#sixteen candles x reader

[saint-petah-the-good]

my biggest fear is being closed in a room with all of my fictional crushes

[sebsgirl71479]

Aaaaahhhhhh this was the ultimate dream when I was a little girl. Now tell me you don't see Steve Rogers as the Jake Ryan character?

Sixteen Candles (1984).

[iichfilwypj]

his dreamy girl | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: i mention a hit? this is pure fluff to me im very bad at this. Also i was falling asleep and i thought of these so it might suck <3 ღ wc: 685 pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

“And then he tried to steal my sword! The one that literally comes back to me! How stupid can you be?” his rambles echoed through Cabin 3 that hot, dark night. Some hours earlier, the blue team had won Capture the Flag, and Percy was especially excited to share all the details with her. 

Like every other time, she hadn’t attended; not because she wasn’t skilled with weapons, but because no one had managed to wake her from her nap. When Grover tried, he received a slap and a mumbled, “The horses are hungry”, in response.

So there she was, lying on Percy’s bed in her pajamas with a face mask on, listening to him recount how he had hit Clarisse on the nose, how he had nearly eaten dirt, and how Annabeth had, once again, shoved him into the lake. His voice was extremely high-pitched, and she was on the verge of bursting into tears.

That was something she hated about being a daughter of Hypnos. Although her father had blessed her with the divine power to control her dreams –and believe me, being a demigod, that was very, very nice–, he also gifted her with a constant sense of fatigue. At breakfast? She was tired. Lunch? She was tired. Oh, she just woke up from a five-hour nap? So what, she was still tired. She couldn’t help it, no matter how hard she tried. 

When she met Percy, she quickly became friends with the boy who, instead of ignoring her for hours until she apologized for something she couldn’t control, set up a cozy little corner for her in his cabin, with pillows, stuffed animals, candles, and even tea bags. Come on, that boy was willing to challenge his dyslexia just to read something for her before bed.

“And then Annabeth goes, Well, you should run faster. Like, what!? I run very fast, sorry–” Percy’s shout jolted his friend out of her daydream, having closed her eyes as thoughts raced through her mind. She looked at him, watching as he fiddled with the sheets, and decided she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hey, ocean breath” she murmured, and to him, her voice sounded like a fucking angel’s. Seeing her there, in his bed made him feel like an idiot and a coward. 

He looked at her with curiosity, quickly recalling what he was about to share and feeling excited to tell about it. “What? I was about to tell you how she crashed into the tree,” but as her eyes slowly rolled back, Percy realized what was happening. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Oh, Zeus, don’t tell me you’re tired!”

He moved closer to her, resting his head on his pillow and basically lying down on top of her. By the way her head was tilting to the side, he knew he only had a few minutes left before she fell completely asleep. 

And yes, he totally chose those last minutes to tease her.

“Oh god, you’re like a baby! No, like a puppy. Wait, was it cats that slept like sixteen hours a day?” the girl tried to push him away with the little strength she had left, but Percy knew that deep down, she enjoyed this. Well, maybe not being squished by him, but knowing that he didn’t see her sleep as a bad thing.

She would never know, but Percy's favorite pastime was admiring her while she slept –oh my god, of course he couldn’t tell her that, it sounded really creepy. He cherished every detail about her, and if she was happy sleeping, he would make the whole world fall into an eternal slumber just to please her.

“Go to sleep, dreamy,” he said, gently flipping them both so she was on top of him. After turning off the little lamp beside the bed, his hands found their way to her back, stroking it softly. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. He dared to say “I love you”

But she was already lost in her dreams, and he was completely head over heels.

again, i am slut for fluff!!!! <3

[pastryfication]

hii!! could I please request another sister Leclerc fic?? I don’t mind the topic as all your writing is amazing 💞💞 hope you have a good day! xx

hi!! i love writing sibling relationships so thank you for your request 🫶🫶 i hope it’s what you wanted

october birthdays | leclerc sister

pairing: leclerc brothers x sister!reader

summary: a story of how you and your brothers have celebrated your birthdays together throughout the years.

content warnings: very cute siblings bc that is one of my comfort tropes

october was a special month for many reasons. it was then fall break happened, halloween came, and most importantly: the big birthday week fell in october.

growing up with three older brothers had always meant a whirlwind of energy and competition. the four of you were extremely close—your relationship was a value your parents had drilled into you from a young age—but the bond you shared with arthur and charles was something else. something unique, cemented by your consecutive birthdays on the 14th, 15th and 16th of october. your close birthdays were a running joke amongst your friends, something you had both loved and hated growing up. but no matter how much you wished that you had your own birthday week, you couldn’t deny that there was something special about sharing it with your brothers.

on october 14th, you wake up to the familiar hum of excitement that always accompanies mid-october in your house. the smell of pancakes wafts from the kitchen, mingling with the autumn air that sneaks through the open window. your mother is already up, her cheerful humming a comforting backdrop to the clatter of pots and pans.

arthur, the youngest of your brothers, turns 24 today. tomorrow, it’s your turn—21 at last. and the day after, charles will celebrate his 27th birthday. the tradition to celebrate together, one big party that perfectly captures the essence of your close-knit family, is still going strong, and arthur and charles have both managed to come home for the week, a rare occasion that fills you with joy and excitement.

you scarcely remember your birthday when you turned six. arthur turned nine, and charles was a proud twelve-year-old.

back then, the house was filled with the smell of your mother's homemade baking. she had worked tirelessly, baking three cakes—one for each of you. she joked that it was like running a small bakery for a week.

when you close your eyes, you can still hear the laughter that echoed through the house as the three of you ran around, arthur boasting about his new remote-controlled car, charles showing off his model f1 car, and you clutching your new doll, a gift from your three brothers.

in the middle of the living room, the three of you gathered around a small table, the cakes in front of you. charles had just taught you and arthur how to blow out the candles all at once, a tradition he said brought good luck. as the sun dipped below the horizon, you all blew out the candles together, your wishes mingling in the evening air.

as teenagers, the tradition shifted slightly but remained just as special. the living room parties turned into backyard barbecues, your friends mingling with theirs. you recall the year you turned sixteen, arthur nineteen, and charles twenty-two. you were all busier then, with school, friends and budding responsibilities, but your birthdays were non-negotiable. it was the first year both your brothers brought a girlfriend to the celebration. you had felt a pang of jealousy, worried the tradition might change, but it didn’t. instead, it only grew. and it only continued to grow in the following years.

now, at 21, you’re in your family home, the air filled with the familiar scent of birthday cakes baking in the oven.

you head downstairs as soon as you wake up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and delicious breakfast meeting you. your mum greets you with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek when you meet her in the kitchen.

soon after, you hear the front door open and arthur’s familiar voice fills the room.

“morning! look who i found wandering outside,” he exclaims, nudging your older brother in the ribs as they walk in.

charles walks a step behind arthur, looking more mature but with the same spark in his eyes. he’s 27 now, but in this house, time feels like it has stood still. he hugs you gently, a warmth in his smile that reminds you of your childhood and makes you feel as if he’s never been away.

“it’s good to be home,” he says softly, burrowing his nose in your hair as if to sniff up the essence of you—because for him, you equal home in a way nothing else does. “happy birthday, ma petite.”

your oldest brother, lorenzo, joins you soon after. he’s always been the steady one, the rock that keeps the family grounded. he’s 35 now, an old man in your eyes, working a regular job and supporting your mother as she manages the household, but his support for you never wavers. he watches over you all with a quiet pride that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

as the day progresses, it quickly disappears in a blur of laughter, stories, and nostalgic moments. you spend the morning catching up, the afternoon playing games in the yard like you used to do and the evening gathered around the dinner table. your mother has outdone herself with a feast, and of course, the three special cakes make their annual appearance. this year, they are red velvet for charles, lemon for arthur, and chocolate for you. you savour every bite and smile brightly as your mother makes you pose for a picture; charles in the middle with his two younger siblings leaning against him, while lorenzo stands behind you, arms around the three of you.

later, after the cake has been devoured and the dishes cleared, you find yourselves in the living room, flipping through old photo albums. there are pictures from every birthday, from the chaotic, frosting-smeared faces of your childhood to the more recent, slightly more sophisticated celebrations at racetracks and fancy restaurants.

arthur points to a photo of the three of you from years ago, standing in front of a go-kart track, each holding a trophy. “remember this day? when mum and dad let us all race together for the first time.”

you laugh, recalling how charles had tried to teach you both racing tactics while arthur had insisted on just having fun. surprisingly, arthur did end up winning with his questionable method, but it had been charles who scooped you up and twirled you around in victory when you managed to finish without spinning out.

“i was terrible,” you laugh.

“let’s be honest,” arthur states. “you’re still terrible.”

offended, you lay your face in a mask of fake outrage, turning to hit his side. your fist connects with his shoulder, but he barely flinches, only laughing at you. the rest of your family soon joins, and you can’t help but give in too. you really are terrible.

as the evening winds down, you sit on the porch with charles and arthur, the cool night air wrapping around you. as you stare out at the night sky, resting your head on arthur’s shoulder, you realize that no matter where life takes you, these moments will always bring you back together. the tradition, the love, and the shared birthdays are the threads that weave your family into a tapestry of unbreakable bonds. the stars are bright, and for a moment, everything is perfect.

perfect, because some things never change, and for that, you are eternally grateful.

[chilling-seavey]

Dreamland (ln4) - Part Three

↳ A/N Idk where my mind went when I wrote this but I'm almost embarrassed to post it because it's so filthy- Please comment something nice so I don't regret everything and delete these 7.7k words of pure sin LOL

↳ Inspired By: 'Late Night Talking' by Harry Styles

↳ Summary: Ever since your night together in your hotel room, Lando can’t seem to get you off his mind

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 7.7k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, sexting, dirty talk gets really super nasty, sending nudes, Lando's so incredibly down bad

PART TWO || PART FOUR

It had been twenty-two days since Lando lost his virginity to you in that Bristol hotel room and ever since, he only thought about you more than he had before. Everything was you as if he couldn’t get enough, having given his trust into the hands of the woman of his dreams, and he was so far past attached that even he himself did not realize the extent of his borderline dependency. He played it cool with you through Instagram dms here and there since your night together and every time he received a notification with your Instagram account handle and a simple little message, he would be grinning ear to ear. 

It had been sixteen days since Lando turned twenty-one. Usually he would message you first since you were still on your book tour and quite busy, but on his birthday you had sent him something early that morning. His only wish was to have more of you…to have all of you, for life. He even made that wish over his birthday cake as he blew out the candles. His sisters took some pictures of him so he could post them for his birthday and you were one of the first people to like them. You made his insides feel so warm and you did so unknowingly. 

It had been three days since Lando moved out of the dorms and back into his parents house. Three days and he was already going crazy. The freedom of the dorms was refreshing but being stuck back at home under his parents’ rules felt suffocating to the now twenty-one year old. Between the curfew, chores, and annoyance from his siblings, Lando was nearly ready to re-pack his suitcase and book a ticket on the next flight out…if only he had more than $14 to his name. His family just didn’t get it. Not like you did. 

“We pay a lot of money for you to go to school and we don’t like seeing you wasting your time and throwing it away.” his mother explained as gently as she could over dinner that evening. 

Lando, elbow on the table and chin in his hand, swatted the last bit of his supper around his plate with his gaze downcast, “I’m not throwing it away.” 

“Well you’re certainly not trying.” his father replied. “Your grades are proof of that.” 

Lando dropped his fork to the plate with a clatter and his three siblings glanced over at him from around the table without a word, listening to him be ridiculed by their parents and waiting for his hostile defences, “It’s not my fault that I’m not as good as the rest of the students! I pull as many late nights as they do but their work is just better.”

“Have you sought out extra help from your professors or the tutoring centre?” his mother offered. 

“God!” Lando tisked in frustration and slouched back in his chair, “I don’t care!” 

“Exactly. You don’t care,” his father agreed seriously, “Your GPA is astronomically low and you’re threatened with academic probation because of it. If you flunk out you will be paying your mother and I back every cent that has gone towards tuition and housing.” 

“This isn’t even what I want to do!” Lando retorted strongly, “I want to, like, go into arts and design…or something.” 

“That’s not a stable career, Lando, come on. We’ve discussed this.”

His mother added, her voice attempting to be gentle, “We went out on a limb with your attempt at the racing and karting stuff and look where that got you? We want to support you, love, but we can’t keep taking financial risks. We still have to get your sisters through university too.”

“What if I had an opportunity to design book covers for a really well known author?”

His family all looked over at him. There was a beat of silence. 

“Do you?” his father inquired, honestly curious. 

Lando dropped his gaze to his plate and crossed his arms over his chest, “Well…not yet.” 

His younger sisters snickered into their forks. 

He glared over at them but recovered quickly at the defence, “But when I met that author that I like at her book signing last month I pitched the offer and she seemed really interested.” 

“Oh my God, here we go.” his youngest sister rolled her eyes. 

“Lando-” his mother started. 

“No, listen-” Lando huffed, “When she gets back to Monaco she’s going to help me get a job…she said so. Something where I can do what I really truly like.”

His parents exchanged flat expressions that had his face falling. 

“She will.” he pressed. 

His father held a hand up to stop him, “You gotta stop living your daydream, son. Come on.” 

“It’s not a daydream!” Lando protested. “Why can’t you guys support me?”

“We don’t want to see you struggling, Lando.” his mother said, “We want you to have a fulfilling life.”

“Yeah, they don’t want you unemployed and living in their basement until you’re middle aged.” his older brother added with a smirk. 

Lando glared over at him, “Says you.” 

Their two sisters “ooo”ed. 

“Regardless of what you think your future is going to look like, you need to better yourself in the present.” his mother continued. 

“Which means focusing more on your degree when the next term comes around…and getting a full time job in the meantime.” his father finished. 

“I don’t want to go back to school.” Lando grumbled. 

“Oh really? What’s your alternative plan?” 

“She’s gonna get me a job-”

“Oh my God.” his middle sister laughed, “You’re dropping her name like you’re besties.” 

Lando clenched his jaw, biting his tongue to smother the dirty truth to answer with the more innocent response, “We talk every day.” 

“She’s being nice.” his mother said gently, “She’s being nice to one of her fans.” 

Lando knew his family didn’t understand but the simple words from his mother sent his heart aching. In all honesty, it had been a few days since you had conversed and Lando had been starting to overthink every reason as to why you had left him on ‘seen’. He could have bet money on the fact that you would never use him and drop him…that your night together was more than just a one night stand…but maybe he was getting too ahead of himself. 

His father only dug the blade farther into his chest, “She is a stranger whom you think you know. She doesn’t owe you anything. She is not going to be your free pass into having a life you don’t need to work for and she is not going to come sweep you off your feet to rescue you from your failing grades. You are twenty-one years old now, Lando, and it’s about time you start acting like a grown man and get your shit together before life runs you over.” 

Lando threw his napkin onto the table and stood up so quickly from his chair that the cutlery rattled on the table when he bumped against it, his throat burning from how he tried to swallow back his anger, muttering under his breath before he stormed off, “I can’t wait to get out of this fucking house.” 

His mother called after him warningly, “Don’t think that just because you’re twenty-one now doesn’t mean we can’t still ground you!” 

Lando took the stairs two at a time and when he turned the corner at the top of the stairs into his bedroom, he slammed the door behind him and locked it. It was a dangerous balance between anger and heartbreak and Lando paced his room while taking a few deep breaths to try and calm down. 

After the freedom that living in the dorms provided, it was hard to return to his house where his parents still ruled. Once he had that taste of independence - a taste of life with you - it was horribly difficult to fit himself back into the little bedroom in which he grew up and grew out of his small suburban town. He didn’t have a bad relationship with his family at all but the reintegration of him back into their house made tensions feel insufferable sometimes. His parents were always on him and he already wanted to escape.

Sitting down on the side of his double bed, Lando pulled out his phone and opened Instagram to send his frustrations to his group chat with his two closest friends. 

landonorris: I need to get the fuck out of this stupid house and get to Monaco like NOW landonorris: I’m gonna lose my fucking mind alex_albon: Oh no what happened  landonorris: My parents are on my arse about school and work and they don’t get it georgerussell63: Don’t get what? landonorris: That I already am on track to get the one thing I want and it’s not being a stupid accountant georgerussell63: You have us for that alex_albon: Yeah we’re always going to support your dreams mate landonorris: I just want HER landonorris: That’s all landonorris: And she promised me a job designing for her books landonorris: It’s going to be real landonorris: It has to be alex_albon: It will be alex_albon: It won’t happen overnight but it will be landonorris: I just want to get out of this house landonorris: It’s so fucking embarrassing living with my parents georgerussell63: Hey we all live with our parents georgerussell63: Are you saying Alex and I aren’t cool georgerussell63: Rude alex_albon: Yeah what the hell mate alex_albon: 🤨 landonorris: Noo it’s different landonorris: You guys aren’t trying to get a self-sufficient borderline famous Monaco woman landonorris: No one like her is going to want some muppet like me who lives at home with his parents  georgerussell63: She clearly does alex_albon: Besides, this is just a temporary stop until you find your own place alex_albon: You’re being resourceful…saving your money georgerussell63: Has she said anything recently? You haven’t told us much these last few days alex_albon: Do we even want to know what she’s been saying? 👀 landonorris: Nothing landonorris: That’s it landonorris: Nothing georgerussell63: Wdym?? landonorris: I messaged her the day I moved back home just to make casual conversation that I moved out of the dorms and she said something like ‘that's nice’ and then when I replied again she just left me on seen alex_albon: Oh georgerussell63: Why?? landonorris: Idfk but I’m stressing so bad over it landonorris: Like what if my parents are right and she just sees me as a fan and nothing more georgerussell63: She took your virginity mate I don’t think she’d be the kind of person to just drop you after that alex_albon: Maybe she’s busy with work. Isn’t she still on tour? landonorris: Her book tour ended yesterday. She should be home now alex_albon: So maybe give her a day or two? Maybe she needs some time to relax after traveling the entire continent of Europe landonorris: Idk landonorris: I miss her georgerussell63: Message her again landonorris: Idk I don’t want to be annoying  alex_albon: Ask for your virginity back landonorris: OMFG georgerussell63: Excuse me mommy can I have my virginity back 🥺🥺🥺🤲🏼🤲🏼🤲🏼 alex_albon: EW GEORGE landonorris: GOEREG STOP georgerussell63: HAHJJKKPFJFJG  georgerussell63: That’s one way to get her to answer you  alex_albon: No that’s how you get blocked landonorris: Lol funny you think I’m the sub tho landonorris: Anyways alex_albon: Pff georgerussell63: Oh yeah with all that experience you have alex_albon: OOF ROASTED landonorris: WOW landonorris: That one night was ENOUGH tbh landonorris: Jeeeezus georgerussell63: Ya those marks you had were fuckin brutal mate alex_albon: In the best way ofc landonorris: YEAH landonorris: I KNOW

Lando flopped backwards on his bed with a smile he struggled to bite back, his worries distracted by his internet friends and the mere memory that was your night together so many days before. 

landonorris: God I miss her so fucking much landonorris: How has it almost been a month georgerussell63: Back to celibacy for you georgerussell63: Rip landonorris: I actually hate it here alex_albon: Just message her  alex_albon: Just a ‘hey’ or something landonorris: Ew that’s cringe alex_albon: ??? How landonorris: Idk georgerussell63: Be like ‘hey how was the rest of your tour’ landonorris: Make me sound any more like a grandma 🙄 alex_albon: Mate georgerussell63: Or tell her you miss her georgerussell63: Girls like that kinda thing alex_albon: Like you would know what girls like 🤨 georgerussell63: 🖕🏼🖕🏼 alex_albon: ‘Hey I’ve been thinking about our night 😏’ landonorris: Brooo landonorris: I wanna sext with her so bad georgerussell63: 😂😂 alex_albon: Oh but just ‘hey’ is cringe okay landonorris: Maybe I’ll send that landonorris: Idk landonorris: Should I? landonorris: Is it too much? landonorris: After being left on seen for two days idk georgerussell63: Go for it georgerussell63: She literally let you come inside her georgerussell63: I think this is nothing compared to that alex_albon: An odd comparison but a valid one there, GR georgerussell63: Hey thanks mate landonorris: Should I?? georgerussell63: Yeah it’s just reminding her that she’s on your mind which is a good thing alex_albon: And it’s not too hot and heavy right off the bat alex_albon: If she responds with something flirty back then who knows landonorris: Or she’ll leave me on seen again and I’ll have to die of embarrassment  georgerussell63: Omg alex_albon: Nah she won’t. Send it georgerussell63: Right now

Lando exhaled deeply and sat up again on the side of his bed as he exited the group chat to find his dm thread with you. It wasn’t too far down on his list since he didn’t talk to many people other than Alex and George and when he opened it up, the little grey ‘seen’ nearly slapped him across the face. He pursed his lips in thought and let his thumbs wave over the keyboard, debating what to say. 

He finally drafted something quickly,

Hey…been thinking about our night recently 

He screenshotted it before he sent it and then shared the image to his group chat. 

landonorris: *sent a screenshot*  landonorris: Is this fine? georgerussell63: Add an emoji alex_albon: Yeah maybe a heart or something

Lando swiped back to his thread with you and added a heart to the end,

Hey…been thinking about our night recently 🧡

He sent that screenshot to the group chat.

landonorris: *sent a screenshot*  landonorris: Maybe? alex_albon: Yes I think that’s good georgerussell63: Yesss now send it landonorris: Ahh idk is that too annoying?  georgerussell63: Blimey mate why are you suddenly all flustered like a teenage girl lol georgerussell63: You’ve literally already slept with her georgerussell63: The hard part is over alex_albon: ^^^ alex_albon: Send it alex_albon: Sendddd it georgerussell63: Send it!!!!

Lando sighed and sat up on his bed again as he exited out of the group chat and opened his thread with you once more. The notifications from his internet friends kept popping up at the top of the screen in silent encouraging cyber chants to get him to send the message. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous exactly. Maybe he had spent too much time dreaming about you that he didn’t want to let one measly message fuck up his one fleeting chance at having you. 

His thumb hesitated over the send button for a moment, debating and overthinking. He got up and paced his room a little, staring at the unsent message and going through every possible situation in his head like it was the last decision he would ever make. With a slightly dramatic huff, he closed his eyes and tapped the send button hurriedly. 

He exited the chat and opened his group chat in a panic.

landonorris: OKAY I SENT IT landonorris: AHHH landonorris: Gonna throw my phone out the window now georgerussell63: GOOD JOB alex_albon: YES georgerussell63: Now we wait 😌 landonorris: For a miracle  georgerussell63: You already had your miracle georgerussell63: That was your night together alex_albon: She’s going to answer Lan dw

Lando didn’t leave his room all night because the concept of facing his family after his slightly immature and dramatic blow up over their inability to see his side of things felt like the worst idea ever. Instead, he dabbled with a few new doodles in his notebook that were infused with thoughts of you and when that got boring, he turned to one of your books for his usual go-to entertainment. His friends were busy with their families and it wouldn’t be until they were ready to sleep that they would reconnect. 

Because of their lack of conversation that evening, Lando was trying to do everything in his power to keep his mind away from his sent message to you. The one that you still hadn’t replied to. The more time that passed the more anxious he got until he had no choice but to dive into your fictional universes as some sort of escape, his phone hiding under his pillow and out of sight. 

His eyes were glued to the page and every carefully printed word as what always happened when he opened one of your novels. The steamy scene in front of him had his hands clutching the hardcover book tightly, spread out comfortably on his bed, and your honest words only brought him back to his own very real recollection of your magical night that you shared almost a month prior. The chapter ended before the scene got too far and Lando huffed and shut the book and tossed it onto his night stand, letting his head rest back against his headboard so he was staring up at the ceiling. 

By that point in the night, it was dark outside and his room was illuminated by only the light of his bedside lamp. He had heard his siblings heading to their own rooms over the prior few hours and eventually heard his parents head to bed too. No one bothered him; probably not wanting to push his buttons with any wrong move. Things would smooth over by morning. 

But Lando didn’t feel at ease at all and it was solely due to the fact that he was scared to death that you were ignoring him. He could only pray that his one message didn’t ruin all that he had dreamt of. 

When the city of Bristol passed into 9pm, Lando checked his phone one last time. Only a few messages from his group chat were waiting for his response. Nothing from you. 

alex_albon: Ok finally done the movie alex_albon: My family wanted to analyze the whole damn thing alex_albon: My sister doesn’t know a thing I stg georgerussell63: Omg we just finished too georgerussell63: I totally demolished my nephew on F1 2021 ngl alex_albon: Ayy the kid didn’t stand a chance alex_albon: Who’d you play as? georgerussell63: Max Verstappen alex_albon: Hell ya les gooo georgerussell63: Did you hear people say he be might be world champion this year?? alex_albon: And beat out Lewis?? Idk… georgerussell63: If my parents had actually let me kart and I made it to F1 I bet I’d be able to beat out Lewis lol imagine alex_albon: Kinky georgerussell63: Ew???? landonorris: George you’d get like 15 points MAXIMUM georgerussell63: That’s so rude alex_albon: Omg Lan hi alex_albon: Did she answer?? landonorris: Nopeee landonorris: I’m gonna kms 😀 georgerussell63: Nooo! georgerussell63: Give her time alex_albon: It’s only been like alex_albon: Three hours… landonorris: Ugh alex_albon: But I gotta sleep  landonorris: Ughhhh georgerussell63: Same georgerussell63: I’m helping my dad run some errands tomorrow so we have to be up early for whatever reason alex_albon: Damn I just have to sleep because I’m tired alex_albon: I’m literally doing nothing tomorrow georgerussell63: Your usual landonorris: Lol alex_albon: Lando you’re so dry its weirding me out landonorris: Sorry landonorris: 🧡 landonorris: Love u mate landonorris: Sleep well alex_albon: Thanks mate alex_albon: Praying that you get a reply by morning georgerussell63: Me too! alex_albon: Love yall georgerussell63: Love u ♥️

Lando locked his phone and tossed it onto his bedsheets, deciding to get himself a snack since he didn’t finish his dinner. It would be at least something to take his mind off his worries. With his family already in their rooms, he could navigate his house without interruption and he tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen silently. 

Glass of water and a handful of chocolate chip cookies in hand, Lando returned to his room and shut the door behind him. One cookie resting between his lips and his hands full with the rest of the stack and his drink, he headed over to his bed once more. His phone screen lit up just as he approached and the notification that was greeting him had the half bitten cookie falling out of his mouth and onto his bedsheets. 

He hurriedly set the glass of water and discarded cookies on his night stand, brushing the crumbs out of his bed as he sat down and re-read the Instagram notification from you. 

-Hey you 💕 I’ve been thinking about it too

Lando unlocked his phone and let his thumbs word a response for him without letting himself overthink it,

landonorris: Was wondering if you forgot about it! Haven’t heard from you in a bit

His message was delivered and opened right away, meaning you were waiting for his response in the chat. That fact had him biting back his bashful smile, but his nervousness still lingered over what your answer was going to be. This could have been the moment you would shut him down for good. 

-Omg never! -Tour ended yesterday and the flight from Miami was crazy…delayed…they lost my luggage…and then after a hefty sleep last night I’ve spent today picking up my retrieved bags and then unpacking and I was just at lunch with my friends

Lando let out an audible sigh in relief,

 landonorris: That’s okay  landonorris: Good to be home? -Very -Tour was fucking incredible but this break is going to be nice  landonorris: Yeah for sure -Did you really think I forgot about you just like that?  landonorris: No I just wanted to make sure you were okay  landonorris: It’s been a few days -You’re a sweetheart -I’m just fine  landonorris: I’m glad 🧡 -But tell me… -What had you wanting to remind me about our night?  landonorris: Nothing in particular  landonorris: Was just missing you a little -A little?  landonorris: …Yes -Mhmm -Well you may keep your pride here all you want but I won’t be afraid to admit that I missed you quite a lot  landonorris: Oh really?  landonorris: You?  landonorris: Miss Monte Carlo? -Oh please -I’m the least Monaco that Monaco can get -And we had something special that night -I don’t throw that around lightly  landonorris: Yeah…  landonorris: Okay…  landonorris: You got me  landonorris: I miss you a lot  -The truth comes out 😌  landonorris: I’ve been re-reading your novels because I miss you :) -Omg really 🥺🥺 -Which?  landonorris: Second novel…chapter eight… -I see 👀 -So that’s what had you thinking about our night 

Lando slouched back against his headboard with a blushing grin that he hid in the material of the collar of his forest green hoodie. He contemplated his response but saw that you were already typing so he waited. 

-Which part were you thinking of most?

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip carefully with what you were smoothly instigating and his mind rushed back to each piece of your night together that had thrived in his memory ever since. He didn’t know how strong to start off so he played it cool,

 landonorris: All of it  landonorris: Kissing in the elevator  landonorris: And in the hotel room -Just kissing?  landonorris: Well you’re an incredible kisser  landonorris: And I fucking loved kissing you -I loved kissing you too -Your lips are so soft  -And your hands on my body felt so good -I miss that a lot -The way you grabbed me  landonorris: I should have done more of that -That’s okay -Next time 🥰

Lando had to toss his phone onto his bed for a second so he could roll over and scream into his pillow out of sheer lustful glee. He was so smitten for you and all his worries were completely erased by the simple reassurance from you that you had been thinking about doing it all again. 

 landonorris: For sure  landonorris: When and where -Sometime this summer maybe -But we can plan later -I want to hear more about what you miss about me first  landonorris: Okay 🧡  landonorris: I miss your body  landonorris: And the way it felt under my hands  landonorris: Your hips…your ass…your tits…  landonorris: So fucking perfect -I swear you’d be so good at body worship  landonorris: Fuck baby I’d gladly worship you anyday -Yeah? 🥰 -How?  landonorris: I want to take your clothes off and kiss over every inch of your body   landonorris: Just breathe you in  landonorris: Trail every curve with my lips or my finger just so every part of you has been touched by me -That sounds so good -And then?  landonorris: You sure you wanna know? -Tell me everything -Don’t hold back  landonorris: I want to spread your legs and taste you -Oh my God  landonorris: Is that okay? -Yeah lol I’m sorry that just made my pussy throb  landonorris: Jesus  landonorris: Did it?? -Yess -I’m an author, words speak wonders to me  landonorris: No pressure lol -Never any pressure with me baby -Tell me more -Just spill your thoughts here  landonorris: I just wanna know what you taste like because I didn’t get to last time  landonorris: You might have to guide me -That’s okay baby -I can lace my fingers in your pretty brown hair and show you where I need you  landonorris: Fuck yes please  -So I can feel your warm tongue all over my pussy -Inside me -On my clit -Feeling you so fucking close  landonorris: I’d kill for your legs over my shoulders right now  landonorris: I really really really want you to show me how to eat you out  landonorris: Making you come on my mouth would be so fucking hot -Yes sir

Lando’s mouth literally fell open in shock, his heart racing in his chest at how quickly this conversation turned exactly to how he had imagined it in his most salacious dreams.

 landonorris: And I fucking loved hearing the way you called me sir  landonorris: That fucking did it for me baby -It was your idea and it was a genius one -It got me off too -Honestly I catch myself moaning out that title when I make myself cum now  landonorris: You think of me? -Yeah I think of you when I touch myself  -Every time  landonorris: Often? -Couple times a week -And right now

Lando blinked at his phone screen in disbelief, trying to picture you in your pricey Monaco apartment and warm in your bed in limited clothing and touching yourself while you spoke with him. His dick twitched in his sweats and he dropped a hand down to palm himself lazily over his growing erection. You sent another message,

-Do you think of me?  landonorris: Always have  landonorris: Only ever you -You’re so fucking cute -God I miss you  landonorris: I’m getting hardddd lol -Good hehe -Are you touching yourself too?  landonorris: Do you want me to? -That’s for you to decide sir -Do you want me to help make you cum?   landonorris: Fuck yes -Okay then strip down and keep talking to me  landonorris: Ok gimme a sec

Lando tossed his phone to the side so he could hurry to push down his pants and boxers in one go, letting them drop to the floor carelessly. His sweater joined the pile, leaving him slouched back against his pillows and the headboard in the warm light of his bedside lamp, his legs spread just slightly. He returned to your conversation, 

 landonorris: Okay  landonorris: What else do you want to know? -Talk to me more about eating me out -Have you thought about it a lot?  landonorris: Yeah baby  landonorris: I dream about it too sometimes  landonorris: I can still hear your gorgeous little whimpers and the way you moan my name and I just want to feel you grinding up against my face and helping me to make you feel so good  landonorris: But I really wanna know how you taste -Want me to describe it?  landonorris: Yes -It’s sweet -But not like candy -It’s more of a warm kind of flavour that tastes salacious -And it drips everywhere and soaks everything -It would get all over your mouth and your chin  landonorris: Fuck  landonorris: I want that  landonorris: And I want to wrap my arms around your thighs so you can’t get away from me and I can feel all of you all over me, just covering me in your wetness  -It’s all for you sir -I’d link my ankles around your shoulders to keep you there too  landonorris: Hands pulling at my hair -Yes please  landonorris: Show me how you want me to touch you  landonorris: Pull me to where you need me -Suck on my clit  landonorris: Whatever you need baby  landonorris: Can I finger you too?  -At the same time pleaseeee  landonorris: I can do that landonorris: My mouth on your clit and two fingers inside you  -Fuck that’d make me moan so loud -Just the idea of your fingers flicking inside me is making my legs shake -I need it  landonorris: How fast? -Slow. I want to make it last  landonorris: Of course  landonorris: And if you’re a good girl for me I’ll let you cum twice -Fuck how can I be your good girl sir  landonorris: Let me have my way with you  landonorris: And show me how good I make you feel with your sweet moans and the way you cry my name  landonorris: You’re so fucking sexy I won’t want to stop -Yes I wanna cum for you -Can I sir  landonorris: I’ll always let you cum baby  landonorris: Just licking and sucking at your pussy with my fingers so fucking deep inside you  landonorris: I bet you taste so fucking good  landonorris: Soaking my face and my hand and the sheets  landonorris: God I’m so fucking hard

Lando glanced down his naked body draped back against his bed to where his dick was resting against his abdomen, already swollen hard and aching for touch. You were taking a bit of time to reply so he reached down to gently rub the tip of his finger up and down along the underside of his cock, watching how his gentle touch made it tense and flinch. He turned back to his phone,

 landonorris: Hello? -Sorry I just had to finish myself off lol  landonorris: Oh-  landonorris: Like right now? -Yeah, you said I could  landonorris: You listened to me? -Yeah?

Lando swelled with pride at that concept,

 landonorris: Good girl  landonorris: Did it feel good? -Would have been better if you were physically here -But yes -It felt really good -Moaned your name when I came too  landonorris: That’s so fucking hot -Now I wanna do more -How do you want to cum?  landonorris: Inside you -Again?  -Dirty boy -I like it -Would you want me to ride you?  landonorris: No I want to fuck you myself  -Go on…  landonorris: Keep you on your back and push your legs open as wide as you can get them and just hold your hips while I push my cock inside your soaking wet pussy -Oh my god I miss that baby -I miss your dick so bad

He was letting lust take over in his messages, typing with one hand as quickly as he could while his other lazily stroked his dick in careful motions. 

 landonorris: Nothing compares to how you feel around me  landonorris: You’re just so fucking warm…so wet -I’m soaked for you -You’d slip in so easy right now  landonorris: Jesus  landonorris: I wish I could see your face when I’m inside you  landonorris: Your pretty eyes just fucking rolling -God you’re so big too what’d you expect  -I’d be fucking drooling for it -I wanna beg for it…have you tease me so fucking slowly until I’m nearly sobbing for you to fuck me harder  landonorris: Will you scratch up my back again for it baby? -I’d do anything you want for your dick

Lando mouthed a swear word to his phone screen, tearing his eyes away for a moment just to look down at his fist wrapped around his cock, the one that you were so persistently fantasizing about in the next state over. His hand was useless compared to how your pussy felt and after he had that glimpse of heaven, it was difficult to go without. Your words certainly helped, even only through messages, and he stroked himself a bit faster.

 landonorris: I’m so hard for you baby  landonorris: I seriously need to fuck you  landonorris: I want to give you all you want and more -Can you take me from the back  landonorris: Yes  landonorris: Whatever you want -What a pleasure dom -You’re such a gentleman  landonorris: Lol just want you to feel good  -I can roll over for you and grind my ass back against your cock until you push it back inside me -You’d get so fucking deep that way -I’m already moaning just dreaming about it  landonorris: Then I can hold onto your hips and fuck you like that -Yes pleaseee  landonorris: Fuck -Can I send a pic?   landonorris: Yes -Ok but no screenshots  landonorris: Promise -*you sent an image*

Lando opened the picture with furrowed brows in intense interest as to what he was about to see. On his screen was the most glorious picture of you he had ever seen, the way you looked on your knees on your bed, fully naked, bent over at the waist so your phone captured your curves in the full-length mirror beside your bed. Lando’s eyes were wide as he soaked you in, licking his lips, and tried to memorize each pixel to keep in his mind forever. He let his lust speak for him in reply,

 landonorris: Fucking hell baby  landonorris: You’re so fucking hot  landonorris: I want to slap that ass so bad  landonorris: Grab those hips  landonorris: Fucking pound you until your gripping the sheets -This pussy is yours sir -My whole body is only yours  landonorris: Do you want a pic of me? -Only if you’re comfortable sending

Lando had never tried before since talking to girls - yet alone engaging in sending nudes - was quite few and far between for him. But he wanted to impress you and the way you tended to gawk over his body made him feel really good and made him hungry for more. He lifted his phone camera up and angled it towards his bare body, staring at himself in the screen as he reached his other hand down to keep a secure hand around his dick, drawing attention right to it. Only slightly self conscious, Lando hesitated for a beat before sending it to you before he could overthink yet another thing. 

He waited while you opened his image and he nibbled at his bottom lip anxiously when you typing bubble popped up in the bottom left of his screen,

-Fuck I think I forgot how big your dick is -You’re stunning -Every inch of you -Holy shit -I want you inside me so fucking bad right now  landonorris: Me too  landonorris: My hand is not the same -I have my vibrator on my clit and my pussy is fucking pulsing for you. It’s just so empty…  landonorris: Jesus fuck  landonorris: I’d fill you up baby -God I know you would -So well too  landonorris: Fuck you until your bed is shaking -Yes sir I want it rough  landonorris: Then you should beg for it -I will -I’ll gladly beg for your cock  -Cry for you to beat this pussy up, spank me, manhandle me -Whatever you want I can take -Fuck me like your own little whore

Lando could hardly formulate a response as the speed at which his hand was pumping his cock had him drawing dangerously close to that sweet pleasurably precipice that anything else seemed like too much of a distraction. He held his phone tightly in his left hand, the messaging thread still open, as his legs laid spread on his bed and his right hand stroked himself off in quick messy motions. 

“Oh my God.” he groaned quietly through his teeth, letting his mind whirl with his memories from your night together and his fantasies of wishing you were with him at that moment. Those thoughts weren’t odd for when he got himself off but this time it was different because even from a timezone away, you were still helping him along. 

-I’m so fucking wet its dripping down my thighs -It’s making the nastiest sounds that would only be so much better if your cock was pounding me from behind

Lando’s hand gripped his phone tighter, eyes focused unwaveringly from your little profile picture and the words you sent just for him to read, a little saucy narrative of your own lust made just for him. He shakily spelt out his encouragement to remind you that he was still there and still so painfully close. 

 landonorris: Keep going -You’re gonna cum aren’t you baby -Thinking about my pussy is gonna make you cum so fucking hard isn’t it? -Letting you fuck me…pound your big dick into me as deep as it can go until I crying for it -Making my fucking legs shake while I scream your name into the bed sheets

Lando read each of your messages so carefully, taking in your every word and transferring it right to the pictures in his mind as a light sweat dusted across his brow. He bit his lip to try and keep himself quiet, smothering his whimpers and groans from his oblivious sleeping family members through the walls. His dick was leaking, trailing precum down the length of it and down to his balls, only slicking up his hand in it to help him pull easier strokes faster and tighter, trying to replicate the feeling of your body the best he was able to. 

-Give it to me sir -Please -I miss you so bad

Lando felt as if he were tingling and he naturally thrusted up into his hand a little, whimpering quietly, dizzy on the fast rising pleasure and the warmth it spread over his body. 

-Send a voice memo of you coming if you’re comfortable baby -Please -I really wanna hear you cum  -I really wanna hear the way you sound when you imagine coming so deep inside me

Lando was already so close that he didn’t even think about it before pressing and holding his thumb down on the audio record button, allowing his phone to capture his every breath and every sound as he finally came for you. He wanted to come inside you so badly that he nearly cried for it, being stuck with only his own touch to work him through his orgasm. His hand stuttered around his dick as the first shot of cum spurted out and fell onto his pelvis, matching the whimpering little gasps that he let out for you in steady waves. 

And he of course moaned your name breathily as he always did, letting his eyes close and his head tilt back to welcome the pleasure that overcame him. He could almost feel you right there and he was desperate to reach out and hold you down on him, aching to give you his everything right then and there. When his thumb lifted from the screen, his recording sent right to you and he watched it immediately turn to “seen” as he kept a tight cum-streaked hand around the base of his throbbing sensitive cock. 

Lando’s chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breathing, his wide blue eyes peering down at the creamy white mess that streaked his hand, his dick, and dotted across his stomach and pelvis. He looked back to your chat as you sent your reply,

-Fuck Lando that was so hot -Oh my God -The way my name sounds when you moan it makes me fucking drip  -You sound so pretty  landonorris: Your words do things to me too  landonorris: Felt so fucking good  landonorris: Wish you were here too though -Me too  landonorris: Did you come again yet? -Yeah lol I got myself off to your audio -It was hard not to  landonorris: And you didn’t record it for me in return?? -Next time 😉  landonorris: Next time you better be with me for real  landonorris: None of this texting shit -Yes sir -I agree -Really miss the feeling of you coming inside me  landonorris: Fuck, me too  landonorris: You’ll have to take plan b again  landonorris: Right? -Of course -But that’s worth it  landonorris: You’re incredible and I honestly can’t believe my luck that I can talk to you like this…have you like this -You’re a sweetheart -I feel the exact same way 💕  landonorris: Wish I could cuddle you right now -Me too 🥺 -And kiss you

Lando reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue to clean himself up, giving him a second to absolutely grin to himself. Oh how he missed you in his arms…the post-orgasm drop off was turning lust into longing quickly. He wiped up the streaks of cum from his body and his hand and disposed of the tissue in the garbage bin beside his bed before returning to your few additional messages as he turned over in bed to cuddle up tiredly. 

-I slept so well with you that night I really miss that -Didn’t know I’d be missing you so much but that week after just had my mind clouded with you and every day since has been filled with wondering when we can see each other next -You’ve really somehow wiggled yourself into my heart and soul Lando Norris and idk how you managed that

It took Lando all of his self control to not tell you he loves you right then and there. He had known you for much longer than you knew him…he had to take it slowly. He had always been hesitant in facing where he stood with you but at that moment, reading your little confession, it just felt like everything was falling into place. 

 landonorris: You’re always the only thing I think about  landonorris: And I am so grateful for you for many reasons I wouldn’t even know where to start if you asked me to -Taking your virginity? 😜  landonorris: LOL yes that especially   landonorris: No one else I would have wanted it to be -I gotta say, you’re certainly not shy over text -Your confidence is sexy -Makes me want to submit to you so bad  landonorris: Donttttt say that or I’ll get hard again -LOL SORRY  landonorris: Tell me more next time 🫣  landonorris: Although I’m probably going to be so shy when we see each other in person again  landonorris: You tend to make me nervous lol -I make you nervous??  landonorris: Yesss you’re my dream girl  landonorris: Ofc you make me all nervous and shy  landonorris: And you make my heart go !!!! -You’re adorable I wanna kiss the fuck outta you so bad rn  landonorris: 🥰🧡 -Gotta get you to Monaco -Gotta get you in my bed  landonorris: Please  landonorris: I literally need that right now -I know you have another term after break but then what’s your summer looking like -Work?

Part of him didn’t want to tell the truth as to what his pathetic summer was looking like but he trust you and you were never one to judge,

 landonorris: Nope  landonorris: No job and living back at my parents place  landonorris: It’s been three days of only winter break and I’m going fucking insane I need to get out of here -Oh my -Would you want an internship or something with my team? Idk if its possible but I can see if I can pull some strings…get you a little summer position at least  landonorris: Oh my god baby I’d love that -Haha okay lover 💕 let me see what I can come up with for you -We’re gonna get you out of this low  landonorris: God I miss you so much  landonorris: You’re fucking incredible  -Anything for you 😘  landonorris: 😘😘 -I’m still pretty jet lagged so I might head to sleep now  landonorris: Ok gorgeous   landonorris: This was fun :)  -Hehe it really was -If we can’t wait until we see each other in person then maybe we should try a phone call next time  landonorris: Fuck I’d say yes except these walls are super thin and I don’t want my parents and siblings to hear every detail about how I want to bend you over your desk and fuck the shit outta you -Fuck offfjffjjfjfjf oh my gosh  landonorris: What?? -You’re making me blush go away 😂  landonorris: 😜 -I seriouslyyyy gotta sleep  landonorris: Yes you do  landonorris: Sleep well baby -You too 💕 I’m gonna imagine you’re cuddling me the whole time  landonorris: Wish I could 🧡🧡 -💕💕

Lando laid there for a little bit, just staring at your little pink hearts with a lovesick grin on his face, still giving his heart a chance to calm down after the events of the previous hour. He scrolled back up your conversation and screenshotted the last little bit of your saucy conversation, starting from his audio recording attachment down to your shared conclusions and then he scrolled back down to your promise of a job. The two most important things to share with his best friends for when they woke up. 

 landonorris: *sent a screenshot*  landonorris: Just made her cum twice over text so anyway how's your nights going 😌  landonorris: *sent a screenshot*   landonorris: And she’s going to help me get the fuck outta this place   landonorris: Get you a girl that can do both  landonorris: I love her so much  landonorris: I can’t wait for the day I can tell her that  landonorris: Good night guys  landonorris: Talk tomorrow 🧡

Tag List: @black-fireproofs @k3nmakyan @m4rt10ne @strawberryy-kiwii @herebereblogs @arieslost @ophcelia @cmleitora @saachiep81

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

[silkscream]

bullfight of love

ੈ✩ choso x reader

ੈ✩ tags: flirting, masturbation, porn watching, vaginal sex, riding, soft sub!choso, 2000s au, coworkers, workplace relationship, film bro stuff

ੈ✩ wc: 4.7k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wanted to write choso being a weirdofreak pervert boy that's all. this is part of my fics for gaza <3 there will be a part two for this. do not ask me about a part two because it's already being made

Maki could kill you for being late again. Five missed texts, the final exaggerated with periods and exclamation points – and she never used proper spelling, let alone punctuation. It wasn't serious the way she made it out to be. 

Toji never cared about your track record. The bastard was never in the shop anyway, probably high off his ass in whatever shed of a place he lived in. Maki already hated her cousin enough for the rest of the crew, running that stupid video store like it was a real family business. It was a summer job to you and nothing else.

She sighs when she sees you walk through the door, handing you your name tag without a word before fucking off to the storage room to look at the new shipments.

“Don’t give me the silent treatment!” you yell after her. In response, you only get a middle finger, chipped black nail polish with half a skeleton decal hanging on.

It’s always slow on Mondays. Considering the new cinema that opened across the street, it's slow every day. You should’ve taken a job there, scooping buckets of buttered popcorn instead of telling off porn-stached men who continually mistook the shop as the old adult video store. 

You mindlessly watch Reservoir Dogs on the CRTV, shaken by the sudden flood of middle school students paving their way to the used video game section. Fumbling with the remote, you meet a hard-faced Maki once again. 

“You can’t put on Tarantino, dude. Kids are in here.”

“It was already on,” you shrug. 

Maki rolls her eyes and points to a small stack by the register – some John Hughes VHS tapes. Sixteen Candles. The Breakfast Club. Most shit that both of you hated.

“Gotcha.”

“Can you deal with the new kid, today? Toji didn’t scan all the new shit in like he was supposed to last week.”

“New kid?”

“Uh, yeah. Goth-ish. Like he got spit out of a Hot Topic or something,” she snorts. “No hazing.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

She scoffs at you before rushing back. You’d had a crush on her when you started working there, back when she still had an eyebrow piercing before she let it get infected. She had that Silent Hill look about her for lack of better words. Resting bitch face with a raspy pout. 

Your head swims a little, pounding from dehydration. The morning joint didn’t help, either, nor did the fact that you had to train a newbie today. 

It’s quiet after the kids leave, snatching up some forbidden R-rated movie that’ll traumatize them during a basement sleepover. You nearly doze off once the clock hits three, but loud footsteps bring you back to life. 

A boy that couldn’t be much older than you stares into you, narrowed eyes boring into your soul. You see the dark birthmark across his nose first, as if someone had slashed him with a blade in one straight swoop. He smells like cigarettes and his eyes are decorated with some reddish eyeshadow. Either that or he had the complexion of a sickly Victorian child. 

“Hey,” you deadpan. “Can I help you?”

“I’m the new hire,” he says. His voice is low. He reminds you of the goths that would hit on you at high school parties. He's prettier, though. 

You give him a once-over quickly – he’s taller than you expect, for some reason, and you notice the blooming swirls of abstract tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” you smirk. 

He rolls his eyes and introduces himself. Choso. You repeat his name, tasting it on your tongue. He has half a mind to shake your hand but pulls away awkwardly. You take note of the silver rings adorning his fingers.

You tilt your head. “I like your, uh, space buns…”

“Uh, thanks,” he narrows his eyes.

“Okay, so… have you ever used a cash register?”

“Yes.”

“Great. That’s basically half the job.”

You show him the ropes – how to make sales and deal with teens. Cash drops and tracking inventory. You ask him what attracted him to the idea of working at a run-down video store and he says he likes movies and easy money. His brother liked the place, too. 

“You got the Human Earthworm series, boss?” he drones, bored.

“Yeah, think so. You like romance-horror or just terrible practical effects?”

He snorts. “My little brother likes it. Wants to have a marathon with me.”

“Cute.”

Hours pass and he’s gotten the hang of it. If anything, there are more customers than usual today, because you suppose that Choso is conspicuous in appearance and the teenage girls that hang around at the food court need something new to play with. 

It stirs something uneasy in your gut, the waft of saccharine perfume in the air. Girls with tongue piercings, lollipops staining their lips as they bend over the counter to talk to Choso. Ripe girls.

They probably thought he could buy them alcohol, take them for a joyride. He’d only offer them an aloof, blank stare in return. It makes you almost giddy. By the time night comes around, you tell them to fuck off like flies.

“Closing time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Choso mock-salutes, an amused smirk on his lips. Half-lidded eyes like a cat, maybe a stoner, though he didn’t smell like it. You saw him on his break anyway, sipping down an Asahi Super Dry in the back as if you weren’t looking.

He already knew his place, knew that you wouldn’t rat him out. It was the way something flickered in his eyes when you caught him. A taunt, a quiet challenge. 

You watch him count cash. Chipped black fingernails looked odd on his veiny hands like they were painted in a rush by a child. You notice scrawled pen on his pale skin. Smudged phone numbers.

“Getting hit on already?”

He glances at you and shrugs, hiding a smile. “Half were just from bored teenagers. Other half bored single mothers.”

“Any takers?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You narrow your eyes. 

“Ha. Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not,” you snort. “As long as we get customers I guess.”

“Oof. You’re cold. You don’t care how I get these people to buy these movies as long as they buy ‘em, huh?”

“You’re not whoring yourself out by being a cashier. Relax.”

He shrugs on his jacket. Crumpled leather, the kind that held the smell of smoke over generations. It made him look like Takuya Kimura in that way, maybe if his hair was down.

He grins when he finds you staring.

“We done for the night, then, boss?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname. “Uh-huh. Night, newbie.”

He smiles sardonically, looking out and noticing the rain. He curses inwardly, knowing that skating home would be a bitch, and the next bus to his side of town wasn’t for another half hour. He clears his throat.

“Leaving already?”

“Yeah. What, don’t have a ride home, kiddo?”

“Fuck off. I’m not a damn kid. I’m just not someone with a car,” Choso mutters dryly. “I work at a movie rental place for a living. I take the bus everywhere.”

“Sucks to suck then,” you smirk, saluting him goodbye. You throw him the keys. “I trust you to lock up then, yeah? See ya.”

He lets out a frustrated scoff but doesn’t bother to convince you, opting to watch you go. Once you’re out of reach, he sighs and turns, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking around the dim store. 

Yuuji was probably out with that sea urchin–haired punk again. He had to remind himself to save up for a car instead of constantly having to share their parents’ beat-up Toyota.

He could take advantage of the shitty TV in the office, maybe. Watch a stupid re-run while he waits, because he sure as hell isn’t going to wait out in the rain. He walks in and settles on the black leather couch straight out of an amateur porno. He snorts and looks through a fat stack of DVDs in the corner. 

His mouth twists when he picks up something with a racy title. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s an adult film.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, scoffing. He lets out a low whistle, glancing around the office as if someone’s out there, ready to jump him. It’s eerily quiet. He can’t even hear the pitter-patter of rain from in here.

He skims the back cover. It looks crude, but Choso has never really been one to turn down something raunchy. He liked stupid movies, gory ones, art films with weird unsimulated sex. He’d gotten off to In the Realm of the Senses when he was thirteen. Skimming through something this cheap shouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t arouse him — it would be as entertaining and silly as watching a sitcom for him.

He inserts the disc into the DVD player and waits for it to load. There are no cameras in the office, he notices. Figures. The way you talked about the owner made it seem like the place was barely being held together if not for you.

And then, he thinks of you. He immediately thought you were pretty, not that he’d ever let you know that. Plainer than his usual type, but something was alluring about the curve of your mouth, the way you spoke. He liked that you didn’t take shit most of all. It was probably the hottest thing about you.

He knew better than to fuck around with a coworker, however. It never ended well and resulted in petty drama. He was too old for that shit, wasn’t in high school anymore — he was a man.

When the intro to the film finally loads, a woman in a skimpy, barely-there dress appears on the screen. It’s something vintage, for sure, given the grain. She’s in a love hotel. 

Choso fast-forwards through blurs of messy kissing, colored lights illuminating a heart-shaped tub. He pauses on a frame of the girl riding, her mouth wide open in ecstasy. He presses play.

After about ten minutes, he finds himself in a trance watching with rapt attention at the way the actress moves. His cock twitches when he realizes that she looks a little too much like you. 

She moans particularly loudly and his mouth parts. Something snaps inside of him. 

He has to pause it again. Jesus.

Choso feels like a pervert. No, he’s a man with urges, needs. It’s a pure coincidence that the actress in the porno looks like you of all people. It’s not like he sought her out himself. A movie like this shouldn’t even be in here.

He grits his teeth, hands clenching around the couch leather until his knuckles are white. He takes a breath before pressing play again and his eyes widen when the girl gets even louder.

Ah, fuck it.

He mutters under his breath, shifting on the couch. Glances at the blowjob lips on the screen, soft and plush. He thinks of you and swallows. He bites his cheek, conflicted.

Maybe he shouldn’t.

Then again, no one has to know.

He lets out a shaky exhale, trying to resist the pressure building inside him. It feels like trying to contain a geyser with a cup, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. 

After contemplating for a beat, he sighs and unbuttons the fly of his jeans, using his other hand to press play again. A gasp escapes his lips as he watches the girl on the screen. The curve of her back, the bounce of her tits. She looks soft. He wonders if you’d be as —

No. No. He’s not doing that.

He spits in his hand and strokes himself, his breathing starting to come out in short, uneven pants. There’s a rush of heat in his gut as he watches. His head tilts back slightly, eyes roaming the ceiling before closing them as he attempts to calm himself down. It’s no use.

His breath hitches, eyes glued to the screen. He’s memorized by the slick flowing out of her. Fuck, he hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. It’s killing him.

It’d be okay if he pretended it was you. It’s not like you would find out. He could imagine fucking your face the way the guy was doing right now in the video, making the bitch gag and moan. Whimpering at being called a good girl. 

“Oh, god–” he mutters, his voice a strangled gasp. She really did look like you. Disturbingly so. When he’s done, he’ll have to wash his hands for five minutes straight from the shame. 

He pants, his grip on himself firm as he squeezes his shaft. Precum smears over his tip and he groans at the sound of the woman’s whimpers getting louder and louder. It makes his lungs seize. He’s getting close.

He doesn’t even register the jingling of the doorknob.

Choso’s head jerks up, his eyes widening in shock as his head turns to see you in the doorway blinking at him. 

“Oh.”

His throat’s dry. What a cruel fucking joke from the universe. There’s no coming back from this. Not when the video’s still going and he’s still half dressed, hand on his fly in mortification.

You tilt your head, smirking. “Nice cock.”

Choso’s at a loss for words, staring at you with embarrassment and utter daze. What the fuck?

“I, uh…” he chokes out, his voice rough and more high-pitched than usual. Face burning. 

He’s going to get fired. No – he has to quit before you even get another word in, save the little dignity he has, maybe convince Yuuji to move to another shitty town with him so he never has to see you again —

“Forgot my wallet,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

You walk into the room, peering at him. Your eyes fall on the TV, which is still going. The moans feel cheap and tacky now that he’s back in reality. 

Choso scrambles to press the stop button on the remote, his other hand moving to put a pillow on top of his leaking dick. His eyes flicker wildly between your face and the screen.

“You find that in here?”

“Uh… yeah… I, um—”

You snort. “Forgot to tell you that this used to be an adult video store.”

“That explains the selection,” he mutters sheepishly. 

You eye him carefully. He blushes. “Didn’t finish?” you taunt.

He feels too fucking humiliated to say anything, so he mutely nods instead. He fumbles with the zipper of his jeans underneath the pillow.

“Need some help?”

He gapes at you for a moment before looking away. You look amused as you scan his face. Was he hearing you correctly? Was he dreaming?

“Are you— are you offering?” he gasps out, dumbfounded. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that in here.”

Choso’s jaw drops. 

He stares at you for a moment at a loss for words. Curiosity begins to win out over embarrassment.

“With… who?”

“None of your business,” you chuckle.

He doesn’t like that answer. His jaw clenches, knowing that it’s stupid that it hurts his ego a bit for no reason at all. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t press the issue as his gears turn back to your previous offer.

“Then you… uh… want to…? With me?”

“You want to, right?”

He swallows nervously, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks at your body shamelessly for a bit. He’s still so fucking hard. Finally, he nods shyly.

“Okay. Take your clothes off, then.”

For a moment, he wants to protest. This is the last thing he expects from you. Maybe it was a blackmail situation — if he doesn’t let you fuck him, would you fire him? 

He realizes that he doesn’t care either way if he gets to fuck you.

He pushes his jeans down with his boxer briefs, shoves the pillow in his lap away with a blush. Slowly, he strips off his t-shirt, leaving him completely exposed. He can feel your gaze on him, raking his chest and arms, the tattoos on his skin. He looks up at you again almost desperately. 

“I meant it,” you drawl. “You do have a nice cock.”

“Th-thanks…” he croaks. 

“Why so nervous?” you tease. “You were flirting with me all day.”

“Yeah, but–” he mutters, huffing defensively. “I didn’t think you’d actually—”

“Wanna fuck you?” you finish for him.

You say it so bluntly that it catches him off guard. He hadn’t really given it too much thought. You were somewhat receptive to his advances if he could call it that. It was mostly him being himself. His sarcasm was meant to be flirting, but none of it was that serious. He found you hot and interesting. He liked that you could keep up with him. 

When he started touching himself with you in mind, everything was thrown out the window. He wanted you, and would probably dream about you when he got home, but the guilt and shame of doing something so depraved in his place of work made him embarrassed. He wouldn’t have been able to face you on his next shift, and then you decided to barge in and ruin everything. 

And now, you’re offering yourself to him on a silver platter. It was absurd.

He narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

“I think you’re hot. Isn’t that enough?” 

“You… you actually wanna… uh–”

“Yeah, Choso,” you roll your eyes. “I wanna fuck you.”

He shifts on the couch, eyes roaming hungrily over your body as his breaths grow labored. He swallows a lump in his throat.

“Then… do it,” he mumbles.

You grin, moving to straddle his lap. His hands flex and he has to remember to not appear so eager. This is just a casual hookup with a coworker. One born out of bizarre circumstances, sure, but he needs to play it cool. He grips the edge of the couch.

“Don’t wanna touch me?”

He feels even more meek, if that was possible. He hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows. He’d had girls in his lap before. Bouncing them on his cock until they cried. For some reason, he feels like the submissive one here just because you’re on top of him. 

“Uh,” he stammers. His voice is quiet, nervous. You think it’s cute. “I didn’t know if I was, uh, allowed to—”

“Go ahead.”

He holds back from kissing you. Instead, he smoothes his large hands over your hips, the curve of your waist. He lifts his hands to the edge of your shirt and hooks his fingers into the hem, slowly tugging it upwards. The reveal of skin is tantalizing, makes his mouth water like a man stranded in a desert. 

Sparks jolt the length of his spine as his fingers brush over the bare skin of your stomach. Fuck, you’re soft. He knew you would be. He pulls the shirt over your head and ogles stupidly at your chest. 

“Someone’s worked up,” you tease, playing with his hair. You undo his buns, leaving his hair down.

“Of course I am,” he mutters, his voice strained. “You’re sitting on my lap, looking like that—”

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes widen. 

“Please,” he breathes. It almost comes out like a desperate whine. “I mean— yeah—”

You raise a brow, laughing. It makes his face heat up down to his neck. 

“Begging already? Thought you’d be more of a dominant type.”

You’ve thought about me?

“I— I am,” he grumbles. 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you prove it later.” You lean in.

“Promise?” He looks at you with something eager in his gaze and your eyes soften. 

“Mhm.”

Finally, he captures your lips with his. You sigh into it and it makes his cock throb underneath you. He takes that as an invitation, his tongue immediately pushing past the plush of your lips. He reaches up to grab the back of your head and tangles his fingers in your hair as if he’s done it all before. It makes you moan a little in his mouth.

He moans back, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. You pull back slightly, leaving him to chase your lips for a moment as he lets out a small huff of protest. When you look at him, his eyes are half-lidded, lips slightly parted and shiny with spit.

“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. “Real pretty.”

He flushes, unable to form words. His expression immediately floods with disappointment when you get off his lap to stand. 

“Where are you going?” His voice would be whiny if it wasn’t so gruff from desire. 

“Relax, idiot.” You unbutton your pants, sliding them down slowly. He assumes you’re teasing him, which he doesn’t particularly mind. You’re a sight to behold. His cock twitches as his eyes look at your smooth thighs. 

“Get over here,” he huffs. You laugh, moving to straddle him. 

He doesn’t have time to react before you lean in to immediately nip at his neck. He lets out a moan, hips bucking involuntarily. You can feel his pulse quickening, the vibration of his moans underneath your lips. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. His fingernails dig into the meat of your waist. 

He can’t stay still. It takes him everything in him to not rock his hips up into you. It doesn’t help that he can already feel your wet heat hovering over his cock. His brain nearly short-circuits. He preens under you, grabbing at you like you’re going to fly away. 

“Be patient. Wanna play with you first,” you mumble.

Choso’s eyes flutter closed as you speak. You sound so fucking sexy right now, he can’t stand it. It’s better than the stupid filler plot he scrubbed through in that damn porno. Miles better. 

“Play with me,” he grits. “Fuck — later.”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot you were pregaming this before I walked in.”

He glares at you. It’s entertaining watching the expression melt off his face when you lift your hips and immediately slam down on him. The moan he lets out is guttural. His hands immediately find your hips.

“Hah – fuck,” you breathe. “You’re bigger than you look.”

Choso lets out a strangled chuckle, head falling back on the couch. It makes him look even hotter, the way his tattoos flex with his collarbone. 

“Told you I wasn’t a kid.”

Your laugh tapers off into a moan when he gives a small, tentative roll of his hips. Testing the waters. You’re so fucking tight that it’s making it hard for him to even think. When he hears you gasp at being filled by him completely, his eyes widen.

“Shit,” he gasps. “Wanna make you do that again—”

“H-Huh?”

His eyes lock on your face as he grins, grinding into you slowly. 

“That noise–” he groans, his throat taut and dry. “You made this little gasp—”

“Ah–”

“There it is,” he snickers. His eyes gleam. “Just like that.”

Your eyes roll back, mirroring the roll of his cock inside you. Your cunt clenches around him and it feels like fucking heaven. He can feel all your wetness drool into his lap. He had the urge to push you into the leather, cant his hips up like something rabid. 

It feels like his brain was going to fall out of his nose, the head rush in tandem with the blood pumping into his cock. Impossible tightness. Snug cunt, petals closing into a bud. 

When you wrap your arms around him, it almost feels romantic. It’s dangerous.

He kisses you, then. Quivers when he feels you getting lost in it, tasting nicotine in your swapped spit. He whimpers as you start to move your hips with more intention. You smile wryly at his reaction, pulling away, eyes fixed on where your bodies meet.

You’re a fucking wet dream while you’re riding him. The way your hair brushes messily over your jawline, the way your mouth parts with a gasp every time he feels you pulsate on his cock. Choso grabs your ass greedily and kneads it, mesmerized at the softness of your flesh. 

“God, you look so fucking good right now—”

His eyes flash as he watches you move. He tries to match your tempo, rutting up into you with frenzied effort. His cheeks are flushed as he nearly unravels himself for you, his expression raw and hungry. He leans in to suck on your tongue, descending his wet mouth down to your jaw, your tits. Oral fixation.

You can feel him deep in your stomach, buried in you. It’s as if he could pierce you through the throat. You’re sure that you’ll ache everywhere by the time you get home. You’d never taken a cock quite this big, never been this wet, your insides swirling around like a washing machine. Your guts all muddled with something that felt too warm for just lust.

“So fucking hot,” he mumbles, hands pressing into your bare thighs. 

All his preoccupations with you had disappeared. He didn’t care if you thought he was a pervert, since you were one too, in a way. Letting him fuck you like this when he barely knew you at all, yet a repressed part of his brain made his heart flutter at the thought of you. It didn’t help that he could practically feel your heartbeat with his cock.

It isn’t romance — it has to be the sex. He can’t think about it too much right now. Not when he’s in a state of delirium inside your cunt.

“Choso, I’m close,” you whine.

“Yeah?” he rasps. “Fuck, me too.” 

His hair is tousled and sticky. Eyes glazed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He grabs at your hips, guiding them to grind on him faster. Your wetness makes it all so smooth — all buttery, no resistance. You feel full.

He feels like he’s being squeezed to death, to heaven. It sends him over the edge at the same time he feels your pussy clench around him. You tremble in waves as you gasp out a moan. It’s more like a choked breath. He can’t stop watching you as you come, the way your eyes roll back. 

A whine escapes his throat as he cums. Everything that seeps out is slick, feels like something new and primordial at once. Seraphic, he’d say, if he happened to be drunk. He certainly feels drunk.

Choso doesn’t expect you to kiss him so sweetly after such a vulgar affair. He lets out a long exhale into your mouth with eyes closed, letting his head fall back a little while your hands cup his cheeks. His body is all melted limbs, languid sex. 

“Jesus,” he mutters. 

“Hey.”

He opens his eyes and gazes at you through sleepy lids. He lifts a hand lazily, brushing the hair away from your face.

“Yeah?”

“Did you pick an actress that looked like me on purpose?”

He freezes. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks away.

“No,” he scoffs. “Just thought she was hot—”

You chuckle.

“I didn’t pick it, I found it,” he gruffs. “I’ll admit that… she looks like you… I guess.”

“Was I as good?” 

He scoffs again, his eyes flashing with a mix of playfulness and irritation. You were as much of a little shit as he was.

“You’re better,” he rolls his eyes. “I already told you what I think, dumbass. Real pretty.”

“Oh, did you?”

There’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I’d be pretty pissed if you weren’t better than some stupid video—”

“Idiot. Those girls are probably like, Olympians at fucking. Porn isn’t like real sex anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grins. He pauses for a moment, suddenly looking timid. “It’s just… a decent placeholder for when I… y’know.”

“Just call me next time.”

Choso’s eyes widen slightly, unable to hide his surprise. He sputters for a second.

“What? I’m, uh— not gonna call you every time I—” he groans, “That’ll be way too many times.”

You raise a brow.

“Wait, no— that came out wrong. I’m not some horny freak or something—”

“I mean, given how I found you…”

“That’s—” he stammers, unable to complete a sentence without his brain completely blacking out every millisecond. “That was a one-time thing.”

“Hope so. I don’t wanna fire you, newbie,” you grin.

His pulse quickens at your smile. 

“Like hell, you will. You’re too understaffed to fire me.”

PART TWO

[hoshinasblade]

second best |2| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2.5K trigger warnings: author's note: hello, reposting the part 2 because of hiccups from saturday when i posted it first (tumblr blocked my blog lol). likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated but please do not copy or steal my works. in celebration of this blog reaching 100 followers recently, i have written a bonus part 3 which will be posted within this week. my taglist form is here, and feel free to let me know your thoughts by sending me an ask through here. using my degree correctly by writing hoshina fanfics yes

you aren't sure when things changed between you and hoshina soshiro.

when you were young, you would have understood that he didn't have the attention span to deal with you. he wasn't exactly shy, but you wouldn't call him friendly too - unlike you, who has taken it upon herself to be friends with all the children in the small neighbourhood. unfortunately for you, only the hoshina brothers are at the same age as you are, and at that time you thought that was a sign that fate was giving - you ought to be close to them.

you won't deny that you were fonder of the hoshina brothers than anyone when you started school. if you are being honest, you like them more than any of your expensive dolls or toys. being an only child, you thought it was only natural to want someone to be with - to want someone to share things with.

the brothers would have their endless training sessions every day, and though you did not know how to swing a sword then, you insisted to your parents - and theirs - that you must join them. sometimes you would be sitting on the floor just watching them, and frequently you would be the one keeping count of the score between soshiro and soichiro when they spar.

soshiro has never won a single match against his brother when they were kids.

but you didn't mind. you still preferred him over soichiro.

in fifth grade, you bought him the biggest cake your meagre savings could buy. it wasn't much really, but you won't forget how wide his eyes went when you lighted the candles and sang him the happy birthday song albeit out of tune. the next year, you gifted him a small keychain - a teddy bear in a purple kimono. you never saw him use it.

it wasn't until years after that you worked out what your feelings for him were. the girls from your class would make small talk and ask if you have a boyfriend now and then. you would say no all the time. at sixteen, you felt like you didn't need to be in a relationship - because you have soshiro, you said to yourself - and that was when it hit you.

every time soshiro would talk to you after that, you would peek in your little compact mirror, worried he had miraculously discovered your secret, afraid that maybe your face had given it away. he caught you doing that once, and he accused you of attempting to be pretty for him.

"is it me ye're trying to be cute for?" he volunteered to carry your bag on your way home but you declined. you didn't want to start assuming things; you knew he was just being nice.

"ya wish," you deflected effectively.

"well, whoever it is for, they're in for some trouble", he commented, and you chose not to read too much in his words. you realized how the walk to your house always seemed to be shorter when you were with soshiro.

when you turned eighteen, you asked your mom what it meant to be in love. she was the last person you had wanted to ask - your parents had broken their perfect marriage not long ago, your father choosing to abandon your mother and you. soshiro taught you the basics of kendo during those hard months. "i'll even let ya beat me", he said to you.

"it's when you care for them so much that you will go as far as to let them go because you wanted them to be happy," your mother answered.

soshiro did not have the decency to say goodbye when he left himeji. you wanted to celebrate with him, and it wasn't like you weren't familiar with his plans to move after graduation. you used to stay up late with him, and inevitably the conversation would steer to his dream of getting out of your town. he would say that it's to expand his horizons - for his growth - but you like to give yourself some credit because you know him too well to simply believe that. you can tell that he needs a place to stretch his wings and be the best - somewhere he can be better than his brother.

and maybe you are really your mother's daughter - you let hoshina soshiro go because you thought it would make him happy.

"vice-captain, platoon leader said ye're needed at operations." you saluted and walked inside his office. "get yer ass in there, were the exact words actually," you added, intending it to be a joke.

soshiro didn't even look up from the file he had been staring at since you came in. he's been like this for days after you were sworn in the defense force. you would bump into him in the hallways of the training building or sit at the same table with him for lunch, and he wouldn't speak to you at all. if you didn't know better, you would think that finally, after all these years, he is now aware of your feelings. but that would be impossible, because not only the other recruits would not dare to rat you out, but also because soshiro would not be acting this way if he knew.

"v-vice captain?" you repeated.

soshiro hummed. "i heard ya the first time, officer," he said, his glance on you so cold you felt it from where you stood. it wiped off the smile you were wearing that morning.

"ya can go," he said once more after he noticed you didn't move. "or d'ya need anything else from me?"

"no, vice-captain." you were almost out of the door when you remembered something else. "one more thing, hoshina-san," you faced him again, the way you said his last name soft against your own lips. "soichiro-kun will be visiting again tomorrow so we can go to himeji together -"

"do ya belong to the sixth division?" soshiro cut you off. "i didn't know ya transferred."

"i - i'm not -" you were still trying to look for the appropriate response when he interrupted you again.

"then why are ya spending so much time with him? d'ya wanna move to his jurisdiction?" soshiro is standing now, whatever he was reading earlier long forgotten.

it was difficult to reconcile this distant man in front of you with the boy you used to chase after during your childhood days. the one who would bring you an extra boxed lunch because you told him before that his bento tastes so much better than yours. the boy you fell in love with. you had both grown up, and taken different paths at a time, yes, but you did not expect to struggle so badly to find common ground with him. "im sorry, vice-captain, i'll be off now." it felt like a huge chasm had opened in the middle of the room that determined to keep the two of you worlds apart. you turned to leave, and you heard him mutter something.

"if ya wanted to keep going on dates with my brother, ya shouldn't have gone here."

there is only one thing sharper than his katana and it is hoshina soshiro's mouth.

pain swirled inside you, threatening to spill over. when you couldn’t keep the turmoil in any longer, you snapped.

"what is yer problem?!" your pitch reached a high octave that soshiro was shocked at the outburst. "did i do anything? cause yer being mean, soshiro," you pressed on, stepping closer to him. it didn't escape him how you dropped the title off his name, and the honorifics, too. he was about to respond, but you didn't give him the chance. "look, i know yer not on good terms with soichiro-kun, but he’s my friend."

"like i needed to be reminded." sarcasm coated his retort. "ya know what? ya can marry the guy and i won't even care. do whatever ya want", he said, dismissing you in a harsher tone

your forehead scrunched and your eyebrows met in confusion. "what are ya talkin' about? no one is getting married -"

soshiro's laugh was bitter. you recoiled at the offensive sound. "i'm not the one going around telling everyone she's in love with soichiro-kun.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you were suddenly afraid that this conversation is unfolding into something else entirely. “i never said that,” you protested. “i never told anyone i was in love with him. i don’t know where you’re getting this from.”

soshiro’s expression remained stoic and unreadable. “i heard you say it at the izakaya”, he murmured.

breath was knocked out of your lungs and panic started to rise within you. “i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you repeated. you tried to rewind every second of what happened in the party thrown for the new officers nearly a month ago. everyone was drinking and having a good time after the sworn-in ceremony. commander ashiro and the vice-captain had to leave ahead. your fellow newbies grilling you on your history with hoshina soshiro.

“save it.” hurt was evident in soshiro’s voice; his eyes glimpsed at you briefly, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher flicker. soshiro’s expressionless mask faltered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. although you don’t have a clue how he would have heard it when he went with commander ashiro that night, the desire to straighten things out overtook you.

for a split second, the burden of the truth hangs heavily on your tongue. you gave in to the desperation.

“i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you reiterated, hoping he would understand this time. “because it’s you i’m in love with.”

there were multiple occasions in the past where you almost admitted what he meant to you; you had pictured a thousand scenarios in your head where you declared your love, but all of them did not include the part where soshiro would respond.

you thought confessing would ease the ache in your heart, but it was the opposite. "i didn't know how to tell ya, and that's my fault. but how could i? ya didn't even bother to say goodbye to me when ya left home." it was taking everything of you to hold your tears back, and ignoring the obvious tremble in your voice, you continued. "did ya know i taught myself how to pray after ya were gone? i thought it was the only thing i could do for ya."

"i didn't know", was all soshiro could say. he looks in distress, still grappling with your bold confession.

a loud knock on the door broke the tension. “vice-captain, they made me fetch you,” okonogi said from the hall.

“well, now ya do.” you turned away just when soshiro strode towards your direction, running after you. you were faster than him, and despite the possibility that you would be seen coming from the vice-captain’s office crying, you twisted the doorknob and ran.

it is still hot when you sit down on a bench at the rooftop of the third division's training building.  you welcomed the cool breeze, however, and you noted that at this altitude, everything from far away looks considerably smaller.

you missed two important briefings this afternoon already, and your team is most certainly searching frantically for you everywhere. you are definitely going to be scolded by your superior. yet you couldn’t bring yourself to discard the little comfort being alone had given to you, especially after such an emotional confrontation. you sighed, exhaustion slowly crawling all over you. lost in your thoughts, you did not notice the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar voice tore through the silence. the cold breeze blew, making you shiver a bit.

“hey,” soshiro called out. you freaked out, immediately looking for a space to hide at. “i already saw ya,” he let you know.

he held out a keychain in front of your face, a tiny bear in a faded purple kimono with the string attached to its head dangling from his forefinger. you recognized it instantly - you got it for him when he turned 12 years old. he sat beside you, not concerning himself with asking for your permission.

“the first few days were the hardest”, he began, and you listened. “i was too used to seeing ya every day, but when we were apart, i convinced myself i would forget how ya look like. i didn’t.” he offered the keychain to you and you took it - the bear’s fur worn out and old to your touch. “i hold that thing whenever i start to miss ya.”

shock was etched on your face and your gaze darted to him. “is it too late now to say that i love ya?” he whispered, his face mirroring the sincerity of his tone. sunlight bathed the rooftop as soshiro’s words hung in the air, leaving you breathless and stunned. you gasped. “maybe i should have told ya sooner. but i have been in love with ya for a while now.”

you leaned into his shoulder, and you quietly cried.

“i don’t think i have been anybody’s first choice in anything, so it didn’t enter my mind that ya would probably feel the same.” his hand found yours and you relished on the warmth.

“your brother advised that i tell ya, ya know?” you said between sniffles.

he chuckled. “he didn’t do an excellent job at that, did he now?”

silence ensued; his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand, your head on his shoulder still - your breathing still a mess from everything that has been said. “i’m sorry i hurt ya. let me spend my whole life making it up to ya,” he proposed. the promise made your heart skip a beat.

for the first time in a long time, you gave him a smile - the one you have reserved just for him, the one you made sure to convey everything you wanted to tell him. there are a lot of other things you feel the need to ask him, but this will suffice for now. this is more than you ever had in your whole life.

“i can’t believe we wasted so much time dancing around our feelings. that one time i wanted to hit one of our classmates because he was being pushy with ya, d’ya remember that?” he reminisced. “anyone can have everything in the world, and the only time i would crack is if it is ya being taken away from me.”

all your dreams pale in comparison to your reality now.

out of the blue, you heard soshiro giggle. “does this mean ya were telling the newbies that night that it was me ye’re into?” he stared at you, and you can’t help but see him as the little boy you grew up with. this is the man i love, you said to yourself. you squeezed his hand.

you didn’t respond. all you know is the color of your cheeks surely rivals the pink of the skies as the both of you watch the sun sets.

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Sixteen} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Elijah Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request {@sweetieseven}:How about Elijah with a mirror sex kink? With dom/sub? The reader is an innocent girl with zero experience and still virgin. She and Elijah just know each other for at least a month... Can you make it like Bridgerton themed please (1800 era). Thankkk youuuu ❤️❤️❤️, (greedy I know...)

♡♡♡ I adore this ideaa, I know Elijah absolutely THRIVED in the 17th century ♡♡♡

3.1k words - Kinks: soft!dom Elijah, mirror sex, inexperience, 1800s themed, reader is super innocent && arranged marriage...

It was the duty of a young woman to marry, to find a good husband and give him children. That's what your mother had taught you growing up. But it was never as easy as she made it out to be, for some men were cruel and others only wished to take a wife to get his hands on her inheritance. It was difficult for a young woman such as yourself to find a good husband.

But it seemed fate had finally dealt you a good hand. Your father had secured a match, one with a respected noble family.

He was a fine choice, all the ladies would agree, for Elijah Mikaelson was the most sought after bachelor in the city. He had charm and charisma and, from the rumors you had heard, was quite skilled in the art of pleasure.

But, this just made you more fearful, for you knew nothing of the marriage bed. Ladies would come to you with conflicting tales of how men would treat them, sometimes roughly, sometimes with the utmost care. How would he expect you to behave? It was as though everyone else knew a secret you were not privy to, and it frustrated you to no end.

And now, it was your wedding night, you stood before a full length mirror, gazing at your reflection as the servants fussed over you. They stripped off your gown, leaving you in only a corset and thin night dress. The air felt cool against your skin, a welcome feeling against your heated body.

"Pardon my boldness, my lady, but that husband of yours is quite a looker." A servant girl said, pulling the pins from your hair, letting the locks fall freely.

You blushed, thinking of him, his handsome features and strong build. The way he looked at you as you said your vows made you feel things you did not understand, things that made your body ache and your skin flush.

You nodded, fear making words hard to come by. The servant smiled and patted your shoulder, her voice reassuring. "Don't fret, my lady. The first time is always the most frightening. But, I have a feeling the two of you will enjoy yourselves tonight."

The other servants giggled, and you couldn't help the embarrassed squeak that left your lips. How many servants were aware of your inexperience? Did he know? You had been told by many that men preferred their wives to be chaste, to have no experience with other men. You were a pure maiden, untouched. Would that be enough?

"All finished, my lady." She said, smiling kindly as you looked back at yourself in the mirror.

"Thank you," You said softly, watching them snuff out most of the candles, casting the room in a dim glow.

"Goodnight, my lady."

"Goodnight," You responded, watching as they all exited, closing the door behind them.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should you get into bed? Or were you supposed to wait for him to arrive?

You settled on simply pacing around the room, too nervous to sit down. What was he going to do when he came in? Would he be gentle? You hoped so, the thought of him being rough was far too frightening to dwell on.

You thought back to when you were first introduced, only a few months ago. He had kissed your hand, his lips soft against the skin, but the look in his eyes was one of pure lust. It made you shudder to think of what was to come.

Your pacing stopped when you heard a soft knock at the door, the handle turning shortly after.

You stood rooted to the spot as he entered, shutting the door behind him. He looked even more handsome in the dim lighting, his dark hair perfectly styled, his face freshly shaven. He was no longer wearing his wedding suit, but a plain white shirt and dark trousers.

He walked slowly towards you, his eyes roaming over your figure, his lips pulling up in a smirk as he noticed your blush.

"Hello," he said softly, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek.

You swallowed, trying to formulate words, but they wouldn't come. He seemed to know this, his smirk widening as his thumb traced over your lips.

"This day has been quite long, hasn't it?" He said, his hand sliding down to hold your chin.

You nodded, the feeling of his touch making your heart flutter. His gaze was intense, sending heat throughout your body.

"Would you prefer to rest?" He asked, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You blinked, shocked at his suggestion. You were his wife now, did he not want you? A terrible feeling of inadequacy washed over you.

"Is that what you wish, h-husband?" You asked, stuttering slightly.

He hummed, his eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. "Not at all, my darling. But I do not wish to frighten you. This is a new experience for you, is it not?"

You felt your cheeks heat up even more, a nod was all you could manage.

"Do not fret," He said, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. "I'll show you everything."

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours, his arms wrapping around your waist. The kiss was soft and sweet, but it ignited something within you, a need that was quickly becoming unbearable.

You gasped as he picked you up, carrying you towards the bed. You couldn't help but cling to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He chuckled at your reaction, laying you down gently on the bed, his hands going to the laces of your corset.

You felt a rush of fear as he began unlacing the garment, and your hands grabbed at his, stopping him. He looked at you, his brows furrowed.

"What is wrong, my dear?" He asked, his hands going to cup your cheeks.

"I... I don't know..." You whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm sorry, I-I just..."

He silenced you with a kiss, then he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his.

"Look," He said, pointing to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

You looked at the reflection, seeing the two of you. Your body was flush against his, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. It made your breath hitch, seeing him touching you so intimately.

"We can see each other perfectly in the mirror," He said, his lips brushing over your jaw. "We can watch every single thing we do to one another."

His words overwhelmed you, and you buried your face in his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours.

"You are so beautiful, my dear," He said, his lips meeting yours again. "I'm honored to have such a lovely wife."

His words caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and you couldn't help but smile, looking into his warm, brown eyes.

"Watch," he said, his hand sliding down your body, pulling the laces of your corset loose.

You watched his every movement, mesmerized by the sight of him. His hands were sure and gentle with the way they undid the garment and soon, he was sliding it off of you. You could see the hunger in his eyes as he gazed upon your bare breasts, your thin dress leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Beautiful," He whispered, his hands cupping your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh.

You gasped, the feeling of his hands on you, wetness forming between your thighs. Your nipples were stiff against the fabric, and he noticed, his thumbs teasing the peaks.

"Tell me, sweet wife, what do you know of pleasure?" He asked, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.

"N-not much," You said, shivering at his touch. "Only what the ladies have told me."

"I see," He said, a smirk on his lips. "And what have they told you?"

"It's.... not appropriate to say.." You said, blushing deeply.

He chuckled, his hands tugging at the strings of your nightdress, loosening it.

"Oh, but it's most appropriate for me to know." He said, lifting your arms and pulling the fabric up and over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him.

"Please, husband.." You whispered, feeling so vulnerable and bare.

"Tell me." He said, his hands caressing your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples.

"I know you... put it in me... d-down there," You stuttered, his eyes drinking in your every expression. You couldn't look him in the eyes as you spoke, it was too embarrassing.

He chuckled, his hand slowly moving down your body, his fingertips ghosting along your stomach, stopping just before he reached the soft curls between your thighs.

"Is that all they told you?" He asked, his eyes locking onto yours.

"They said you were a good lover... t-that I would enjoy it.." You said, his smirk widening.

"Then I shall do my best to live up to such a reputation," He said, his fingers delving into the curls, it made you ache even more, a deep, burning need that only seemed to grow as he continued touching you.

His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as he pushed a finger into you. It felt strange, a sort of foreign intrusion, but not painful.

"Look," he began, his finger curling inside of you. "See how easily I fit inside you? How wet you are for me?"

You glanced up at the mirror, watching his finger disappear inside of you. It was a sinful sight, one that made the ache grow stronger.

"A woman needs to be ready for her husband, just as he needs to be ready for her," He explained, his finger moving slowly in and out of you. "It will hurt otherwise."

"H-how does a man get ready?" You asked, biting your lip.

He smiled, his thumb finding a sensitive little spot, rubbing slow circles. It felt incredible, and you couldn't help but moan, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"For some, it's enough to just look at his wife, to see her beauty and know she is his. But, for others, it takes a little more." He said, his finger increasing in pace, his thumb matching the rhythm.

You had no idea how to make him ready, and the thought made your cheeks flush with shame. How could you be his wife if you didn't know such simple things?

He could see the distress on your face, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice soothing.

"Just by seeing you like this, by touching you, I'm ready," He whispered, his lips brushing over yours.

You melted into the kiss, the warmth of his mouth and the skill of his tongue sending another wave of heat through your body. His fingers continued their work, bringing you closer and closer to some unknown edge.

"Are you close, my love?" He asked, his nose nuzzling yours.

"Close to what?" You asked, panting slightly.

"Close to your peak, to your pleasure," He said, a smirk on his lips. "Have the ladies told you about that, my darling?"

"No..." You said, a bit embarrassed that you didn't know.

"Watch, then," He said, nodding to the mirror.

You looked at the mirror, seeing the reflection of his hands on your body, the way his finger moved in and out of you. The way his eyes were glued to your face, taking in every little reaction.

He added a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way, his thumb pressing down harder on that sensitive spot. It felt like fire was running through your veins, and you couldn't stop the moan from spilling from your lips.

"There we go, chase that feeling," He said, his eyes glinting.

His words and the pleasure they brought made you snap, and you fell over the edge, waves of pure bliss washing over you. It was indescribable, and you felt yourself clinging to him, burying your face in his neck.

You felt boneless, utterly spent, but the need had not faded. You wanted him, wanted more of his touch.

"That was exquisite, my darling," He said, kissing the top of your head. "I can't wait to see you fall apart on my cock."

His words were so lewd, so unlike anything you had ever heard before, but they filled you with a strange sort of excitement.

You sat up, your hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He chuckled, helping you undress him. Once his chest was bare, you ran your hands over the smooth skin, his muscles flexing beneath your touch.

"Eager little wife," He said, smirking. "Just a small taste and now you're insatiable."

You giggled at his words, the ache still throbbing inside of you. His hands went to the laces of his trousers, and you watched as he freed his cock, his member thick and long. You couldn't help but marvel at the sight. You understood now what he meant by being ready, and the thought of him inside of you, filling you up, was intoxicating as it was terrifying.

He smiled at your expression, he took your hand and placed it on his cock. Your fingers wrapped around him, marveling at how soft his skin was.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, stroking his length slowly.

He hummed, his eyes closing as you touched him. "Not at all," He said, his hand wrapping around yours, guiding you to stroke him. "Just keep doing that."

You obeyed, watching as his breathing became heavier, his lips parted in pleasure. It was a wonderful sight, one that made the need grow even stronger.

"You feel nice," you whispered, biting your lip.

He grinned, his hand falling away from yours. "You feel better," He said, pulling your hips closer, grinding his cock against your wetness.

You moaned at the sensation, the tip of his manhood pressing against that sensitive spot he was touching before. He did it again and again, his movements slow and torturous.

"What happens now?" You asked, whimpering at his actions.

"Now," He began, lifting your hips, the tip of his cock teasing at your entrance. "I'm going to make you mine."

He pressed a kiss to your lips, then he lowered you down onto him, the head of his cock stretching you. It hurt and you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shh, it's alright, my love," He said, his voice low and soothing. "Breathe, just breathe."

You did as he said, taking a few deep breaths and you felt the head hit your barrier. He paused for a moment, allowing you time to adjust. Then, he pushed deeper, breaking through the thin membrane.

You whimpered in pain, your face buried in his neck. It felt like a thousand needles stabbing at your flesh, but he was there, holding you close, whispering sweet words. He reached between you and rubbed slow circles over that good spot, the pleasure easing the pain.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, taking a few deep breaths, then lowered yourself all the way down, his cock sheathed inside you. You felt a new ache, a need for him to move, to feel him slide in and out of you. It was instinctual, like your body was coming alive for the first time.

He moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the feeling, guiding your hips to move with his. It reminded you of dancing, there was a rhythm to it, a sense of intimacy.

You were grateful for the mirror, it allowed you to see every moment, every movement. The way his hands held your hips, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he moved. He was beautiful, and you felt a surge of pride knowing he was yours.

The pain was gone, replaced by a new kind of pleasure, something deeper than his earlier touches. You were consumed by the need for him, your hands roaming over his skin, your lips brushing against his.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “See how perfectly you fit around me?”

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you continued to watch. Your skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the way your breasts bounced with each movement only heightened your arousal. You were caught somewhere between embarrassment and excitement, but the look in his eyes—filled with lust and admiration—made you feel powerful, desirable.

He chucked at your reaction, his hands squeezing your hips. He leaned forward, pushing you backwards so that your back was against the soft bedding, you gasped and giggled at the sudden change in position.

He looked down at you, a smile playing on his lips, he moved his hips slowly, drawing his cock almost all the way out of you, before thrusting back inside. You moaned, the sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every stroke.

"You're mine now, my love," He murmured, his lips trailing along your jaw, his breath hot on your skin. "All mine."

You nodded, unable to form words, his name was all you could manage. He was in complete control, and you loved every moment of it. You felt yourself being driven closer and closer to the edge, your climax building inside of you. He seemed to sense it, his thumb finding that spot once more, stroking in time with his thrusts.

You felt something within you snap, like a kettle overflowing, the steam escaping into the air. The pleasure washed over you, a wave of ecstasy that left you gasping for breath, clutching his shoulders.

He smiled, his lips colliding with yours, his pace was faltering, his breathing becoming labored. You had never learned exactly what happens next, about how things end. Your body tensed, unsure of what would happen, but he continued moving, holding your heated body close to his.

He let out a groan, his thrusts growing faster, deeper. You gasped at his roughness, the intensity in his movements, skin slapping against skin.

Suddenly, he tensed, pressing himself deep inside you. There was an odd warmth, something foreign that spread throughout your body. But you didn't mind it, it felt right, almost comforting.

His hands cupped your cheeks, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice a husky whisper.

You nodded, giving him a smile. "Yes, I'm fine," You replied, your fingers brushing his hair out of his face.

He rolled to his side, bringing you with him, you let out a soft little laugh as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

You lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours. It was a feeling you knew you would never tire of.

"Is it always like this? This... pleasure?" You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He chucked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"One can only hope."

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited. a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.

TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug

MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3

Masterlist

For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.

Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.

Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.

So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.

Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.

You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.

“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.

He nods, “Yeah. You?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”

Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.

“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”

Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.

“I’d love that.”

Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”

Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.

Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.

When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.

Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.

“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”

Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”

You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.

“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.

“Not ready. You go first.”

You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.

“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”

Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”

“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”

This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”

You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”

Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.

“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”

You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”

Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”

You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.

“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza. 

Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.

“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”

You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”

Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”

Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”

“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”

Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.

“My best friend died at seventeen.”

You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.

“W-what?” you manage to spit out.

Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”

You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.

“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”

Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.

“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”

You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.

“We can stop the game now,” you offer.

Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”

After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.

Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”

You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”

He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.

“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.

You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”

Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.

He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.

His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.

“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.

“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”

He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”

This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.

Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.

“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”

Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.

Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.

“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”

Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.

“I want you so badly,” he whispers. 

“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”

Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.

He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.

“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”

You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.

“Shit! W-wait, I—”

He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.

You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.

“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”

He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now. 

“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”

Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”

You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”

You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.

You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.

He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.

“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”

Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.

[bobluvbot]

late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it)  wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach  a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part. 

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. 

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort. 

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement. 

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts. 

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world. 

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall. 

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better. 

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did. 

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft. 

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier. 

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it. 

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare. 

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa? 

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal. 

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope. 

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response. 

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell? 

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy. 

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread. 

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back. 

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm. 

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man. 

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him. 

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach. 

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?” 

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.” 

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind. 

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck. 

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence. 

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.” 

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin. 

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought. 

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?” 

[bookyeom]

pairing: mingyu x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, swearing, Mingyu being a simp

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. (Also, this fic in particular references the iconic 1987 film Some Kind of Wonderful, but I think I explained it well enough for someone who may not have seen it! However, if you haven’t seen it… Watch it. In my opinion, it tops all of those “must-see” movies like Sixteen Candles, etc. I adore this movie. The OG friends-to-lovers.)

nothin’ on you by b.o.b., bruno mars

they might say hi and i might say hey but you shouldn’t worry about what they say ’cause they’ve got nothing on you, babe

You groan as the doorbell rings, your eyes finding the time on your phone. You’d just settled in with your bunny pajamas and your rattiest, biggest, comfiest sweater, and you really don't want to move now. What you want is to disappear into the couch that you’d spent way too much money on, under your favourite blanket, and mindlessly scroll through social media videos of cats for hours while pretending you aren't perpetually single on the holiday of love. 

As much as you try to ignore it, the ringing only becomes more persistent, mixed with obnoxious, intermittent knocking. You groan again and stand up, making your way over to the door in annoyance. There are only a handful of people who would dare to be so irritating — Soonyoung if he wanted food, Chan if he wanted to show you a new dance routine, or… 

“Mingyu?”

“Hi,” he says brightly, and your brain short circuits. He looks as wonderful as always, black hoodie and sweats, eyes warm as he waits for you to reply like a normal human. 

You know that the right answer would be a greeting in response, but all you can think to say instead is, “It’s Valentine’s Day?” When Mingyu’s face falls a little bit, you hurry to explain yourself. “I mean… Do you not have plans?” 

Admittedly, that response isn’t much better, but you genuinely don't know the answer to your own question. You had just assumed that he did have plans — you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being alone today, honestly. You hadn’t really wanted to think too much about it. It wasn’t like it’d be hard for funny, kind, Adonis-among-men Mingyu to find a date. All he had to do was smile at any man or woman in his general vicinity and they’d be under his spell. 

You know first hand what that feels like.

Your best friend showing up at your door on February 14th has replayed a thousand times in your brain. You’ve been head over heels in love with him for years now. The fantasy usually consists more of him in a tuxedo holding a huge bouquet of roses, proclaiming his love for you before kissing you passionately, but you can’t deny that you like this casual, tuxedo-less Mingyu just as much — if not more. He’s just… Mingyu. Soft and warm in that hoodie that you love, holding a box of your favourite pizza in one hand, a bag of who knows what else in the other.

“Do you not want me here?” He pouts, and you cave.

You sigh, but a smile makes its way to your face regardless. “Of course I do, Gyu. I just thought you had plans, that’s all.”

“I do,” he counters. “With you.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words, ignore the soft smile he sends your way when you move aside to let him in. “Alright, then… Let’s be single as hell on Valentine’s Day, together.” 

Mingyu beams, stepping past you and into the apartment. 

“Movie?” He suggests as he slips off his shoes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen with the pizza. You hear the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he makes his way around with ease, like he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. Because he does. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest at the reminder of how well he fits into your life, how well he knows your apartment.

He knows you pretty well, too, which is actually a big part of the reason you’re so surprised that he’d shown up today. 

Because anyone who knows you knows that you’re in love with Kim Mingyu. Even new people who spend just five minutes with the two of you can tell, and you’re basically a pro at dismissing the couple questions by now. It seems the entire world can tell you’re head over heels except for the man himself, and you really don’t understand how he seems to have absolutely no clue. If he did, you don’t think he’d be so cruel as to suggest spending Valentine’s Day together. 

And yet here he is, moving around your house like it’s his house, too.

He has no idea, you remind yourself. He’s just alone on Valentine’s Day, and he likes spending time with you. That’s all.

You busy yourself setting up in the living room, making room on your side table for the pizza and whatever else he’d brought. You catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV and grimace. Theoretically, you’re both dressed casually, so you shouldn’t feel underdressed for this impromptu hangout. But in reality, Mingyu looks better than everyone else all the time, no matter what he’s wearing. He reappears a few moments later looking every bit the part of an athleisure model with the pizza box, a bottle of wine, and a box of your favourite chocolates in hand.

“A heart-shaped box of Lindt?” You can’t help but blurt out. It isn’t unlike Mingyu to bring your favourite snacks to movie night, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and the chocolates are in a heart-shaped box.

“It was on sale,” he shrugs in response, settling down on the couch, and you want so badly to question the peculiar choice further. You don’t.

You hand him the remote, grabbing the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor at your abrupt departure from the couch while he puts a movie on. He seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, which is interesting considering he’s one of the most indecisive people you’ve ever met.

“What are we watching?” You ask. “Action? Thriller?”

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his other arm already outstretched for you to fall back against. You settle in next to him, pulling your knees up and draping the blanket over the both of you.

“I thought we could do something a bit different tonight,” he finally answers after a pause, and you look up at him in surprise. 

“Like what?”

He simply nods his chin towards the TV, where the opening scenes of the movie he’s chosen are beginning to play. You recognize the title immediately: Some Kind of Wonderful. 

Your heart leaps into your throat.

You’re not sure what to make of this. You’ve never seen the movie, but you know the premise of it: two best friends falling in love. This has to be a joke. You can’t help it as your entire body stiffens, and you tell yourself to relax. 

You can’t.

“Why?” You finally blurt out. Your chest feels tight. You don’t know if you’re reading far too much into it, but when have you ever watched a romance movie together? You’ve expressly made sure that you didn’t.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mingyu replies. “Thought it would be nice.”

You’re looking at him again, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He finally acknowledges you with raised eyebrows of his own, meeting your eyes briefly before motioning to the TV with his chin.

“Can you just watch it? It’s a good movie, I promise. Give it a chance.”

You nod slowly, doing as he asks, but you can barely focus for the next hour. Everything has been so strange; the movie choice, the way he’d shown up with wine and chocolate — all of which could have been excused, maybe, if it wasn't for the fact that Mingyu is acting strange, too. He’s normally so pliant against you during movie nights, so clingy. But tonight, despite your closeness on the couch, all he does is rest his arm loosely around your shoulders. No fingers tracing your skin, no pulling you against his side, no getting distracted by your hair and attempting to make a shitty braid with it. No maneuvering his own body so that he’s the one with his head in your lap. It feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s waiting for something.

What in the world is going on?

It’s excruciating, but you try to focus. You’re almost there when the ending scene begins to play, but your whole body is still tense. You watch as the main characters, Keith and Watts, finally kiss in the middle of the street, and you think you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You swear Mingyu has tensed up beside you, but you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as Keith finally speaks his confession. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” comes the words from Watts, and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. This all feels a little too real. Why did he put this on? What the fuck is Mingyu playing at? 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” At Keith’s last words of dialogue from the screen, you feel Mingyu’s grip on your shoulder tighten. 

“You never asked,” Watts replies, teasing, and you can’t take it anymore. You turn to your best friend, eyes wide, and he slowly moves to turn off the TV.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, and you can’t look away from him, frozen. You can’t utter a single word. He’s picking at a piece of thread on his sweatpants, eyes downcast as he avoids your gaze. 

It hits you like a brick, the reason why he’s being so strange. It’s because he’s nervous. 

There’s no way. 

A million thoughts race through your mind, a million reasons why going down this road could be a bad idea. But you have to ask — you have to know.

“Why didn’t you have plans tonight, Gyu?”

He meets your eyes again, and you can barely breathe. His gaze holds firm, intense, as he says, “Because I wanted to have plans with you.”

“On Valentine’s Day?” The insinuation of your words is clear, and you know that Mingyu understands exactly what you’re asking.

His eyes remain steady on yours as he replies, easily, “Yes.”

So simple. Certain. Sure. 

You remind yourself to breathe, gathering all the courage that’s left in you to speak again. “‘Why didn’t you tell me?’”

You watch Mingyu’s face as you repeat the words from the movie, your voice trembling just the slightest bit. He’s really looking at you now, a soft smile on his face at your words, and your heart leaps into your throat. He’s stunning. He’s always stunning, but the way he’s looking at you right now has you feeling like you’re walking on air. His gaze is so warm, and you don’t want to look away from him ever again.

“‘You never asked.’”

“Neither did you.” Your words are your own now, and Mingyu nods, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you in against his chest. You flush as he draws you towards him, and you briefly wonder if you’re dreaming.

“You’re right.” He gazes down at you fondly, and your hand lifts tentatively to his jaw. He nuzzles into your fingers, turning to gently kiss your palm, and your eyes don’t leave his mouth. His free hand lifts to rest on top of yours, before he softly runs his fingers down your arm and up to your shoulder, your neck, your face.  

“‘I knew you were stupid’,” you quote cheekily from the movie script again. Mingyu’s lips break into a wide smile as he lets out a surprised laugh, canines on full display as he beams. 

Then he’s using his whole body to pull you into him, silencing your own giggles with a kiss. 

Your breath is caught in pleasant surprise, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. You’re impressed with how quickly you’re able to respond after your brain factory resets, the feeling of his lips on yours stunning you for only a moment before you react. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly and earning a pleased hum from him. His teeth gently sink into your lower lip in retaliation, and you can feel your entire body react to it. His hands find your hips, helping move you so that you’re in his lap. All you can feel is him as he pulls you in closer and closer, kissing you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He finally breaks away to kiss along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, before moving to slowly press one final kiss at the base of your throat, and you can feel goosebumps spread across your skin at the featherlight touch. 

“I love you,” he whispers softly, and you lower your chin to meet his eyes. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s broken out at his words, and you feel a bit like you’re soaring as he continues, “I’m in love with you. I really am, and I need you to know that.” His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his fingers gently massaging the skin there, and your forehead falls to his. 

“Mingyu…”

He hums, and you pull back to look at him, your fingers moving to softly trace every part of his face. You’ve long since committed him to memory, but one more time can’t hurt. He waits for a moment before he lets out a whine, burying his face into your collarbone.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You let out a giggle. “Why?”

“Because I’m shy.”

You let out a snort, and Mingyu pulls away to pout up at you. Your fingers gently brush over his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to hide again, but he doesn’t.

“I love you too,” you say softly, and his pout is gone. “I have for a really long time now.”

He surges forward to press another kiss to your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp into it. You can tell he’s satisfied with himself as he smiles, pulling back just to say, “Guess we’re both stupid then, huh?” 

You laugh, and you can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him as his arms fold around your back, pulling you back in and resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, your head softly falling to rest atop his.

“Oh my god,” you hear him mumble after a few moments of silence. You hum in question, and he moves to look up at you again. “I’m so excited to date you,” he says, his face full of genuine joy. You can feel yourself flush crimson as he continues, “I’m going to date you so hard. You can’t stop me. I’m going to hold your hand all the damn time, you have no idea.” 

“I can’t fucking wait, boyfriend.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fifth of our Thirteen Valentines just in time for the holiday/Carat Day! Who better to celebrate with than Kim Mingyu himself? Special shoutout and dedication to the best girl @tae-bebe, who fell victim to the Mingyu enemies-to-lovers trope irl :) xx

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter three: i smoke out your darkest side

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Your favorite accidental demon boy toy maims your piece of shit manager, learns a bit about your past, and visits you in a dream.

cw: explicit, witch!reader, reader is 21+, eddie is immortal, deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, wet dreams, lucid dreaming, handjobs, skin on skin grinding, teasing, horror, very intense bodily harm done to a minor character (tongues are lost), blood, gore, bullying/harassment, mention of past abusive ex, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

EASTWICK, YOUR JUNIOR YEAR

The book you found at the garage sale a town over has to be fake. Right? You’ve spent weeks flipping through it, looking at the pages and reading the words over and over, trying to somehow carve them into your memory. 

It seems so improbable, but the notion bounces around in your skull for so long that it grips hold somewhere in there, wiggling down into your belief system until you just can’t seem to get rid of it. 

Magic is real. Witchcraft exists. It has existed, in different forms, throughout history. You’ve just never considered that you could practice it for yourself, until now.

Part of the reason that you decide to try it is that you want to see what’ll happen. You have an insatiable curiosity, and if it works out, you may have just discovered the cure to all that ails you, so to speak. But the other part of it is a quiet desperation for something more. 

Being sixteen sucks. But being sixteen in a small, puritanical town that’s stuck in the past, when you’re considered too weird to eat in the cafeteria without getting wads of gum stuck into your hair by the assholes on the football team, is worse. 

You have no support system, and no way out. Your family won’t even pretend to understand. So, you’re taking to naïve leaps of faith, instead.

The moon is bright enough to illuminate the clouds moving in the sky around it. The air is thick with late spring mugginess and oncoming rain, stifling your skin. The candles arranged in a circle around you don’t help with the heat. Beneath you on the dirt, you’ve used red painter’s pigment to sketch out a pentacle, for lack of a better understanding of how to “cast a circle.”

In your hand, the little cloth doll you’d amateurly sewn together stares back at you with two black button eyes. You’d been very careful when you clipped off a piece of Matt Anderson’s backpack strap to tie around its neck. The wad of ABC gum that he’d shoved into your hair is wrapped in it, and stuffed inside the doll’s body, making it lumpy– but it doesn’t have to look perfect.

It just has to work.

You pick up a cheap plastic cigarette lighter and flick it on. The flame glows yellow in the dark, illuminating the crude red smiley face you’d drawn onto the doll’s head. 

Fucking Matt.

The polyester cloth sizzles when you hold the flame to it, barely singeing the edges. All your rage, all your pent up anger and aggression toward him and the impromptu haircut he caused, floods out of you. The smiley face warps. One of the little button eyes pops off. The stuffing inside is going to catch on in a second–

“Oh, my GOD. What are you doing?”

You drop the lighter with a yelp. Over your backyard fence, your neighbor, Jessica, stares at you with wide eyes.

Jessica is your age, your longtime neighbor and one-time friend, when you were very little. You grew apart in middle school, when she discovered cheerleading and you discovered teen angst. She doesn’t talk to you much anymore, unless it’s to give you a hollow, backhanded compliment.

“Jess– I didn’t– what are you doing?” You squint at her in the darkness. Her blonde hair is up in foam rollers, a baby blue bathrobe wrapped around her willowy shoulders.

“Well I saw fire out here when I was getting ready for bed and I wanted to see what was– I wanted to make sure you weren’t, like, in trouble.” She takes in the circle of candles around the red pentacle, the lighter, the mutilated doll in your hand. “Are you, like… a Devil worshipper?”

“What?” You stand up, still clutching the doll in your hand. “No, why would you ask that?”

“Well, I mean… Reverend Tanner was talking about ‘em in church the other day, and I just thought…” She looks you up and down. Her eyes linger on your oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt, your hands covered in red pigment and soot from the spell you were attempting. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna say anything. I promise.”

“Jess, I’m not a Devil wor–”

“It’s… it’s alright. It’ll be our secret.” Jessica gives you a wobbly, forced smile that you know means she’s lying. 

Your eye twitches in annoyance. You probably should say something. Plead your case, make her understand that this isn’t Devil worship. Tell her that whatever the hell she listens to the preacher at the local parish say about ‘lunatic Satan worshippers consorting with the Devil’ doesn’t apply to you, and frankly, probably doesn’t exist the way she thinks it does. 

Instead, you just sigh. You can’t foresee her being as big of a problem as Matt or any of his cronies. She isn’t vindictive as all that. “Sure, Jess. Our secret.”

“I, um. Sorry, I’m just gonna…” Jessica gestures over her shoulder, and then retreats back toward her house. Her fluffy pink slippers scuff the wood of her patio as she glances back at you cautiously, like she’s afraid you’ll chase after her. 

You watch her disappear inside. Then, with a roll of your eyes, you irritatedly hold the lighter’s flame to the Matt doll, and let it catch fire in your hands. You toss it into an empty Folgers coffee canister and let it burn to shit before you blow out the candles and go back inside. The pentacle on the ground will be washed away with the rain by the morning.

Fuck it all.

As soon as Colin enters his house, Eddie appears on the horizon like a stoic angel bearing a message.

Actually, that’s a fucking lie. He makes the walls cry blood. Always wanted to do that, at least once.

Colin’s a little pipsqueak of a guy in his early thirties, with prematurely thinning hair and skinny legs that make his pants look way too big on him no matter what size he wears. Eddie finds it hard to take him seriously– especially when he’s cowering in a corner brandishing a wooden crucifix like Eddie’s some kind of movie vampire.

“Colin– hey.” Eddie smacks the crucifix out of the guy’s hand, sending it clattering across the floor. Red ooze drips over Colin’s shoulder as he flinches away, whimpering and crying. Eddie rolls his eyes. “Christ, you people are so easy to scare. Okay. Here’s how this is gonna go– you’re gonna quit your job, and I’m gonna make you vomit green pea soup, and then we both go our separate ways and never have to see each other again. Sound good?”

Eddie pauses, tilting his head and squinting at Colin as he starts whispering something. It’s so quiet and wobbly with tears that he can’t quite make it out, so he has to lean close to Colin’s trembling face.

“–thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread–”

Eddie sighs. “That’s not gonna work.” 

“–forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us–”

“Colin, I’m losing my patience.”

“–lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil–”

“COLIN!” Eddie’s head explodes into a storm of snarling beasts, screeching demons and eldritch beings whirling around each other in a tempest that could rival the Tasmanian Devil. A monstrous jaw with three rows of razor sharp teeth unhinges in front of Colin’s screaming face, roaring at him, showing him the glowing pit of hellfire deep in Eddie’s chest.

Colin continues shrieking even after Eddie’s face returns to normal. Eddie rocks back on his heels, inching away from the puddle of urine Colin just released onto the floor. 

“I warned you,” Eddie murmurs. “Needed you to shut up. Now,” Eddie snatches Colin’s phone from the coffee table, pushing it at him. “Call your stupid fucking boss and quit your job so I can get back to my girl.”

Blubbering, Colin juggles the phone in his trembling hands. It takes three tries for him to unlock the damn thing.

After it’s done, Eddie takes the phone from Colin and tosses it over his shoulder. “You just got off so fucking easy– they teach you those fucking manners in Sunday school, too? Stealing tips, making her clean the goddamn bathrooms on her hands and knees. I’d love to kick your teeth in–”

“W-wait–” Colin sniffles, sitting up in his corner. “That’s your girl? The witch?” 

Eddie leans back, his jaw clicking into place as he readjusts it– unhinging it like that always misaligns it. He scrutinizes Colin’s expression; the blubbering, frightened little cretin is gone, replaced by a wild eyed and angry zealot. 

“Oh, my god. Oh my GOD, so it’s true?” Colin laughs hysterically. “You know they say she burned down her neighbors house because they saw her worshiping the Devil?”

Eddie blinks. “What fucking year is this? 1692?”

Colin doesn’t answer, just continues, “And she never got caught. They couldn’t prove it was her. But now, I bet…”

Colin trails off. There’s something dark and menacing in Eddie’s eyes that wasn’t there before– not even when he lost his temper. Lava pools whirling and stormy, boiling and angry like the buildup before an eruption. 

Fear shoots directly into Colin’s mind so hard that he gives a startled jump. After years of skillful practice, Eddie has figured out how to play with people’s emotions in quite the literal sense. Sometimes, he does it harder than necessary. 

“I– I mean–” Colin backtracks, “I’m not gonna say anything. I promise. I– I fucking swear on my life–”

“I don’t care about your life,” Eddie says, his voice as flat as he can make it. “I care about hers.” 

“Please– please don’t kill me!”

“No, I’m not gonna kill you.” Eddie looks momentarily as though he’s considering launching himself forward and throttling the cowering man, but he sets aside his sudden temperament. “I promised her that I wouldn’t. Which… complicates things.”

Colin squirms. “It… it does?”

“Mm.” Eddie nods, his hands pressed together under his nose as though in prayer. “Because you’re obviously not gonna keep your trap shut, so I have to do it for you.”

Eddie stands as Colin retches. His body contorts on the floor, wailing and gurgling until a projectile stream of blood bursts forth and splatters across the living room hearth. In the midst of the puddle of blood, a writhing tongue curls and twitches, severed on one end like it was cut with a sharp blade.

Colin collapses in a pool of his own fluids. He’ll live. Unfortunately.

Eddie dusts his hands off on his pants and whistles. Out of the shadows, the smoky impression of a dog appears, its glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness and mirroring Eddie’s. 

“Dante,” Eddie mutters to the shadow of the rottweiler, standing at attention and waiting for instructions. The dog gives a short whuff of acknowledgement. Eddie snaps his fingers, points at Colin’s disembodied tongue. “Dinner.”

Dante barks and falls upon the tongue enthusiastically. It’s been a while since Eddie’s hellhounds had any fresh meat, only being fed by the souls of the condemned in the Otherworld. 

Eddie turns around in a circle, staring around at Colin’s less than stellar apartment setup. He can’t really judge, he was never much of a housekeeper either, but this guy is on a whole other level.

It takes a minute, but he finds what he was looking for beneath Colin’s mattress– hilariously predictable– in a tin pencil box. There’s about $300 in cash, singles and fives and a few twenties in the mix. A couple receipts from a Coinstar machine, as well.

Eddie snatches up the wad of money and shoves it into his back pocket.

You’ve managed to have one or two lucid dreams in your life. In the past they’ve been something mundane– walking through a city or having a talk with an elderly gentleman on a park bench.

This one is different. You open your eyes to something entirely unexpected. 

Your dream is bright and colorful, despite it being perpetually twilight. As you gain lucidity, you pick up on different things– damp grass on your bare back, skin on skin, a gentle caress up a naked thigh. You turn your head, and you find Eddie there next to you, stirring as if rousing from a dream of his own.

You– or, your subconscious– has already taken the liberty of stripping him of his clothes, and you lay in the tall grass of a meadow. Your arms are around him, your leg hooked over his waist. He pets your thigh, soft and gentle like he’s doing it mindlessly. 

Your hand wraps around his cock and he startles, his eyes flying open as he gasps.

“Oh. This is, um…” Eddie turns his head towards you, snickering as a warm flush spreads across his cheeks. Ringed hands– because of course, your mind would keep the rings in there– come up to cover his face.

You giggle. “Hello, handsome.”

He grumbles something, but he doesn’t manage to say anything of real importance before he moans. You squeeze his cock and roll your wrist, stroking him torturously slow. He throbs in your grip, needy and jumping when you skim your fingers over the vein that runs along his shaft.

“Well, you, um–” Eddie huffs and cracks a smile, dragging his hands down his face as he does to clear away the grogginess that comes from stepping into the astral plane. “You sure know how to make a demon feel special.”

“Not what you had in mind?” you ask, and your voice has a sultry dip to it that makes the demon squirm. 

“Mm, I figured–” Eddie’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over and spit onto his cock. The sound that kicks up from it is salacious, a lewd squelch that completely contradicts your pastoral surroundings. You watch him, as his mouth hangs open in shock for a moment. His head drops back against the ground, baring the jumping muscles of his long neck for your consideration. “Fuck– figured you dream about unicorns and lollipops or some shit.”

You hum, looking pointedly down at where your hand strokes him between his legs. “Well, you’re half right. S’what you get for hijacking my dream, you little shit,” you mutter, but it doesn’t come out as caustically as you want it to, because you litter his chest with kisses. 

“I just wanted to talk.” He tilts his head, giving you a pointed look. “You seem to have other plans.”

“Well, it’s my dream, and you caught me in a mood, so.” You shrug, rolling your thumb over the head of his cock. You’re gazing down at it like it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, with heavy-lidded eyes and your bottom lip caught between your teeth. 

Eddie groans and bucks his hips up into your fist. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, a warm touch that sends a shudder through you. “Remind me to do that more often?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nuh-uh, this is a one time thing. You said you wanted to talk, so talk.” 

You hadn’t realized just how much his presence would affect you, even just in your dreams. Everything about him screams for you to unhinge yourself, against your better judgment; his eyes, his scent, even his voice beckons you. Something not quite human or tangible pulls at your senses and clutches at your chest, and you’re not sure if it’s hunger or lust or something else entirely, some other primitive urge that you’re feeling in force.

Eddie sucks in a long breath through his teeth, his eyes falling to your hand as it works over him. His own tremble, holding back from touching you how he wants. 

“There’s, um. You asked me to– uh–” You start trailing your tongue along his chest in a way that makes him lose his train of thought, your lips dragging over his skin, heavenly soft. “Uhhh– not kill that guy for you. So I didn’t.”

“Good.” 

“I cut out his tongue, though.”

“Eddie.”

“Sorry.” He isn’t, really. You can feel it, and you can see it in the ghost of a smile on his face. “He was gonna say some shit about you worshipping the Devil. Called you a witch.”

“Everyone already does. And they’re right, aren’t they?” You sigh, and your breath whispers across his overheated skin. “I’m worshipping a devil right now.”

You’re bolder in your sleep. You guess because, to your subconscious mind, there isn’t as much to be afraid of in dreams. Especially in dreams that you can control. All your hang-ups are, well… hung up. And you can let yourself be as promiscuous as you want, at least until you wake up. 

You bite at a spot on his neck that makes him lose his composure. Eddie chews his lip and groans, his eyes nearly rolling back into his skull. He grabs your hip and flips you, until your back hits the grass and his hips rest between your legs. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze up at him. Eddie’s beautiful, so impossibly stunning that it nearly frightens you, almost as much as this aching want burning inside of you does. His dark hair hanging around his face, his flushed skin and glowing amber eyes. He’s the picture of immortal beauty and power, and he’s yours.  

His lips are so close to yours, his mouth open so that his breath gets caught in your lungs. His nose bumping your own, almost like he means to kiss you. 

Eddie rocks his hips, and you feel his erection grind against your cunt. Splitting the seam of your pussy, parting around him as he slides the length of it against you, getting it wet with your arousal. He isn’t… he isn’t fucking you, per se. But it would take just the slightest hitch of his hips, just a little press forward to change that. 

You whimper, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his back. “Eddie…”

“So you want to play games, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and bassy in his chest.

You roll your hips up into his. You can’t help it– the slick, soft glide of his cock through your folds, the head catching against your clit feels too good. His lips on your skin, his breath in your ear. It’s been way too fucking long for you, since someone touched you like this. Your head drops back on your shoulders, your back arching as you moan–

You wake up.

You fucking. Wake. Up.

You lay, disoriented, on your bed. Your hand rests on your sweaty forehead as your pussy throbs, hot and angry between your legs. Seething with rage and neglect, begging for the job to be finished. 

It was so real. It felt so real, and so good, and you had to go and ruin it.

His scent remains. His smoke fills your lungs, eating up all your oxygen and making your head spin. You struggle to find your balance somehow, trying to quell the ache between your legs, trying to snap back to a reality where you weren’t just about to fuck your dream demon.

“Did you burn down someone’s house?”

You yelp, bolting to sit up in bed. His scent wasn’t just a leftover memory from your dream. You search through the darkness until your eyes find him sitting in the antique chair in the corner of your room, facing the bed, lit only by streaks of light filtering through the blinds from the streetlamp outside. He reclines, immobile, seemingly relaxed as his eyes glow warm and nearly gold in the low light.

You simply cannot handle this right now. Not while you’re coming down from a very near orgasm you just had because of him. 

“What?”

“The guy, Colin–” Eddie continues, as if he’s completely unaware of the absolute torture you’re going through. “He said you burned down someone’s house. Your neighbor’s?”

You wonder for a moment if you could hate him for this, but you already know the answer. You could never hate him. Not really.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” he coos, and then winks. “Tell me and I’ll give you a present.”

You squint at him. He can’t possibly mean what you think he means. You get a mental image of him between your legs, his eyes glowing as he peers up at you, his mouth closed over your cunt. 

He smirks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. The fucker. 

“Yeah,” you admit, drawing your knees up to your chest. “Yeah, uh. My fucking neighbor– she started a rumor that I was a Satanist in high school. Got everyone in on it. So, I threw a Molotov through her kitchen window.”

Eddie nods slowly. “Amazing de-escalation tactic.”

“It’s not like I genuinely tried to burn down the place,” you huff. “How was I supposed to know they’d just had the floor waxed?”

Eddie laughs, rocking forward in his seat. His eyes sparkle and his smile is sharp when he pulls a wad of money out of his pocket, holding it up between two fingers. “Your tip money. Your wish, my command.”

You’re taken aback, gazing at the paper that seems so bright in the darkness. “Well, that was relatively painless.”

“Was it?” It’s barely a whisper, but something you were meant to hear. Holding his jaw in his hand, fingers splayed across his cheek, he watches you with growing intensity. “Come and take it, then.”

The knowing smile on his lips issues a challenge, one that you would walk away from in any other circumstance. He knows very well what he’s doing. He can read your thoughts, that much is obvious. And since it seems they’re always in the gutter now, he knows how you’re squirming beneath your skin at the sight of him. 

You wonder if you were really the one who ended the dream.

Refusing to breathe– you’re afraid that if you do, the sound of it would give you away– you crawl out of your bed and stand on shaky legs. One look at him tells you he’s gloating, watching the way that you struggle.

Ohhhh you hate him. You hate him, you hate him.

You cross the room toward him, moving slower than necessary in order to steel yourself to the shortening distance between you. You stop short of his legs, extended out and crossed at the ankles.

Eddie doesn’t move, his elevated hand still holding the wad of money. “C’mon then, tough girl.”

You stare at him, trying not to give yourself away, trying for all the world not to scream or throw yourself on him. You hesitantly step forward and snatch the money out of his hand before taking a long step back. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say mildly, trying to keep your voice steady. Even his name sends a rush of warmth through you. The word burns on your wrist. Your body shakes against your will.

Shit. Fuck. God damn it.

He chuckles, standing from the chair, looming over you. “Anything else I can help you with?”

You squint up at him, your voice shaking as much as your hands, now. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. It was a one time thing, wasn’t it?”

The expression on his face is somewhere between affection and condescension as he suppresses a grin. His hand comes up and he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, urging you to look up into his eyes. 

A note of fondness oozes into his tone. “Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. You won’t win.”

Eddie’s touch sends a shock wave through your body, a shiver so strong that your eyes flutter shut. His voice is so soft, so lovingly gentle that it nearly makes you break down, knees weakening, head spinning. 

He leans forward, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. “I’ll be here, whenever you change your mind.” 

There’s an edge to his voice, a tone that hints at some sort of plea in there. You don’t know what it could be for– sex? Your trust?

You trust him to protect you. You approach him the same way you might approach a spirit in your house– unfamiliar, sure, but not immediately a threat as far as you know. Here, let me offer you half of my muffin as long as you don’t set my house on fire, okay? Maybe don’t kill that guy. Or maybe do. Depends on my mood.

You purse your lips, thankful that he doesn’t look at you when you say, “I know.” 

You sound a lot more sure than you feel. You desperately want to grab him and kiss him, throw him on the bed and finish what you started in that dream. 

Except, you’re afraid. A dream is one thing; sex in the waking world is another. You’re tiptoeing around some strange patron demon-human relationship that you don’t know how to navigate. It’s in the contract that you have to fuck him, eventually. But you and relationships don’t have a good history, and you’re a little frightened that if you make that leap on your own, it’s only going to end badly. 

You think of Andy. You think of your abusive ex who still just hangs around, waiting to intimidate you. You think of the reason why you went out to make a deal with Eddie, and you think of the dog tag that you buried as an offering because Andy had taken the last thing you truly loved from you.

You know that Eddie isn’t just some normal guy you’re dealing with. Your attraction to him goes against everything that you understand, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? Because you try. You try and try, and you’re a good girl until you’re pushed too far, and then you do something stupid like make a deal with a demon because you’re sick of having to just be strong on your own. And suddenly you want to fuck that demon’s brains out so bad that it’s keeping you up at night.

But… you don’t know him. Not really. And as bad as you want him, with your body screaming for him, it’s still enough to make you hesitate. 

There’s a subtle movement of Eddie’s head, like maybe he can sense your indecision. Maybe he’ll end that torture for you. He’ll read the brimming anxiety in your thoughts and give you what you’re too afraid to ask for. Sex. Sex with Eddie. Sex with your demon… whatever he is.

Sex with his infernal majesty of freaks and misfits.

But he doesn’t. Without another word, Eddie turns, and he disappears into your bedroom mirror. Leaving you to flop down onto your bed, punch your pillow, and scream.

[redroomreflections]

A New World: A Mom for Hugs

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Child!Reader

Summary: Bunny is beginning to understand what it means to have a mom.

No trigger warnings I think. Will probably pull at the heartstrings. This is for anon bestie who asked for it.

in the sixteen candles universe available on a03

w/c: 2k

Life in Westview had settled into a gentle rhythm, a mix of routines and quiet moments that Natasha and Wanda had carefully created for their little family. It was an adjustment for the two of them to be the best parents they could be for the girls. It hadn’t been easy, but after months of hard work, the house now felt like a true home—a place where Faith and Bunny could finally start to heal.

Bunny had been officially diagnosed with selective mutism not long after she and Faith moved in. Natasha and Wanda had suspected as much from the start, but the confirmation helped them understand their new daughter better. It explained the way Bunny would retreat into herself, the way her voice seemed to get stuck somewhere deep inside. With the help of a kind therapist, Bunny was slowly learning to navigate her world, and both girls were making progress, however gradually.

The house had adapted too. Visual charts and schedules were now a part of their everyday life—bright, colorful guides that hung in the kitchen and hallways, providing structure and a sense of security. At first, they’d been meant for Bunny, to ease her anxiety and help her know what to expect each day. But over time, Natasha and Wanda noticed that Faith had started to rely on them as well. Whether it was checking off tasks on the morning chart or quietly using the emotion wheel, both girls found comfort in the predictability and order these tools brought.

"Make a space for her that is only her own," The therapist had recommended. "Let her know it's where she can go if she's scared, afraid or needs time alone." She reminded them. "Always respect that boundary if she doesn't want anyone there."

So in Bunny’s bedroom, they’d set up a small tent in one corner—a soft, cozy space filled with her favorite stuffed animals, blankets, and a tiny lantern. It was Bunny’s sanctuary, a place where she could retreat when the world felt too big. Wanda had spent countless hours in there with her, just sitting quietly, offering silent reassurance whenever Bunny needed it.

Faith had her own way of coping. She was more independent, spending hours reading or doing homework in her room. But she was never truly far from Bunny. Natasha had noticed how Faith would hover, always watching, always ready to step in if Bunny needed her. It was a role Faith had taken on long before they arrived in Westview—a protective older sister, who had learned too early how to shield her little sister from the world’s harshness. Wanda often found herself watching the girls, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and sadness.

She couldn't believe she got to bear witness to such a pure and innocent relationship. It was much like her own and reminded her of the times she and Pietro were practically attached at the hip.

It was a beautiful thing to watch, and Natasha and Wanda tried their best not to interrupt, unless it was time for dinner or bed.

Some days, Bunny liked to help in the garden. It was one of her favorite things—stepping out onto the soil with bare feet, feeling the earth beneath her toes. She’d spend hours digging in the dirt, searching for worms or hidden treasures, completely absorbed in her little world. Natasha quickly realized that despite her sensitivity, Bunny was fearless about everyday things. The girl would fearlessly pick up earthworms, let ladybugs crawl on her hand, and splash in muddy puddles without a second thought.

“These things don’t hurt like people do,” Bunny had once said quietly, holding up a wiggling worm for Natasha to see.

The words had hit Natasha hard. They made sense, of course, but hearing them out loud from someone so young was a painful reminder of the life Bunny had known before coming here. Natasha had nodded, kneeling in the dirt beside her, and gently patted her shoulder. “No, they don’t,” she had agreed, her voice soft. “And they never will.”

Bunny’s simple observation had lingered with Natasha. It was clear that Bunny was beginning to make sense of her world, finding safety in the quiet, predictable things like the garden. There, she could be herself—fearless, curious, and free from the weight of her past.

As the day wound down and the evening sky darkened, the girls went through their bedtime routine—Faith brushing her teeth while Bunny carefully picked out a book for the night. Wanda read to them, her voice soft and soothing, as the girls settled under their covers. The house was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of blankets and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.

Bunny woke with a start. She blinked around the room as her hands swept across the sheets blindly. She grabbed at the purple elephant clutching it to her chest. Her back was sweaty and she felt immensely hot. She tried to catch her breath as she sat up.

Usually, when she had night terrors she would run to Faith's room and crawl under the covers. She would force herself into the older girl's arms until she scared the nightmares away. Bunny loved her big sister for that. This time though she wanted more.

She pushed back the covers and slid off her bed. The floor was cool on her bare feet as she walked quietly towards the door. She opened it as softly as she could. The hallway was dark and her heart pounded in her chest. She took a few steps, the plush carpet silencing her footsteps.

The door to Natasha and Wanda's bedroom was cracked. Bunny paused. It was quiet and dark in there. She could tell both women were sleeping. She debated on whether or not she was allowed inside the bedroom. No matter how many times they assured her she was she just couldn't do it. She stood there, her hand reaching for the door.

Her hand hovered over the handle and her breath hitched in her throat. She padded over to Wanda's side of the bed. Her knees sank into the carpet and her fingers clutched the edge of the comforter. Her face was close to Wanda's. The woman's breathing was even. Her red hair was strewn across her pillow. Bunny took a shaky breath and leaned over, pressing her hand against the woman's shoulder.

Wanda stirred. She turned her head towards the girl, blinking. She had half a mind to be surprised by the child, but she knew better than to let it show. She'd gotten used to the occasional night visitor. "Hi, honey." She tried to see Bunny's face through the darkness. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Bunny frowned. She wanted to speak and tell Wanda all of her fears. Instead, she signed. It's another thing they'd been practicing extensively for moments like this. "I can't sleep."

"Oh." Wanda sat up. "Did you have a bad dream?"

The little girl nodded and bit her lip. She didn't want to talk about her dreams. She was scared to think about them.

"Well, how about I come and sit with you for a while?" Wanda suggested. She glanced behind her to see Natasha still asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, even though she probably wouldn't mind, Wanda threw the covers from her body and sat up straight. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms.

Bunny's heart swelled with hope.

Wanda looked down and reached for the girl's hand. "Come on, let's go get a glass of water and we can sit in the living room." As they began to walk, Bunny tugged at her arms.

"I have to pee first," Bunny said quietly. Her voice croaked, filled with sleep and lack of use.

Wanda chuckled. "Okay, sweetie. Then we'll get a glass of water." Wanda stood outside of the bathroom, one leg crossed in front of the other as she waited. She eyed the hallway, wondering if Faith was having just as much trouble as her sister, when her thoughts were interrupted by the flushing of the toilet.

The door opened and Bunny appeared, rubbing her tired eyes. She held the woman's hand as they walked to the kitchen. Wanda poured them each a cup of water.

"I'm sorry," Bunny whispered, her voice cracking. "For waking you up."

"That's okay, Bunny. You know I don't mind," Wanda said softly, handing her a cup. "I'm here whenever you need me."

Bunny drank from her water cup, downing it as if her life depended on it. She passed Wanda the cup and waited patiently for their next steps.

"Do you wanna tell me what your dream was about?" Wanda asked, leading the girl into the living room.

Bunny shook her head. She sat beside Wanda on the couch and looked over at her expectantly. Wanda could see that the little girl was exhausted. She wished she kept better track of how the little one was sleeping.

"Okay," Wanda sighed. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She looked over the girl and watched her shoulders droop. "Do you want to come over and sit in my lap? I heard it's pretty comfy."

Bunny grinned and nodded. She climbed into Wanda's lap and buried her head into the woman's neck. Wanda could feel the warm breath on her neck and her heart clenched. She dared to raise a hand and run her hair over Bunny's head. The girl's hair was a mess, tangling in the woman's fingers. It wasn't often she'd let anyone touch her hair so they made do with the times she would allow Faith to run a comb through it. It was almost time again.

Bunny seemed to enjoy the physical contact. She reveled in Wanda's warmth. Her body was tired, but she couldn't sleep. She didn't want to.

"Are you scared?" Wanda whispered, her fingers gently playing with the tail end of Bunny's braid.

Bunny's nod was hesitant.

"What are you scared of, my love?" Wanda kissed her temple.

"I don't want the mean people to take me away from you." Bunny admitted. "I want you to keep being my Mama."

"Oh, baby." Wanda wrapped her arms around her tighter. "I will keep being your Mama for a very long time." It wasn't often Bunny used that title. Faith never. Wanda's heart never failed to soar whenever she heard Bunny call either one of them those words.

"Promise?" Bunny lifted her head and looked up at her.

"I promise, honey." Wanda cupped her cheek and wiped a stray tear. "There's no getting rid of me."

"At my old house, my mama didn't sit with me after I had a nightmare," Bunny said. There was no emotion in her voice. It's simply a fact for her. She was telling Wanda something she knew and she was expecting her to understand. "Only Faith."

Wanda nodded. "I will sit with you after every nightmare."

"You don't get mad when I don't talk," Bunny spoke again. Another fact for her. "Even though it's hard."

"Of course, I don't." Wanda kissed the top of her head. "What emotion are you feeling right now? Can you tell me?"

Bunny scrunched her nose, her eyebrows pulled together. "I don't know."

"Is it a good one or a bad one?" Wanda asked, hoping to help the girl identify her emotions.

"Happy," Bunny answered.

"Happy," Wanda repeated. She hadn't expect that answer.

"I'm happy because I get to be with you," Bunny explained. "Riley has a Mama that hugs her all the time. Whenever she wants."

Wanda smiled. She'd met Riley, one of the few kids Bunny was willing to play with. Bunny nuzzled deeper into Wanda's arms.

"Mama."

"Yes, Bunny?"

"Can you do your magic?" Bunny asked. She noticed Wanda's hesitation. "I want to see."

Wanda grinned and held up her hand. Red wisps appeared.

Bunny was mesmerized by the sight. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen. She watched, her mouth gaping open as the wisps danced around her fingers. It was warm and inviting. "Riley's mama can't do that." She said.

"No, she can't," Wanda whispered.

Bunny's eyes drooped and her breathing became more even. She rested her head on Wanda's chest and her hands gripped her shirt.

"Sleepy?"

"I think so," Bunny mumbled.

"Do you wanna try going back to bed?" Wanda offered.

"No," Bunny shook her head.

"Okay, let's stay here for a little bit," Wanda said. "And when you're ready, we can go back to bed."

Bunny nodded.

Wanda began to stroke Bunny's arms, slowly rocking her, soothing whatever fears she had. The girl was nearly asleep and Wanda could have sworn she heard her hum in delight.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually, Bunny's breathing had evened out. Wanda looked down to see the girl fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. She smiled to herself, her heart feeling full. So this is what true love felt like.

[unholyhelbig]

the oversight part 5? i love that series!

Title: The Oversight [Part 5/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7589

Warnings: Blood, guns, general violence, empty threats, angst, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: Listen, I straight up just finished watching 'The Iron Claw' and if you value your ability to hold it together, I suggest not seeing it. But also... go see it because it's phenomenal. Oh, and Happy Holidays!, like with most things, I regret my direction on this.]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Softly, you denied the small wooden bowl that was passed person to person, filled with numbers scribbled haplessly on strips of paper. There was a pit of guilt in your stomach for not bringing a white elephant gift- but as the honorary plus one of Darcy Lewis you succumbed to your fate. She’d drawn a middle grade number and sidled up next to you with her third vodka tonic.

You took a swallow of your own cranberry flavored drink, something that masked the sharp taste of alcohol. You were feeling fuzzy, but in the light way that would assure you’d get through the rest of party and the competitive game of gift swapping.

“Thanks for doing this,” Darcy said to you, nudging your shoulder “it was a little too fancy for my liking.”

She had stressed that she needed your presence to get through all the small talk about science. Darcy was an expert engineer but she could only go so far when it came to awkward co-workers murmuring amongst the twinkling Christmas lights and pre-paid meals. She got along well with most, but you could sense her anxiety well.

“Of course, you know I’d never turn down smoked salmon.”

Truthfully, it sounded a lot better than what your own work was planning. It took some quiet background checks and calling babysitting references, but you eventually conceded to a teenage girl that was certified in CPR and didn’t charge interest.

Your own holiday celebration at the Diner had been lackluster and consisted of much more alcohol. This was quiet and subdued, and a welcome break from the usual chaos that surrounded your life. You were more than happy to watch people tear paper from candles and blankets and ornaments.

“How much money do you want to put on Jimmy bringing some sort of magic kit?”

You hadn’t noticed the girl that hugged the side of the bar, waving down the bartender wordlessly. She was drinking something sweet and garnished with orange. She had a beautiful smile and the clearest eyes you had ever seen. Darcy smiled at her with familiarity and it eased you.

“I don’t bet on things I’m going to lose.” Darcy said with finality. “Y/n, this is Monica Rambeau.”

“It’s nice to meet you,”

Her grip was firm, and you squeezed her hand back with the same amount of pressure. Her smile widened at that before the bartender returned with a fresh drink garnished with another twirled orange peel. The two of you separated.

“So, Monica, what do you do?”

Something in science, the answer was obvious if she was at this holiday party. But she humored you all the same, turning her back to the counter and leaning close to you. There was pride in her answer, and it bloomed in her chest.

“I’m a mechanical engineer, specializing in astrophysics and astrobiology.”

“Don’t’ sell yourself short.” Darcy interjected with a watery laugh “She’s the head of our S.W.O.R.D division.”

Darcy had spoken about this before and the name rang familiar. Her company was looking at alternative fuel sources that could supply space exploration. All the while, they focused on vertical growing and bettering the community. From what you understood, this was a big deal. She was a big deal.

“Wow, that’s very impressive Ms. Rambeau”

Your voice was filled with genuine awe, but your conversation was cut short when the number sixteen was called out. Monica sheepishly pulled herself away from the bar and held her strip of paper up before approaching the table filled with wrapped gifts. She went for a medium-sized one adorned in reindeer.

“Oh wow!” She forced a smile, voice sweet like honey “A magic kit!”

The air in your room was stale and fought you as you pulled it into your lungs. You’d, at some point, kicked off your comforter and were splayed out on your sheets in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and an oversized shirt. Sweat hat soaked through both and the fabric clung to your skin.

On a blind instinct you grabbed at the gun under your nightstand, fastened by nothing more than duct tape. You could feel your heart in your throat and struggled to swallow it down again. You weren’t sure when this became second nature for you, something within the last two months of accompanying Natasha to the gun range for hours a time.

All the same, you held the tip of the weapon to the ground and rounded the corner of your bedroom into the dark hallway. You were unsettled from the dream you’d just had. The memory. Your subconscious had finally connected the woman who stood at Carol’s side. Her familiarity.

Monica Rambeau.

It was true, there was a stark coldness to her when you’d met at a Christmas party just the year before. It was only in passing and there were moments, like at the fair, when Darcy would mention her co-worker.

This changed things. Anxiety spiked haplessly, even as you diligently searched and cleared each room the way you had been taught. Keep your gun down, keep your eyes on the darkest corners of the room, ready to fire your weapon at any point. Especially if it was aimed at Natasha.

There was the slight movement of a shadow to your left and you quickly raised the gun, aiming it directly at the disturbance. Veronica stood on a chair in the kitchen, struggling to fill a glass with warm water, the only temperature that the faucet would allow.

You let out a quiet, mortified sigh before tucking the weapon into the waistband of your shorts. Your daughter blinked with wide eyes and that same guilty feeling flooded you at once, overtaking the anxiety.

“Baby,” You breathed, closing the distance between you and flicking on the overhead lights. You both flinched at their harshness but eventually blinked the shock away. “What are you doing up?”

You didn’t expect an answer, nor did you get one. Instead, you scooped her up under her arms and set her gently on the linoleum. There was water in the fridge, but she always had issues pouring it from the large jug. Ronnie was stubborn and shot you a frown at your intrusion.

“Don’t give me that look, kid.”

Her expression eased and you dumped the water down the drain before refilling the glass with something colder and more refreshing. Ronnie gulped it down eagerly, soaking the collar of her shirt with the liquid. She let out an appeased noise and wiped the rest of the water away from her mouth. She stood on her tip-toes and placed the glass in the sink.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh? Me either.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She blinked tiredly at you, your heart melting at the sight. It was easy to remember the words Natasha had trusted you with on the Ferris Wheel. Veronica would talk when she wanted to, but you had become quite good at reading her expressions and movements. Within the last month, you had stopped the long drives and the specialists. It eased you both.

“How about a sleepover?”

The exhaustion turned into joy and then combined within her look. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you scooped her up. She was getting too big for this, but you didn’t much care. You’d gotten stronger in the last few months and even if you hadn’t, you’d do the same.  

With a show of dramatics you tossed her onto the bed and replaced the duvet that you’d flung off. Carefully, as Ronnie’s stare averted, you placed the gun in the drawer next to your bed. The last thing you did was prop the window open, letting out the flat air and letting in the sound of the city.

Ronnie was pulled flush against your chest in a matter of moments, though you had suddenly lost all exhaustion. You listened to the sirens, to the calls of people just ending their nights. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the horns of the boats that settled into the harbor.

“I love you so much.” You whispered into the small of her neck, “One day I’m going to get us out of here.”

Veronica didn’t respond, but the squeeze her little hand gave yours was all the reassurance that you needed.

Clint swallowed down steaming black coffee without blowing on it to cool it down. The nutty scent filled the cab of the car and warmed your nerves. He drank like your daughter did, but with the purpose of waking himself up before the sun. You never did get back to sleep and were wired enough to refuse the cup he offered you this morning.

He’d knocked on your door as the orange sun moved over the horizon. You were to accompany him to the docks to check on business. This somehow seemed less intimidating than the dinner you’d attended with Natasha.

“It’ll be easy. We have a chokehold on the harbor, we just have to check with a few of the vendors to collect their dock rent and call it a day. Everything else is done under the table. People aren’t too happy because at the end of the day, we’re the ones that take money from them. But it’s a necessary evil.”

You nodded and watched as the city went by. It was peaceful, quiet. There had been a single foster home that you stayed in that had a view of the entire skyline. You were too far away to see the bustling people and the everyday chaos that accompanied it.

There were, of course, moments of calm when you would work the early morning shift at the diner. But that would always shatter by the time you made the two minute walk from your apartment to the back door that was choked with the scent of garbage and cheap cigarettes.

“We have some invitations to hand out too. In the glovebox.”

You furrowed your brow and popped it open. His weapon (or his second, or third) sat upon a stack of manilla cards with elegant writing on them that had to be done by hand. You inspected them but didn’t’ dare separate the paper.

“What are these for?”

“Nat throws a party for her benefactors every single year. It’s real fancy, a suit and tie thing. Her renters are invited too and if they have the balls to show up, they always have a good time. She makes sure of it.”

“We’re expected to attend?”

He nodded, “It’s a requirement, really. As Natasha’s right hand. You go where she goes and once your probationary period is over, you’ll be on her like glue. Though, I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

You frowned at his statement, his insinuation. Sure, you had gotten close to Natasha, had even grown to like her. She had a way of getting under your skin until it felt like she lived in it. Otherwise, you would have cut your losses long ago and let her slit your throat the first moment she met you.

There was a feeling of devotion that you felt the need to uphold. She had spared your life, after all. You’d spent the last two and a half months with her guiding you, teaching you how to obey her every word. Without fault, you would. Clint knew it, Kate and Yelena knew it. You knew it.

Instead of admitting it, you frowned and slumped further in your seat, struggling to ignore Clint’s own shit-eating expression. By the time he pulled to a stop, it had started to drizzle enough for him to flick his wipers on. The sound of them scraping against the window filled the silence.

You took careful attention to stay quiet and observe. Your gun was strapped carefully to your side and the invitations rested in your side pocket. You didn’t dare get them wet and let the ink run in a soupy mess. It had been years since you’d been out here and part of you was unsteady on the aged and slick wood.

“Sam is a cool guy. His family has hold on a good portion of the harbor. He likes to joke, so don’t pay him any mind.” Clint jabbed you with his elbow. “And loosen up a little bit, would you?”

You glowered at him and rubbed the stiff spot on your ribs but felt your shoulders lower a bit. There was a lot of weight behind this, that had been made clear to you the second you were inducted into this system.

Instead of heading directly down the long stretches of worn dock, Clint took a turn just before the asphalt ended. A small structure that looked less weathered than the rest of your surroundings rested at the lots end. The windows were thick enough to withstand the watery winds.

Clint stilled his large hand shooting out across your chest. It took you a few seconds to clock the shattered glass on the front door. Small smears of crimson pocked the shards that remained. Much like the evening before, you drew your gun on instinct, and Clint did the same.

He didn’t take care to hide your presence. Instead, he took the brunt of his large boot and cracked through the doorframe with the force of one kick. Wood splintered, raining down on linoleum and a desk that was easily from the 70’s.

You could smell the blood before you saw it, nearly sliding on the flooring. You caught yourself before that happened, heart pounding in your ears. “Fuck!”

“Jesus Christ,” Clint mirrored your sentiments.

Whoever had been here was long gone, but they’d left quite the mess. They’d torn through the filing cabinets, leaving legal papers and folders scattered against the desk and the expanse of cabin space.

You tracked the source of the pooling blood with little difficulty. A man- one that you had rightly never seen before- was laying on his back, facing the ceiling. From edge to edge of his throat was a long cut leaking an ugly red color. His stare was frosty, soaked into his sweatshirt.

It was like a car crash, something that you struggled to avert your eyes from until Clint physically grasped your chin and turned your attention to him. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. Good.” You answered cooly, swallowing whatever dryness was in your throat. “Who would do something like this?”

“Carol… one of her lackeys. This is an eye for an eye thing.”

Even if it was an act of revenge, this was extensive. It sent a clear message even if you didn’t’ exactly know all the specifics of the feud. Of course, you’d seen Yelena at work and even that was mild compared to the brutality of this.

The thought of Monica, if it even had been her, completing a task as unfeeling as this filled your veins with ice. You felt your nails dig into your palms, soft and stinging. There was a surge of anger, and sadness that mixed into resolution. Natasha was right to despise the Danver’s family. Any family that treated the world with this much cruelty.

Natasha was in the gym on the second floor. Large windows overlooked the backyard, and a prolonged view of the harbor. There were blue mats adorning the floor, and a few wracks meant for weightlifting.

You had never seen this part of the house before. Usually the weather permitted sparring outside, but the late summer rain had made that impossible. Sheets of water obscured your usual view, though, it wasn’t exactly trained on the windows.

Natasha had her back facing you, her breathing timed evenly with each punch she threw at an 80-pound bag filled with sand. She wore tight-fitting shorts and a sports bra that left little to the imagination. Not that you had imagined her in that situation before.

Her muscles tightened and relaxed with each movement. They were scarred in a deep orchid pink, long ago healed. At one point, she was lashed. You recognized the damage done by a leather belt and shivered at the memory of it.

Natasha was fit, she was coated in a layer of sweat that dripped across her strength. You had to be clear minded for this and the state of her wasn’t making it easy on you. Her knuckles were wrapped, and she would grunt with each thrust of her fist. For just a moment, you wished you were under her mercy instead of the punching bag.  

That broke when she panted against the bag, stopping its swinging with a firm grasp on either side. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”

Natasha had focused her green eyes on you through the reflection of the window. Of course, you hadn’t intended to gawk as long as you had. But you were leaning against the doorframe of the gym, practically drooling. You had forgotten yourself and you wouldn’t’ put it past Natasha to notice.

She turned to you, a wolfish smile on her face. “Take your jacket off. Holster too.”

You struggled to ignore the haughty expression on her face when you did exactly what she said without question, almost too eagerly, depositing them on the edge of the mat. You pushed your shoes off too, knowing not to track mud on any of Natasha’s carpets.

Her eyebrow lifted at the action. She’d moved closer during your actions, and you’d nearly run into her before noticing. Her presence was intoxicating. All-consuming.

“You’re here to tell me something,” She proclaimed “you’ve got that adorable look on your face. It’s good to know someone in this house still fears me.”

She was joking and it tugged at your heart to send that mood down to the ground before lighting it on fire. You’d expected her to be in poorer spirits after Clint had called her and let her know what had happened at the harbor. Instead, she responded in her same calculated coolness that she regarded you with now.

There was nothing about her demeanor that eased you, and suddenly, it felt like you were being scolded for a decision you had made. Even more so when she grasped your chin and forced you to look at her.

“That woman with Carol from the other night. I know her. Briefly.”

“Briefly?”

“As in, I met her at a Christmas party a few years back and… left with her.”

Natasha’s grip tightened against your chin, her thumb digging into your jaw. There was too much alcohol flowing that night and after making stinted conversation about how to disconnect two metal rings smoothly, the two of you went back to her apartment.

Before the sun came up, you left. There was shame in it, and the walk back to your own apartment punctuated with Darcy’s scolding was enough to make you forget the encounter altogether. It was one night- a fun night, but singular all the same.

Natasha let out a small noise of disapproval that sunk straight to your core. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does she remember you?”

“It… didn’t seem like it.”

Her eyes narrowed, nose a short distance from your own. You could feel the hotness of her breath against your throat. How you had disappointed her. That much was clear from the lack of tenderness in her grasp. She eventually released you, trailing her fingers down the expanse of your neck.

She played with the small charm of your necklace, nothing more than a dainty gold chain with the tiniest whisper of a diamond in the center. Your skin prickled at the sensation, breath audibly catching as she worked her fingers over the length of chain.

“Well, I suppose this could be a problem. Especially with Carols violent behavior lately.”

Natasha sighed dramatically, and within an instant her nimble hand had tightened around your throat. She walked you the three steps backwards to the nearest wall. The small of your back landed with a heady thud and you used the last of your available breath to grunt out in protest.

Of course, you had seen her angry before, but it was never directed at you. Not like this. She wasn’t squeezing tight enough to injure you, not really. But the shock of the movement had made you think she would end you all the same.

“You should have come to me right away, pet.” Her grasp tightened; words growled. “And here I thought you were such a good, obedient, girl.”

Her words filled you with an immense shame for letting her down. Over the past few months, it had become impossible to be anything but perfect for Natasha Romanoff. The fact that you hadn’t connected the dots sooner was disillusioning.

The grip against your throat loosened ever so slightly as she leaned closer, her lips nearly ghosting your own. You could barely taste her, a strangled whimper escaping you. She pressed her body close. It was warm and overwhelming.

“I expect you to handle this on your own if it becomes a problem, darling.”

Before you could close the distance, Natasha pulled away from you entirely. It left you panting against the wall, wanting for something more. She knew exactly what she was doing. You craved her more than anything, and she had brought you so close to something you both wanted before denying it altogether.

Natasha sauntered, actually sauntered, across the gym and grabbed a towel from a nearby bench. She regarded you with flushed cheeks, her eyebrow raised as if nothing had just happened and you supposed that nothing did.

“Clint has told you about the party?” It took a few seconds before you found your voice, after her gentle urgings “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes ma’am. He did.”

She reached for a water bottle, exchanging it’s spot on the bench for the towel. She takes three hungry swallows, and you watched the way her throat moved in response to the water. Each of her movements seemed deliberate, nearly calculated to get a reaction out of you.

“Perfect. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours about what to wear. I’ll lay a dress out in your room.”

“My room?” Your words were squeaked.

There was a short hum in response as she gulped down another helping of water before setting it down entirely. That anger had ebbed away from her almost entirely. The fire that had been within her eyes excited you, and despite yourself, so did her demands.

“You’re so skittish. Come here. We need to work on your lead hook.”

Natasha didn’t offer to wrap your knuckles, nor did you ask. Instead, you leaned into the bag, letting the course material cut into your knuckles with a welcoming sting.

There was great thought put into any Romanoff party that was thrown. Lights were wrapped around the banister, and caterers walked through the teems of people with unwavering silver trays of finger food that cost more than your old salary for a number of months.

Back storm doors were opened to the pool, lit up and buzzing with an equal amount of people. Natasha had hired a piano player who haplessly pressed down on keys and drew a small crowd with each song that would crescendo into the dining room.

The overlapping theme was a dark forest green that reminded you much of the paint color slathered on Natasha’s bedroom walls. Something you hadn’t seen in months, but remembered so fondly. It was clear that she wanted to present a united force, something strong and unwavering in their power.

Clint was dawned with a finely pressed suit and a deep green tie that matched the shade of Kate’s dress to the very hue. She wore something silk and modest, reaching down to her heeled feet but leaving her muscular arms entirely bare.

Yelena stunned in a dress of her own, a crushed sage velvet that had a dipping neckline and sleeves that met at her wrist. By the confidence of her stride, you had no trouble believing she had chosen the outfit with the thought of how many weapons she could conceal. Her devilish smile only confirmed your thoughts.

As of you, Natasha had picked out something a little more revealing. Much like the maroon number she wore to dinner the other night, the dress she chose for you hugged every inch of your body. Its fern color complimented your complexion, bringing out the redness of your cheeks.

A slit moved from the base of your dress to the middle of your thigh. A halter neckline clung to your breasts, nearly pushing them up and out. It had been years, high school prom, since you’d worn something even close to this. You felt your shoulders flush red when you descended the stairs and struggled to blend in.

Natasha was sidled up by the mantel in deep conversation with someone who was a stranger to you. Most of the people here were. Though, their hands gave way to their high-ranking positions in the city. Few had callouses or oil stains.

She was in a three-piece suit that was color matched to your own outfit down to the shade. There were gold accents on her jewelry and the neckline of her waistcoat dipped down the tanned expanse of her skin.

Kate let out a low whistle in response to your entrance as she offered you a hand at the base of the stairs. You’d almost missed the last one due to your shameless gawking at the woman of the party. “Quite the looker, y/n. Natasha chose this?”

“Naturally,”

She chuckled softly, a small sound “Nothing if not calculating. Do you know how to socialize at one of these things?”

“Mm, as the caterer, yes.”

This seemed to amuse her more than you’d like. Katherine Elizabeth Bishop was a name that you had reluctantly googled early on in your employment. She had grown up wealthy and well acquainted with gatherings such as these. Of course, that was before her mother wound up incarcerated for white-collar crimes. The skills seemed to benefit her here, however.

Kate did everything with practiced fluidity that you envied. She plucked two champagne glasses from a nearby tray. “Only one of these, nurse it like your life depends on it. That way they won’t keep trying to shove alcohol into your hands. This is work, after all.”

You followed her lead and took a small sip of the bubbling, sour liquid. It was more expensive than anything you had ever had before and far-from-palatable. It wouldn’t be had to keep the drinking at bay.

“The man that Yelena is schmoozing over there is Billy Russo. Jigsaw. He’s in charge of the lower quarter. The Romanoff’s and the Russo’s have a cordial relationship and Yelena is much more feared than him.”

“Why do they call him jigsaw?” You whispered.

“He tends to chop people into pieces until they’re impossible to put back together. And that’s if you find all the missing parts. He has a very nice summer home up in the Poconos, so don’t get on his bad side.”

Suddenly the drink in your hand didn’t look too bad, but you held it right where it was. Clint was laughing by the window, obviously pushing his charm on a woman that you had never clocked before. She was running her fingers up his tie, tightening it before letting her hands drop.

“Barton is with Ophelia Sarkissian, the Viper. She is known for her cunning leadership. She’s got a huge organization in Hell’s Kitchen. Something called Hydra. I wouldn’t worry too much about it though because Natasha is keeping a tight eye on it.”

“Mm, cut one head off, two more grow back.”

“What?”

“Greek mythology. Hydra is a big water snake that has nine heads. Each time one was cut off two more would grow back in its place. It was practically unkillable until Hercules came through the marshes with his nephew. Hercules would slice each head off while Iolaus cauterized the wounds so the heads couldn’t grow back.”

Kate blinked at you with shock in her eyes. You simply gave her a shrug in return. People constantly underestimated you and your intelligence. Besides, when you were a child, you had a morbid fascination with Greek mythology as a whole.

She stared beyond your shoulder, lilting her head to the side.

“I didn’t realize that Natasha’s new plaything was so knowledgeable.”

Ice ran thorough your veins. Your eyes darted to the window where Clint and Mrs. Sarkissian had once been. It was vacant now, and an expertly painted hand drummed past your arm. They were sharp and sent chills down your spine as she rounded you, sidling up next to Kate.

“Trust fund kid, leave us.”

Kate drew in a sharp breath, straightening her shoulders. She nearly opened her mouth to stay something but thought better of it before shooting you a look of apology and vanishing into the crowd in the dining room.

Ophelia was intoxicating in her presence. She towered over you and wore snakeskin heels to widen the distance. She wore a tight-fitted black dress that had cuts on either side, exposing her toned stomach to the world. What she wanted with you wasn’t clear, but her hand toyed coyly with the neckline of your own dress, adjusting it.

“Word travels fast in this city. I just couldn’t wait to see it myself. Hearing that Natasha Romanoff of all people expelled her Winter soldier for a… Summer Sentient. All seasons are temporary, I suppose.”

“Expelled?”

The word had slipped from your tongue, and you quickly thought better of it when she settled her splayed hand against your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. It was cold, unfeeling. Unlike the fire that Natasha had instilled in you earlier.

There was a demonic smile that spread across her face, both of her eyebrows lifting as she let out an exaggerated grasp. It was clear that this woman, this leader, couldn’t keep her hands to herself in any manner, including the internal affairs that she dangled in front of you like a prize.

“Oh, did Natty not tell you? She had Bucky under her thumb for years, nearly a decade. A few months back, he was just gone. There’s a lot of gossip in these streets and not much of it is plausible, but I’d put money on this one.”

 Again, her fingers danced over your collarbone. “Miss Romanoff is not known for her mercy, but after beating the Winter Soldier within an inch of his life, she let him go. He ran like any sensible man would, of course. But he left a trail of blood behind him. I’m quite sure he’s somewhere out west struggling to move in an upper body brace.”

She laughed cruelly at the look on your face. There was no use in masking it. You knew that Bucky had been absent, but through your own turmoil you had forgotten all about it. Your stomach twisted in unease. What if Natasha grew tired of you? It was inevitable, really. You’ only prolonged your fate by bending to her whim.

“Ophelia,” Natasha’s voice drew your attention first, and then the heat of her touch on the small of your back. “Have you tried the lamb?”

The woman faltered, gritting her teeth “I was about to.”

“Oh, you must.” Yelena seemed to materialize out of nowhere, looping her arm around Madame Hydra herself. She pulled with intent. “I haven’t seen you since Moscow. We need to catch up!”

“I was never in Moscow.”

“That’s a shame. I can paint you a brilliant picture.”

Their voices faded away into the rest of the party. It was then that you noticed Clint by the door, his stance stiffened. Kate glowered next to him, not following her own rule and downing the rest of her drink before plucking another off the passing tray.

You stepped out of Natasha’s grasp, not wanting to be anywhere near her at the moment. Her perfume was intoxicating. Its floral scent made you dizzy and took away your ability to think straight. It was part of the reason you had been lulled this far into complicity. It scared you that you were willing to do anything for her.

“y/n,” she urged.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Natasha’s stare hardened. She gripped the back of your neck in a movement that would otherwise be familiar, sweet, even. However, the way she led you down the hallway made your stomach drop in a feeling of doom. “Not here, Malen'kiy krolik.”

Natasha’s office was strictly off limits, but you found yourself in the warmth of it in a matter of moments. There was no wall that wasn’t adorned with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a large cherrywood desk was at its head. It was kept neat like the rest of the house.

There was a PHD on the wall, and an associates under that. Each bore Natasha’s name. She closed the doors behind her. Without regarding you, she went to a shelf in the back of the room, pouring herself a glass of bourbon, much like the one she was drinking when you stirred in her bed.

She swallowed it back, before pouring another. This time she sipped it. Your own back was against the far wall, heart pounding mercilessly through you. Yelling at Natasha had a lot more weight behind it than you anticipated.  

“You’re going to do the same to me.” You eventually whispered.

Her body stiffened, muscles tightening and then releasing before she turned to you, her eyes reddened. “What?”

“I’ve been entirely blind to my purpose here. I’ve never… I’ve never understood why you chose me. Why not go for someone who knows what they were doing? Who knew how to protect you and care for you? You had that with Bucky.”

Her eyes hardened. “Don’t you ever mention that name in this house.”

“It’s the truth, Natasha! You could have let me die, just like that, and you didn’t. Instead, you took me in and trained me, and for what? Just to throw me into the harbor with cement blocks chained to my ankles.”

“That is an entirely outdated practice and frankly, it’s insulting.” Her words were soul deep, but they barely broke your skin. “I would never do that.”

“A bullet through the head, then?”

“No.”

You were gaining traction enough to pull yourself from the wall and take heady steps towards her. If you didn’t do it now, you would never. Part of you was certain that you’d never see the outside of this room again. That she’d snap and do exactly what you were imploring her to.

“He served you for years and within a singular night you nearly kill him.” Your breath shook, you were so close to her now. “What is stopping you from doing the exact same to me?”

“No, no” She reached up and grasped both sides of your face. There were tears against your cheeks, something you hadn’t realized dripped from your chin. “Malyshka, no don’t cry.”

Everything had come to a head; the months of non-stop training, the pressure of keeping this side of your life away from your daughter, away from Darcy. A true friend that you had been lying to. And now, knowing that it could be all for nothing. It was easy to dispose of someone like you.

There was no reason to show weakness in front of the woman who was training you not to feel anything at all. Above everything, you found yourself ashamed. She still held your face within her grasp.

“He hurt you.” Her jaw clenched and unclenched, there was a fuzzy vulnerability in her green stare. “I can show mercy, y/n. But I’ve learned, not when it comes to you. Even before all of… this, there was something that I saw within you. Something that made what I did to Bucky all the more worth it.”

You breathed in a watery sniffing sound that was replaced by nothing but a whimper. Natasha softened even more, letting her shoulders fall. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He was pulling back for months, and you were the final straw. I had never seen someone so resilient, someone who didn’t beg for their life but recounted it. In a moment of weakness, I let you go. I thought that training you, that making you mine, would absolve my sins but it’s only deepened them. My feelings for you have only deepened.”

Her forehead was pressed against yours, her ministrations, and God help you, her apologies were startling. Her lips were so close to yours; you could nearly taste the liquor on her breath “Natasha,”

Suddenly, she was all you could feel. Her hand was against you back, pulling you into her body to fit directly on hers. There was such a strong guiding power to her. Your shock was muffled by her mouth on yours, your whine swallowed in moments.

You melted into her, kissing back with enough fever to leave you both breathless. There were stars dancing in your vision, you lungs burning eventually pulling you both apart. She panted twice before pecking your lips once more, you nearly chased after her.

“Fuck,” she growled “you… are absolutely delicious.”

Your cheeks suddenly heated up and you hid your face in the small of her neck, letting out a small groan in embarrassment. You felt Natasha’s laugh rumble through her.

“No need to be timid, pet. There will be plenty of time for that later.” She raked her nails up your back, “Right now, I have a snake to behead.”  

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

[urhoneycombwitch]

living room lover’s rock

foreword: was in the mood for some domestic bitchy steddie x reader. that’s all

cw: no smut but sexual content (+18 as always), steddie established throuple/poly relationship, Steve’s kind of the sugar daddy, Reader with breasts, femme pet names used for R (princess, girl)

wc: 1.2k

___

It’s after six and Eddie’s got you pinned flat with his knee in your hip socket, hands dragging through each other’s hair, a proper couch spit-swapping session in full swing until the front door to the trailer slamming shut interrupts his rhythm.

“You two just couldn’t wait, huh?” Steve’s tone is husked with fatigue and admonishment as he hangs his jacket on the hall hook- must not be too upset, though, ‘cuz after toeing off his shoes he approaches the couch with head tilted in interest.

His fingers slip behind the knot of his tie, tugging it free from collared confines to hang loosely around his neck. His other hand plants itself on a hip as he stands over you and Eddie, watching, hunger brewing.

Eddie graciously attaches himself to the sweet spot behind your ear, freeing up your mouth to gasp and speak. “It- ah- it’s your boyfriend's fault. We were watching a movie and he stuck his tongue down my throat.”

Your accusation stands on grounds as shaky as your voice, and Eddie knows it, drawing back to nip at your collarbone before saying, “Didn’t hear you complaining, princess.”

“That’s because my mouth was occupied,” you snip, hands fisting tighter around the flannel of Eddie’s shirtsleeves.

In retaliation, Eddie pretends to eat your ear- chomping with loud and sloppy theatrics as you squeal and smack his ribs.

He’s still grinning like the devil when Steve sinks a knee to the carpet and gets a fistful of Eddie’s dark curls, pulling his head up and back by the roots, neck craned pale and lovely above you as Steve speaks. “Enough. You been torturing our girl, Eds?”

In response, you push up to your elbows, pressing fond kisses to either side of the Adam’s apple on display, held in place by Steve’s big hand as Eddie gulps around the sudden attention shift.

You almost feel bad for him, having been on the receiving end of the boys’ doubled focus many times before. But he did interrupt Sixteen Candles like, twenty minutes into the runtime- didn’t try very hard to wait for Steve at all, either- so you figure a bit of choice brown-nosing and light torment is called for.

“Been torturing me all day.” When your tone falls into that lilting, supplicating frequency that usually precedes something or someone coming, Eddie’s hands spasm around your hips (in warning, with pleading, anyone’s guess), a fruitless effort to get you to ease up.

Eddie’s chocolate eyes are half-lidded, not-quite panting but close to it as Steve leans closer, hints of the cologne you’d watched him tap delicately into his skin earlier this morning leftover and lingering in the shared air between the three of you as he purrs in Eddie’s ear- “Gonna say you’re sorry?”

Steve has introduced a fizzling swell of tension, growing as Eddie squirms against you and into the hold still tight in his hair; through the layers of denim, in the cradle of your hips, you can feel the stiff bulge of his cock growing stiffer by the second.

“Yeah, okay.” Remarkably well-behaved and compliant, Eddie rasps out his white flag, the grip in his hair loosed just enough so he can dip to press an appeasing kiss over your left breast (t-shirt sitting skewed and low from where he’d hastily pulled at it earlier). “Sorry ‘bout showing you a good time.”

It’s not even close to a well-rounded apology, but before you or Steve can catch him again Eddie’s sliding off and away, cool air flooding in as soon as he stands from where the warmth of his body was.

“She’s all yours, anyways, Harrington.” With kiss-bitten lips and wild hair, Eddie tugs at the front of his jeans before plunging into his pockets, feigning cool disinterest. “Gonna go out for a smoke.”

Steve settles into the couch cushion next to you, holding out an arm for you to tuck under. “Gonna wreck your lungs, Eddie.”

Adopting the same condescending tone, you add to the back retreating down the hall- “I won’t kiss you until you brush your teeth, Eddie.”

Eddie lifts a middle finger for each of you before the screen door slams shut behind him.

“Well he’s rude tonight,” Steve remarks, fondly, thumb working circles into the meat of your shoulder as he pulls you tighter to his side, arcing down for a kiss. “Good thing one of your boyfriends is a gentleman.”

Steve tastes like the sweet mint gum he always stows in his dash, with a hint of cherry chapstick. His cupid’s bow fits just right into the notch above your lips.

“Can’t really blame Eddie for his behavior,” you say, accusing again, this time with a softness that draws your nose into the curve of Steve’s neck. “Your stupid job kept you too late from us. Gonna make you quit soon.”

Steve huffs, irritated and amused- “If I don’t go to my stupid job then no more lights or water for our luxury palace.”

He stretches his legs towards the coffee table, hooking one ankle over the other, humming at the weight of you shifting further into his side.

You know he hates working for his dad, abhors the business-formal dress and the banality of numbers crunching; you also know that Steve likes providing. Needs to do it, an intrinsic part of his giving nature- he’ll work himself to the bone if it means you only have to work half shifts at the diner, if it allows Eddie to devote his free time to income-unrelated hobbies like D&D and the band.

“Gotta bring home the bacon,” Steve muses, rubbing absently at your upper arm, “God knows no one in this small-minded town will rent to our drug-dealing, delinquent, rumored-to-be satanist-”

“Hey.” The screen doors slams, Eddie drifting in on a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Watch it, pretty boy. Keep talkin’ and I’ll sic the devil on you.”

Steve sticks out his tongue, petulant. Eddie snaps menacingly at the air and flings himself down into the last spot on the couch, thigh pressed into Steve’s.

That simmering tension is back. You draw on your instigator tendencies, resting your elbow on Steve’s shoulder to wind a long lock of his chestnut hair around an index finger. “Aww. I think you two should kiss and make up.”

Lamplight glints off the silver hoops lining the shell of Eddie’s right ear, on his sharp canines as he grins, wolfish, leaning in to pucker at Steve.

With one last scathing eye roll, Steve gives in, guided by the push from your fingers at his temples- but the kiss doesn’t last more than two seconds before his head jerks away in disgust.

“Eugh. You forgot to brush!”

“Didn’t forget.” Smile turned shit-eating, Eddie jumps up from the couch “But I will for princess, here.”

He smacks a kiss to the crown of your head on his way to the bathroom. A moment later, the faucet spits on, and you turn to Steve, biting back a giggle at his less-than-enthused look.

“Asshole,” Steve mutters, but there’s a gentleness to it that makes you smile.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Ours, though.”

[lostbookmark]

WHISPERED SECRETS

MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS MASTERLIST here

MAIN MASTERLIST here

Summary: After four years your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive.

Pairing: Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader. Possessive Yoongi.

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance.

Warning: Explicit sex, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, unprotected sex, drinking, praising, degradation, spanking, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name, baby.

A/N: Welcome to my first story. This will have chapters. I just have to figure out how to add as I go. I'm so nervous! Let me know if I missed any warnings so I can add them.

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You clutch your phone in your hand tightly as you look around at your surroundings. Your other hand was preoccupied pulling down the too tight, too short dress you were forced into wearing. This is something that you have been doing all night. The thin, flimsy material kept riding up your thighs all night. The chilly wind kept blowing your hair in your face, making you have to shake it out of your face every 30 seconds. It was all so tiring and you just wanted to go home.

The sidewalk outside the bar is littered with drunk people stumbling away to their next destination in search of their next drink. Their faces lit by the luminescent sign in the dark night. It was only 10 o'clock on a Friday night, and you were already over it. You didn’t want to be there but your friend Lisa promised you some birthday shots. You didn't like shots but didn't want to let her down either. Unfortunately, she was your driver for the night, and you are pretty sure she ditched you. Great.

“Y/N?” A deep voice asked, making you jump slightly.

You whip head to the side where the deep voice comes from. Min Yoongi stood next to you with a question in his stare. Min Yoongi, your sister's ex-boyfriend. You were sixteen the first time you met him. He was eighteen when she first brought him home, declaring to you in secret that he was the love of her life. Gone was the slim, dark-haired teenager with a soft stare Yoongi. The man beside you with sharp eyes, ripped jeans, and silver hair almost made you second guess yourself. It's been four years since you last saw him. He was still beautiful.

“Yoongi,” you say so softly you think that he didn't hear you.

“I thought that was you when you walked out. Why are you out here alone?” He questioned you. The concern in his voice is evident. "Are you okay?"

Your phone beeped right as you were about to answer. You nodded your head sadly as your text message revealed what you already knew. “Hey sweets, went home with that hot guy from the bar. You're good to get home, right?” With a sigh, you reply with a thumbs up.

“My friend Lisa just ditched me. Happy birthday to me, I guess,” you say and give Yoongi a tight smile.

“It is your birthday, isn't it? Twenty-two now, right?” He asked with a smile on his face, and you just nodded your head in response. You feel the warmth of his body closer to you. When did he move closer? “Look at you all grown up now. ”

Min Yoongi didn't miss your birthday in the two years he was with your sister. He went out of his way to get you a cupcake and a little gift. He even lit a candle and made you make a wish. It was when you turned seventeen when you realized your small…… strike that, big crush on him. That was the day that you looked at him, and those butterflies came alive in your stomach

“You mean I'm no longer gangly with braces?” You asked yanking down the dress again.

“You were beautiful then, too. Do you need a ride? My car is just over there,” he asked with a flick of his hand, pointing his thumb behind him. His eyes swiftly move to watch you fix yourself once more. His eyes snap back up to your face with a gentle smile on his lips,“ I'll take you anywhere you want. Let's try and salvage this birthday for you.”

“I don't want to ruin your night. I..I can just take the bus,” you stammered. You didn't want him feeling bad for you. This was just embarrassing. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

He shook his head, held out his hand, and you hesitantly took it. He's warm and calloused, but it seems to fit perfectly. You were scared yours would be sweaty and be a dead giveaway on how nervous you were. If not a sweaty hand, the heat going to your face certainly was. You look up at Yoongi, and he gives you a knowing smirk. Yup, you were caught. He chuckled deeply and guided you to his car with hand on your lower back. Opening the door for you, he waited until you were all settled in the passenger seat before closing the door and getting in himself.

As he turned the car on, the lights on the dash illuminated his face. Min Yoongi, your sister's ex who she cried herself to sleep over after he broke up with her. She constantly stared at her phone for weeks, hoping that he would call her. He never did. She told you loudly one night that he was a loser. How she was so mad she lost two years to him. She never told you why he broke up with her. In fact, she didn't say much to you after that. She left home and moved five hours away not long after. You barely see her. You hope she's happy.

“Baby?” Yoongi's voice broke you out of your thoughts. He placed his hand on your bare thigh, gently moving thumb across your skin, causing goosbumps to race down over your body. “You okay?” You nod silently, yes. Your eyes are locked on his thumb. Gentle circles, making the heat in your face spread further down. You try not to squirm or press your thighs together, but the ache in your core is making it hard. Yoongi tilts your face up to look at him. Your heart is beating a hundred miles a minute as you stare into his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper. Again, you nod your head silently. Yoongi cups your face and brings you closer. His breath ghosts ever so lightly over your lips. “Happy birthday.” He presses his lip surely over yours.

You let yourself get lost in the kiss. You feel his tongue lick your bottom lip, and obediently, you open your mouth for him to explore. His skilled tongue massages against your own. These are kisses that you don't ever want to come back from. Kisses that are making you lightheaded, but you dont dare pull away. You moan into the kiss and tightly clutch his black jacket, pulling his to you. You need to feel him closer to you. His hand drops from your face back to your thigh. His fingertips run up and down the outside, inching just under the hem of the too short dress. You shiver and don't even hide pressing your legs together this time as you start to squirm in his passenger seat. Yoongi nips your bottom lip as he pulls away. You watch him slowly lick, then bit his bottom lip.

“Come home with me?” He asked. His voice is somehow even deeper and more gravelly than normal. Silently, you nod your head, yes.