?
“Hm?” You said, still smiling down at your screen. “Où vas-tu?” He egged on, his tone dripping with impatience at your lack of an answer.
“Oh, j’ai un rendez-vous.” I have a date. You tore your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you came downstairs. Lifting your eyes, you met Charles with an infectious smile spreading across your face. The sheer warmth and joy emanating from you caused Charles’s heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm.
A date? He felt sick.
Charles remained silent for a few moments, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand betraying the turmoil within him. The sudden crash of the glass hitting the kitchen floor startled you both, causing a shared flinch as shards slid across the tiled surface.
“What about my event tonight?” He disregarded the broken glass around him, his attention consumed by the word “date” echoing relentlessly in his mind.
“Pretend I’m sick or something,” You tilt your head in confusion. “You’ve gone to events without me before.”
It wasn’t until you went to make a step towards the broken glass that Charles snapped out of it. “Don’t come near, tu pourrais te faire mal.” You could get hurt.
The words made you stop in your tracks and your heart clench slightly.
“Je dois y aller.” I must go.
Your eyes meet Charles one last time, you offer him a small smile before pulling your phone to your ear and answering it with a smile.
Leaving Charles alone in the kitchen, the lingering question of when this feeling would dissipate hung heavily in the air.
“Je ne veux pas que tu partes.” I don’t want you to go. He muttered to nobody but himself in the empty house.
-
You went on a relentless series of dates since then, each time returning home with a grin that seemed to mock Charles. He longed to wipe that smug smile off your face, but deep down, all he truly desired was to see you genuinely happy. Yet, the idea of your happiness being derived from someone else filled him with a sense of dread he couldn’t shake.
One night, Charles felt his sanity slipping as he anxiously waited for your return, each passing minute amplifying his restlessness. Was this what you did when he was away?
His unease peaked when you finally walked through the door well past noon, wearing a smile that seemed out of place and with your hair tousled, a stark departure to your usual pristine appearance. A faint, barely perceptible mark gracing your collarbone served as Charles’ triggering a tumult of emotions within him.
“Did you fuck him?” His voice was gruff as he walked up to you by the front door, essentially cornering you between the front door and his body.
Your eyes widened at his tone and question.
“Cela ne te regarde pas!” That’s none of your business! You shouted, your finger pressing into his chest.
His eyes blazed with fury, the green in them almost appearing black. “C’est tout à fait de mon affaire!” It’s all of my business! 
He was aware of his irrationality, but despite that knowledge, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming emotions stirring within him. All he wanted was for the burning ache in his chest to subside.
“Ce n’est pas juste.” That’s not fair. You countered, your narrowed eyes reflecting your simmering anger, your chest flushing red with frustration as you breathed heavily.
“Tu es ma femme.” You are my wife. He folded his arms firmly across his chest, the sinewy muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his imposing presence.
You rolled your eyes, “C’est faux.” It’s fake. The words almost hurt to say aloud.
“Is it?” His words were short as he looked down at you, his gaze unfaltering, almost begging you to admit that there is something between you two.
“Oui.”
You pushed past him, rushing up the stairs and slamming your bedroom door shut.
-
You didn’t always fight though. There were good and bad days. Almost like a real marriage, right?
“Mon ange, wear the blue one.” His voice came from a distance as he sat on the edge of your bed, surrounded by the chaos of your closet. You felt a sense of panic wash over you, unable to find solace in any garment you tried on. You couldn’t even decide on a color.
“You always look good in that one, yeah?” He continued; his tone almost absentminded. Despite your turmoil, his words elicited a small smile, causing a faint blush to rise on your cheeks. Grateful that he couldn’t witness your reaction, you silently thanked whatever higher power existed. You vowed never to let him see you blush from his words.
You stepped out from your closet a few moments later, the blue silk dress that left little to the imagination of your breasts, with a small thankful smile on your face. Charles felt his hands itching to touch you as you leaned over the vanity, applying a last coat of lip gloss.
“Prête?” Ready? You turned back towards him, the small pebble of your nipples poking through the thin fabric, a sight that momentarily arrested Charles’s attention. With an effort, he tore his gaze away, clearing his throat discreetly before nodding in response and leading you out the house.
“Pourquoi cela?” What is this for? You quickly ask about the purpose of tonight over the low murmur of the radio as Charles pulls into the valet area of the event.
“It’s for charity,” He swung open his car door, the faint sound of camera clicks filling the air in the moment it remained ajar before he swiftly closed it again. With a sense of urgency, he hurried around the car to open your door, his movements a flurry of activity as he sought to ensure your comfort.
Tonight, he remained steadfastly by your side, his attention solely focused on you, his wife. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, even as other females vied for his attention with near desperation. It was a departure from his usual behavior, as if he finally decided to listen to your complaints.
“Tu es magnifique.” You look beautiful. He muttered into your ear, his words meant for you alone, shielded from prying cameras. It caught you off guard—a genuine compliment, untainted by presence of the reporters or observers.
-
“Mon ange, regarde tes cheveux!” Look at your hair! Charles laughter filled the kitchen, reverberating off the walls with a hearty resonance. It wasn’t long until you joined in, your laughter mixing with his in symphony. The sight of both of you covered in flour from your baking rendezvous added a touch of whimsy to the moment, the white powder dusting your hair like a playful snowfall.
You stepped closer towards him, a playful pout forming on your lips, while he looked down at you with a twinkle in his vibrant green eyes. The intensity of the green hue in his eyes was so striking that it caused your stomach to flutter with nervous anticipation.
You noticed his eyes briefly flicker to your lips before meeting with yours again. A silent ask.
His flour dusted fingertips rested against your jaw, holding your face in the palm of his hands, while his eyes flickered to your lips again. 
“Laisse-moi t’embrasser, s’il te plait.” Let me kiss you, please. His words were so quiet, as if you both were secluded in your own bubble. You didn’t answer as your eyes trailed all over his face. As if you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.
“Ne me fais pas supplier.” Don’t make me beg.
He could feel the rapid pace of your heart, almost beating out of your chest as he uttered the words. You nodded in response, but before you could even finish the nod, his lips crashed into yours.
It was anything but gentle. As if, you both had waited years to be able to do this without a camera in your presence.
His tongue slipped into your mouth almost instantly, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips and melded with his own. He groaned in response, his arms encircling your waist to draw you closer, pressing you flush against his chest before guiding your back against the messy countertop. One hand found its place against the nape of your neck and jawline, holding your head in place with gentle insistence. Meanwhile, the other hand tenderly played with the ends of your hair before wrapping them around his fist, holding your hair firmly yet tenderly.
“Si doux.” So sweet. He murmured against your lips; his breath warm against your skin as he continued to savor the moment. 
Your hands instinctively wrapped around his biceps, holding him close, though he showed no inclination to pull his body away from yours.
His lips trailed along your jawline as he pulled the ends of your hair, lulling you head back to give him more access to your neck. Another soft moan left your lips, escaping into the kitchen, as he sucked on the spot where that mark once was.
“Drive me crazy, mon ange.” He muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your neck, along your jawline, until he met your lips again with a soft peck.
Your eyes met his and you could’ve sworn you would’ve dropped to your knees right then and there for him. 
The distant ring of a cell phone was heard in the background, immediately causing you to push him away from you. Your cellphone.
You looked at Charles with a sense of panic. What were you doing?
As if Charles could sense that panic, he brushed off the pain with a small smile. “Tu devrais répondre à ça.” You should answer that.
-
You didn’t see Charles for a few days following the kiss. 
“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here? Charles eyebrows were furrowed as he took in your figure standing before him, an unnamed bag in hand.
You shook the bag in your hand, “Déjeuner.” Lunch. You waved the bag around like it was no big deal. Like you didn’t come all the way to Maranello to bring your fake husband lunch.
You found yourself unsure of the exact reason behind your actions, yet you did it anyways. With Charles away for the past few days, leaving you alone at home, a peculiar sense of longing seemed to linger in the air. Though you refused to admit it outright, all indications hinted at a quiet, yearning for his presence that you got so accustomed to over time.
“Tu n’avais pas besoin de le faire.” You didn’t need to. A smile pulled on his lips as he slung his arm over your shoulder, grateful for the sight of you.
“Je m’ennuyais.” I was bored. You confessed with a shrug, a hint of sheepishness coloring your tone.
He pulled you into an empty room, wordlessly. Instructing you to take a seat as he grabbed two waters from the nearby fridge.
“Comment se passe le travail?” How’s work? You asked, although your inquiry was more out of habit than genuine interest. Since the kiss, you found yourself at a loss for how to engage with him, unsure of how to navigate the shifting dynamics between you two.
He chuckled softly, choosing to settle into a chair beside you rather than sitting across from you, as if he wanted to be close to you. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. He confessed quietly, his tone revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed with you.
The tips of your ears flushed with a rosy hue in response to his confession, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze softened as you reached into the bag, delicately arranging the food on the table before him, each movement infused with a tenderness that spoke volumes.
“C’est bon.” It’s okay. He muttered, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. “I know you missed me too.”  A smirk pulled on his lips as you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. 
You didn’t deny it.
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thebearer · 9 months ago
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love, i found you |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: how anchovy berzatto came into your and carmen's lives. or the story of anchovy berzatto, dumpster kitten turned spoiled cat.
contains: mentions of animal being abandoned/ stray kitten. small, malnourished anchovy but nothing graphic (i won't do that to you i promise). mainly fluff. language. richie being a hater a little lol.
word count: 2.9k+
“Chefs, keep the stations clear-” 
“-Has anyone seen Richie?-” 
“-Jeff, I need more branzino for the seven fishes-” 
“-Heard, Tina. There, uh, I think there’s some-” 
“-Carm, have you seen the books for tonight?-” 
“-Has anyone seen Richie? Richie! Where the fuck is he?” 
A chaotic melody of screams meshed together in some kind of disarray of harmony, one speaking over the other, the sound of pots and pans clashing, hisses of sizzling food in them a backtrack to the madness. 
“I’m right here, Sugar.” Richie scoffed, buttoning the front of his jacket. He patted your shoulder in passing, cheek pressing lightly to yours, muttering, “How’re you, sweetheart? Doin’ good?” In passing. 
He was the first to notice you, even over Carmen. The rest of the staff bustling through the kitchen prep, trying to squeeze everything in before the family meal. Carmen had invited you to family, but you were starting to regret agreeing, feeling useless and in the way in the face of the hectic nature. 
“Where have you been?” Sugar huffed at Richie, heels clacking in a stomp towards the office. “I have a million fucking things- oh, hey.” She paused, eyes lighting in a greeting when they landed on you. 
“I didn’t know you were here. How are you?” Sugar hugged you, a soft side hug in greeting that you returned stiffly. 
“I’m good. How are you?” You muttered, eyes still scanning the kitchen. 
Sugar let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Ask me in about an hour.” She shook her head. “I have a million fucking things to do as I was telling Richie.” She turned, eyes narrowing pointedly at the man. “Only two dishwashers showed up tonight.” 
“You’re shitting me.” Richie groaned. “That fuckin’ jagoff- take a chance on me, bullshit.” 
“Yeah, so Neil needs to wash utensils tonight between the floor, ok?” Sugar jabbed a manicured nail into her clipboard. 
“Is there anything I can do?” You squeaked, much smaller than you meant it to. Richie and Sugar turned to you, both blinking, like they’d forgotten you were even there. “Carm invited me to family, but I can help. I can wash dishes if you need me too. I don’t have anything else to do.” 
“That would be-” Sugar nodded in a sigh, a small smile spreading across her face. “Did I ever tell you I love you? Seriously.” She turned to Carm, who was passing behind her. “Carm, don’t ever fuck this up with her, you hear me? I’ll kill you.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen muttered, and you knew by the drone in his voice he wasn’t listening, too consumed with other things, discarding vegetable scraps into the trash. 
“This thing is fuckin’ full. Can they not- Oh, hey.” Carmen’s features softened at the sight of you, spine straightening gently. “When’d you get here?” 
“Just a few minutes ago.” You leaned forward, his lips brushing your cheek softly in greeting. “I didn’t want to disrupt. You seemed… busy.” 
Carmen snorted. “Yeah, uh, that’s a word for it. Busy, out of my fuckin’ mind because this trash is fuckin’ full!” He boomed at no one in particular. 
“Now, I gotta take this out and replace it, and that puts us back, and every second counts, does it not, cousin?” Carmen rambled, glaring at Richie, yanking the sides of the trashcan off the rim. 
“Look, I didn’t know that the two didn’t show-” 
“-No, of course you didn’t. Can’t pay attention to shit-” 
“-Alright, let’s bring it down.” Sugar lifted her hands, eyeing Carmen with a slight nod of her head towards you. 
“Sorry.” Carmen muttered, eyes lifting to you. “Sorry, cousin. I-I’m just, we’re fuckin’ booked, an-and I’m so far behind-” 
“-I’ll take it.” You squeaked, a little too eagerly. Carmen’s brows furrowed, you cut him off before he could finish. “No, seriously, you’re all busy. I’ll go take this out and then I’ll help make sure the utensils are ready.” 
“N-No, I can’t ask you to do that. That would be shitty.” Carmen shook his head, pulling the trash bag out of the can. 
“Good thing you didn’t ask me. I offered.” Your hand wrapped over his, squeezing his closed fist gently with a tiny grin. “Go, I got it.” 
Carmen beamed, cheeks tinging pink. If he wouldn’t have been in the middle of the kitchen prep rush, he would’ve kissed you, pressed you right up against the wall and smooched you sloppy. Instead, he let you take the trash. 
“Gary!” Richie called behind you. “Make sure you let her back in, alright? Just knock and he’ll let you back in. You’re a fucking life saver, y’know that?” Richie beamed, pushing the heavy steel door open so you could duck under his arm. 
It was surprisingly warm- well, warm-ish for Chicago in the winter. No snow, no need for a heavy jacket but brisk enough for a chill. The dumpster lid was already flipped over, and you were thankful for that, slinging the bag over the edge, turning to go back inside. 
You stopped, halting just as you’d turned. The tiniest squeak of a cry, desperate and alert. You turned scanning the alley walls, the corners by the dumpster until you heard it again, that same pitiful whimper echoing off the metal of the dumpster- inside the dumpster. 
You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t leave it, whatever it was, it sounded pathetic and in pain. Your eyes flickered back to the building, you could see Gary in the small window, head turned towards the others. They were so busy, you couldn’t ask Carmen or even Fak. 
“I’ll be right back.” You cooed towards the dumpster frantically. “Just hold tight for me, ok? I’ll get you out, one sec.” It was silly, but you felt the need to say it, even if just for yourself. 
Sprinting towards the door, you knocked on the glass rapidly. Gary pushed it open. “I need your help.” You stopped him before he could walk away. “J-Just for a second. I promise.” 
Gary’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, are you- you’re ok?” 
“Yeah, I mean,” You turned towards the dumpster. “There’s something in there. I think it’s a cat? I think it’s hurt.” 
“A cat?” Gary’s eyes widened, still, he followed your furious pace towards the dumpster. “Wait, I-I don’t think- Lemme get Carm-” 
“-No, he’s busy.” You shook your head. “It will just take me a second. I just need you to help me get down.” 
Gary paused, watching you in complete awe- maybe horror- push off a discarded crate towards the ledge of the dumpster. “This is- no, this is fuckin’ crazy, I’m sorry. You don’t know what that thing has-” 
Your small gasp cut him off, eyes rounding in awe. There in the piles of trash, a fuzzy blip of orange fur nestled into the black bags- a tiny, scraggly kitten, mewling helplessly. 
“Oh my God,” You muttered. “It’s a baby.” 
“A baby?” Gary gawked. 
“A kitten baby.” You corrected, lip jutting. “I have to get it.” 
“I really don’t think you should be doin’ this.” Gary looked back at the door then to you. “You can’t go in the dumpster, c’mon.” 
“You want to go in instead?” You huffed, eyes rolling at his disgusted snarl. “Just- I’ll do it.” You leaned to the side, taking a deep breath of fresh air, swallowing down a gag at the expected smell. 
Holding your breath, you let yourself fall into the dumpster, the squishy bags of trash uneasy under your feet. The small kitten whined, crying at the shift of your weight. 
“This is fuckin’ insane.” Gary muttered, shaking his head. 
“Aye, Sweeps, what the fuck?” Richie’s voice boomed, the slam of the door making both of you jump. “Take your smoke break later, you jagoff, I need your-” 
“-I’m not-” Gary huffed in annoyance. “She’s in the dumpster.” 
“Who?” Richie asked. 
“Me!” You swallowed a retch, the pungent stench of the trash filling your senses as you crouched closer towards the kitten. At least it wasn’t summer. 
“Why the fuck is Carmen’s girl in the dumpster?” Richie roared. “Carmen! Get out here now, cousin!” 
“Why is she in the dumpster? Why the fuck are you in the dumpster?” Richie’s furious stomps were muted from the outside. You cringed, still trying to hold your breath, coaxing the small kitten into your hold. 
The poor thing, so small- so fucking small. Shaking in your hold, crying and whining, but turned into the warmth of your palm. A cry bubbled from your chest, mixing with a gag at the smell. 
“Cousin, what? What the fuck is-” Carmen bounded outside, stopping when he saw the top of your head pop up, out of the dumpster. “The fuck?” 
“Your girl’s in the garbage.” Richie shook his head. 
“Yeah, why the fuck- Baby, w-why are you- What are you doin’?” Carmen jogged towards you, hoisting himself over the side of the dumpster, arm extended for you. 
“She found a cat.” Gary rolled his eyes in annoyance. 
“A cat?” Richie repeated. 
“A kitten.” You showed Carmen, pulling the small thing from your chest, where you cradled him close to you. 
Carmen blinked at you. “You went in the dumpster f-for a cat? A cat?” He shook his head, confused. “Baby, that thing could have diseases a-and rabies and shit-” 
“-He’s starving.” You countered, lip jutting in a firm pout. Carmen hated the way he could feel himself melting. The determination in your glare, ferocious yet soft. 
“I could hear him crying, a-and I couldn’t leave him.” You shook your head, petting the tiny kitten’s soft fur. 
“So you climbed in the trash?” Richie snarled in disgust. 
“Climbed right in the dumpster.” Gary nodded. 
“Alright.” Carmen looked over his shoulder at them, a pointed glare on his face. “Just- Lemme get you outta there, alright?” 
“Here,” You handed him the small cat, carefully cradling him. Carmen hesitated, a grimace in his scowl. Your eyes narrowed at him, a warning. “Hold him gently.” 
So he did, of course he did, it’s what you wanted. Passing him to Richie with the same snarl of instructions, pulling you out of the dumpster, a firm hold on your waist as you climbed back over. 
Richie was passing you the kitten with a grimace of disgust, dusting his hands off dramatically. “There. There’s your garbage cat that can not come back in the restaurant. Cousin,” He glared at Carmen. “We don’t want another fuckin’ C. Get shut down for havin’ fleas or shit.” 
Carmen glared at him. “No, he’s right.” You nodded. “Can you bring me my purse? I’m going to see if I can get him checked out. I’ll be back.” 
“Let me come with you.” Carmen offered, motioning for Gary to go get your things, untying his blue apron. 
“Carm, no. You’re busy. I can do it.” You shook your head. 
Carmen rolled his eyes. “No, I’m comin’ with you. Last time I let you do somethin’ alone. End up in the fuckin’ garbage.” He snorted playfully. “Besides, I think there’s a place down the street. The vet has been in a few times. I’ll see if I can, y’know, coerce him to squeeze us in.” 
“Coerce?” You lifted your brows playfully, petting the tiny kitten gently, trying to still his quivering. 
“Yeah, coerce.” Carmen rolled his eyes, swapping his apron out for his jacket, handing you yours. “Give ‘im a free dinner or somethin’.” 
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“No fuckin’ way, no.” Richie shook his head. “Cousin, you’re already late- Sydney is pissed, and you’re not bringing that fuckin’ flea bag in here.” 
You held the small cat close to your chest, still damp from his bath at the vet. Carmen’s coercing had worked, Dr. Vallenti had took the bribe happily, squeezing you both in for a check up. The tiny kitten, barely two pounds, malnourished and positively pitiful. You didn’t even have to ask, Carmen knew from the way you held him close to your chest, eyes rounding just barely when the vet asked if you’d be keeping him. 
“Of course,” Carmen nodded easily, squeezing your knee gently. “Just give him whatever he needs for right now, and what we need t’get. We’ll get it.” 
“He doesn’t have fleas, Richie.” You sneered, cradling the small cat in your jacket to keep him warm. His shake was down to a soft tremble, not as constant but still there. 
“Yeah fuckin’ right, rabies then-” 
“-Cousin.” Carmen sneered. Richie stopped with a huff, throwing his arms up and muttering something as he stormed away. 
“Here,” Carmen muttered, a hand on the small of your spine, pushing you into his office. “I’ll grab you a bowl and a plate for his food, alright? You just, just stay in here, ok? Richie’s right, he can’t be out.” 
“I’ll keep him in here.” You nodded, sitting in the small chair. “Do you have a towel?” 
“Yeah, I’ll grab that too.” Carmen slung his jacket off, running a hand through his messy curls. “I, uh, I gotta get scrubbed up and put my stuff on, but if you need anything just yell, alright?” He ducked out to the small closet, snatching a towel and two dishes off the drying rack. 
“I’ll be alright.” You hummed, fingertip tracing down the kitten’s tiny head. He purred under your touch, made your chest burst with warmth. 
Carmen’s lips pulled in a smile, putting the dishes on the ground for you, shedding his own shirt. You were entirely enamored with the cat, that was for sure, not even a sideways, ogling glance at Carmen’s shirtless figure. 
“Shit.” Your head snapped up, wide eyed at Carmen. “I forgot the dishes. I-I’m so sorry, I can-” 
“-It’s alright, baby.” Carmen dropped his pants, biting back a smirk at how your eyes did drop this time. “Tina got her son and his friend to come in. We’re good, baby.” 
“Oh.” You nodded, eyes lingering on his boxer clad ass, before back to the kitten. “Good.” 
Carmen shrugged on his chef’s coat, walking over to you. “It’ll be kinda a late night.” His eyes softened in apology. “I’ll have someone run you a plate when we get outta the weeds, alright?” 
“Thank you.” You muttered, head tilting back for a kiss. Carmen obliged, your lips pulling him in for a longer kiss than he expected, sweet- left his body burning with heat. “Thank you.” You repeated, eyes shining sweetly. 
“C’mon.” Carmen whispered gently, shaking his head at you. “You know I would do anythin’.” He pressed a kiss to your head, looking down at the small kitten before he left. 
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“I think he likes it?” You whispered, on your stomach next to Carmen. 
It was nearly two in the morning, the two of you just returning back to the brownstone you called home. Lying on the freshly laid tile of the kitchen, you watched the small cat explore the space. 
“Yeah, think he’s gettin’ used to it.” Carmen muttered, shaking the small stick so the feather danced over the kitten, grinning when he’d scrunch and bat at it clumsily. 
You pressed your head into your hand, watching the kitten prowl, ears finally perked up instead of flat back in fear. “We have to name him.” You blinked, looking up at Carmen. 
“Yeah,” Carmen grinned. “Yeah, that-that would be a good idea, right?” He beamed playfully. 
You smiled, gently petting the kitten’s back, smiling at how he arched into your touch. “I think it should be something kinda with the restaurant.” You suggested. “Since that’s where we found him.” 
“Yeah? Like Bear?” Carmen muttered. 
Your nose crinkled gently. “He doesn’t really look like a Bear.” 
“No,” Carmen agreed, shaking his head. “More like a Garfield.” 
You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. “That’s such a gimme name.” You shook your head. “Maybe not the restaurant, exactly, but… similar?” 
“Yeah? Like Trash Can?” Carmen muttered, lips curling playfully. 
You gasped lightly, smacking his leg playfully. “No.” You huffed. “Something maybe with food?” 
“Carrot?” 
“No.” You pouted lightly, head tilting towards the small cat, occupied with Carmen’s sweatpant strings. “What about, like, Anchovy?” 
“Anchovy?” Carmen snorted in amusement softly. 
“Yeah, like the fish.” You shrugged softly. “And cats eat fish- well, in the cartoons they do, y’know?” 
“Yeah, I know, baby.” Carmen grinned softly down at you. “You think he looks like an Anchovy?” 
The small kitten turned, perking towards Carmen, padding happily over to him. Your face lit, glowing with beaming pride and adoration as Carmen scooped up the small kitten, let him rub his face into his chest sleepily- sweetly. You thought you might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sight. 
“Alright.” Carmen laughed lightly. “Think you’re right. Think he’s an Anchovy.” 
“Anchovy Berzatto.” You hummed, crawling between Carmen’s spread legs, petting the tiny cat. You smiled so brightly at Carmen, his own cheeks burned, flaming under your radiant affection. 
Your lips caught him again, pulling him in for a sweet, longing kiss over the small kitten’s head. Your hands in Carmen’s hair, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him like a lifeline- it made his head swim, chest swell with adoration. 
Anchovy chirped, teetering on a meow and yawn, little paw stretching in Carmen’s hold. Your forehead pressed to Carmen's, you ducked down to coo at the small kitten, moving to sit in between Carmen’s legs, your back to his chest. 
Home with your little family, complete with the little kitten, Anchovy Berzatto.
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irndad · 1 year ago
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Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3
As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah
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I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333
wc:1.1k
There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.
Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.
He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.
“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.
She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”
He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?
It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.
She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.
Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.
Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.
“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.
He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.
“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.
“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“
“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.
“What happened?” He asks again.
“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.
The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-
“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.
“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”
“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“
She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“
“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”
“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”
And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.
And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.
Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.
“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”
Her voice comes out small.
“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“
She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.
“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”
Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.
She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.
“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”
After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.
It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.
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akirqx · 3 months ago
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how to properly comfort a wild Miya Atsumu
— a guide.
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Step 1: ask the atsumu what’s wrong.
You know you’re going to be listening to him rant for hours when he comes home in a bad mood.
The opening and then the sudden slam of the front door to your apartment takes your attention away from your phone.
You look up to see a bothered boyfriend with a slight pout to his face as he abandons his belongings on the floor and heads straight to plop himself right on top of you on the couch.
It wasn’t exactly unusual for him to do this, so you figured he was just extra tired today and continued whatever you were doing on your phone.
It wasn’t until he kept dramatically sighing and shifting every minute that you figured you should probably ask him what’s wrong..
“Are you okay tsumu” you put your phone down next to you, making eye contact with him.
“It’s ’bout time ya asked” he pouted, shifting once more so that he basically bear hugged you. You sighed, rolling your eyes as he wasted no time explaining.
“I practice with a bunch of idiots” here he goes again..he complains at least once a week about the same thing.
Step 2: do NOT push the atsumu away because he’s all sweaty (do not).
You listened to him rant for a couple of minutes, the warmth of his body providing as a blanket for you even if you weren’t cold.
“Tsumu….i love you but you’re so sweaty.” You sighed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp which only resulted in him tightening his hold.
“Don’t be rude” he pouted looking straight up at you as he used your chest to hold his head up. “What, can’t cuddle my girl now?”
“No, please shower” you lightly push his face away, only smiling at his deepened pout.
“No”
“Yes”
“No”
“Yes”
Step 3: if you didn’t listen to step 2, a kiss will cheer the atsumu up!
After your boyfriend lost the battle and showered, he returned to the couch. Not one word being said and instead of him laying on top of you, he sat on the other side of the couch, turning the tv on.
This made you raise an eyebrow and stare directly at him. He refused to make eye contact, even though he knew that you knew he knew you were staring.(lmao sorry).
“Tsumu” you called out, watching him pretend to be soo interested in whatever was on tv
“Seriously”
“…”
You sigh and crawl up to where he sat on the couch, forcing yourself into his arms, which, wasn’t hard since he would never miss the chance of holding you.
You lean up to press a sweet kiss on his cheek, and Atsumu immediately turned to look at you, a cheeky grin now plastered on his face.
Step 4: give into the cuddles.
Now that you are in his arms, his upset mood from earlier seemed to vanish. And now? Now, you were stuck cuddling for the rest of the night. Good luck !
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ok I hate writers block ik this sucks..
This was also inspired by a post I read a couple of months ago ! I’m really sorry I’m not sure who it’s from or even which character it’s for since i read it like back in April (I think) but this is inspired !!
also plsplsplspls send me requests or prompts or smtg plsplspls
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primofate · 1 year ago
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Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]
Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?
Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  
Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)
Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?
Aether
“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 
“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 
You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.
What he does:
Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.
Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.
Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.
All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.
“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.
Albedo
“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”
What he does:
His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.
But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.
Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.
“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 
Alhaitham
“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”
“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 
What he does:
..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.
Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.
Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.
“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 
“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.
“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 
It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 
“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 
Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 
You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.
Ayato
“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.
“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.
“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.
What he does:
Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 
Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.
“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.
“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 
“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 
“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 
You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.
Cyno
“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 
“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 
“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.
“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 
What he does:
Doesn’t know what to do.
Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.
Torn between revealing himself now or later. 
Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.
As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 
You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.
There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.
“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.
He heard. 
“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 
There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.
“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 
“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 
You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”
“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”
Dainsleif
“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 
“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.
“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 
“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.
What he does:
Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.
Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.
You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.
Dainsleif.
“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.
He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).
“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 
“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 
“Your company,”
Diluc
“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”
There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”
“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 
“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 
“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.
What he does:
Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 
but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 
He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 
“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).
“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 
“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”
“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 
The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”
The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”
He was not going to lose you too.
Itto
“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 
"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”
“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.
What he does:
Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.
“Crush?!”
You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”
Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 
Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 
You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”
“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 
Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”
You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 
Kaeya
“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.
“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 
“...Let’s change the subject,” 
What he does: 
responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.
“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 
“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.
“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 
“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”
He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.
You stay silent.
He grins.
Scaramouche
“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 
“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.
“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 
You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 
There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.
What he does:
is amused.
thinks its cute pathetic.
will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.
will be cocky.
“My eyes, huh?”
It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”
It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.
You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 
“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.
“...A book...”
“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 
“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.
“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 
“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.
“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”
You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 
You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.
Xiao
“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.
“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”
“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 
You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”
(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 
What he does:
once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.
But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 
He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.
He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.
Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.
He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 
I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:
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traveler-at-heart · 4 months ago
Note
Hello there, how are you? I don't know if you take requests at the moment but i want to ask you if you could write something with Liho?
Maybe something like, Liho didn't like any partners Nat had before Yn, and since they got together Liho likes Yn, Nat thought that maybe more than the cat loves her.
And maybe Yn left some clothes in Nat's house and when Liho misses her, she went to i don't know, a jumper, and sleep on top of it. And when Nat found Liho, she send a picture to Yn, and went next to Liho like saying "i'm gonna marry her soon"
So, this isn't exaaactly the request, but it is where the story took me! In any case, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the prompt :)
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
Natasha knew how to protect herself.
Don’t trust anyone, always look over your shoulder.
It’s what kept her alive for so long.
But it’s what made her lonely too.
The few people she dated took her dettachment as a challenge that they happily accepted but soon abandoned.
Others were disinterested in complicated affairs from the start, and so things didn’t move past a couple of dates.
Then, you.
Medical staff came and went around the Compound. Most of the team had enhanced capabilities to heal themselves; for her part, Natasha was too stubborn to go on her own.
That’s how she knew she was seriously injured.
“Agent Romanoff” you greeted, a wary smile on your lips as Natasha struggled to focus, the white lights hurting her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Confused”
“Yeah, that tracks” you nodded, turning away from the chart to look at her. “Do you remember anything?”
“An explosion…“
“And before that a bullet to your side. We were able to fix it by resecting a small portion of your liver and spleen, but you’ll need rest. For now, I’ll monitor you. Let’s think about discharging you in a couple of days”
“I can take care of myself” she objected, but struggled to sit up, pain invading her right side.
“That would be the feeling of cracked ribs” you nodded torwards her side. “I’m not asking if you want to stay, Agent. Your teammates are coming and going for missions or other engagements and you need to be monitored 24/7 for possible complications”
“What you’re saying is, I’m a prisoner here”
“Of course not” you closed the chart, smiling. “We don’t let the prisoners watch tv”
It had been mere hours, and Natasha was restless. There was nothing interesting in the tv, her phone was dead and it was ridiculous she was held captive here for “observation” when no one had checked on her for the last three hours.
“Sorry about that. Busy day here” you said with a smile, checking her blood pressure and the chart. “Any discomfort, pain?”
“No”
You nodded, asking for her permission to do a physical exam. Natasha scoffed but agreed with an eye roll.
“Bowel movement?” you asked, checking her pupils.
“No!”
“Ok, no need to get defensive” you placed your hands on each side of Natasha’s head. Your gentle touch made her squirm, and she was able to inspect you closer.
“You’re pretty” Natasha blurted out. You chuckled. “I am so sorry, I don’t know where that came from”
“No need to apologize” you smiled. “It’s the concussion”
“Right”
“Vitals are good, I’ll come back to check up on you in a bit” your pager went off. A large group of agents had just gotten back from a mission. “Squeeze the button if you need anything. Enjoy your stay with us, Agent Romanoff”
“When will I be able to go… home?” Natasha said, but you closed the door before she had a chance to finish her sentence.
Natasha hated being wrong. At midnight, the pain got bad and yet, you had to convince her she needed some medicine to ease the discomfort and rest.
But whatever you gave her worked wonders. When she openes her eyes, you were on the couch next to her bed, going through some charts and reports.
“Hey” she said. “I don’t know your name”
“Y/N” you looked up, smiling.
You sat next to her, checking her vitals as she drifted in and out of her sleep stupor. By the time she was fully awake, it was almost noon.
There you were again, munching on a cookie as you scribbled on a sheet.
“You don’t have to stay here all day”
“Oh, it’s no bother” you said, not looking up.
“No other patients right now?”
“No, it’s actually because every medic and nurse is afraid of you and they won’t bother me when I’m here”
“Glad I can be of service”
“Are you hungry? We can get you something very light to eat” you finally looked up, trying to hold back a yawn. It had been an intense night in the emergency medbay.
“What are my options?”
“Oatmeal and that’s about it”
“No coffee?”
“Nu-uh”
Natasha shruged her shoulders and nodded. You smiled, walking out of the room. At least three interns were waiting for you, asking all kinds of very stupid questions. You turned to her, as if saying, “I told you so” and left.
For the rest of the day, Natasha was the perfect patient, which obviously made you suspicious.
You repeated your physical exam, asked the same questions, got the answers minus the hint of sarcasm. You were about to turn and leave when she asked again.
“Wait! I can go home now, right?”
“Your hemoglobin is still a bit low and I’d like to wait at least another day”
“I can’t wait another day” Natasha said, glaring.
“Agent Romanoff, you can’t even go on missions right now. Whatever it is you’re so eager to do, I’m sure it can wait” you insisted, trying to avoid an argument after a 48 hour shift.
“It can’t” she insisted, and the monitor began to signal the rise of her blood pressure.
“Calm down” you asked, walking back to her bed. “Please tell me how can I help”
“It’s complicated”
“I’ll tell you what’s complicated. Pulling out bullet fragments from your stomach while I try to keep you from bleeding out. I was in that OR for eight hours and would like to guarantee you recover fully”
Natasha looked at you, and you sighed, sitting by the edge of her bed.
“I have a… cat”
“Oh”
“I need to feed her”
“Can’t someone else do it? A neighbour? One of the other Avengers?”
“Liho doesn’t like anyone, but me. If she hears or smells a stranger, she’ll freak out and attack them or try to run away” Natasha explained. “It’s not ideal considering my profession”
“Yeah” you nodded, thinking about what to do. Moving Natasha was not an option right now. “Let me try”
“Try what?”
“Try feeding Liho, is that her name?”
“It’s dangerous” Natasha warned you, sure it would end in disaster.
“My shift is ending, I can go right now” you ignored her warning. “If I could discharge you right now, I would. Don’t want a cat starving on my watch”
Natasha nodded, and gave you her address. You were surprised she had moved out of the Compound, but then again, a chief surgeon wasn’t privy to the Avengers every move.
The spy made you swear you’d call her if anything went wrong. As you opened the door to her apartment with the spare key, you were expecting to find a giant, feral animal waiting to sink its claws in your flesh.
“Liho” you called a couple of times, making sure the door was closed so she couldn’t escape. “I’m a friend of your mama, she’ll be back in a couple of days”
You were looking around the living room, when a thud behind your back made you jump. And there she was, a black cat with beautiful green eyes -that strangely, reminded you of Natasha’s-. You stared at each other, waiting for someone to move.
Liho did.
She let out a meow and rubbed herself against your leg.
“You’re the cutest” you cooed her, relaxing as she purred in your arms. “Why would Natasha even say you’re scary?”
While the cat jumped around, you searched for her food, cleaned her water bowl and her sandbox. Once you were done, you called Natasha.
“You owe me an apology”
“Did she scratch your eye out like Fury?” she sighed.
“No… wait. Is that how Fury lost his eye?”
Liho jumped on the kitchen counter, purring and rubbing herself against your arm.
“Is that Liho?”
“Yes. She has been purring and following me ever since I got here, Nat. She’s the sweetest cat and you were calling her crazy! In fact, you don’t owe me an apology, you owe it to Liho. Come here, gorgeous”
The cat responded to your words and Natasha smiled.
“I’ll stop by again before I go back to the hospital. Anything else you need?”
You filled a tote bag with everything on her list. Once you were done, you said goodbye to Liho. Thinking it might be funny, you took a selfie with her, smiling as she snuggled on your chest.
You sent it to Natasha, not thinking much of it.
Natasha’s blood pressure increased as soon as she saw the picture. No nurse dared to comment when she turned off the monitor with a smack.
“Is this really necessary?” Natasha said, fidgeting on the wheelchair.
“Humor me, Agent” you asked, pushing her to the entrance of SHIELD’s medical facilities. “This is the last time you have to follow my medical advice”
Clint was waiting for Natasha, and he looked as you wheeled her his way, clearly amused.
“How did you manage to get her to sit?”
“I have my ways” you winked at the man. Agent Barton was a far better patient, if only because you had his wife on speed dial.
“Remember, rest. Take your meds and call me if anything feels off. And say hi to Liho for me” you helped Natasha to the car, closing the door as she settled in. You waved as they drove off.
“What was that about your cat?”
“Oh, Dr. Y/L/N went to my place twice a day to feed her”
“And she survived? She must be special” Clint chuckled.
Natasha had to agree with that.
Liho was happy to see her human again, roaring like an engine as she rubbed herself on Natasha’s legs. After she came back from the hospital, the cat would never leave Natasha’s side.
The Russian also noticed that you had kept her place clean, and left some groceries and food for the first few days of her home recovery.
It was a strange feeling, being taken care of. Not unpleasant, truthfully, when it came from you. As she stayed in the confines of her apartment, Natasha pondered if it meant something else or if it was just wishful thinking.
You checked on her via text message, and that was all you could really manage to do, as you had back to back shifts and emergency procedures throughout the week. Still, you made sure to send some food to Natasha through delivery apps.
By the time you finally had more free time, it was a chilly Thursday night. As you were leaving the hospital and walking to your car, your phone rang.
“Please, not another emergency” you sighed, surprised at the name on the screen. “Hey, Agent Romanoff. How are you feeling?”
“I’m doing ok… but I might need your help”
“Nat, what’s wrong?” you dropped all formalities, rushing to your car.
“I’m fine, it’s Liho. I left the window open and she climbed all the way up the emergency stairs. And I tried but can’t go out and reach her”
“What do you mean you tried? You should have called me right away! Anyway, doesn’t matter, I’ll be there. Don’t do anything stupid, those are doctor’s orders”
By the time you got to Natasha’s apartment,  a storm was fast approaching.
“Hey, sorry for bothering you”
“It’s not… blood!”
“What?” Natasha looked down, at the place where you were pointing. Right on her stitches, there was a small stain of blood. “Oh, must have happened when I tried to reach for her”
“I knew I should have kept you for another week at the hospital” you grumbled, leading her to the couch. You found a gauze in your emergency kit and lifted her shirt, applying pressure. “Do not move. I’ll be right back”
“The stairs are slippery” she warned you as you stepped out the window. Natasha was surprised at how graceful your movements were.
You looked around, calling for Liho, but the clouds were covering the moon and the sky was dark, making it almost impossible to spot her.
“Ok, fine” you climbed up the steps, holding on to the rail. Taking a deep breath, you let out a high pitched call. “Kitty. Where’s my kitty?”
There small beads shone in the middle of the darkness, and you reached forward. Liho complained, clearly scared about the height. A thunder made her jump, climbing a lot higher.
“Liho, I take it back. You are crazy”
By the time you were able to reach her, it had begun pouring. You placed the cat inside your sweatshirt, to protect her from the rain and have both hands free to climb down.
“That was fun” you said, going inside soaking wet. You almost slipped and Natasha caught you by the waist. “Thanks” you said, feeling warm as her hand went around your back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips, and Natasha caught on, leaning forward.
In that moment, Liho peeked her head from the collar of your sweatshirt, protesting at the uncomfortable feeling of being drenched.
“Here, you need to dry” Natasha offered while you closed the window.
“Thanks, Nat”
She came back with a towel, yoga pants and a t-shirt. You tried not to swoon at the idea of wearing something of hers. Still, you said thanks and disappeared in the bathroom to get changed.
“Let me have a look” you asked when you came back, inspecting her abdomen. “Looks like it was just a small stitch on the edge of the wound. I’ll fix it if it’s alright with you?”
“Yeah, sure” Natasha nodded, and laid back as you prepared the sutures and wore gloves. You applied some local anesthesia and began to work.
“My technique is flawless. The scarring will be almost invisible” you promised.
“So, I can still wear bikinis?”
“Yeah” you nodded, trying to stay focused while the image of Natasha in a swimsuit floated around your head.
“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Liho” Natasha said in a low voice, which almost made your hands tremble. “Too bad my doctor hasn’t officially discharged me, or I’d take you out to dinner”
“How about some take out instead?” you smiled, cleaning the wound and helping her up.
“That can be done for sure”
You had pizza with beer, sitting on Natasha’s living room while Liho jumped from your lap to hers. It was the best date you ever had.
Pretty soon, the alcohol and exhaustion caught up to you and when Natasha came back from the kitchen, you were fast asleep in her couch, Liho snuggled up in your chest.
Natasha smiled, covering you with a blanket. Liho purred, and your hand went up to scratch behind her ear on pure insctinct.
“I like her too, Liho” Natasha said with a smile. “She’s definitely a keeper”
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simplyreveries · 9 months ago
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happy valentines day!! short but i did dorm leaders + vice dorm leader heree heheh.
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riddle rosehearts
riddle takes this very seriously; he is simply fretting over every detail of this day as he wants to make it as enjoyable and perfect for you. he'll go to trey expressing his concerns and talking over ideas- he prompts to doing more of the traditional route with flowers and chocolates. of course, he'll get you the prettiest red roses he could find in the gardens (the thorns are cut off too). he even went out of his way to try and make the chocolates himself.... trey was trying hard to be so supportive and not laugh when he saw the finished result. he is a flushed mess when he presents them to you, it's funny to see him so nervous. though, he spent so much time and effort over what to do, when you give him something as well, he is looking at you with the shocked but loving expression... like he wasn't expecting it. he loves it, he loves anything personal and will cherish any letters and gifts from you.
trey clover
you're going to be so sick by the end of the day from all the sweets and treats this man makes you. literally, he decorates them cute and with red, pink, white frosting with hearts- he's such a dork its so sweet. trey is a sucker for any of your compliments and praise too- since he knows his good at it. he'll be laugh and act all humble "ah, its nothing sweetheart, im glad you like it." about it but he is absolutely loving hearing that from you.
leona kingscholar
ok even if he isn't one for liking valentines day- when it comes to you, obviously he will be doing something. he always seems to cave in anyways because he can't really say no to you. let's not forget this man is still a prince... it doesn't matter what it is you want he can pretty much get his hands on it. leona would give you something incredibly nice, but small like an accessory for yourself that he knows would suit your taste. he does pay attention to these things believe it or not. plus, he will get you chocolates- even if he is a jerk and takes one or two, while grumbling about how you like all this "mushy stuff". he's smiling though, you can see it.
ruggie bucchi
ruggie struggles to make things work out to get stuff for himself, so he can't help but stress and worry a little about what he should do for you. he never seemed to be one to like the holidays for this reason. but he wants to be able to give to you the world yet he's stuck with working extra around places in town near campus or doing stuff for other people at school to be able to get extra savings to get you something, even if it's simple. with the addition of his own personal things, as he does hand pick the flowers (one's he knows you'd find pretty and like) and set the up together. he plays off his nervousness that day with a cheeky grin and laugh, but he feels so warm in the face.
azul ashengrotto
loves valentines day or any holiday because he can figure out a way to profit off of it-- clearly that changes a bit since he's been with you. he wants to make the day perfect for you, he makes a special time at the end of the day to have dinner with you at the mostro lounge. (he'll make sure jade knows to have floyd be in line haha). he tries to be the perfect gentlemen of course... pulling out chair, opening the door, it's funny to see him stumble slightly as he tries to go over the top on a special day like this. he keeps a cool demeanor, but he can't help but feel so anxious and his chest tighten with worry. he melts as soon as you simply place your hand on his and tell him how much you like it.
jade leech
he is unused to human customs, so with holidays like this it makes him curious more than anything. hearing you talk about it in anyway is instantly taken note of. he keeps interest as if he wants to know more about traditions on land but it's so he can figure out more of what you'd like or what you'd want. either way, jade knows how to do his best to make you happy - he'd be shamelessly a little over the top for occasions such as these. though, he'd treat you similarly as azul would, he's just smoother hehe.
kalim al-asim
oh kalim is overjoyed for this day, it's even more of an excuse to completely spoil you with anything you want. he can't just choose one thing, it's obviously going to be multiples, clothes, treats, flowers, accessories- if you wanted an elephant, you could probably get that as well. you may have to tell him to calm down, he cant help but get so excited. also, he will literally adore anything you give him. it could be simply a letter with some flowers, he'd be swooning. feeling so special, he can't believe he has the privilege to be yours.
jamil viper
he's definitely tamer than kalim, but the simple yet sweet affections and gifts he has for you are very personalized and loving. he wants it to be a very special and private setting- he hates interruptions and only just wants his time with you. if you happen to get him anything as well, he'll be flattered and try to hide his face with his hood slightly, saying it wasn't necessary for you to do that. he loves it though. you can get a softer jamil out of this day, especially in the late-night hours when he can be more open.
vil schoenheit
vil... would be able to gift you the best brands of whatever you want,,, like multiple colors and sizes too. it's whatever you'd like with him. he chuckles and adores the look on your face with what he's given you. but on the more personal note, he will give you the prettiest flowers along with a (long) written letter by him. he believes that's the best way for him to express how he feels towards it. vil loves anything you'd gift him; he loves personal things more than anything though. he'd gently place his hands on your cheeks and kiss you on the face a few times before reaching your lips, telling you how much he loves it.
rook hunt
he finds this holiday to be so beautiful, he loves it and doesn't quite understand anyone's lack of interest for it. he finds love so alluring and the idea of it all is so perfect to him. of course, he'd endlessly shower you in attention and very personalized poems, art, gifts and more as he can't just choose one thing to express his love for you. he is an intense, he is constantly thinking of ways he could show you, his affections. in all honesty, him on this day feels no different than any other because of how passionate he is about these kinds of things.
idia shroud
oh he hated this holiday, thought it was mushy and gross, just a consumerism kind of scheme.... then fell victim to that when he fell in love with you. so now here he is anxiously going off and rambling to ortho about ideas he has on what he can do for you. he is so nervous but idia knows you so well. i'd think he'd be the type to get you some sort of basket of goodies and stuff that he thinks (or hopes) that you would love, also a few things he may have even made and created himself, designed just for you. he'd bounce his leg and bite his lip with a nervous grin as he watches you look at all he put together for you for your gift. he then goes on and kinda explains everything he got you- the ends of his hair turn pink when you kiss him and thank him. he feels so proud of himself.
malleus draconia
he has an idea on what the holiday is... it certainly intrigued him when he first started learning about it. as this is traditions he is not quite used to. he'd definitely notice the way you seem to be excited or talk about it to him, malleus would go to lilia as well since that old fae may have a better understanding of it than him. to which, he suggests all the classic and traditional gifts for malleus to give. as soon as he realizes the great deal of giving things during this holiday, he gets ahead of himself by finding something he wants to impress and see you with. like a ring, prettily adorned in some rare and exquisite gem. he'd have a gentle smile on his face as he presents it to you along with the other things lilia had recommended. if you're happy he is happy.
lilia vanrouge
he finds this holiday oh so endearing and sweet. he is happy he finally gets to participate in it with you. he'll go out of his way to treat you so carefully and sweet- albeit old fashioned if you will, but that's normal lilia honestly. he had originally wanted to make you dinner himself but when he told silver, his son seemed to have insisted on having him do that instead. he found that to be so kind, lilia was pleased he would have some more time and attention focused on you anyway. the flowers he got for you a deep and dark color but like riddle, he removes the thorns!
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gallawitchxx · 2 years ago
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🖤 barber!mickey & (not so) shaggy!ian 🖤
here's the 38th installment for this week's @galladrabbles prompt: comfort by @mikhailoisbaby
catch up/read in full HERE -- updates weekly! [ read scenes one & two in their entirety ON AO3 ]
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Ian laughs, the resonance of which is warm in Mickey’s body, rippling out through his chest and into his extremities. Mickey knows he’s giving the guy a bit of whiplash—his unique brand of crass and caring tumbling out in an awkward and impromptu fashion—but Ian seems to be rolling with the proverbial punches just fine.
“A whole lot more than just my taste in tacos, Mick,” he says.
For as much comfort lies in the nickname, Mickey realizes that it’s a warning. A flare gun bursting through a pitch-dark sky; red numbers counting down to something unimaginable.
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asapeveryday · 6 months ago
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YOU BELONG TO SOMEBODY ELSE
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Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader
Warnings: smut, cheating (not on reader tho!!)
Summary: having a crush on someone who’s taken is complicated. Doesn’t stop you though! (I’m sorry)
A/n: was gonna be a Paige fic buttttt I’m in a Nika mood. ALSO PLS DONT HATE ME FOR THIS. It’s based off of a request +this song, I thought the concept was entertaining. I love Nika and her bf. This is fiction. Pls chill on me.
HER BREATH, harsh against your neck as she presses herself against you is enough to make your head spin.
She’s leaning half her weight on you, laughing against your skin at how you stiffen up. To Nika, it’s probably because she’s gross and sweaty. She doesn’t know it’s more because her touch prompts you to think thoughts you can’t shouldn’t think of her.
“You’re slow today.” She says cheerfully. “Don’t tell me you’re slacking now, baby.”
You almost shudder at the pet name but recollect yourself. “Since you’re so pumped up you shouldn’t need my support.” You scoff, playfully shoving the Croatian girl off of you. She fakes a stumble but gracefully catches herself.
“Careful! If I get hurt then you’re gonna hear from Geno.” She smiles.
You just shake your head, grinning to yourself. “Your bitching and moaning is ten times worse than the old man.”
The two of you walk around for a while. This was your usual routine, running your favourite trail twice a week, then walking for a bit before grabbing a bite to eat. Routine or not, it also happened to be your favourite part of the week.
Why wouldn’t it be? Seeing Nika like this; tight shorts stopping mid thigh, sports bra exposing her toned body and flashy belly piercing, hair pulled into a tight ponytail, giving you perfect access to the beauty that is her face.
Running with her meant being able to look at her without others around to notice, it meant listening to her breathing quicken and slow, or holding your own breath when she’d slightly pull up the edge of her shorts to examine the accumulating colour on her already tan skin.
To say you had a crush was an understatement.
“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “when’s your next game?”
Did you know when the next game was? Of course. You knew when all her games were.
“Day after tomorrow.” She grins, tilting her head signalling you to prepare for a question. “Am I gonna see you at this one?”
“Nika..” you force out a sigh. “Such bad timing. I have a thing.”
She raises her perfectly shaped eyebrow now, the look in itself is not alien to you yet still incites a drop in your stomach. You hate disappointing her time after time.
“Seriously? How do you manage to have a thing every single time I have a game?”
You shrug. “I’m sorry, Niks.” You frown, not lying. “I wish I could go,” again, not lying “but stuff just keeps coming up.” ok, now you’re lying.
She doesn’t say anything, just eyes you suspiciously.
“I might be free after though.” You sneak in hopefully.
“Fuck yeah!” She squeals, slapping your back. “Cus’ when we win imma need you right next to me partying.”
You smile at her hand on you, at her happiness with your presence.
“Wanna go eat now?” You ask. “I’m starving.”
A car pulls up by the curb the two of you walk through and lets out a slight honk.
Now Nika’s face scrunches up. “Oh (Name), totally my bad, I forgot to tell you I’m going out to eat with my man today.”
Fuck your man. “Thats okay Niks.” You say. “All good.”
“It’s alright anyways. I’ll be seeing you Friday night after we win, and hey, at least try to watch the game online!”
And with that you watch her scurry off towards the passenger seat and happily jump in, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek and buckling her seatbelt. Her boyfriend waves at you slightly, aware of your friendship with Nika but not so aware of your infatuation. You want to scowl, but you force a smile.
You’re there standing, watching as the car pulls away and starts on the road. You don’t miss how Nika turns around to hold your eye until the car fades out of your vision.
-
You don’t know how much longer you can do this.
How much longer can you go on with this? With overthinking every lingering touch, restraining yourself at the sound of her voice, finding ways to run into her, knowing her schedule, being there for her wins and losses, wishing ill on her perfectly boring friendly boyfriend.
With every stride of her muscular legs beside yours, matching your pace, synchronized breathing, eyes meeting each other on perfect timing every time, you refuse to miss how she begs for your presence at important events. She refuses to miss how you freeze at the sheer mention of her partner.
She’s moody when you arrive at the bar. It’s different from the usual post-game celebration spot, less frat-like and more artsy. Warm lighting, hip hop blasting, decor littered fittingly with NBA and WBNA players.
You can see her clearly, leaning against the bar with her arms crossed, her drink half full on the counter behind her. She smiles when Paige shoves her playfully, but it fades as soon as the blonde turns her back.
You swallow the thought that she’s like that because she thinks you’re not gonna show. You know if you encourage things like that, it’ll only get ahead of your better judgment.
That being said, you were sure to dress exactly how she likes sexy. Hair done with intricacy that almost warranted a breakdown, makeup natural and with intention, clothing showing off how hard you’ve worked on those long runs. The way her lips slightly part at the sight of you is enough to short circuit your brain.
Ignoring how her friends seem to share looks at your presence, you slide up beside her as smoothly as possible before taking a sip of her drink.
“Good game.” You smile.
“You watched it?”
“I always do.”
“Yet you never come.” She scoffs.
“I can’t.” You say through gritted teeth, and it’s the truth. If you saw her play in real life it’d only make you want her more. “But I’m here now.”
You bump shoulders with her. “I’m here to celebrate my Nika.”
“Your Nika, huh.” She turns to you, lips turning upwards into a dangerous smirk.
Before you can respond, Paige is beside you. Her cheeks are unnaturally pink and she’s laughing up a storm that only screams intoxication. “Last I heard this was a team celebration.” She grins. “We love you and all, but why’re you here?”
You’re embarrassed and unsure what to say, but Nika immediately speaks up.
“Cus’ I want her here.” She quips, not too hostile but still enough to get the message across. With her quick words and beautifully furrowed brows she’s practically written BACK OFF in sharpie on Paige’s forehead.
“Aight, aight.” Paige chuckles, hands raised in surrender. Her teammates just shake their heads, and soon enough everyone disperses.
Getting drunk with Nika was a rare but amazing once in a while occurrence. She was not the type to be irresponsible, but the two of you were approaching a dangerous zone after an hour or so of talking and drinking. She couldn’t get a word out without laughing, and you couldn’t stop bouncing your leg to distract yourself from pouncing on her right then and there in front of all the other college kids.
“Have you ever thought of cheating?” She finally manages to hack out between giggles. You’re in a daze at the question, it’s too much to handle combined with her flushed face and batting eyelashes.
“Cheating…like on my partner.”
“Pfft, yes, who the fuck else?” She throws her head back. “Have you even dated? I never see you with anyone.”
“I’ve dated.” You say curtly, downing your drink and ordering another. “My last girlfriend was five months ago.”
“You had a girlfriend when we met?” She asks, eyes wide.
“I did.” You scoff. “We broke up, hic, like a couple weeks after you and me started running.”
“Huh, weird timing.” She mumbles. Your heart literally skips a beat, and you almost choke on your own spit.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing, nothing.” She rushes, waving her hand dismissively. A beat of silence passes between you and her.
“I have thought of it.” You sigh. “Of cheating, I mean. It’s kinda why I broke it off with the last girl. I felt bad.”
“You’re better then me.” She grumbles, rubbing her forehead.
“Oh?” You smile teasingly, leaning into her slightly. “Trouble in paradise?”
“He’s great.” She says, the words a frantic mess leaving her mouth. “He treats me good. I just have….” She says, trailing off.
“I just have doubts about him. And interests in someone else.” Nika exhales, lips attaching to the rim of her drink and eyes flitting to yours. She’s saying something to you with her expressions alone, dissecting her words was a whole other job.
“And does this person share your interest?” You mumble, shifting in your seat.
“I dunno.” She shrugs. “I see em’ a lot. She looks at me like she’s interested, but she doesn’t get too close.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Nah, she doesn’t.” Nika shakes her head ever so slightly. “I’ve tried to get her with me more. Y’know, good seats at my games, drinks with my friends. She’s always busy.”
You can’t help but shudder at how she licks her lips in between words as her eyes search your face for any sort of reaction.
“Maybe she’s thrown off by that boyfriend of yours.”
“Do you think if she knew the boyfriend wouldn’t stop me, she’d still give it a chance?” Nika says slyly,
“Hm.” You say, legs pressing together. You can feel your pulse in your pussy and it’s getting hard to ignore. You consider your options before settling with “with a grand gesture to prove it, I don’t see why not.”
“Grand gesture, huh.” She leans into you, her lips just grazing your ear. “I might have something in mind.”
And with that, you’re on your feet and being led by hand through what feels like masses of people. You almost stumble at one point, head slightly spinning from the alcohol in your system and the speed she’s pulling you, but she doesn’t stop. There’s a twinkle in her eye that excites you to your core.
You’re embarrassed immediately when you enter the washroom and there are two girls by the sink touching up their makeup. You and Nika stand by the door excruciatingly awkwardly, her hand tight around yours.
The girls notice the shift in the air, or perhaps it’s Nika’s hazel eyes shooting a glare only opposing teams usually see that causes them to exchange a knowing look and leave as swiftly as the two of you came in.
In an instant her lips are on yours. You find yourself wishing you weren’t so drunk, you’ve only been fantasizing about this kiss for the five months you’ve known her and the three months prior you noticed her around campus. Despite the speed you hope to remember every breath in excruciatingly slow detail.
It’s a rush so aggressive you wonder if she’s making up for lost time. Your back hits the wall for a moment before you’re hoisted up onto the sink. When you let out a gasp she finds opportunity to meet your tongue with her own, deepening the kiss.
“Do you actually want me?” You whisper between kisses, feeling her brows furrow at your question. “Or is this just something to get back at your little boyfriend.”
“Don’t even start.” She snaps, pulling away from you ever so slightly. Her calloused hands are firmly planted on your hips, and her lips are hovering just above yours. It’s impossible to for you to hold any eye contact at this proximity, but she doesn’t struggle at all. “Why d’you think I always want you with me to celebrate n’ not him?”
You just shrug, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you now.
She places a chaste kiss on your lips, different from the ones before. “I’ve never asked him to come with me to a bar with the girls. I’ve never asked anyone who isn’t on the team except for you.”
Now her kisses are trailing down your neck, she’s licking spots softly before sucking on the supple skin so tenderly, unmatched compared to the earlier feverish pace. “I’ve literally been begging you to come to my games, babe, begging.”
Now you scoff. “Are you serious? Do you think that makes it obvious you want me?” You say, attempting to keep a steady voice though it’s so hard when she’s nipping at you and tainting your skin purple and pink with lovebites.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, her breath now warm between your thighs. “Can I make it up to you?”
You stare at her, pouting. You want to say no so badly, you want to push her away and tell her she’s awful for this, but you know you’re no better. You know your touches linger too long on her back, you know the way you think about her makes you just as guilty, which is why when you see her begging between your legs there’s no possible answer you could give other then yes.
And with the utter of your approval Nika is diving headfirst into the current you’ve both been swimming to avoid, her skilled hands holding your skimpy underwear to the side as her lips plant kisses near and on your pussy. You open your legs wider for her, and to thank you her tongue swirls manipulatively around your clit.
The bathroom is starting to blur through your vision, throwing one hand over your mouth to stifle too-loud-sighs while the other hand grasps Nika’s brown hair.
With every huff, whine and jolt she sends through your body you feel a growing sensation in your core. The brunette girl laps at your folds, sucking on your clit while her fingers tease your entrance. The combination of her fingers and mouth turn your sighs to whines and quiet cries of her name.
“See how sorry I am?” She mumbles between your legs. “So, so sorry baby. I shouldn’t be playing with you like that and assuming you know what I want.” Nika smiles, every word spoken sending shivers down your spine.
“S’okay.” You exhale. “Don’t stop.”
Once her fingers find the perfect pace she rises to meet your lips. Her kisses are passionate and messy, you couldn’t care in the slightest though. With every bite of your lip and curl of her finger you feel closer and closer to the edge.
“You close?” She whispers, and you nod timidly in response. Nika gives you the sweetest smile as she pumps in and out of you, your breathing is frantic and somehow in sync with hers. You think about how many times you’ve been so synchronized, but never like this. She bares a triumphant look, maintaining eye contact when you climax all over her fingers. Nika presses sweet kisses to your lips and you bask in the realization of what has just happened.
For a moment, just a moment, you forget she belongs to somebody else, because in this moment she is yours.
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