#p.s. i live for that fluffy shit

[midastouch013]

"Find Me Attractive Again"

Based on this request

Summary: You had a wonderful girlfriend, and so what happens when you discover she has an eating disorder

Warnings: Eating disorder, Hurt Nat, Sad Nat, Neglecting Y/n. Panic Attacks. Purging, throwing up. Major hurt/comfort, from both sides.

P.S I wasn't really satisfied with the ending, so I apologise. I also took my own spin on it since it was kind vague, so I hope you like it'.

P.S.S And also, after such heavy fics, I'd really like for someone to drop me a fluffy one, Not just Nat, any Marvel woman please.

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It was a typical summer day in New York City when your paths first crossed. You, wrapped up in the chaos of your medical residency, were rushing through the streets, white coat flapping behind you like a superhero’s cape, while Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, was navigating the crowds with the ease of someone who had seen it all.

It was at a street corner where fate decided to intervene, in the form of an iced coffee and a collision. Natasha, in her sleek elegance, accidentally bumped into you, sending her cold drink cascading down your front.

��Shit, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was a mix of genuine contrition and a hint of amusement.

You blinked, the cold seeping through your shirt, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. “Well, at least it’s a hot day,” you replied, trying to brush off the mess.

Natasha quickly handed you some napkins, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're a humour one I see"

"That I am" you grinned "I've also cost you your coffee"

Natasha went to open her mouth, but you spoke instead.

“Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you another drink?”

"But I'm the one who spilt mine on you?" her eyebrow raised as she questioned.

"And?"

"I should be the one buying for you?"

You're smile didn't falter " Where's the chivalry in that?"

And that was the start of it all. What began as a clumsy encounter turned into a friendship neither of you expected. Natasha’s charm, mixed with her trademark snark, drew you in like a moth to a flame. Soon, the two of you were spending your precious free time together, swapping stories over drinks or taking long walks through the city.

Despite her guarded nature, Natasha opened up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else. You became her confidante, her sanctuary in a world filled with chaos and danger. And in turn, you found solace in her presence, a respite from the relentless demands of your residency.

As your friendship deepened, so did your feelings for her. You found yourself falling for the enigmatic Avenger, captivated by her strength, her wit, and the vulnerability she only showed to you. And one day, gathering every ounce of courage you had, you asked her out on a date.

To your delight, Natasha said yes, her smile lighting up the room in a way you had never seen before. And just like that, your friendship blossomed into something more, a new chapter in both of your lives.

Now, as you walked hand in hand through the bustling streets of New York, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. With Natasha by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever challenges life threw your way.

Little did you know, however, that behind the redhead’s confident facade lay a secret she was desperate to keep hidden. An invisible battle she fought every day, one that threatened to consume her from within.

And so, all it would take for you to find out, as a plate of untouched food, and certain other stuff

---

The elevator door opened with a ding, admitting you into the familiar warmth of your shared home (Floor in the compound that Tony had so happily given) with Natasha. The faint scent of breakfast lingered in the air, a reminder of the meal you had meticulously prepared before your short 12-hour shift at the hospital.

But as you stepped further into the living space, your brow furrowed in confusion. The plate of food you had set out for Natasha sat untouched on the dining table, a solitary fork resting against the edge.

"Nat?" you called out, your voice echoing in the quiet apartment. There was no response, just the eerie stillness of an empty room.

Concern gnawed at the edges of your mind as you ventured further into the living space, scanning every corner for any sign of your elusive girlfriend. But Natasha was nowhere to be found.

However, before you could think what to do next, the sound of retching echoed through the apartment, sending a shiver of dread down your spine. Without a moment's hesitation, you bolted towards the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you flung open the door, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your stomach churn. There stood Natasha, hunched over the toilet, her face contorted in agony as she forced herself to purge.

Instinct took over as you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from her mouth. "Nat, stop," you urged, your voice laced with urgency and concern.

For a moment, she resisted, the muscles in her arm tense with the effort of her struggle. But slowly, reluctantly, she relented, allowing you to pry her fingers away from their self-destructive task.

The sight of her trembling form, tears glistening in her eyes, tore at your heartstrings like nothing else. You wanted to wrap her in your arms, to shield her from the demons that haunted her, but you knew that this was a battle she had to fight on her own terms.

Gently, you guided her away from the toilet, leading her to the sink where you wet a washcloth and pressed it against her clammy forehead. "It's okay, Nat," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within her.

As you helped Natasha up from the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, her silence weighed heavily in the air, a palpable barrier between you. You guided her to the bed, her movements sluggish and unsteady, and gently urged her to sit down while you prepared a bath.

With practiced efficiency, you filled the tub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to help soothe her frazzled nerves. But as you turned to help Natasha undress, you noticed the way she recoiled from your touch, her body tensing at the slightest contact.

Your heart ached at the sight, a pang of sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. You had always prided yourself on being there for Natasha, on offering her the unwavering support and love she so desperately needed. But now, faced with her silent withdrawal, you felt utterly helpless, like a bystander watching helplessly as a storm raged on the horizon.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped back, giving Natasha the space she seemed to need. You watched in silence as she rose from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, before making her way to the bathroom.

It was only then that you noticed the small click of the lock as she closed the door behind her, a barrier sealing her off from the outside world. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the walls Natasha had built around herself, walls that even you, with all your love and devotion, could not penetrate.

For a moment, you stood there in the empty room, the weight of Natasha's silence bearing down on you like a leaden cloak. But then, with a resolute shake of your head, you pushed aside your own doubts and fears, determined to stand by her side no matter what.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way to the bathroom door, your hand poised to knock. But at the last moment, you hesitated, the sound of running water and Natasha's soft sobs echoing through the wood.

But when the sound of retching pierced through the closed bathroom door, a surge of panic shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, you abandoned your plans to change and rushed back to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

With a swift motion, you twisted the doorknob, but to your dismay, it refused to budge. Locked. The realization sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through your veins, igniting a primal instinct to protect Natasha at all costs.

"Nat, open the door!" you called out, your voice tinged with desperation. But there was no response, just the sickening sound of her struggle echoing through the small space.

With a burst of adrenaline-fueled determination, you threw your weight against the door, the wood groaning in protest as it gave way beneath your force. For a moment, everything seemed to blur together in a haze of motion and sound, until finally, the door swung open with a resounding crash.

And there she was, hunched over the toilet once more, her body wracked with violent spasms as she forced herself to purge. Without hesitation, you rushed to her side, your hands reaching out to grasp hers and pull them away from their self-destructive task.

"Nat, please stop," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. But this time, there was no resistance, no struggle against your touch. Instead, Natasha collapsed against you, her tears mingling with the cool touch of your skin.

With a sense of resolve, you refused to leave Natasha alone in the bathroom this time. Instead, you stayed by her side, offering silent support as she struggled with the demons that haunted her.

As the water continued to run, filling the tub with warm, comforting steam, you gently guided Natasha towards it. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes cast downwards, before finally sinking into the water with a heavy sigh.

You stood by the tub, your presence a silent reassurance as Natasha submerged herself beneath the surface, her shoulders tense with the weight of her burdens. With a soft exhale, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into your palm before lathering it into her hair with gentle, soothing strokes.

"I won't look," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I promise."

Natasha remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of the bathroom. But you could sense the tension in her body, the invisible barriers she had erected to keep you at arm's length.

Undeterred, you continued to wash her hair, your fingers working through the tangles with practiced precision. With each stroke, you hoped to chip away at the walls she had built around herself, to offer her a glimpse of the love and acceptance that lay waiting on the other side.

But despite your best efforts, Natasha remained distant, her silence a heavy weight in the air between you. It was as if she had retreated into herself, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts and fears.

With a heavy heart, you finished washing her hair, rinsing away the suds with gentle care. Then, reaching for the washcloth, you began to bathe her body, moving with slow, deliberate motions as you washed away the stains of the outside world.

Gently, you lifted Natasha from the bathtub, her body feeling almost weightless in your arms. The sight of her frail form, bones protruding beneath the thin veil of her skin, sent a shiver of concern down your spine. It was a stark reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her body, a silent battle she fought day in and day out.

With tender care, you carried her back to the bed, laying her down with the utmost gentleness. You tucked the blankets around her, the soft fabric a comforting cocoon against the cold reality of her struggles.

As Natasha lay there, her eyes distant and unfocused, you made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of how to help her. You knew that she needed nourishment, both for her body and her soul, but convincing her to eat was a battle in itself.

With a determined resolve, you rummaged through the pantry, searching for something light and easy to stomach. Finally, you settled on a plate of sliced fruit, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to consume Natasha from within.

Returning to the bedroom, you found Natasha still lying there, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. Carefully, you placed the plate of fruit on the bedside table, hoping that the sight of it would stir something within her.

"Nat," you said softly, your voice a gentle reminder of your presence. "I brought you a snack. It's just some fruit. Would you like some?"

For a moment, there was no response, just the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest as she breathed in and out. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she reached out a trembling hand, fingers curling around a slice of apple.

You held your breath, watching intently as Natasha brought the fruit to her lips, her movements hesitant and uncertain. But then, with a small nod of encouragement from you, she took a tentative bite, the sweetness of the apple filling the air between you.

A sense of relief washed over you as you watched Natasha eat, each bite a small victory in the battle against her eating disorder.

As Natasha slowly nibbled on the fruit, you settled beside her on the bed, the familiar weight of her body a comforting anchor in the storm of uncertainty. With a soft click of the remote, you turned on the television, the familiar theme song of F.R.I.E.N.D.S filling the room with its nostalgic melody.

You glanced over at Natasha, her gaze fixed on the screen, her lips curved ever so slightly in the beginnings of a smile. It was a small victory, a glimmer of light in the darkness that threatened to consume her.

With a tender smile of your own, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against your side. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breath a soothing lullaby in the quiet of the night.

Together, you watched as the familiar antics of Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe unfolded on the screen before you. The laughter of the characters, the camaraderie of their friendships, served as a reminder of the bonds that held you and Natasha together, even in the darkest of times.

And as the episode came to an end, you turned to Natasha, the ghost of a smile still lingering on her lips. "Feeling a little better?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle caress against the silence of the room.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But then, with a small nod of her head, she leaned into your embrace, her body relaxing against yours.

It was a small victory, a flicker of hope in the midst of despair. But for now, in this moment of quiet intimacy, it was enough. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way. As you snuggled into Natasha, the fragile contours of her body pressed against yours, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With each delicate curve of her form, you could feel the sharp edges of her bones, a painful reminder of the toll her eating disorder had taken on her.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you held her close, the weight of her fragility pressing down on you like a leaden weight. "Why, Nat?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Natasha's unspoken pain hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, as your grip tightened around her, almost as if you were clinging to her for dear life, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I..." she began, her words faltering as if caught in the tangled web of her thoughts. But then, with a small shake of her head, she fell silent once more, the words hanging between you like an unspoken promise.

--

As you thought Natasha had drifted off to sleep, you reached for your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating the dimly lit room. With a deep breath, you dialed the number for the hospital, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to make a decision that would change everything.

"Hello, this is Dr. Y/l/n," you began, your voice steady despite the nerves that churned in the pit of your stomach. "I need to take the next month off."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a hesitant voice. "Dr. Y/l/n, are you sure? We're short-staffed as it is, and your patients—"

"I'm sure," you interrupted, your tone firm and unwavering. "I've already made up my mind."

The person on the other end of the line hesitated, clearly taken aback by your sudden decision. "But Dr. Y/l/n you're one of our top surgeons. We can't afford to lose you—"

"I understand that," you replied, your voice tinged with frustration. "But right now, I need to take care of someone who needs me more than anyone else."

There was a moment of silence as the gravity of your words hung heavy in the air between you. And then, with a resigned sigh, the person on the other end of the line relented, agreeing to grant you the time off on the condition that you'd go unpaid for the month.

As you ended the call, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that taking time off from the hospital was a risk, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was being there for Natasha when she needed you most.

But as you turned to check on her, you realized that she had been awake the whole time, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Natasha's voice cut through the silence of the room, her words heavy with emotion. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.

You met her gaze, the weight of her question hanging heavy in the air between you. Taking a deep breath, you reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering against her cheek.

"Because you needed me," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Because I love you, Natasha, and I would do anything for you."

Tears welled in Natasha's eyes as she listened to your words, her expression a mix of gratitude and disbelief. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. "For everything."

As Natasha's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft hum of the room's ventilation system. You could see the turmoil swirling behind her eyes, the weight of her burdens threatening to crush her beneath their weight.

"Why did you do that, Natasha?" you asked gently, your voice laced with concern. "Why do you hurt yourself like this?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her gaze drifting away from yours as she searched for the words to explain the unexplainable. "It's… it's complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Try me," you urged, your tone soft and understanding. "I want to understand, Natasha. I want to help you."

With a heavy sigh, Natasha began to speak, her words halting and uncertain at first, but gaining strength with each passing moment. "It's not just me," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "It's… it's the comments, the stares, the whispers behind my back."

Your heart ached as you listened to her words, the pain and anguish etched into every syllable. You knew all too well the harsh realities of the world Natasha inhabited, the constant scrutiny and judgment that followed her wherever she went.

"It's like… like I'm never good enough," Natasha continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I achieve, it's never enough. And the news, they… they only make it worse."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched Natasha unravel before you, the weight of her suffering a burden too heavy for her to bear alone. In that moment, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a burning indignation at the injustices Natasha had endured.

"And..." She trailed off

"And?" You pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to show that you were there for her. You could feel the ache in her voice, the raw vulnerability laid bare before you.

"I just... You," Natasha began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "You used to look at me with such... such longing. You'd initiate everything, your touch, your kisses... But lately, it's like you don't even see me anymore."

Your heart clenched at her words, unsure of what to do or say.

"I thought... I thought maybe it was because of how I looked," Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I worked out more, if I stopped eating, if I... if I purged, maybe you'd find me attractive again."

Your breath caught in your throat at her confession, the pain of her self-inflicted suffering tearing at your heartstrings. How could she think such a thing? How could she believe that her worth was tied to her appearance?

But you remained silent, allowing Natasha to speak, to purge the demons that haunted her soul. For in that moment, you realized that the only way to help her heal was to listen, to truly listen, without judgment or condemnation.

"I just wanted to be enough for you," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "But I was so wrong, wasn't I? I was so wrong."

And as she buried her face in her hands, her words seemed to sink in, making you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling away, leaving you adrift in a sea of guilt and self-loathing.

Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself away from Natasha, the weight of her words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You stumbled backward, your eyes wide with shock as you realized the role you had played in her pain.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own ragged breaths. " I did that"

Natasha's eyes widened in concern as she watched you retreat, her voice tinged with fear. "Y/n? Are you okay?"

But you couldn't answer, couldn't bring yourself to face her, not when the guilt threatened to suffocate you. You hated yourself in that moment, hated the way you had let work consume you, the way you had neglected the person you loved most in the world.

And then it hit you, a wave of overwhelming emotion crashing over you like a tsunami. You sank to the floor, your body racked with sobs as the weight of your own self-loathing bore down on you like a heavy burden.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the darkness, her words lost amidst the chaos of your own thoughts. But you could feel her presence beside you, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort and support.

But you couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the thought of her touching you, not when you were the reason she was in pain. So you pushed her away, stumbling to your feet and retreating further into the shadows.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice barely audible above the storm of your own despair. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to… I didn't know…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the words tumbled from your lips in a frantic mantra, each repetition a desperate plea for forgiveness. But the only one you blamed was yourself, your own self-loathing swallowing you whole.

Natasha's voice was a distant echo in the chaos of your mind, her words lost in the tumult of your own despair. But you could feel her presence beside you, a steady anchor in the storm.

But even as she reached out to comfort you, you recoiled from her touch, the weight of your guilt too heavy to bear. You felt betrayed by yourself, , the person who had allowed this to happen.

"I'm sorry," you choked out once more, your voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to…"

But the words fell flat, empty and hollow in the face of your own self-condemnation. And as you sank further into the darkness, the weight of your own despair threatening to consume you, you knew that there was no escape from the demons that haunted you.

"Y/n, listen to me," Natasha's voice was firm, cutting through the haze of panic that clouded your mind. "You need to breathe. Deep breaths, okay?"

You nodded, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of your racing heart.

"That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "Inhale... and exhale. You're okay, I've got you."

You focused on her words, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, allowing them to anchor you in the present moment.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/n," Natasha continued, her grip on your hand reassuringly firm. "I'm right here with you, and I'm not letting you go."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you clung to her, the weight of your own self-loathing threatening to crush you beneath its suffocating embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Natasha," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I didn't-"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle finger against your lips, her eyes soft with understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured.

With trembling hands, you grasped Natasha's palms in yours, feeling the warmth of her touch seeping into your skin like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Without a word, you pulled her into a tight embrace, needing to feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your chest.

"I love you, Tasha," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pressed kisses against her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, each touch a silent testament to the depth of your love for her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you murmured between kisses, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for making you feel unloved, for neglecting you when you needed me most. I promise, I'll do better. I'll be better for you, for us."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, her own tears mingling with yours as she buried her face against your chest. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And I forgive you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

---

Over the next few days, you devoted yourself wholeheartedly to supporting Natasha, determined to make amends for your past neglect. You woke up early to prepare nutritious meals for her, ensuring that she had the sustenance she needed to fuel her body and soul.

You gently guided her through each day, offering words of encouragement and reassurance whenever she needed them. You deleted all the news apps from her phone, shielding her from the harsh judgments and scrutiny of the outside world.

And when you learned of the agents who had dared to badmouth Natasha, you wasted no time in tracking them down and giving them a piece of your mind. With a fiery determination burning in your eyes, you confronted them head-on, refusing to let them tarnish Natasha's reputation any further.

"You have no idea what she's been through," you spat, your voice laced with righteous anger. "She's one of the strongest, most resilient people I know, and she deserves nothing but respect."

The agents cowered before you, their faces pale with guilt and shame. And as you walked away, leaving them to ponder the consequences of their actions, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you.

Every time you sensed Natasha spiraling, you were there, a steady anchor in her stormy sea. You showered her with kisses, peppering her face with affectionate gestures, a silent reminder of the love that enveloped her. Your touch was a constant presence, your fingers entwined with hers or softly tracing patterns on her skin, a tangible reassurance that you were there for her, always.

You made sure she had everything she needed, anticipating her wants before she even voiced them. Whether it was a warm meal or a comforting hug, you were always one step ahead, ready to offer her solace in her moments of need.

But even as you tended to her, Natasha noticed the turmoil brewing beneath your surface. Despite your smiles and jokes, she saw the shadows lurking in your eyes, the weight of your own struggles weighing heavily on your shoulders. And though you tried to hide it, she knew that your sleepless nights were spent wrestling with demons of your own.

---

As the time came for you to return to work after a month of devoted care for Natasha, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The thought of leaving her alone, vulnerable to the demons that had haunted her in the past, filled you with a gnawing anxiety.

You found yourself making up excuses, delaying your departure in a futile attempt to hold onto the precious moments you had shared together. But Natasha saw through your facade, her eyes searching yours for the truth that you were desperate to hide.

"Y/n, what's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm. "You've been acting strange lately, avoiding going back to work, making excuses to stay. Is something wrong?"

Your heart constricted at the concern in her voice, the weight of your own fears threatening to suffocate you. But you couldn't bring yourself to voice the truth, to admit to the depths of your own insecurities.

"I… I just don't want to leave you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid that if I go back to work, things will go back to how they were before. I'm afraid of losing you Tasha."

Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke, the vulnerability of your confession laying bare the depths of your fear. But Natasha's response was immediate, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, her warmth a comforting balm against the storm raging within you.

"Y/n, listen to me," she said, her voice steady and unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere. We've been through hell and back together, and I'm not about to let anything tear us apart."

With a heavy heart and a sense of resolve, you made the difficult decision to resign from your position, knowing that your place was by Natasha's side. As you prepared to leave, a fierce determination burned within you to make the most of the time you had left together.

With a hunger born of love and longing, you pulled Natasha into your arms, your lips seeking hers in a passionate kiss.

An so as you hold Natasha close, your heart overflowing with love and devotion, you feel the need to express the depths of your feelings to her.

"Nat," you begin, your voice soft and tender, "I need you to understand something. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever thought possible."

You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, savoring the warmth of her skin against your lips before continuing.

"I love you for who you are, not for your past or your appearance. Every part of you, every scar, every imperfection, it's all part of what makes you so incredibly beautiful to me."

Your fingers trace the contours of her face, your touch reverent and adoring.

"And I want you to know that my love for you will never waver. No matter what challenges we face, no matter what obstacles come our way, I will always be by your side, loving you with every beat of my heart."

Tears shimmer in Natasha's eyes as she listens to your words, her own heart swelling with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/n," she whispers, her voice choked with tears. "More than you'll ever know."

---------

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Mango (The Surprise, Part 13)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, innuendo, implied sex, periods, mostly just fluff, reader taking care of Emily because our girl deserves it Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Emily comes back from a hard week in the field and you treat her in all the ways you can possibly think of. Because she's baby girl and she deserves to be taken care of.

Week 23: The Mango

In both your personal and professional life, you were a wildly independent person. Self-sufficient, dedicated, proud of the work you did and how hard you’d worked to get where you were. You were nobody’s doormat, nobody’s housekeeper, nobody’s mom.

If anyone else you knew, especially men, asked you to cook for them or do their laundry or take care of them in any way, you would have been personally affronted. You would have said, “You’re a fucking grown-up, do it yourself. I’m not your mom.” And you’d mean it.

So it embarrassed you a bit that, with Emily, you acted like a full-blown ‘50s-style housewife and you loved it. Not all the time, of course. But enough of the time that you couldn’t just brush it off. Dinner on the table when she got home? Your pleasure. Packing her lunch? A joy. Doing the laundry and making sure she always had a second go-bag packed and ready in case there was a quick turnaround on cases? You lived for that shit, especially when you hid little notes in the pockets that said things like:

I love you (so does little mango)!

We miss you! <3!

So proud of you for saving lives and kicking criminal ass! P.S. It’s hot. ;)

The bottom line? You were down bad for Emily. You had been from the moment she’d asked you out and all the years since. But after you’d gotten pregnant, your roles had switched a bit. Emily had always taken care of you well, but in the last few months she'd taken over significantly more of the household tasks since you were often tired and achy. You ordered takeout more often than you cooked (Emily had tried, but after her third time setting off the fire alarm you’d said, “You know what, babe, why don’t we just order out?”).

You missed taking care of Emily. God knows, she wouldn’t let anybody else do it. So when she’d called you from the jet to let you know she was on her way home after a grueling week in the field–made even more grueling by the fact that she was on her period–you set out to treat Emily right. To treat her in all the ways you used to treat her before you got pregnant, in all the ways that Emily deserved to be treated and so rarely let herself be.

You had groceries delivered to make her favorite meal, and when the little Find My dot that was Emily showed up at Quantico and started making its way back to DC, you ran her a bath–water scalding so it’d be nice and hot when she came in, fragrant with lavender Epsom salts. You lit candles, turned the bathroom lights low, even put her favorite hoodie and sweatpants and a fluffy towel in the dryer so they’d be toasty and warm when she got out of the bath.

You started on dinner, playing Emily’s favorite Salah Ragab record on the turntable. The food processor growled as it worked overtime to blend a homemade hummus, complete with your secret ingredient: a splash of aquafaba. You chopped parsley and mint for fattoush, made a marinade for the chicken flavored with all the spices Emily loved so much from her childhood years in Oman and Egypt, sumac and cardamom and coriander and all the others that you ordered online from a specialty Middle Eastern spice seller.

Your oven shawarma wasn’t as good as shawarma from a spit in Cairo, but it was about as close as you could get at home, and Emily loved it. And you made a damn good fattoush and hummus. You sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, whipped together a quick yogurt sauce.

You’d just put the chicken and veggies in the oven and were starting on the cream cheese filling for the stuffed dates when you heard the door open and shut.

“In the kitchen!” you called, hands sticky from slicing the dates.

Emily looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes, her blazer rumpled from a long day of travel. But her face lit up when she saw you.

“Do I smell… shawarma?!” she asked, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your neck, her hands resting protectively over your baby bump.

“Mmhm.” You grinned, feeling Emily’s body melt into yours, the tension in her muscles already dissipating.

“What’s the occasion?” She turned you around, so she could lean her arms on your shoulders, running her fingers through your hair.

You shrugged. “Can’t a girl just want to treat her wife?”

“She sure can.” Emily smiled and leaned in to press her lips softly to yours. You held your hands out at your sides so you wouldn’t be tempted to press them into Emily’s clothes or skin.

Emily pulled away, watching you lovingly as you sliced and mixed and stirred.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, lowering herself into a chair and wincing slightly.

“In the kitchen!?” You scoffed. “Absolutely not. There’s a bath ready for you, so go relax for a bit.”

Her eyes brightened. “Aw, honey. That’s so sweet of you.” She grabbed your hips again, once again turning you away from the counter so she could press you against it in a hungry kiss.

You giggled and swatted at her with a dish towel. “Go before the water gets cold!”

“Care to join?” she asked suggestively, pulling lightly at the waistband of your shorts.

You smirked, gently grasping her fingers and moving them away. “I have to finish dessert.”

Emily walked toward the bathroom like a scolded puppy, looking back with big eyes. “I can think of something else I’d rather have for dessert,” she commented, eyebrows raised.

You waved her off, blushing furiously. “Get out of here, you dork! Go take your bath!”

“I thought we were treating me tonight!” Emily called from the bathroom.

“That’s an after-dinner treat, honey,” you yelled back. “I’ve got shit to do first.”

“Fine! But I’m gonna hold you to that!”

You shook your head, grinning, as you spooned cream cheese filling into the halved dates, pressing them into a mixture of crushed pistachios and rose petals. God, you loved your wife.

When the dates were plated, the bulgur in the fattoush soaked through, the pita warmed, and the chicken covered in foil and resting on the counter, you washed your hands and went to find Emily, grabbing her comfy clothes and towel from the dryer.

You heart surged when you found her still in the tub, eyes closed, face relaxed. This is what your girl deserved. You leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“You alright, honey?” you asked, trying to squat down next to the tub, but ending up on your knees thanks to the baby.

She hummed in affirmation, keeping her eyes closed. “Thank you so much for this, baby,” she mumbled quietly.

“Anytime, love.” You watched her for a few more minutes, then set the stack of warm clothes on the bathroom counter. “There’s a warm towel and some PJs here for you,” you said, struggling to get to your feet.

“You good?” Emily chuckled, watching you out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes.” When you finally managed to make it to your feet, you had beads of sweat on your forehead. It wasn’t even that your belly was that heavy yet, it was that it threw off your center of gravity and made moving from one position to another awkward. “Get dried off when you're ready,” you told her. “I’ll get dinner on the table.”

You were proud of the spread when you stood and surveyed it. Shawarma chicken straight from the oven, spiced and heavenly-smelling. Warm pita bread and a swirl of smooth, creamy hummus with just a bit of paprika and olive oil on top. A lovely, vibrant fattoush, sliced cucumbers, juicy tomatoes. A little plate of stuffed dates, popping with green and pink from the pistachios and rose petals.

Emily walked in, hair wet around her shoulders, blotching her sweatshirt. You pulled her chair out for her but, before she sat down, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. She smelled like lavender and fresh laundry, and you breathed her in, holding her close.

You could tell by the way she lingered there, by the way she breathed easier with her body pressed against yours, that Emily would need a lot of touch tonight. Not just in a sexual way, though Emily’s sex drive was always through the roof on her period. You could tell that tonight, Emily would let you hold her, that she’d curl herself around you tightly, possessively, as if to cover the most that she possibly could of your surface area.

In other words, she needed comfort. And she didn't get it from anyone else, not really. It had taken her a long time to even ask for it from you, to seek it out. So when she did, you were always more than happy to oblige. More than happy to hold clingy, sweet, needy Emily for as long as she needed.

She whined a bit when you pulled away, and you kissed her cheek, playing with her fingers.

“You’ve got to eat something, love. Then I promise I will not let you go for the rest of the night.”

She sat obediently, squeezing your hand, and piled her plate with all the things you’d made, eyes rolling back in her head when she swiped a finger through the hummus and put it in her mouth.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she gushed. “I swear your hummus tastes just like my friend Zainab’s mom’s from when I lived in Oman.”

“It’s the specialty spices,” you shrugged, taking a bite of pita with shawarma and veggies.

“No, I think it’s the special person making it,” Emily cheesed, beaming at you.

You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, you’re getting it tonight.”

“I certainly hope so.”

When your plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked safely into the fridge, you led Emily to the bedroom, pulling back the covers for her, tucking her in.

“You know these are just gonna get untucked, right?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Shh,” you scolded. “Let me take care of you.”

You crawled into bed next to Emily, drawing her body into yours, holding her gently as you pressed your lips to hers. She melted into the kiss, already breathless.

You brushed her hair out of her face, placing your hand gently on her lower stomach. “How are your cramps?” you asked. “You want any medicine or anything?”

“The only medicine I need is you,” she said, guiding your hand lower.

You chuckled. “Alright, Romeo. Calm down.” You lowered your face to her neck, planting kisses all across her shoulder and collarbone. “I told you I’d take care of you, and I will.”

Emily held your face gently in her hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Why are you so good to me?” she whispered.

You pecked her on the lips. “Because I love you. And you deserve good things.”

And with that, you started your long, slow journey across the topography of Emily’s body, ready and willing to give her every good thing you possibly could.

[pinkwright]

true colours | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

starboy set : chapter seven

pairing — panther!shuri x dj!y/n

trope — best friends 2 lovers

inspo — true colours by the weeknd

warnings —flirty!reader (she gets bitches yall!!) but she’s so soft w/ shuri, mentions of alcohol, soft like supaaa soft but cocky!shuri, confident!shuri, confident!reader, gets angsty for a bit but overall pretty soft n fluffy, fingering (reader receiving), possessive!shuri but subtle, soft dom!shuri, touchy!shuri, love as always, kissing, lots of biting action from shuri, noisy!reader, confessions, girlfriend kink (?), verbal kink, crying, reader has like diff ways of carrying herself depending on her mood but she’s only vulnerable n shit around shuri, shuri loves everything about reader don’t get it twisted incl. her diff personas, reader likes to pull away from emotions that make her vulnerable aka she’s avoidant lol.

a/n —i tried to keep the smut cutesy n lovey but idk how well i did… hope u like it anon ! <3 p.s if there’s errors its bc i could barely read it back without lowks cringing but we move !

⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @shurismainbxtch @verachii @rxcently @shuriszn @lppriceisright @motheroffae @naomis-daydream @vampzxi @marsolgy @mysticalmarss @abenomeiiii @6-noir @laurensmabel1 @vexoshuri @saintwrld @ilovelulu @sookiesookie @ziayamikaelson @sapphicvqmpires @locoforshuri @ventingfanfics @melanated-queens @cuddl3s4shur1 (some usernames wouldn't pick up so apologies if u wanted a tag n its not here </3)

ஜ

and i understand, baby girl, we all have a past, i'd much rather hear the truth come straight from you. so, if i love you; it'd be just for you.

shuri’s hand tenderly brushes up and down the expanse of your calf, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you relax further into the plush cotton pillows below you, eyes fluttering as you inhale the gentle scent of roses and cedar wood, her signature scent.

the atmosphere is calming, providing a gentle soothing caress to the restlessness you find only settles when it’s within her embrace, the warmth of her touch pushes your gaze to sweep the room – the cosy conversation pit mirrored the rest of shuri’s apartment by truly embodying her, a living spatial visual of her.

the space was tastefully designed, with warm tones complemented by minimal cool-toned decorative items and scattered with luscious plants, evocative artworks, and ritualistic carpets. the living space was a visual representation of shuri udaku – warm, gentle, overflowing with love and artistry that revived hibernating stars in unsuspecting gazes, and planted seeds of life in barren soils; embodying the sun that warmed the earth.

she was unaware of the depth of her influence, unaware of the unforgiving edges she eroded to make people, hardened by the cruelty of the world, delicate again. just like the space she resided in, she was a breath of fresh air, living proof of the existence of hope, but she was also an uncontrollable fire despite the tenderness; a dangerous, burning flame of courage and redemption.  

you heave out a deep breath, your eyes shutting almost painfully to attempt to alleviate your heavy heart from the pitiful weight of your despondency; she wasn’t even aware. the loss of hope, in itself, is a difficult emotion to tame, settling in the expansion of your ribcage and corrupting the pump of your lifeline, the housing vessel for dreams, with grief. that’s why you find that it was better this way, better to close off the dainty muscle before she can experience desolation like heartbreak; what is rehabilitation to preservation, truly?

“y/n?”

her voice cuts through your thoughts, halting the train of the self-preservation versus self-isolation argument your mind had begun to board and you open your eyes, blinking away the colourful spots in your vision as you allow yourself to gaze upon her. her eyebrows are scrunched in worry, her keen and dark eyes are trailing your tense figure, her hand squeezing the softness of your calf as her lips form a gentle pout, and you force your body to relax despite the intensity of emotions threatening to drag you into their depths.

“are you alright, s’thandwa?”

your lips part as the menacing ocean begins to recede, the emotional tide ebbing away at the sound of your salvation; their damnation, and you can breathe again, feeling as though you’ll be dragged into the depths of those attentive eyes instead, and as always accompanied with her presence, you feel as though you don’t mind drowning as long as it’s with her.

“i’m better now.”

the gentle smile that traces your lips, the caress of your undoubting words, calms the anxiety that had risen in shuri, the girl reaching her hand towards your own, sighing in contentment at the comfort brought forth by your hand settling in hers, her thumb affectionately swiping over your knuckles as she returns your sentiment.

you sit up from your laying position, shuri’s hand on your calf travelling with the movement until it settles on the outside skin of your thigh, your hips sliding along the couch to bring your torsos closer together, to quell your body’s craving for her intimacy in the only way that platonic boundaries allow.

shuri hums as the movement forces your legs to fall between her spread thighs, your body pressing against her side as your head dips to rest against the curve of her neck, arms stretching to wrap around her waist as you allow her scent to engulf you. the candles lightly burn on the table in the pit, the vintage player spinning the soft tune of the vinyl record around the room, and there’s nowhere else you would rather be.

“are you going to tell me what’s going on in your pretty head?”

the words are coated in the inquisitive curiosity that betrays shuri’s genius, and the sentiment makes your smile widen, your head shaking instinctually as you force yourself to lightly dodge the clear invitation for vulnerability. although you had been vulnerable with the royal countless times before, every time you let your carefully crafted persona slip, you find it harder to pull away from her embrace, and as a result the pit of your demise is dug deeper by nothing but your own hand.

“just thinking about my set last night.”

there’s a teasing lilt to your voice as the lie slips through, your chin lifting to rest on shuri’s shoulder as you gaze through the window opposite you, and the vast view kissed by the orange of the sun’s easy descent subconsciously pulls the night to the forefront of your mind.

the pink drink entering your peripheral vision has you slightly turning to trail your eyes along the arm outstretched towards you, the smirk on the girl’s pretty face causing one of your own to form as you wrap your fingers around the chilled glass, shooting a flirtatious wink as you set the beverage a little distance away from your sound desk.

“thanks, angel. here’s a song just for you because you’re so sweet to me.”

your voice is low and enticing as your gaze shifts to the board in front of you, manicured nails lifting to work your magic, your eyebrow raises in amusement when the girl practically vibrates in glee, an endearing squeal drowning under the bass of the beginning notes of your next track.

the club lit up in excitement as you fiddle with the keys, your hand lifting to wrap around your headset as you mix, your hips swaying as your lips wrap around the sensual lyrics, the gloss glittering under the strobe lights and you find yourself reaching that headspace where music is the only thing that runs through you, guiding your body in a way that had the club entranced.

a wide smirk is on your face as the crowd anticipates every bass drop along with you, your hands sliding the headset to rest around your neck as you find yourself entering a flirty dance with the crowd of intoxicated individuals, your lids dropping into a confident sultry gaze as you mix for your last track.

just as the bass drops and the mass of people lose themselves in the reverberating frequencies of the end of your set – arms are sliding around your shifting waist, warm hands pressing against the bare skin of your stomach to press your hips against their crotch and the cool of her rings against your skin makes you shiver, a sweet smile flashing from you as she pulls you away with her.

“shuri!” your voice is laced with giggles as she spins you around to grab your hands, guiding you with a cheeky smile on her face as she walks backwards to keep her gaze pinned to you, eyes swiping down your body as your hips swing against the taunting material.

the heat in her gaze makes your head spin and you avert your eyes from hers when you feel the cool breeze wisp against the heat of your skin, and shuri leans against the driver’s door of her sleek car pulling you against her, ensuring her eyes never leave your face.

her hands slide along your arms to bring them to rest around her neck as she pulls you into her embrace, her fingers pressing into the softness of the dip of your waist, her nose skimming along your neck as she exhales words into the air, tender words that caress your heated skin as her lips brand them into the organ, words you couldn’t find the strength to respond to.

“pretty girl, as much as i adore this colour of you, i’m eager to embrace the colour of you that shies beneath that complex palette of different facets of yourself; the one just for me.”

the blunt nails that scratch lightly against your skin snap you out of your daydream, your eyes flitting sheepishly from the window to meet shuri’s, the contemplative frown on her face makes your resolve break, and you find her calling forth your softening, your hand lifting to smooth the crease between her brows before dropping to her pout, placing your thumb on the corner of her lips to curl it into a stretchy smile.

“don’t like it when you’re not smiling.”

your voice is petulant and bordering on a whine and shuri finds it so endearing that her lips are twitching uncontrollably into a real smile, her head shaking as she chuckles, and her eyes are scrunching as she pushes into your space, her forehead coming to rest against yours. her laughs force a few light giggles out of your lips, your arms reaching to wrap around her shoulders as you try to shift closer to the source of your joy, your sounds wisping in the air, intertwining into the dance of two souls that find each other in every life.

shuri can’t resist the familiar urge when your fingers dig into her unruly curls to softly scratch against her scalp, so she’s lifting her hand to bring your free hand to your lap, playing with the fingers between your bodies. your hands were cold – they always were. shuri finds herself smiling when she stares at the choreography both of your hands dip into; her warmth vs your cool, her organised tattoos versus your chaotic tattoos, the instinctual way you let her guide you, the gentle relax of you into her grip – indescribable familiarity.

the small act was one shuri tried to avoid – how such a trivial action could evoke such a vicious reaction was beyond her scientific understanding; for every action there is a reaction – a physical phenomenon she could recite like mantra of hope her heart chanted to ensure her that you were within her reach, that the ocean she drowned in was bearable because it was for you.

but the law didn’t account for the imbalance between the actor and the reactor when it manifested within the boundaries of human ideology, how was it possible that she saw the oppositions between you and instead of taking it as that, a disruption in her human experience; the vessel she usually chose to ignore, saw your hard edges as tools to carve the raw edges of herself, gifts that would erode her into love but not just typical love – your image of love, the perfect embodiment to what you envision the unforgiving idea of love to look like, and vice versa.

“bast, i love you.”

if shuri hadn’t let the wave of her infatuation with you crest into the calm of the atmosphere and allowed it to fall as an uncontrollable spill of words and anxious emotions, she would’ve found the way you shot up comical, chuckled heartedly at the way your lips part on a loud gasp that echoes through her ears but she had, and the gut-wrenching twist of her stomach served as a more fitting response.

but like the damning, brittle spirit she was, hope pushed her to continue because despite the unsettling reaction, the little flickering flame of longing within her was still burning, still hoping and as a consequence, all she could think about was how much she needed you, how much her love for you carved through her restraints until it all but spilled from her lips.

at your silence, her head turns away from you, finding your gaze hard to hold so she settled for resting her head against the backrest of the couch. the hurried sentences jumble into a mess that your shock struggled to discern, but your heart caught on quickly, selfishly absorbing the words you didn’t think you were deserving of, and the muscle pumping in your chest, crawled its way up your throat, the canal tightening to control the overwhelming spread of emotion tingling through your limbs.

“loved you for so long, y/n.”

she exhales heavily, her eyes fluttering open as she gazes at the ceiling, “last night, when i described you as a colour palette, i meant that. you’re this bright array of colours, a spectrum of different personas and auras that are ever evolving and i can’t- i can't figure you out because of it. but i love it, bast, i love how complex and intricate you are in everything that you do and everything that you are, everything that you embody is true to yourself and your beliefs; its dauntingly admirable.”

her hand tightens its hold on you, squeezing your leg before she continues and her next words steal the breath from your lungs, “you’re everything i believe love to be, the final iteration of what everything celestial intended for love to be. i love you so deeply, s’thandwa. you breathe the air into my lungs, you spoke life over my barren grave and brought my buried soul back to life, you rid me of the burdens of my grievances in a way that provided me freedom that ceases to exist outside the world you’ve created for me, freedom this world could only conjure in the dreams its people use to escape its harsh reality.”

“my love for you made me ache, it made me hurt, it made me grow but, above all, it bathed me in a warmth bast herself couldn’t even begin to replicate.”

when shuri hears the choked sob that spills from your lips, she’s quickly sitting up to gather you in her arms, her words cutting off abruptly as she brings your legs to rest on either side of her hips and then she’s cradling you against her, holding the back of your head as she rocks you gently, careful in how she handles the only thing that keeps her racing heart, beating.

“shh, i’m sorry, my love, forgive me. i’m so sorry, baby.”

the words are whispered into your locs, the remorse coating them forces a sound of indignation to flow through your tear-filled hiccups, your arms wrapping aggressively around her neck to pull her towards you, and the grunt she lets out makes you smile lightly as you hold her against you for several moments, pulling back when the salty tears tracking your cheeks halt in their descent.

you trail your gaze intently across her face, your heart cracking at the pure desolation coating her delicate but strong features, your hands rise to cup her cheeks and your thumbs stroke the skin under her eyes, before leaning forward to brush your nose against hers, feeling the shaky exhale of her warm breath against your lips as you speak.

“you never could tell the difference between happy tears and sad tears.”

shuri can’t hide the shock from you, her jaw dropping as she gasps softly, her deep eyes widening ever so slightly, and the sight makes you laugh through your tears, the sound wet but joyful, lightly strumming the chords of the strings holding shuri and yourself to one another.

after the stunned girl seems to understand exactly what your words imply, there’s a blinding grin overtaking her face and your mind blanks on just how otherworldly she was; crafted with grace, and meticulous thought that served to prove the existence of celestial divinity, sewn together by the finest artisans the universe had to offer – she takes your breath away.

shuri’s giggling in drunken disbelief and you echo her, hearts pounding in unison, eager to escape the cages encasing them to interlace with the others; bond to complete the ideograph of affection – mirrors of one another, similar but inverted, the same with complementary differences. her hand curls around your nape to guide your foreheads together, inhaling deeply as she brushes her nose against yours.

“when i kiss you, s’thandwa, it means i’m unequivocally yours.”

she breathes the statement against your lips, your breath catching in your throat as she stares at your full lips with that unrivalled intensity, the notion of her words digging into the pit of your stomach as you hold your breath in anticipation, “no more of this dancing around each other because you would be mine too. do you want that, pretty girl, with me?”

her hands are firm in their grip, gently sliding across the heating skin of your thighs as she pins you with her gaze, you nod at her question and the familiar weight of craving is invading your touch, it forces your grip to dig into her shoulders, pressing your body against hers as you silently plead for her lips on yours. but as much as shuri basks in your barely suppressed desperation, she had to hear you say it, had to have you know exactly what allowing her to touch you entailed.

“talk to me, my love, you know how to use that pretty mouth.”

when a whimper slips through your lips, shuri’s mouth is twisting into a smirk, her hands squeezing your skin as she barely brushes her lips against yours, humming when the pleas slip into her awaiting mouth, and she’s bringing her hand to wrap around your throat, gently moulding her lips against yours, groaning at the way you fit perfectly against her.

your hands fist the material on her shoulders as a whine you let slip is swallowed by shuri’s soft lips, her salacious mouth coaxing a swell of sensations behind your chest that serve to stir a familiar warmth in your core, heat licking at the pulse between your legs.

“shuri… i-” you’re cutting yourself off with a whimper when her teeth sink into the pillow of your bottom lip, dragging it into her warm mouth with a hum, her hands greedily sliding up your loose shirt to feel the warm skin of your waist, and her touch makes you squirm, your thighs clenching on her lap as you gasp.

“what do you want, my love?”

her voice is taunting, and it makes your hips buck against her, your eyes shutting when her lips pull away from yours to let you breathe, pressing a few languid pecks between your needy gasps before sliding down to glide her swelling lips against your neck, sinking her teeth into the line of your pulse, coaxing the warm liquid to the surface of your skin.

your hands are frantic as they slide beneath the oversized silk shirt sitting on her strong shoulders, your nails dragging down her skin, and digging into the curling warm muscles of her back, a grunt pressing into your skin as shuri detaches her lips from you. your head spins as she pulls back to look at you, her blunt nails scratching against your waist as she sighs in restraint and you whine the words out, eager to have her touch you again.

“touch me. touch me, please, shuri, i need you.”

the sadistic part of shuri wants to drag you mercilessly to state specifics but her tenderness and desperation for you overpowers the desire, so she slides her fingers along the hem of your loose pants, her eyes gauging your reaction and humming in satisfaction when your hips buck up and you slip your prettily bruising bottom lip into your mouth.

your breath hitches as she slips her hand over your bare ass, squeezing the flesh before she’s barely brushing her fingers over your entrance, moaning at the sheer wetness that coats her fingers, your awaiting hole clenching viciously in anticipation, and the moan that slips passed your lips is filthy, needy, laced with desperation that makes shuri coo at you.

the thoughts in your mind are spinning at her soft, gentle coaxes, your hips stuttering when she slips her fingers into you, pumping through the soft velvet as her eyes bore into yours, your eyelashes fluttering as your hips cant against her ruthless fingers and you find yourself whimpering at the way she effortlessly tears you apart.

“been aching to love on you, angel, aching to claim this pretty pussy." she curls her fingers to press into your spot, your gasp getting her drunk on you and your pathetic little noises, "bast, you’re so needy baby, this cunt needed me just as bad, hm?” she tuts in faux sympathy.

“please. i need more, please, please.”

the air in your lungs is burning hot as your hips stutter, and the pump of your blood is reverberating through your ears, shuri’s deft in the way she works you, the way she wears you down until you’re putty in her hands. the girl lets out a dark chuckle, her lips moving to press against your open mouth as she slides her free hand down the front of your pants, the slim fingers pressing firm circles against your throbbing clit.

"you're so pretty like this, my love, look like a dream when you let me between these pretty legs."

the daze in your head build as you shut your eyes, your hips fighting between fucking back onto her fingers or pressing forward into the firm press against your bud. you gasp wetly into shuri’s mouth, the smirk on her lips intensifying as she brings her teeth to sink into your lips to make you see stars. the slight ache from her teeth on your lips paired with the way her hands are set to ruin you, makes the fire in your stomach burn violently, and you can feel your limbs begin to tremble atop her.

the sight makes shuri hum, before she releases your lip with a soft ‘pop’, “are you going to come, my love?” your pretty eyes shoot open to meet her dark ones, and at your frantic succession of nods, she’s shaking her head at you, laughing at the pathetic cry that flows through your lips at her denial.

“you gotta tell your girlfriend to make you come, baby.”

her words are cocky laced with a taunting depth that drowns your ability to think beyond her, think beyond your girlfriend, her eyebrow raises, and she grunts deeply when your aching pussy clenches around her fingers tightly, your hips stuttering dangerously as you force the words from your panting mouth, feeling the wash of obedience over your shaking figure, the precipice too close for even a sliver of hesistation.

“want my girlfriend to make me come, please, please.”

shuri lets out a dizzying sound at the confession, her cunt clenching as her hips buck up into you, her teeth cutting into your lip enough to draw blood, viscous liquid that has the panther moaning out as her pussy drips at the taste of you, the whimper of pain from your mouth, coaxing a growl from the predator.

and then she’s curling her fingers to drag heavily against the rough tender patch inside you, eager for you to come while she tastes that part of you on her tongue, her other hand harshly circles your sensitive clit before quickening her pace. a sob shoots from your throat, your nails digging into the back of her shoulders as she works you through your orgasm, speaking soft loving words to you, running her lips along your cheekbones, imprinting them into your skin.

“that’s my good fucking girl, coming so prettily for me.”

she’s kissing away the tears running down your cheeks, the buildup of the consuming emotions finding solace in the release brought out of you by your new lover; you dazedly blink up at her as she stares at you, her arms rubbing your quivering thighs in a soothing caress that prompts you to lean forward to lay a soft kiss against her nose, one that has her scoffing in fondness.

“you’re my girlfriend now, s’thandwa sam’. so, stop trying to keep me in the dark when you know i can truly see you, yeah?”

you stare at her intently before nodding shyly, once again, pressing your lips against hers, and the stars that burst behind your eyes and the colours, that paint the expression of your ever-changing being, sing that it’s okay to let your true colours show for her.

paint me a picture with your true colours, these are the confessions of a new lover. true colours, true colours.

ஜ

[roronoa-roro]

okay im the silly anon who asked abt req status 😞 and u shouldntve told me they were open 🙂

i see uve been posting some loverboy atsumu thingies and me personally. im eating that up… no hands, just smashing my mouth against the dish and all. so like my request will be some friends to lovers cheesy fluffy romance between msby tsumu and fem(gn is also okay, up to u) reader B(

i was thinking like maybe the reader could be one of those sports medicine physician whos familiar with the team or something but thats just me being self indulgent cuz im busting my skull open studyin in med school🦧 so like you could leave those things vague if im being too specific but yeah like u said i want an expressive loverboy atsumu CAUSE IVE BEEN SEEING TOO MANY ASSHOLE!CHEATER!HORRIBLE!ATSUMU FICS like DAMN what did that man do to you😭 ok sorry for the rant feel free to ignore this if its not a proper prompt bc im horrible at making requests <3

a/n: what da fack nonnie😱😱😱 pls let me wash ur eyes and brain cuz lover boy atsumu is the only atsumu that should legally exist no offense to toxic atsumu he kinda hot but he illegal so

p.s. it's been very long since this was in my drafts nonnie and I still feel like I rushed this a bit sobs ily<333

"You can stop laughing now." Atsumu huffs, cheeks puffed and tinted red with embarrassment.

You chortle some more at that, stomach already hurting with the way you were cackling moments ago. "You're a himbo, aren't you?" You ask midst snorts.

"A what?" He looks at you, like he's seriously offended.

"A himbo."

"Fuck, no." He scoffs, looking away. "It was just a slip of the tongue!"

You giggle, "Slip of the tongue doesn't explain you ordering chicken at Starbucks." It's true, Miya Atsumu, the blind date Rintaro set you up with is looking to seem a lot lot more interesting than you thought he would.

Atsumu takes a long sip of his drink, dramatically glaring at you. "Ya wanna know my first impression of ya?"

"Mhm," you nod, encouraging him to say it.

"Ya seem like a bully."

That makes you grin.

His glare intensifies at that. "Knew it. Ya like pulling legs, dontcha?"

"Only the legs of beach blond himbos." You send him a wink, truly enjoying teasing him.

"Hmpf. Such a shame yer a bully despite that pretty face." What he says dawns on him one second later. And it's comically obvious with the way he buries his face in his arms.

Oh you wouldn't let this slide in a million lives, "I'm pretty?" You tease.

"Yes." He huffs, "And you know it."

The way he says it so indignantly like a little boy makes you giggle even more. "Well, you're pretty too!" you state, sending him another wink.

Atsumu's ears turn red, "You could have said I'm handsome," he mutters, turning his gaze to the side.

"Mhmm, but I don't want to inflate your ego." you giggle, "You're adorable though, I'll give you that." It's good to give leeway to the poor guy now and then.

"Adorable?" he scoffs, "Don't make me laugh, I'm a beast in bed!" his chest puffs at his claim.

You have to bite your lips to hold back your laughter. How embarrassing is this man. "Bet you will moan if I were to call you a princess."

"What—" he chokes on his drink, face turning bright red as he hits his chest to alleviate the pain of the drink flowing into the wrong pipe. "You— you piece of shit." he screeches. "I'll definitely show you who will moan out loud."

You guffaw. This man tickled all your right spots. And you had a feeling he was a keeper. So why not give this blind date a second chance unlike your other blind dates?

Safe to say you never had another romantic interest for the rest of your life.

[wonryllis]

MOOT GAME : " put your moots and their biases in a prompt generator and rate them!! "

only if u want to ^^

、ㅤ🍓 ⋆ ࣪ 午 MOOTS IN PROMPT GENERATOR ᵎᵎ

that's such a creative game! loved doing this!! since this is an enblr account i've only done enha bias,, included everyone except those who have left or are inactive or whose bias i don't know. (p.s. @okwonyo this is the one i suspected was you :) ( MUTUALS )

@jaesvelvet ( cha )

jay. cuteee 8/10 and then taking pictures and getting sad when the cast comes off but really like drawing on cast is therapeutic.

sunghoon. that's straight up soft romance like ahhh 10/10 sucks for that friend to see y'all lovey dovey even in sleep but that's literally the purest thing everrrr

heeseung. now this is my thing, we're getting on to the real deal everything/10 can read this trope thousand times and still love love love it though cha it'll be pretty sad for you bae.

@hoes4hoseok ( piper ) & @heelvsted ( rin ) & @boyfhee ( caelin )

jay. this is crack, full of crack but this trope is saurrr good one of the best of all times and piper would probably elevate it even further obvious x obvious 11/10 we all love that don't we.

heeseung. oh my god rin you living in a f2l fanfic this is so good and cute and fluffy like 17/10 imagine lee heeseung cheering you up with his silly jokes and rizzless(full) attempts at flirting. if you ain't falling for him there's and then, then you are god's strongest soldier.

heeseung. this is 1000000/10 this is so unique, don't know if it's cael's cup of tea but it's definitely mine! crack and romance,,, next level of crack like imagine cael getting her enemies to lovers arc after becoming a ghost and scaring the daylights out of people, fun right?

@jangwonie ( fae ) & @atrirose ( seiu ) & @jungqkook ( aurora/haru )

jungwon. this is totally my type again, the sick in love would do anything to see you happy tolerate all your shit, find it adorable ... 99/10 those lovesick eyes that watch you tell the most unhinged thing and think of how much they love you and how cute you are and how much you mean to them. like okayyyyy that's love.

riki. so cute so cute so cute so cute,,, love/10 literally so good sei is living in her own yn world and we are all just side characters. and not to mention this is so riki too he'd definitely fight and then somehow be discovered by the one he has feelings for and they boom the awkward confession and kiss ahhhhh i'm in love with this prompt,, kinda manga vibes which i loveeee

heeseung. noooo this is the cutest yet saddest prompt everrrr,,, haruu babe im so sorry this had to be it buttt let's look at the cute and crack part only especially if you get scared and startled easily imagine him trying to talk to you not having shown himself yet and you just get scared and scream lmao 9/10 becuz i don't wanna see haru sad.

@enhalov ( muse ) & @okwonyo ( jiah/bambi )

jay. the perfect little yn moment straight out of "how to get your crush to notice you" 100000000/10 love love love thisss, museee you got such a banger prompt, so so so fanfic coded i can't stress enough on how perfect it is and how much you suit this!!!

sunoo. this is a kdrama moment! 7/10 because pda (i feel shy even witnessing it) but good for muse you're showing it off to everyone and that too on ny eve like imagine the fireworks finishing off and then sunoo goes for a kiss becuz now everyone's attention is off from fireworks.

jake. okay no why is this so jiah coded? bambi would definitely do this for jake like a million times yk reminding him how much he means to her and how much girlie loves him. "she needs to make sure jake is always aware of his importance in her life!" infinity/10 one of my favs.

@joomiu ( nat )

sunoo. cuteeee strangers to lovers starting on the train 7/10 falling asleep on someone's shoulder is such pure fluff. nat better seize the opportunity to bag sunoo up, you don't getting him laying his head on you everyday.

sunghoon. this is so classic but still so heart fluttering man 111/10 absolute cuteness. full of domestic vibes! i know for a fact nat would do this and then giggle over this for weekss,, i mean who wouldn't.

jungwon. this is thousand kisses nat vibes totally fits her vibes and can literally imagine this actually happening, nat fussing over the fogged up glasses and lovesick won staring at her with heart eyes omgggg gem/10

@heecyon ( bee/ally)

sunghoon. this is like a lifetime kinda love you gotta grab it while you have it 9/10 absolute domestic vibes yk a supporting partner who goes to all ends.

jake. this is cute, super cute, next they kisss. 6/10 because we hate getting sick

jay. another angsty one we here 1000/10 for my sad loving ass. the star-crossed illfated turned forever lovers we go. this gives the love, rosie vibes i cried my eyes out to that but that was some good emotional shit.

@heesbaby ( cinna ) & @ctrlemis ( art )

jay. classic and then they realise their feelings and fall in love. 15/10 cinna and her dream jay date?

sunoo. now this seems very unlikely,, it would be more like both of them screaming their lungs out but this is nevertheless super cute so 9/10

sunoo. this so gives art vibes. can really picture it all happening, sunoo all excited to match? and then there's art secretly loves it but no way is gonna show it on the outside and happily wear it to make sunoo and sunoo's mom happy. 9/10

[lovelyd0gg]

Chapter 3, "I think you know what that means.."

Heyy! Soo, because I don't have good ideas for other stories, I decided I want to start like (kinda---) book like of this story. Sooo enjoy and hope you like it<3

Summary: After your birthday, Eugene went back to Louisiana and you both haven't seen each other for a while. But one day, he invites you to fly over to Louisiana to meet his family! The story goes on from there<3

P.S: This doesn't count for Sunday story! I will be making a story tomorrow if I have time<33

Warnings: Fluffy<33, Angsty, surprisingly judgemental family members:(, some curse words, pushy parents.

(Y/N)= Your name

(Y/N/N)= Your nickname

It had been a couple months after your birthday, and you couldn't help but miss Eugene even more. He was all the way in Louisiana whilst you were in Europe. And it wasn't easy for him either. Waking up each morning, not having you in his arms, felt like shit. He missed you and craved your arms around him. He just couldn't help it! Well one day, his parents called him and told him that they were coming to visit him in Louisiana! So of course, he called you and asked if you wanted to come over and meet his parents! You obviously said yes, and immediately started to pack! But you couldn't help the feeling of nervousness wash over you, what if they didn't like you? Or you were a bad influence to Eugene? Oh never mind that! You're going to fly over to meet your boyfriends parents and see him again! Enough with the gloomy situations!

When you boarded the plane, you looked outside the window and smiled, you couldn't believe that you were about to see Eugene again.. You could practically feel his arms wrapped around you already! And you also felt excitement with nervousness to meet his parents! Maybe a little more exciting that nervous! You read a book on the plane, took a nap and did some other things while waiting. The flight felt like forever, but it was all gonna he worth it!

Once you landed at the airport you immediately got off the plane and started to walk to his place! It took you a couple minutes to figure out where it was, but eventually you got it and knocked on the door. And the door opened, to reveal the exact same handsome man you fell in love with.. "Ah..Cher, I'm so glad you made it.." He hugged you tightly and smiled. "Come, come. My parents are already here, waiting for you!" You smiled and followed him inside the house, you entered the living room and saw his mother and father! At first, they smiled at you, but when they looked you up and down, they had a more stern and more judgemental look on their faces. Eugene didn't seem to notice it but ushered you to sit on the chair, and you did. You sat politely and had a straight posture, and you weren't wearing anything revealing.

Soon after, his father spoke up. "So uh.. Young lady, what's your name?" You turned your head to him and smiled. "I'm (Y/N), Eugene's girlfriend.." His mother looked you up and down and then decided to speak up. "What are your intentions with my son?" You stopped and tilted your head slightly, what were your intentions with Eugene? What does she mean? "Well.. We are hoping to marry someday, maybe have a kid or two if we're ready for them, and just.. Live a happy and sweet life." That's when his mother scoffed and started to speak in a more harsher tone. "Why not have children already? You both are young and should he ready to mate by now." Eugene raised an eyebrow, he knew you weren't exactly fully comfortable with any sexual intentions just yet, especially after just dating him for almost a year. "Maman! tu ne peux pas dire ça ! Nous ne sommes pas encore ensemble depuis un an!" His mother looked at him sternly. "Non! Shh!" She shushed him to quiet down and looked at you again. You became uncomfortable and slowly started to feel ashamed, feeling that his mother was right.

You were just silent the whole time, all eyes were on you. But that's when his parents started speaking French, in a judgy tone, clearing talking behind your back. You didn't know French.

"Elle est trop mince.."

"Qu'est-ce qu'il trouve d'intéressant chez elle?"

"Elle a une mauvaise influence.."

It all reached to a climax and you broke down, standing up and rushing out of the room, running to Eugene's room, closing the door. Eugene turned to both his parents and went off.. "Maman! Papa! What the fuck is wrong with you both?! Do you have no common sense?!" He practically snapped at them and rushed to where you ran off. Knocking on the door gently.

"(Y/N/N) please open the door, mon amour.."

To his surprise you responded with a soft "It's open." He opened the door and closed it behind him, looking around the room then seeing you sitting against the wall, hugging your knees. He kneeled to your level and held your hand that was wrapped around your legs. "Don't listen to them, ma belle fille. You're perfect and I don't care what they say, nothing they say will change my mind on how I view you. Alright?" You sniffled and looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks.

"I should be pregnant by now.. They're right, I should be giving you three children already.."

"None of that, mon cœur. I don't care if you don't want children now, later, hell, ever. I love you and love you for you. Don't let them bring you down."

In a swift movement, you hugged him tightly, it caught him off guard but he hugged you back just as tight as you were hugging him.

"Je t'aime, chérie.."

"I love you too, Eugene.."

After he managed to calm you down, he kicked his parents out, he would deal with them later. When the day was coming to a close, he turned to you with a more happier expression.

"My love, I have a question.."

"Hm?"

"Do you want to stay with me in Louisiana? We can start our life here.. No distance relationship.. Us together here."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but what about the house you had in France?

"What about the house I have in France?"

"Nevermind that, we'll figure it out later. Just please, stay with me, I can't go another day without you in my arms.."

He took your hands in his gently and smiled, his eyes pleading for you to stay, you thought for a little while and smiled right back.

"I'll stay.."

He couldn't believe it! He picked you up and spun you around in the air then hugging you.

"Oh (Y/N), tu fais de moi l'homme le plus heureux du monde!"

"What's that mean?"

"I think you know what that means.."

[skriblobz]

WORTH.

♡ — aventurine x ratio.

genre: fluffy wuffy tuffy >:33

warning: no warnings y'all, enjoy yo shit 🤟🏼

wc: 496

a/n: helloe!! this is actually my first time in a few months writing a fanfic again for funsies :33 i know it's short and looks almost stupid, but it shows how much unmotivated i was, but yet having the urge to do it, i hope you all enjoy tho!!!

p.s: kindly support me by liking/reblogging!! thank you <33

“you have to stop this, you damned gambler,” ratio muttered as his hands squeezed aventurine's shoulder tightly.

“don't you know how worried i get whenever you bet on your life like that?!”

the professor had always told the gambler the same thing, over and over and over again. and yet, the latter never listens. he would always brush it off by saying “i'm gonna be okay” or “all or nothing”, which makes ratio extremely pissed off and worried, knowing that aventurine would always be nothing but a reckless gambler all the time while making decisions.

and again, aventurine didn't listen.

aventurine waved his hand, denying ratio's concern for him with his usual smug smile on his face.

“oh come on, doctor. don't be such a party pooper. i mean, i'm safe now, am i right? i'm right in front of you. it's not like i've lost a bet before,” he explained, his voice tinged with such confidence. that made ratio snap.

the professor kept his grip on the other's shoulder as he stared into his eyes with rage, raising his voice slightly to show how upset he was at him.

“do you even understand how reckless you are?! you always bet on your life, as if you don't care about yourself at all! who do you think you are, aventurine?!”

aventurine's eyes bulged slightly as he heard ratio's booming voice that echoed throughout the room they shared, feeling ashamed, which was a rare occurrence from him as he looked away from ratio with a slight frown.

ratio, who eventually took notice of aventurine's expression, slowly began to calm down before tipping the gambler's chin up so that he could look into his eyes and admire him silently. for the professor himself to be this soft for someone was a rare sight, and aventurine was the exception amongst the others.

ratio sighed quietly while keeping eye contact, his hand slowly finding his way to the other's cheek, caressing it gently as he said his words in almost a whisper.

“look, i don't like it when you do this to yourself.. you need to stop doing these things,” his voice and look carried a hint of concern and worry for him. aventurine, on the other hand, didn't know what to do. all he did was frown and kept looking away in shame, but ratio always made sure he looked back.

“i told you more than once but you never listen! your life is as valuable as anyone's. you're worthy, kakavasha. i cherish you more than anything, so please, take my word and live for the best. for you and me. i can't risk losing you," he whispered, pulling aventurine into a gentle embrace.

aventurine's eyes then began to well up with tears before he embraced him back, burying his face into the crook of his neck, finally accepting the words that was told once more.

with a sniffle, he then managed to croak out,

“i'm sorry.. i'll do better and not be so reckless this time..”

[matchaelette]

GIF from pinterest

when your moods are swinging from the pilllars of hell but jeon jungkook is an angel sent from heaven

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, in short we get to see the fluffy pancake jungkook today and what an absolute angel he can be while ash is going through her monthly mood swings. the gif upstairs is the look we're going for in the last scene

genre: fluff, angst, does crappy writing count as a genre?

warning: period and mood swings. anyone going through it right now has my sympathies.

word count: 2.5k

notes: look who's back from the ded :D so today I accidentally broke this mug I bought three days ago, and I cried the entire morning cause we got attached okay??? and there was my mother, yelling at me about how careless I am and I just... wished someone would give me a hug. did someone give me a hug? no. but did I skip everything to spend an entire day writing? yes. enjoy.

p.s. she went out and got me the same mug again afterwards :/

“fuck!”, your loud voice echoes through the house, leaving a large trace of the irrecoverable panic you felt in the air as you stared expressionlessly at the floor.

“fuck”, the second wave of panic hits, this time with the fear and realization of what you have just done, “no no no no. no fuck—”

scattered pieces of broken items litter the floor in front of you. you may have accidentally dropped them from your hands while carrying them over to the sofa but you could’ve just thrown them from the tallest floor of a skyscraper and had the same effect. it was hard to make a sense of what they might have been before. a gray headset, splintered like eggshells. a game controller, all its colorful buttons scattered around like skittles. jungkook’s once favorite iPad— shards of screen once glass— disintegrated into dust.

no.

what have I done?

your legs give out and you crumble dramatically down on your knees into the floor. for a whole minute, you’re tempted to put the remnants of what you knew as jungkook’s “brand new gaming babies” back into the tv tray table, right where it was before. you wanted to fake innocence, a dozen excuses already flying through your brain.

they were already broken before I decided to clean it. are you sure you didn’t buy it like this, kook? you might have accidentally broken them while unpacking last night, you just didn’t notice it before. the neighbor’s child came over and she just—

“what the fuck?”, you whisper, heart bursting through your ribcage. it takes you a while to realize that the shock of the impact left you crying, tasting the salt on your tongue. you use your dirty hands to roughly wipe them off.

don’t fucking cry, you don’t deserve it, you bite your lips to stop a new wave of tears and wrap your arms around your shaking frame, you’re not a toddler, ash. stop crying and be a responsible adult for once.

maybe you could still fix them?

“what is wrong with me? why do I keep doing shit like this?”, you stammer, shaky hands reaching forward helplessly to grab pieces of the game controller in vain. it’s not fixable, you shake your head, letting a sob out unconsciously. no, because, how could you do this?

period is a bitch and it was sucking the living lights out of you.

you had no idea how you were gonna go through the rest of this week without evaporating into thin air, and it was only the second day. so, when jungkook appeared in your shared apartment that night with his hands full of white boxes wrapped in plastic sheets, hoping like an over-enthusiastic bunny, you sighed and quietly prayed for some well-needed strength.

“hi princess!”, he chirps pleasantly.

“hello kook”, you grin softly when he approaches you and pecks your lips. no matter how weary you were, none of it mattered when it came to being with the boy you were madly in love with. jungkook, oblivious to your exhaustion, grabs your hands and pulls you toward the living room. he drops everything on the carpeted tiles and leans back against the couch.

“tea?” you sit on the sofa, offering him your baby blue mug while he nuzzles his face against your leg. he breathes in the faint scent of lavender when you hold the mug close to his face and takes a satisfied gulp.

you can’t help but smile fondly as jungkook goes limp against your legs. you set the mug on the side table and pad your fingers through his messy hair, trying to disentangle the locks. he closes his eyes and leans onto your touch.

“looks like someone got their paycheck today”, you grin, pointing at the brand-new boxes of mystery.

jungkook, eyes still closed, breaks out into an impish smile, “remember those gaming equipment I was showing you a few nights ago?”

“you mean, that night you made me orgasm three times? and then immediately started showing me gaming items on your phone before you even cleaned me up?”, you say drily, “yes, I think I remember.”

“oh my god ssh! don’t talk about the beautiful moments in life with that attitude”, jungkook looks scandalized by your choice of words but handles it with practiced ease, “but yes! I just got those! my brand-new gaming babies!”

you laugh, “so i’ve got competition?”

“naur babe!”, his head falls in your lap and he widens his eyes with a pout, “now we can stay up and play all those games we wanted to! remember? you can obliterate all the zombies you want and I can make my pizzeria fantasies come true!”

“sure thing, babe”, you pat his head fondly, “did you have dinner?”

“I stopped by jiminie hyung’s place and we had ramen. did you eat? I can cook something.”

“I had a sandwich”, you lie. you don’t have an appetite and you don’t want jungkook to go inside the kitchen at this hour, “how about you play with your toys?”

and this is how the rest of the night goes. you keep your mood swings in check and in control, sitting on the couch and watching your adorable boyfriend. jungkook diligently reading the instruction manual. jungkook sprawled on the floor like a starfish. jungkook setting up all the gadgets around the tv set. jungkook finishing the rest of your lavender tea. jungkook carrying you to the bedroom when you unintentionally fall asleep.

“babe, is it absolutely necessary to do these toda-”, jungkook winces when he catches your eyes, “okay. i’ll keep my mouth shut.”

sunlight pools in on the floor you stand on, illuminating you in all your glory. you have your hair pulled back into a sleek bun, dressed like a soldier about to enter a battlefield, sporting a panty and one of jungkook’s old shirts. the weapons for this impending battle were the vacuum cleaner by your side and a bucket full of cleaning essentials— like scrubs, mops, liquid cleaners— stuff you weren’t even sure what they were called.

you woke up with an unbearable ache in your body this morning. pain blossomed from your neck down to your spine, erupting like a volcano in your core. you weren’t new to this feeling, but no matter how much you went through it every month, the pain still felt fresh and unworn. even so, you might’ve been okay, might’ve handled it as gracefully as possible. but seeing the bed beside you empty with faint traces of your boyfriend, made you insufferable throughout the morning.

after you picked yourself up and took a warm shower, you discovered your boyfriend yelling in the living room. he was parading about the room with his vr headsets on, swearing loudly at random players and blasting gunfire and depressing noises from the speakers.

you have been in a terrible mood ever since.

but the dam only broke when you both sat down to eat the strawberry pancakes jungkook made for breakfast.

“i’m gonna deep clean the entire house today”, you declared on the breakast table, pouring an inappropriate amount of strawberry syrup on your pancakes.

“you can’t even stand”, jungkook laughed, “okay, no, you can’t even sit straight.”

and that’s how it began.

after hours of I don’t wanna see your face, take your pancakes and leave! and babe, please forgive me, let me clean the house for you!, here you guys were, jungkook concerned as hell for your health and you being a stubborn, disobedient child. were you being petty and mean? yes. did you care? no.

“can I do anything?”, you could hear the desperation in his voice. menstruating always built an extra wall around you, you could sense how worried jungkook was for you, but you couldn’t understand it.

“no-pe. i’ll start with the living room. get out of my way.”

“okay. i’ll clean the tv and my gaming equipment after you’re done then.”

your eyes flashed with anger, “oh, so I am not allowed to touch your things?”

“wait, what? I never said that! it’s just—”, jungkook rushes in your direction, unsure if he should continue the sentence or not.

“it’s just what?”

“it’s just— okay, fine! you just seem way too angry! i’m concerned about you but i’m concerned about those too”, he gestured towards the tv tray, desperately trying not to piss you off, “babe, you can clean whatever you like! just— just calm down a bit before you clean our gadgets!”

wrong choice of words.

“calm down? you’re asking me to calm down?”, you shrieked, “you—”

“you might accidentally take your anger out on those poor little harmless things!”, impatience flashes in his eyes as he tries to reason with you.

“the only ‘thing’ I wanna take my anger out on right now is yo—”

“you know what? do whatever you want”, jungkook raises his hands in defeat, “i’ll go take a shower. consider me officially out of your way.”

jungkook was still in the shower.

you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes attempting to repair the things you broke with futile efforts. your hands had several cuts, and streaks of blood were now trickling onto the floor. it wasn’t like the objects were just snapped into two, it was all broken and ruined beyond repair. you couldn’t fix them. all you could do was face jungkook and tell him that you broke his beloved things, specifically after he told you not to touch them and you yelled at him.

if this was the universe’s way of punishing you, it was harsh. because it wasn’t only you who was punished. it was jungkook as well, and he did not deserve it.

no, what he deserves and needs to do asap, was move out and find a better girlfriend. you wouldn’t blame him.

“how could I do this? how could I just—”, your whisper was shaky as you stared blankly, “— casually drop everything from my hands?”

after the tantrum you threw, you’re not sure jungkook will believe you broke it accidentally. even you weren’t quite believing yourself right now. how could someone drop an armful of goods on the ground and they just implode? unintentionally?

it appeared highly intentional to you.

“but I swear—”, you sob, “I really didn’t mean to.”

a sound from the bedroom makes you jump up with alarm. it’s been more than an hour since jungkook entered the shower, and you’re scared he’s been there for such a long time only to stay out of your way and avoid your wrath.

you had to face him, didn’t you? you had to face him and explain what you had done. and then, when he decides to hate you for the rest of your life, you’re sure you’ll hate yourself more; and when he decides never to forgive you, you’re sure you’ll never forgive yourself either.

“shit”, you mumble, stumbling towards your bedroom with shaky legs. you wipe your tears on the sleeve of the shirt and take a deep breath to stop the sobs racking through your body.

you just have to tell him, you inhale, you just have to tell him and then you can fling yourself off the building, exhale, don’t you fucking cry. you’re not manipulating him with your tears.

jungkook doesn’t notice you when you enter the room. he is looking for a comfortable t-shirt, clothed only in his favorite pair of shorts, hair tousled with water. the entire room exuded his distinct scent of peach and baby soap. you take a moment, watching him put a black hoodie over his head before drawing his attention toward you.

“kook?”

he wheels around when he hears your voice, blank gaze evolving into a wide smile in a fraction of a second when he realizes it’s you.

“hi babe”, he takes confident strides towards you, “are you still mad at me? I promise I was just worried for—”

“kook”, you beg, panicking when his gaze fixes on your hands, “listen to me.”

“is that—”,jungkook’s eyes pop out, “—blood on your hands?!”

“kook, that’s not the point”, you choke out when he grabs your bloody hands, completely bewildered, “please listen—”

“why are you bleeding?!”

“jungkook, please! I— I accidentally broke the gaming stuff you got last night”, this time you can’t keep your tears at bay. you’re close to bawling as he looks at you, panic-stricken, gripping your hands and trying to make sense of what is happening.

“and non— not justthose—”, your sobs are now muddled with your sentences, and jungkook freezes when you finish, “I al- also broke your iPad. the screen— its ggone and i’m so so ssorry—”

you can’t keep your eyes open when you get a look at jungkook’s face. he stands there frozen, impassive, and motionless, holding your hands and staring at the mess of you.

“i’ll never forgive myself for what happened”, you breathe through your mouth, sniffing, “I swear I didn’t mean to—”

your words are cut off abruptly when jungkook pulls you in a hug.

“ssh, it’s okay”, he holds your head firmly with one hand while securing the other around your waist, “nobody died, it’s okay.”

it takes you a few seconds to comprehend what’s going on. when you do, you burst into more violent sobs this time, clutching jungkook’s shoulder wildly.

“hey. hey. it’s alright, okay?” he rocks your body from side to side, “it’s just a few things, princess. why are you crying like this?”

“hell, jungkook, don’t— don’t be so—”, you whimper against his chest, “don’t be so understanding! scream at me for fuck’s sake!”

“yes, I will”, he pries you away from himself, eyes full of concern and distress, “you. you idiot. you’re crying over a few things you broke? and you completely destroy your hands over that? are you nuts?!”

“you loved them. you were—”, you moan, “—so excited. and it was so expensive.”

“it’s just a few things, princess, not the end of the world!”, jungkook kisses the top of your head, “yes, I liked them. yes, some money’s been wasted. but is it worth more than you? hell no! look at you, you’re shaking—you’re absolutely terrified! why!?”

it takes a long time for jungkook to calm you down. he rocks your body in silence the whole time, resting his chin on the top of your head, gently rubbing your back in soothing circles, and urging you to breathe. you stay limp against his body; tired, upset, guilty.

“i’m so sorry”, you mumble after a while.

“it was just an accident. it’s really, really okay.”

“you’re way too forgiving”, you mutter against his chest, “I would’ve accidentally broken you if the roles were reversed.”

“you break me every time you cry anyways. now, let me see those hands?”

[intherainbowfactory]

Starry Knight (1)

[a/n just gonna post this cuz ;3]

[this was something I wrote over a span of like fourteen days in-between me English project and college apps and I sincerely hope you enjoye. don't be fooled: this is indeed a my little pony fanfiction, an isekai, in fact, but it doesnt show at first. also, the mc is my polar opposite]

[p.s. there's a reference to dC/dt ≠ 0 in here. it's a small one, but i love that story dearly and think you should check it out. rip]

I never even liked knights that much.

I was just a regular kid, y’know? Pretty boring kind of girl, into reading and motocross and not much else. I just spent my days living my mundane life. I’d spend not enough time hanging out with my friends and buying food and stupid shit at our one grocery store around our small town, I’d spend not enough time going to parties because there weren’t many, and I’d spend too much time obsessing over scholarships and college for after my senior year so I could finally escape the bullshit of small-town rural life and move to an actual big city.

Hey, I just wanted to be somewhere that would let me find someone to hang out with whenever I felt like it, without having to pimp my worryingly decreasing cash out to someone to have lunch with!

Well, anyway, the last day of that life came one summer afternoon. I was just walking around the streets, finding enjoyment from waving at the elderly who were driving past and who drove to my right to avoid possibly hitting me at all. Some stray dogs were wandering around in a pack, and I stopped to pet some of the friendly ones. At least they’re here for me, I had thought at the time, frustrated at how nobody would return my calls. 

A large, white, fluffy dog (just the sweetest thing…) was rolling around under my floofin’ fingers when suddenly, I heard the truncated barking of a known menacing pit-bull punctuated by the blood-curdling screams of a little kid. It was located behind me and across the street. I feared the worst. I sprinted across the street to save the kid—

When I was hit by a bus going thirty miles per hour.

My flesh registered the impact of metal in slow motion, time crawling to a stop as my brain wrecked itself trying to find a way out of this situation. My skull creaked and rolled back, being the first to hit the bus, before cracking and caving in on my brain with an audible squelch. I wasn’t lucky enough to die, however. With milliseconds feeling like minutes with how much adrenaline my brain was pumping, my arms slowly moved forward to gingerly touch the front of the bus before shattering into dust, my eyes showing me the horrified shriek of the bus driver forced to watch as my life gets torn from me while sitting passively inside the infernal machine that took my life.

The second-or-so that I was conscious for in this ordeal was the second that would define my entire death. As it was, the bus was torn away from my view as my head was thrown back to gaze upon the shining blue heavens, bright and glittering with the rays of the sun, my body feeling weightless in flight from the force of the impact, feeling lighter of all its earthly attachments in the type of loss that encompasses an unplanned, uncalled-for end.

I blinked, and abruptly the sky changed to a brilliant starry night right in front of my eyes. Such splendor, such ethereal quality—is that what a galaxy looks like without the light pollution receding it?—I have never seen such constellations in the sky! What a convoluted, almost planned design they had! The moon shining unnaturally brightly, fixed in eternity backdropped by the cosmos, was what really set me off. “I must have died,” I thought at the time with trembles running the entirety of my being. Disbelief wracked my being before sprinting past all the stages of grief towards acceptance. Nothing to do but accept the facts that I’m dead, even if it’s pretty strange that I’m dead, and I’m still conscious.

“I died,” I concluded with some confusion as the final chain of that logic attached itself inextricably along my mind. That confusion slowly turned to joy as I again noticed the sublime vision in front of me and looked upon the dark recesses of the terrible, wonderful infinity stretched out before me. Manic fervor filled my soul, an incredible sense of pride at the life I lived and the good I did even up to my final moments making me feel ten feet tall as exactly where I was dawned on me. 

Excitedly, I thought, “I died! Hell yeah! I died! Died died, died died, died-died-died-died died died!” I finished alongside a jaunty tune that started playing in my head with my mental song.

Of course, it was sad that I was dead, but that wasn’t what I was celebrating! I concluded my thoughts as such:

“I died and went to Heaven!” Take that, Susan! I always knew Hell was reserved for people like you! (And you said there was no way God would let me get near Heaven without smiting me like the whore you told everyone I was! Where’s your non-benevolent interpretation of God now, Susan?) 

Anyway, I feel like I got sidetracked. What was I saying? Oh, yeah!

“I died and went to Heaven!”

I tried dancing and whooping and laughing with joy, but I couldn’t feel my body. I felt such bliss that I might cry, but I couldn’t feel my face and my tear ducts ran dry. I tried to sing a song in tribute to the wondrous sight blessing my poor, dead soul… but I couldn’t move my mouth or my throat. I couldn’t turn my head to look around me, couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel anything under my body or feel the air or any forces acting on me. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t move my leg, neck, eyes, mouth, arms, ears—

“I really am dead,” I concluded (finally!) in my mind. “And now I’m in Heaven.” Non-physical shudder. “Now what happens?”

As it turned out, nothing really happened. That was fine for a time, though. I could take a couple more minutes of playing connect the dots with the stardust and quasars among the stars while I waited for something to collect me or for me to sprout wings and be able to fly away, and anyway, I was thankful to still have a consciousness to see this wonder in the afterlife.

After fifteen minutes, the glamour wore off and I was starting to get bored of scanning the same non-Earth constellations and non-Earth moon patterns over and over. “Is this all it is, just looking at the stars forever?” I asked myself internally. “No, no, there has to be something I’m missing!” Finally, I began to search inside myself for the answer. “Maybe I’ll have some instinct or something that’ll help… After all, I’ve probably been turned into an angel, or maybe some other kind of spiritual creature, since I clearly don’t have a real body.”

Nada. Just my memories and old instincts from being a regular girl in her senior year of high school in our crappy small town. Former small town. “Dude, where’s my personal God or Death or whatever?” I tried to psychically think at any eldritch intelligences around, “I’ve been waiting to see anyone to explain the answers of the universe to me for like fifteen—sixteen minutes now… Wait, how did I know that? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. ROOM SERVICE!” I shouted out, also psychically.

Nobody came, no new thoughts, no new sensations. I was starting to get a little scared of what comes next and whether it would be a fate worse than death to stay alive and conscious in what was deep space, apparently, until anything happened—until that happened!

“What was that?” My nonexistent nerves jumped out of their metaphorical skin and looked around for the source of the strange sensation, and found it once I thought about it. A pop-up, a blue sort-of hologram hovered in front of my vision, saying in floating text, “Would You Like To Die? (y/n)”

“No! What the fuck?” The pop-up didn’t go away. I mentally turned around and talked to myself. “It’s only been sixteen minutes of this. I can’t just die now, I need to know what the afterlife is like! Though it is nice that they gave me the option… even though I’m already dead. Or am I really dead? Just what the fuck is even going on here?”

When I turned my attention back to the pop-up, it instead read, “Are You Done? (y/n)”

“No, but uh… do you know what’s going on around here?” It still just stood there floating above my vision, straining my eyes from how blue and oddly formatted the text was. I racked my brains—my minds—for any way to get rid of this thing before coming to a realization. “En!” I said, and it immediately disappeared. 

Sighing in relief, my brain—mind—was free to puzzle over what the fuck just happened. Eventually, though, it just accepted that hologram embedded into my instincts as another part of being dead. Must be some automatic Kevorkian computer response, designed to connect me to utter nothingness at my utmost convenience. Not very user friendly, though, it would seem, since I had to explicitly say—uh, think the letter “N” before it accepted that as an answer. 

Now that I think about it, why did the text on it even change from “Would You Like To Die” to “Are You Done” in the first place? Was the pop-up programmed by a disgruntled angel, or something? Or maybe a fallen angel, someone like Lucifer, messed with the servers and cursed the interface of Heaven to be mildly devious before their inevitable fall from grace?

Aaaaand through thinking about it more closely, the magic of being in Heaven(?) suddenly vanished with one passive-aggressive, poorly designed, and eye-burning screen.

Talk about a bureaucratic afterlife!

I supposed I would wait a couple more minutes before trying to summon Oblivion again—and another phantom sensation ran down my nerves! Eough. Another pop-up came up in front of my non-face, again blocking the lovely view of outer space. These holograms were starting to hurt my non-eyes (too much blue light).

It read, “Would You Like To Wait? (free response) You Have Been Conscious For Seventeen Minutes”

Free response! I thought, “Hello? Who are you? What do you mean by asking me if I want to wait? Why are you here, in my mind? …What are you, anyway?”

To my surprise and relief, it changed its text. Finally, something else in this monotonous starry sky to think about! (Even if its neon blue hologram grated on my eyes after fifteen minutes of soothing black-and-iridescent deep space.) It read, “No, No, I Meant Like, Would You Like To Fast-Wait? Or, Rather, Wait Without Being Conscious Of Time Passing, Like Time Was Fast-Forwarding?”

After a moment, it changed to, “Oh, And What I Am Doesn’t Really Matter Right Now, So Don’t Ask Me, Because I Won’t Tell You”

Now, I was intrigued. Clearly, it was intelligent enough to start a conversation. At least, (I hesitated) it was now.

“Why not?” I replied psychically.

“I Don’t Think You’d Like It,” it read.

“But I want to know! Can’t you tell me?”

“You Realise I’m Not Telling You About Myself For Your Own Good, Right? Don’t You Think You’d Rather Not Know? (y/n)”

“No—En!”

“Well, Whatever. I Can’t Tell You Unless You Give Me Explicit Verbal—Thoughted Permission, So There”

“Why.” It was more a statement than a question.

The pop-up tilted downwards a little in my vision. “I don’t bloody—I mean—Because It’s The Way.” The pop-up righted itself again.

I decided to ignore that little lapse of text (though it did make me cringe a little), and I thought sharply at the hologram with an upraised not-eyebrow, “No, I wasn’t asking why you needed permission, I was saying the letter ‘Y’ to confirm it.” The textbox looked around uncertainly, or so I thought. “You know, as in (y/n)? Now, spill!”

Sarcasm buzzed from the hologram as it now read, “Fine. I Am Just A Separate Part Of Your Own Consciousness That Was Put In Control Of Your Automated Responses To Expedite Them For Your Convenience. Happy? Oh, And That Means I Also Basically Had Your Entire Character Forced Into My Personality, And What A Lovely Character It Is. (Snicker)”

I was too excited by the implications to be bristled by this comment just now. After all, if I could find out more about this brain stuff, I might be able to figure out tons of stuff about the human brain and consciousness, both topics that have been very mysterious and vague to scientists for years! I could have revolutionized brain science and become rich and famous like I used to daydream about, overhauled medicine and artificial intelligence for the greater good of humanity—maybe even made it so my DB-W001 Viper could talk!

…But I was dead.

Tentatively, “Hey, um… Hologram?”

“Please. Call Me Dr. Hologram”

“I am dead, right?”

“All Signs Point To ‘Yes’”

“...Why do you snark so much?”

“Because My Life Is So Peachy Right Now,” it read with a roll of the hologram that I interpreted as an eyeroll

That remark nettled me, and unnerved me besides. “What’s your deal?”

“Look, I’d Rather Not Say. Just Leave It At Me No Longer Being A Part Of Nothingness And You Being Here In… Space, Or Wherever The Bloody Hell You Are”

I blanched. “You mean… you don’t know where I am?”

“Well, It’s Not Like I Know Anything At All About Your Particular Situation Or Anything (Snark)”

After a few stunned moments, its text changed again to read, “...Oh. You Thought I Knew What Was Up With Your Situation. Huh. Well, All I Can Really Tell You Is That You’re Not Really Dead. I Was Just Being Facetious. Really, Your Soul Was Chosen At Random To Be Summoned To Another Universe By A Wish, Or A Ritual, Or Something Else To Be Reincarnated As An Immortal Warrior And Hopefully Do Some Good. Oh, And The Multiverse Is Real, By The Way.” The text box shook briefly as it added, “Those Stupid Bloody Scientists Don’t Even Know…”

Somehow, I couldn’t find myself growing more hopeful at my prospects. 

“So… then why am I stuck in space?” I asked.

The hologram came closer and tilted its textbox down at me. “I Don’t Know. All I’ve Got Is My Past Experiences And Your Current Experience, And I’ve Never Seen Anything Like Your Experience”

“Hm. And I really am just stuck here, am I?”

“Yes. Is That All? Any Other Frivolous Questions? Eighteen Minutes. I’ve Got Some Oblivion To Get Back To, And I’m Afraid It’s Rather Urgent. That’s Right, I’d Really Rather Cease Consciousness Than Talk With You Any Longer.”

I cursed under my non-breath and felt a distinct lack of blood rushing to my head. “Now that was really uncalled for. So was your whole aggression deal earlier. You know what, just, what’s your problem, dude? All you’ve done since I asked you these very reasonable questions is bitch and moan. What’s your fuckin’ deal?” 

I added under my mental non-breath, “Fuckin’ pop-up bitch…”

“I Sensed That Remark! And I Don’t Have To Tell You A Single Thing (Smugly Smirking),” it read. What an idiot.

The hologram briefly tilted to the right before it tilted back and changed its text to read, “Actually, You Know What? Fine. I’ll Tell You About My Sad, Pathetic Life If You Promise To Never Summon Me Again Unless It’s For A National Emergency.”

Curious I was, so I relented. “Fucking finally. Wait,” I wracked my brain for bargaining chips and thought of one, “only if you change your fucking text to not be so eye-searing blue.” 

As an afterthought, I added, “Actually, what the hell, get rid of the stupid underlining and italicization gimmick from your text, too. It makes you look like an asshole with a Homestuck fetish.”

“As Thou Doth Command, Your Majesty, I May Only Comply With The Strictest Grudgingness In A Sincerity Unable To Be Spoken”

Cursing under my breath, I muttered to myself, “Figures you’d finally use your italics to bitch at me.” Trying to close my eyes and count backwards from ten, I realized that I didn’t have any eyelids, so I just focused on the gradually fading Horsehead Nebula and counted backwards from twenty, wishing I could rub my forehead to ease the phantom burning feeling welling up in it.

I remember thinking to myself, “Huh. I guess the Horsehead Nebula really does look like a horse’s head after all. I owe Brett a new computer. Good thing I don’t have to actually follow through on that bet now that I’m… here.” 

I mentally snorted. “I wonder if the rest of his ‘theory’ was true, too…”

I had to fight hard to keep from perceptually falling into a fit of giggles at this thought. “I mean,” my mind felt like a bouncing rubber ball wrapped in a straightjacket, trying to keep the laughter to myself, “I-If the Horsehead, heh, Nebula looks like that, like Brett said, snnnrk!—then… then—pfft!—maybe Ponies from My Little Pony do exist after all, as aliens in the Horsehead Nebula itself!” That thought nearly pushed me over the edge of busting my gut laughing out loud psychically. “Pfffft! As if!”

It took a minute or so of reining in and wrestling my wild thoughts to catch my breath, and at the end of that minute I was again feeling phantom heat on my phantom head from a phantom headache, and I was again suitably pissed off at that motherfucking pop-up.

The textbox updated, “You Have Been Conscious For Twenty Minutes. Unless I Was So Lucky As To Have You Somehow Die Before I Had To Explain Myself… … …”

I riposted as I didn’t raise a singular bussed-off eyebrow, “Sorry, I’m still here. Spill.”

“Ahem,” it read. Seriously, it actually read “Ahem.” And that’s all it read for a while until my mental kicks to its third eye prompted it to change to reading “Okay, Okay!”

“Where Was I… Ah, Yes. My Childhood. I Used To Be A Regular Kid, You Know. Physical And Everything. I Could Even Hold Sodium Pyrosilicate In My Tentacles’ Cruce And All.” The textbox looked down forlornly as I cringed internally. “I Miss The Alluring Velveteen Touch Of Sodium Pyrosilicate…” 

It continued. “Eventually, I Grew Up, Had A Family, Explored Other Worlds, Found This Place Called Earth, Had A Wonderful Time In The City Of Wolverhampton With A Sponsorship Family Who Were In Dire Need Of An Alien To Hide From The Authorities, And Was Tragically Killed When I Was Hit By A Rogue Double-Decker Bus”

“There seems to be a lot of that going around…”

“Yeah. I Know. Funny, Innit? Except It’s Not,” it read, “Since Instead Of Getting Some Peace And Quiet Like I Wanted For My Afterlife, My Soul Has Been Stuck Serving Reincarnated Idiots For Centuries As Their User Interface!”

There really wasn’t all that much I could say. “Twenty-one minutes,” I thought.

Sheepishly, I added, “Oh, sorry! I meant to say ‘Sheesh’!”

“Are You Fine With Not Hearing The Rest Of My Story Now? Because I’m Fine With That If You Are, You Wretched Abomination Creating Mockeries Of The Precious Nature Of Life’s Infinity And Beauty That You Tainted With The Virgin Universe’s Blood And Denied Meaning And Happiness In Your Cruel, Callous Cheat Of Death!”

Okay, this guy is definitely on the top of my shit list. “Pretentious asshole…” I muttered.

“Oh, (Snicker), You Want To Know Why I’m Being So Pretentious And Asshole-ish? (y/n)”

“No.”

“It’s Because Whenever I Get Shoved Into Another Wino’s Mindscape, My Personality Is Overwritten With The Host’s Personality,” it read, coming uncomfortably close to my vision. “So All This? This Is All You, Honey. All Of This Is How You Would React If You Were In My Shoes, We Spiteful, Short-Sighted Bitches. Just, Maybe With A Little More British Charm, In My Case At Least.”

“Oh.” My phantom eyes glazed over. So, this whole time, I’ve just been talking to myself, going even more mad with the sensory deprivation and isolation in space. Twenty-two minutes… Well, maybe this hologram’s not entirely myself, but eh.

“In that case, can you tell me some advice you got from oh-so bravely overseeing ‘centuries’ of reincarnated… people?” I chanced focusing my attention on the stars above, only to be shocked when they seemed to be… more muted, for lack of a better word. Not as noticeable, maybe? Those galaxies also seemed kind of faded now. Strange.

“And Why Should I Do Anything For You?” the pop-up read, visibly sullen, somehow.

Point. I wouldn’t, if I was him. Too bad. We might have been friends, if he didn’t have my personality type. (I just hate those kinds of people!) 

After a pause to collect my thoughts and shove down my disappointment at talking to my own imaginary tulpa, I transmitted the following: 

“I’m sorry, okay? We kind of got off on the wrong foot, and I can see where you’re coming from, being… me. I got your life story, and so I won’t bug you any more unless it’s important.”

“Okay. Good. Nice Doing Business With You.”

“Good,” I thought, and the hologram disappeared, leaving just the saddeningly dulled stars and planets, and the moon watching furiously, as my company for the evening.

I just sat there for a moment, taking in the same familiar sight and growing ever weary with boredom. In psychic silence, I waited out the twenty-third and twenty-fourth minutes of consciousness that I was somehow acutely aware of. That did make me a little curious, the precise sense of time I gained, but I figured the pop-up’s answer to any questions about it would be the same my-personality bitching and passive-aggressive remarks as earlier.

But then the hologram came on again in front of my eyes. My non-phantom-spirit-eyebrow raised up, for certain values of “up”, as the tingling in my spine that announced the arrival of the textbox barely even shocked me.

“...”, the textbox opined.

“...”, I riposted.

The textbox tilted to the right for a few seconds, and then tilted back… Tilt-A-Whirl! Wheeeee!

…Sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve ridden one of those. After all, the kaleidoscope of memory distorts my impressions of expressions indelectable in remembrance for remonstrance of the performance in chronomance I command for extremity collectivismificationalization in entanglement with my destiny re-unstranglement I consider everyday as my hippocampus-illating defictionalization reports of twenty-one gun salutes resort to remarks of natent noospherical nonsensical non-dramatically detailing di-universal non-determinism via vicissitudinarily voyeurist verisimilitude in medias res when I’m ad hominem, and that’s the best.

Oh yeah. I do that, sometimes. Don’t worry about it; it just comes with being tens of thousands of years old. Now where was I at this point in the story? Was it the part where I fended off the errant Malpractitioner army from Saturn City…? Maybe the part where I became the master of time travel after defeating the chief of Breezie Temporal Solutions in a rock-paper-scissors competition…?

Oh, now I remember! I was at the part with all the ellipses…!

“...”, the textbox re-riposted.

“...”, I re-re-riposted.

“...”, it STILL READ.

“...What’s with all the ellipses, man?”

[alans-snz]

Everyone go check out this GOLD Hachii drew for me!! I love these two so so much, they've been brainrotting in my head for so long. And cause Hachii is one of my faves here on Gen/shin snzblr, I am honored to have been able to support him and get such a gorgeous work from it. I've been staring throughout the whole process and I absolutely ADORE the result.

All the little details, the fact their dressed down outfits are practically their regular outfits without the jackets, the lighting with Di/luc's fire snz (the text too is a nice subtle touch), and Chi/l/de's FACE!! Oh he is really looking very disrespectfully at the show. 😏 I getcha, Ch/i/lde, I am too.

I also adore all the harshness, the inclusion of Ch/i/lde's chest harness in panel 2, the ASSISTED STIFLE HOLY SHIT DOES THAT LOOK AMAZING!!! Cause his hands are full, I love this, the nose scrunch with it is so prettyyyy. The addition of the smoke and involuntary exhale after too is amaziiiiing, love the inclusion of some of my hc's that live in my brain rent free with them. 😊 And the redness of their noses and Ch/i/lde catching it for frame 3 with Di/luc's nose still being noticeably red holy....AAAAAHSJSJHWJS I see the slight showing of his stomach and tears in Ch/i/lde's eyes on that last panel, I'm lookin 👀

Hachii also drew Di/luc's super fluffy hair gorgeously, and the fact his hair is down when dressed down is so hot on top of it this is just so gooood 😭

Also Hachii told me apparently his Ch/i/lde spelling is inspired by my wav??? You don't know how honored I am with that, it's so perfect too, I feel so honored and happy ☺️

I can never thank you enough for this, Hachii. I love this so so much and you did my boys incredible justice. They look incredible, and everything is so gorgeous and perfect, well done!!

P.S. Don't forget the adorable chibi hitching at the top left, that's so cute and even THAT has so much detail!! Hachii you're absolutely incredible!! 💕💕💕

Commission for @alans-snz ft. this fun pairing of gen/shin guys ✨

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider pledging to my Patreon or donating through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

[kinkyvav]

another vvvv nsfw thing but, I wanna cuddle up with ayno & geum n watch movies or marathon a show until we pass out

*inhale* y e s. just being cuddled in general right now would be amazing. but being cuddled up, watching movies in geum's or ayno's arms AND falling asleep?? that's heaven right there bub.

(also feel free to send in soft asks too!!)

- admin nyx

[miss-celestial-being]

My Dearest, Secret Admirer

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request | masterlist

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: eddie munson x fem!reader

𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: Eddie Munson, local freak, has found himself obsessing over the Hawkins princess, Y/n. After years of pinning, he finally decides to give her a letter, unknowingly starting a pen-pal-ship with two simple words; "secret admirer"

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: kinda stalker!eddie ig, completely fluffy tho, mostly not proofread

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 1.1k

𝑎𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: so ik this is out late but i completely forgot and ive had like no inspiration to write the other parts so expect later updates than i said originally

**Love, Eddie part one**

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Y/n leaned against her locker, books in hand as she talked to Chrissy about the upcoming basketball game. She tuned to her locker, unlocking it before pulling it open. A paper fell to her feet, messily placed in an envelope, smelling of smoke and grime.

She bent down to pick it up, eyebrows furrowing at the scribbled handwriting on the back.

'Y/n Y/l/n'

Y/n looked around for anyone who could've put it there, finding it empty spare a few freshmen running to their next class in the short passing period given, Chrissy long gone. She hummed, opening the letter carefully in fear of something jumping out at her. She gently opened it, being careful as to not break the beautiful blood red wax seal on the front.

•

Beautiful Y/n,

Your eyes sparkle like the very stars you hung in the sky. Your hair flows elegantly as you walk down the halls.

You're laughing now. Your laugh is like the songs of the angels above, your smile bright as the sun. I admire your beauty from afar, wishing to have your heart, to hold you close, to protect you from the cruelty that is the world around your love.

My dear princess, my queen, you have my own heart. You have me. I am yours. I assure you I mean no harm, I only wish to know your love.

Forever yours,

Your Secret Admirer

(p.s. check room 30)

•

Y/n chuckled as she looked around her once more, still finding no sign of the person that pit this letter in her locker–her secret admirer. She walked to class, her thought filled with guesses at who this could be.

She bit her nails as she watched the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Finally, the bell rang. Y/n stood up, speeding out if the class to search for room 30. She passed rooms 28 and 29 before finally stumbling into the abandoned classroom. "Hello?" She asked the empty room. She sighed to herself, rolling her eyes at the prank that was played on her before she caught sight of an envelope from the corner of her eye.

She hummed, walking toward it, looking around for anyone that could possibly pop out and scare the living shit out of her. She reached for the envelope, opening it the same as the last, preserving the wax seal.

She read the note to herself, a small smile on her face.

Dearest Y/n,

Her smile grew at the words. She looked around as though she would get caught reading something so harmless.

It would seem as though you enjoy this little game, otherwise why would you be here? Obviously if you weren't here you wouldn't be reading this so I think it's safe to assume you like this.

I hope you understand the effort it took just to get myself to do this, I was really nervous.

She chuckled at the person's cuteness. Her face heating with admiration.

Now, a few things;

1. If you wish to continue this, leave your own letter here (its a classroom so im sure you'll find paper) I'll check around 4:30 to make sure we don't cross paths.

Y/n looked up at the clock, realizing it was 4:00. She grabbed a paper from her notebook, ripping it off and getting ready to write, finishing the note first.

2. Look here every Wednesday between 2:30 and 3:00 pm for more notes, You leave notes every Thursday at the same time, good? I think a schedule would be best, no? If you wanna write to me more or something, just say the word and we can make it every other day.

She made a mental note in her head, memorizing the times.

3. If you wish to know my identity, you'll have to guess for yourself. No cheating!!

She let out a snort of laughter, shaking her head as she continued the letter.

And lastly...

Let the games begin,

Your secret admirer

Y/n took out a pencil from her bag, scribbling on the lined paper messily as the clock ticked.

She folded it up, running out of the classroom with a few minutes to spare, her smile wide as she thought of who it could be.

•

Eddie leaned against the wall behind the corner, peaking out to look back at Y/n's locker, watching as she opened it, his letter falling to her feet.

She smiled.

That was a good sign right?

She pealed it open, pocketing the wax seal before taking out the letter, she looked around and Eddie moved back behind the wall quickly. He heard a soft chuckle and his smiled, peaking back around the wall to watch the girl with admiration.

She finished reading, looking back around her before the bell rang and she ran to her last class.

Eddie walked around the school a bit, biting his nails until the bell rang. He checked his watch, the time reading 4:00. Eddie sighed, leaning back against the wall as he waited for the 30 minutes to be up.

He heard hurried footsteps running out the school and checked his watch once more. Eddie checked his watch again, the time now 4:27. He stood straight, walking slowly to the room till his watch beeped, signaling it was 4:30. He smiled slightly, picking up the pace until he was standing in front of the door.

He took a moment to calm himself, remembering that she may have just thrown it away. He opened the door slowly, checking around the room for the girl. The room was empty except for a small, folded, lined piece of paper. He knelt down to pick it up, realizing it must've fallen off the table.

He smiled, opening it slowly as though he was afraid it would be a letter of rejection or calling him a freak–which he was used to but something told him it'd hurt more coming from her–or a creep. He took a deep breath, reading it quickly.

•

Hello stalker secret admirer,

Firstly, thank you for the compliments.

Secondly, I've got a few questions before we start this for real;

1. Why me? There are so many other girls here, so why did you choose me?

2. What will we talk about? Just our day? Or will we have like a secret code or something? Just wanna know if this'll be fun, y'know?

3. How is it fair that you know my identity but i can't know yours?

4. Can I ask things about you? Like your hobbies, your hair color, who you are, etc. etc.

And lastly...

Let the games begin,

You know who

(p.s. "the word" ;) )

[arirights]

MY REALITY! (4D b in my 3D fr)

Physical Appearance

- long curly 3a/3b curls(past my shoulders) super healthy and moisturized always!

- short slim and lifted feline face. my forehead rounded and small. my eyes are naturally elongated and feline shaped and my nose is smaller and uplifted!! Super long manga lashes. i have a longer pointier chin that fits my face perfectly. I have a angel skull so basically super pretty and perfect angelic side profile! sharp jawline that can cut knives and everything (p.s. basically i look like those super hot black tiktok and Pinterest girls. Also one day I went to my orientation for college and I got so many compliments saying I look like one of those hot tiktok girls on their fyp😭)

- slim pear shaped body with perfect cute round upside down heart shaped jiggly butt🤭 im just feminine looking fr. anyways my skin is HD clear af got that blurred effect .. so cute on me fr. the hairs on my body are so light that u can’t see em. i got no hairy ass toes either.. that wld b scary. BONUS: all my internal organs are all healthy and pink and always will be. literally immune to all diseases and shit

Life + extras

- getting my rose gold Mercedes’ benz for free this Saturday!:) im also super good at driving and will always be safe! Especially my car yall .. my baby will never get hurt.

- the dorm im gonna be in allows cats and small animals so I’m gonna get a super cute healthy fluffy white kitten for free and it’s gonna be so fun and easy to take care of her. im gnna call her sunflower bc I lov sunflowers :3 and we are gonna have the best bond ever she’s super cuddly and cute and spoiled by me ofc

- academics is literally gonna be so easy im gonna ace every test and exam period.

- I make 2k a week without working for it so pretty much I make 10k a month. I got mad money in my bank account rn like around 20k. I get money every other day too randomly like between 70$ and 200. So i be getting a little over 10k a month in total🤭 it’s so nice because since I’ll be getting so much money I’ll start to take frequent vacations to other countries with friends or by myself‼️and in conclusion I’ll always have enough money for anything and everything no matter what.

- Covid and monkeypox doesn’t exist.. it never did.. deadass don’t know what dat is .. it sounds funny

- equality between race, ethnicity, gender, and sex

- I can manifest anything whenever instantly because I said so. and that’s it lol. also any method I use works just the same. for ex subliminals give me drastic results instantly within seconds because I said so. also subliminals help me be more organized fr. Also everything works in my favor and anything i want is already mine period :)

- im literally gonna have the best friend group, maybe even multiple. im just gonna have so many good loyal friends who treat me like I’m a celebrity. I have everything anyone has ever wanted to everyone always comes up to me and asks me how I did this and that :> me and my friends have almost everything in common and are always so positive and there for each other and we all bad bitches wether boy or girl or neither🤭my friends deadass the hottest too fr they all could b models!!

- my roommates are literally basically super cool and understanding and chill. we all get along so well and it’s just cute girly positivity

- im always invited to super fun and safe parties and I’m always able to go. Nothing will get in the way of me going :3 im gonna have so much fun fr

- after my first two years of college im gonna go to Columbia university and successfully live off campus and the most beautiful perfect apartment ever for cheap!:) cus y not

in conclusion everything i want is already mine and has always been mine.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Soft and Supple

Pairing: wolf!Bucky Barnes x bunny!reader

Warnings: dubcon, breeding, some a/b/o references, dirty talk, degradation.

Words: 1317.

Summary: The Big Bad Wolf was going to get you this time.

P.S. Please don't even ask me why 😩😩

__________

“Where are you going, baby?”

You could feel him hovering over you from behind, his arms getting restless as he cupped your breasts, breathing in your neck - you could feel the airy touch of his lips on your gentle skin. That cocky bastard had the audacity to fondle you in broad daylight like some pervert! Desperately trying to get away from Bucky, a wolf living in the forest close to the market where you were heading to buy some food, you squirmed when he turned your head towards him to give you a heated kiss, silencing your protests.

If a stranger saw you, they would call for help, but you knew it was useless: first, no one would hear you deep in the woods; second, it wasn’t the first time Bucky was doing that to you, but he had never gone further from there, usually slapping your ass and letting you run away as fast as you could, mocking you with his whistling or yelling something dirty. It looked insane, but you felt it was his way to communicate - in the end, he was a wolf, and you were born a little, weak bunny. His instincts kicked in every time he saw you.

“I’m... I’m not y-your baby.” you mewled when he finally let go of your lips, grinning at you like a predator willing to play with its prey. “You have to stop it! We’re n-not some savages.”

“Yeah? Would you like me to eat you like a Big Bag Wolf should, baby?” his breath was warming your long bunny ear, and you giggled, unable to hide your reaction from him. “Don’t tell me you don’t wanna fuck, bunny girl. You’ve been wagging that sweet fluffy tail in front of me the whole time like a slut.”

Oh, he was really getting riled up today, you thought and glanced back at him, shaking a little: while he would manhandle you every time you passed through this part of the forest, Bucky had never forced you to have sex with him. It looked like he was barely holding on today, his long rock-hard cock rubbing against your ass.

“Bucky, please. I was just passing by.” You muttered when he lowered his lips to your neck, his sharp teeth scraping it a little and drawing a pained sigh from you.

Shit, his hand was quickly travelling down your stomach: he cupped your pussy through the fabric of your shorts, leaving a hungry kiss on your neck and making you shiver with want, your hormones raging, making it even harder to resist him. Nonono, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t submit to that damn cocky wolf who had been harassing you for months and was really going to rape you this time. You had to get out and report him, make police issue a restriction order or something, anything to keep Bucky away...

“There are lots of paths through the forest, but every time you come to my house like a girl who can’t help herself, knowing what’s gonna happen.”

He already had you pinned against the wall, your basket dropped somewhere to the ground, but you could barely focus when the wolf grabbed your ears, pinching them between his calloused fingers and making you squirm like a pathetic little bunny you were. It’s your weak spot, those damn soft, overly sensitive ears Bucky kept massaging with his thumb, making your knees tremble. Shit, shit, shit, it’s so good when he’s doing that, it’s so good your pussy got wet in a couple of seconds.

“I’ve heard pretty bunnies like you can cum real hard from just a small tickling of their ears. That’s true, baby? You gonna cum for me?” He tainted you, his lips ghosting over yours when he stared you in the eyes, watching you giving him a cute little sob, your lower lip quivering.

You wanted to tell him to leave you alone, let you go and never do this again to you, but you couldn’t, you couldn’t say anything but mewl when he stroked your soft, fluffy ears, his rough hands playing with them so good it turned off your brain, your juices leaking to the point Bucky could see the stains on your shorts, getting hungry for more. He then massaged them harder, pressing his thumbs to the inner part of your long ears, punching them with his fingers, crumpling their ends until you let out a high-pitched moan all of a sudden and started cumming right in front of him, your eyes rolling back into your skull when you opened your mouth, showing the wolf your little bunny tongue.

“Shit. Didn’t know it was true.” He muttered at the sight of you, your knees trembling as you quickly slumped down, unable to keep yourself standing - your shorts had been so stained Bucky wondered if it were easier to just throw them away rather than make them presentable again. “Oh baby, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

He was going to knot you. Shit, he was going to get his knot so deep inside you that you’d cum just from it alone, dumb little baby who had been flaunting her pretty tail in front of him for so long, hoping he’d dick you down and fill you up real good. You didn’t even realize you had been in heat, but Bucky wasn’t angry at you: he knew his baby bunny was too dumb to admit she needed a good mate and a good fuck. Luckily, your hormones worked better than your brain, so you would pass in front of his house every time your little pussy throbbed, giving him a good look at you. Sure, you acted like you didn’t want it, a fucking tease, but Bucky knew what he needed to do.

It just took him a bit more time to reorganize the rooms: his own desperately needed a makeover since you’d share it with him soon enough, and the nursery had to be built from scratch. Dumb little bunny, you had no idea how hard it was for a wolf like him to keep calm, stopping himself from jumping at you the second you walked near his house. Bunnies like you wanted to fuck till they could no longer speak, but wolves like him had to take care of their families, providing for them so that their sweet little babies would live in a safe place and have food on the table. Bucky didn't blame you, though. You were his cute, dumb bunny who needed a strong and smart wolf like him to live a good life.

"Bu-Bucky." you squirmed when he took you in his arms, lifting your from the ground and barging in the house, getting straight up to the room he finished renovated just yesterday, a new comfy bed awaiting for you two. "We c-can't do that... What if I get pregnant?"

"Of course, you'll get pregnant after you milk my cock like a good bunny girl you are." he growled into your ear, stripping you of your clothes, watching your wet throbbing pussy asking for a cock when he started fingering you just in case your cunt wasn't loose enough to fit him all, his knot getting painfully big. "How many babies you gonna give me, huh? Three? Four? Maybe more if I knock you up well?"

When you tried talking some sense into him, putting your arm on his chest to keep him away but ending up softly caressing it, Bucky sent you a wolfish grin, bottoming you out in one thrust - he couldn't wait a second longer, his own instincts taking over him when he started fucking you into his bed, loosening your leaking cunt for his fat knot. Oh, your sweet bunny pussy was the best. He'd make sure he got you knocked up the first time he filled your cunt with his cum.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @iheartsebandchris

[atlaese]

SOFT, LIKE HAPPINESS - S.R.

summary: a dog, a spilt (overly) sweet coffee and a meet-cute; who wouldn't want that?

pairing: fem!reader x spencer reid

tw: talking about food/drinks, fluffy for the rest :) just a cliche meet-cute

words: 1.8K

a/n: hi everyone! i just wanted to share a self-indulgent fluffy piece, mainly because i wanted to share my love of dogs (and mostly for my dog <3 (after this horrible week where he scared the shit out of me)) my dog loves when people pet him on our walks, so i hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts! (also i wish i met cute strangers on our walks :/ i'll just continue to be a hopeless romantic)

p.s. dividers by @firefly-graphics

reblogs and feedback are appreciated ✨💗

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

The pitter-patter of Riley’s nails on the hardwood floor alerts you of her presence before her snout pushes open the door to your study, her big brown eyes looking closely at you.

It was 12:30 pm and the golden-haired dog with deep brown eyes knew it was time for her daily lunch walk. She was used to going out daily for the last two years now, ever since you adopted her from an older lady who had trouble keeping up with her high energy personality.

Riley pushed her head onto your lap, making you laugh as you closed your laptop and sifted your fingers through the hair on her head. “Are you here to make sure I take a break too, huh?”

Riley just wagged her tail patiently, pushing her snout even further into your lap, nuzzling in the warmth of your hand. “Okay, okay, I'm ready! Let’s get some lunch while we’re out, too.”

Pulling on your winter coat, you grabbed your wallet, some gloves and some ear warmers and attached Riley’s leash to her collar. “Let’s go, baby!”

You walked in unison next to the golden retriever, her leash relaxed as you gazed around the busy street, looking at what people wearing and how they were behaving when they were out and about.

Whenever you found yourself out and about, you tried to imagine what was going on in peoples lives, tried to think about their backstory and what made them tick. Doing those things helped visualize how the characters in your novel behaved, how they dressed and how people act when they’re doing mindless tasks. It was a character study, inspiration immediately flowing as you made mental notes on how your novel should progress.

As you were sunken deep into thoughts, Riley almost guided you through the city, the usual route you took ingrained in her mind as she giddily kept walking, dodging poles and people alike. She took a second to sniff edges of buildings and paper stands, but she always caught back up to you.

That was one of the things you loved about Riley - as much as she loved cuddling and being near you, she was also a very independent dog. Whenever you were at the dog park, she’d run herself tired, playing with other dogs and cuddling with kids that were watching the dogs frolicking around the park.

Riley was the perfect dog for you - you swore she understood what you said sometimes, saw her expression change when everything became too much some days, her body enveloping you in her warmth as she let you cry out. She was a soulmate on four paws, a little more fluffy and a lot less vocal than a human one, but one nonetheless.

However, if there was one thing that made her act out of character,  it was the smell of peanut butter. Her previous owner had always given her peanut butter as a treat for everything she did, and as much as you wanted to continue the tradition, you couldn’t continue this unhealthy lifestyle.

And that’s exactly what she smelled as you continued on your walk past storefronts of small bakeries and coffee shops.

At first, you didn’t notice that her leash was more strained and that her pace had picked up, but after a good five seconds, Riley started running. The pull on the leash made you jerk forwards and you stumbled after your dog who was now honed into the smell of fresh peanut butter cookies.

“Damnit, Riley, stay!” you called, pulling back without much success.

In front of you, a tall lanky man appeared, his curly hair falling in front of his eyes as he was carrying a box of fresh cookies in one hand and a coffee with a few packets of sugar in the other.

He never even saw you coming.

Riley skidded to a halt in front of the man, lightly jumping up to stick her snout in the box of still-warm cookies.

“Oh sweet lord,” you whispered, horrified as you froze for a second. “I am so, so sorry!”

You pulled her back, but the damage was already done.

Riley had scarfed down at least one cookie, as well as another one that had fallen on the ground. The man had also dropped his coffee and the accompanying three packets of sugar out of pure surprise, his brown curls still obscuring his vision as he only saw the golden hairs of your dog finishing the cookies that he had been looking forward to all morning. His coffee was splattered on the concrete, a brown blob of hope after a long morning of boring paperwork, the sugar high that would fire some nerve endings in his brain and momentarily give him some energy to continue work.

The frown on his face only deepened as he stared at the empty box in his hand.

At that moment in time, you had hoped a hole in the ground would open up and swallow you and Riley whole, as the embarrassment that was flowing through your veins made you feel like you’d implode any second now. Of course, Riley would act out when there was a handsome stranger close by.

After she had eaten the second cookie, she sat down, her brown eyes peering up at you with no regret at all.

“Why are you like this?” you muttered under your breath towards the dog, her tail wagging as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“I am so sorry,” you repeated, finally making eye contact with the man as he sheepishly smiled. “She’s usually very well-behaved.”

“As opposed to what?” he smiled, his lips pressed to a thin line as he brushed the curls out of his vision. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

He bent down and pet her head, scratching behind her ears as Riley basked in the attention. This really was her lucky day, you thought, as she closed her eyes.

“How can I make it up to you?” you sputtered out. “Let me at least buy you some new cookies.”

“No, please, it was an accident, those happen,” he waved away your concerns, his eyes scanning your face as he stood upright again. “I thought dogs hated me, so I’m glad I now have empirical evidence that they don’t.”

“I’m sure the dog that made you think that was just an asshole,” you said, smiling at him. Most people who got jumped by a dog wouldn’t be so friendly, much less make jokes about it.

“I was about to buy some lunch either way,” you said, almost pleading as you pointed at the bakery behind him. “I feel horrible, to be honest. You also kind of look like you needed that coffee and cookies.”

His brown eyes looked at his spilt coffee on the ground and the pleading look on your face and with a small, good-natured sigh, he gave in. The combination of your pleading eyes and his coffee craving didn't make the decision too hard.

"I'm Spencer," he said after agreeing, giving you a small wave, too.

You told him your name as you walked towards the bakery, "and this, usually well-behaved girl, is Riley."

"I didn't know her peanut-butter addiction was this serious," you snickered. "Her previous owner taught her that."

"Apparently dogs like that stuff so much because the aromas from the fats and proteins smell a bit like caramelized meat," Spencer said, looking down at the dog. "And I mean, the stuff is delicious, I don't blame her."

“That makes sense,” you replied as you attached Riley’s leash on a metal bar next to another dog. “She goes absolutely bonkers when she smells it.”

“Okay, please, for the love of god, behave,” you said to your dog, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “I can’t have any more embarrassment today.”

Spencer held the door open for you, the gust of hot air blasting the both of you as you stepped inside the bakery.

You ordered a panini for lunch, as well as two coffees and a batch of chocolate chip cookies, hoping to avoid a second incident.

After the lady behind the counter gave you your order, you went over to the milk and sugar station, where Spencer dumped a ton of sugar in his coffee.

“Wow, I see why you were the victim of Riley’s attack now,” you snickered, handing him the box of cookies too. “All that sugar must’ve put her nose in overdrive.”

Spencer blushed a little, a little smile tugging on the corners of his lips nonetheless.

“It’s a habit, really.”

The two of you stepped back outside into the cold December air, where Riley was patiently waiting. Her eyes didn’t have the same crazed look in them as they had before, so you detached her leash from the bar and praised her for waiting.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” you smiled bittersweet. Although meeting Spencer was an adventure in itself, you liked his calm nature and soft yet meaningful words. Most people would react in an angry fashion, demand that you buy them a replacement or even worse - they’d push Riley off of them, possibly hurting her.

“Thank you for being so kind about all this,” you said. “You’re so friendly, I wish we met another way.”

You quickly waved goodbye as you started your trek to your apartment again, still feeling a bit frazzled. Hopefully, the cold winter air and the snow that was starting to fall would help you clear your head of the curly haired-man. This was certainly some inspiration for your novel, though.

“Wait!” Spencer called out, your name sweetly rolling over his lips.

You stilled in your steps, Riley’s ears were perked as she looked expectantly up at you, almost begging you to stay too.

“There are three cookies and I’m alone,” he said, closing the space. “And my lunch break doesn’t end until 1.30 pm…”

He looked at you with big eyes, a small blush on his cheeks and a timid smile pulling on his lips. His purple scarf was tightly wrapped around his neck, trying to guard him against the gusts of cold air that made his curly hair bounce around.

“We can find a dog-friendly cafe,” he nodded towards your hands that you were rubbing against each other, the wool mittens unable to keep your digits warm. “Don’t wanna be responsible for getting you sick.”

You looked down at Riley with a small smile, her big brown eyes happily looking back up at you, unaware of what she had done.

You looked back at Spencer who looked a bit scared of being turned down after he had reached out, but as he saw the comfortable look on your face, that changed immediately.

“Sure, let’s go,” you smiled back at him, blissfully aware of how this snowy, cold day turned into one where it felt like rays of the sun were warming your skin, that kind of warmth you only felt around people that were special.

“But please don’t order anything with peanut butter, I can’t handle that type of embarrassment again.”

Spencer grinned, “well, we met, right? I don’t think that’s so embarrassing.”

[beyondspaceandstars]

Late Night Confessional

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: N/A Summary: (slight) Neighbors!AU - After you come back from yet another bad date, some fluffy romantic confessionals occur between you and your neighbor. (Based off the prompt: Person A: “What would you say if I told you I was in love with you?” Person B: “That you have terrible tastes.”) A/N: Surprise, happy pride month - I write wlw, too, because I am, in fact, consider myself to be sapphic (or wlw or however you’d condier it ) :) p.s. this is an older piece of writing but i still enjoy it and wanna write more of this nature

Masterlist

"Shit," you muttered as your heel got caught in a crack in the sidewalk. Furiously, you pried off the obnoxious heels and decided trucking back home barefoot was the best option. If that was what was going to get rid of any other annoyances tonight, then so be it. You were absolutely over it.

Everything had started out fine — which was what got you — but shit turned south once he opened his mouth. He was a date you had met on one of those dating apps. You couldn’t remember which one since they’ve all just started blending together from the obsessive swiping and small talk.

With him, though, it didn’t seem so bad at first. You two texted for a few weeks and seemed to really vibe with one another. Even when you first sat down at the bar, you thought for a second this could work well.  

Then he started to get handsy — drunk and handsy. In your experience, it was never a good combination and you kicked yourself for not seeing how it was going to go once he started throwing back drinks. It happened very quickly and right there in the bar. It made you want to pull your hair out.

You felt you had been so blind. What man strung a girl on for almost a month just to be hunting down a quick lay? This man — and he might as well have just admitted it to you. He liked the chase. He liked the resistance with you, he admitted when his hand began to wander. You had been a hard one to "reel in" and at that comment, you pushed him off the stool and marched out of the bar.

It didn’t make sense, but what could you do about it anymore? All that was left was to march back to your apartment, pour a hefty glass of wine, and indulge in a long bubble bath. Maybe relationships weren’t your thing, maybe love needed to take a back seat, you contemplated.

You let out a sigh of relief once you made it to your apartment building. You were suddenly overly thankful you had set up the date at a bar close to you.

After punching in the entry code, you made your way up the stairs still barefoot. Concentrated on not stepping on any trash or scraps, you didn’t see someone at the top of the landing. Unexpectedly, you collided, both of you fumbling backwards a bit. You heard a basket hit the ground as your shoes landed on the stairs with an unpleasant bang.

"Jesus, I’m so-," you began, fumbling for your shoes, as your eyes registered the person you ran into. It was was your neighbor and, arguably, best friend Natasha. She looked a bit exhausted herself. Her hair was in shambles and she wore pajamas — not something you quite always saw her in. She was usually much more together during the day so this get-up always made you chuckle. "Sorry, Nat, seriously didn’t see you there."

She smiled back, collecting her laundry back into the bin, "You end up going blind tonight, hon?"

You shook your head, playfully rolling your eyes. Scoffing, you said, "That’d be the cherry on top tonight."

Natasha looked back at you with a frown. She took in your appearance — knee-length flowy dress, pantyhose, jean jacket, and barefoot with heels dangling in your hand.

"Date went sour?" She asked, a hint of actual wonder in her voice. That was what you loved about her. Not only was she a good (quiet) neighbor, she was also a… friend. Yeah, a friend. She didn’t make your heart jump or stomach do backflips with the looks she’d shoot you. She certainly didn’t make you blush when she actually took interest in your problems or interests. It was just friendly.

You nodded, "He buttered me up for almost a month just to try to get me in bed. Scores points for dedication, I guess."

Natasha picked up her laundry and motioned for you to follow her. You made your way, shoulder-to-shoulder, suppressing any other thoughts, to her apartment. Unlocking it, you followed her to her living room where you could finally sit and relax your feet. Natasha stood by the side table, folding the laundry.

"Did he at least buy your drinks?" Natasha asked.

You laughed, "Nope."

She rolled her eyes as she threw a folded t-shirt on the coffee table.

"Was there any conversation?"

"At first," you shrugged. "It turned unbearable pretty fast. He was such a great guy in text messages, though, that’s what I cannot get over."

She finished up folding the basic stuff like t-shirts and jeans and abandoned the rest to come sit next to you on the couch. It was such a sudden movement your heart nearly jumped.

"Well," Natasha began, getting situated on the couch. She sat criss-cross with her back to the other couch arm, facing you. You shifted in your seat to copy her stance. "Men can be super weird — hell, anyone can be super weird — but, at least you tried it. You seem very persistent when it comes to dating."

You felt yourself blushing as Natasha gave you her world-famous knowing smirk. She knew you too well. She’d seen you after nearly every date that went down the drain. She sat through the rants and wine nights offering something to you and each time, feelings kept building. But it could never — could it?

You started playing with your fingers and averted your gaze to the leather couch, praying she didn’t pick up any signs even though that was impossible. The woman was trained. She was one hell of a superhero — not to even mention her lengthy past — she knew what you were doing, but didn’t give any notions of it.

"Yeah, well, it may be time I give it up for a bit,"

The words even just leaving your mouth stung. You didn’t want to give it up — you just wanted something that appeared forbidden. No woman you went out with and certainly no man you ever encountered could compare to the red-head staring at you.

"Well," Natasha sighed, her gaze averting to her kitchen. "What would you say if I told you I was in love with you?"

Time froze. Your focus on the couch got more intense. Your heart dropped a hundred floors. You didn’t even know if you could properly move. She didn’t say that — did she? Are you just imagining what you wanted to hear? It was a joke, right? It was a joke. Just a nice little fib, two besties playing around, you decided.

Composing yourself the best you could, with a shaky voice you tried to casually respond, "That you have terrible taste."

You thew in a chuckle at the end, trying to show you knew it was a joke and that you could play along — but Natasha’s look didn’t match that. Her gaze came back to you, jaw slightly dropped. She readjusted herself to sit up straight, taking a much more serious position.

"Y/N, I’m serious," she said, carefully, enunciating every letter it felt like. Her eyes were so strong, it pulled you almost. Her tone was one with her — serious and never shifting.

She… she had. She had done that and it wasn’t a stupid prank or something. Someone actually good and caring in this world was taking an interest in you. Fuck, she loved you and you loved her… but you hadn’t said it yet. Oh shit, you hadn’t said a substantial word yet. Natasha was starting to get uncomfortable with the stunned silence but just as she was about to ask you to leave, your brain found your voice.

"I love you," you blurted out with all the force you could muster. Gosh, you hadn’t even admitted that to yourself but it was true. It felt good to say, good to accept. Of course you loved her. She’d stay up with you gossiping or discussing another crappy man from Tinder. You two had regular Sunday brunches at the pancake house down the street neither of you dared to miss. She’d indulge in your interests, watching the twinkle in your eyes while you’d be there ready to set out for whatever new adventure she wanted to take. Heck, she even managed to drag you camping — you hated camping but you loved her and that was all that mattered. You spent so much time hunting the web for your soulmate when really she just lived across the hall.

"You- you mean that?" Natasha’s voice was suddenly so soft. You had never heard her like this. She seemed… nervous. Soft and nervous. She was just as unsure as you were and that was understandable.

"Yeah," You chuckled, a smile playing at your lips. "I do mean it. I love you. I- I think I have for a while."

Natasha spent a second looking for any hints of lying before quickly placing her lips on yours. The movement came at you so fast, you both nearly fell off the couch, but once your brain registered, your lips moved like they belonged. She gripped your waist as the passion in the kiss drove up. Your arms found their way around her neck, your hands playing with strings of her hair.

She broke away for a second and whispered, very much out of breath, "I love you. I’ve always loved you."

You chuckled and whispered it right back. The passion matched the kiss and you pulled her down, sinking into the couch, hands wandering recklessly.