#the amount of asks I've gotten for this guy

[spoonfulofmilo]

this is such a throwback, but ages ago, I made this moodboard

and now i've written a fic about it

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

susie wolff x mercedes driver!male!reader x toto wolff

“So, Y/N, straying away from your stellar on track performances…” Y/N could tell where this was going, but he was contractually obligated to stay and hear her out so he forced a grin and a nod towards the interviewer

“Yeah?”

“You obviously recently announced your relationship with your team boss, Toto Wolff and his wife Susie, congratulations by the way, I’m sure you’ve had a lot of questions surrounding it…”

“Yeah…” Y/N relaxed a little bit, this interviewer didn’t seem to be questioning the ethics or morality or team disputes in it, which was a welcome relief.

“I’m just wondering how the three of you avoid excluding someone, as this is quite common in trios and…”

“Sorry?”

“I just meant… well, there seemed to be a lot of events I can think of, just off the top of my head, such as the Mercedes gala last year, which Toto and Susie attended, obviously Lewis didn’t, but neither did you, which is a little surprising, and…”

Y/N’s mind immediately knew which event she was talking about as his mind flashed back to it…

—

“Hey, Liebe, we’re just heading out, we’ll be back.” Toto nodded at the kitchen as he straightened his tie in the hallway

“Oh, where are you going?” Y/N looked up from the data he’d been studying on the kitchen table. He was surprised to see Toto and Susie nicely dressed up. Surely he hadn’t forgotten about a date.

“Just some sponsor function.” Toto paused as he watched Y/N’s face fall. “They didn’t want to see the drivers, saw you guys as ‘too angry and irrational and stuck up’, otherwise you would be coming darling.”

“But… I- I could come, give me 10 minutes to get changed and i’ll be ready. Not as a driver, just as a Mercedes ambassador, surely?”

“Oh, sorry, darling. It’s not that kind of function. No Mercedes ambassadors are gonna be there, just bosses and partners…” Susie paused as Y/N tried to interject “I know, I know, but you’re not publicly out as our partner, and it would be odd of us to drag you along, as a driver.”

“Oh…it’s okay, yeah that’s fine… I’ll stay here, and get this work done…”

Y/N did not finish his work. He sat at the kitchen table staring at his work, thinking about where it all went wrong. He’d wanted to come out about their relationship since it began, but since it began not too long after he had signed for Mercedes, there were always going to be comments about him ‘sleeping his way to the top’. He thought he could deal with that.

But because Toto and Susie were older and supposedly knew better, and they had insisted that Y/N get settled at Mercedes, win a few championships, and then maybe the relationship could go public.

But…this gala wasn’t the first time this had happened. Y/N couldn’t even think to count the amount of dates he had missed out on because they’d been going out and he couldn’t be seen with them,

They made up for it, sure, and he had agreed to a private relationship, when he was young and cared more about people’s opinions than he did now.

—

“Sorry Y/N?”

“Um, y’know we manage, as I’m sure you’re aware, we wanted to keep our relationship private for a reason and attending galas that my other driver was not would have arised suspicion, I’m sure. Sorry. I’ve just checked the time, I think because of all the questions I’ve gotten, I’m running late for debrief, apologies.”

Y/N could tell that his press officer was looking at him oddly, knowing that debrief didn’t start for half an hour as Lewis had only just entered the media pen. But she could tell that something had agitated the driver and let him run off towards his driver room.

—

“Darling…where are you?”

Toto and Susie wandered through the hotel room, searching for any signs of Y/N in there.

They’d heard that Y/N had been spotted leaving the paddock an hour ago, backpack on, hood up, not talking to interviewers or taking photos with the kids.

And he hadn’t turned up to debrief. He called in and added a few hmms here and there on his engineer’s phone, but no face, and no real contribution to the conversation.

And now they were searching through the, initially welcome, now hindering large hotel suite they had for the weekend, trying to find their partner.

Jack was also helping the search, checking under all the couches and tables, until he went into the closet and loudly exclaimed “Y/N!”

Susie walked into the bedroom, seeing Y/N with tears still falling down his face, with his hood up, and a half packed open suitcase next to him, as he embraced Jack. He looked up, and Susie could see his red-rimmed eyes from here, and sobbed and held on tighter to Jack, burying his face in the little boy’s shirt.

Susie had a feeling she knew where this had come from. She slowly approached the boys and tried to extricate Jack from Y/N’s ironclad grip on the young boy. She felt Toto enter the room and come to the same conclusions that she had.

Y/N without speaking tried to plead with her, until he finally let go of Jack, and curled up in himself in a corner, hiding his face.

“Who said something, I’ll blacklist them from the paddock, liebe.” Toto immediately was pulling out his phone.

Susie didn’t think that was the way this conversation needed to go.

“Can’t blacklist the entire paddock Toto.” Y/N looked up and Susie got a first full proper look at his face, which was blotchy and red, and he’d clearly been crying for a while. He averted his eyes and started grabbing more clothes and haphazardly shoving them in the suitcase again.

“Darling, darling where has this come from? We know most of the paddock were gonna ask about the ethics of our relationship, and I don’t think that would’ve gotten you like this. We talked about how to call them out.”

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“Liebe, do you mean the team, because I really think that someone should’ve been in touch…”

“No, no, I’ll stick by the team if you still want my shitty results, I’m leaving the relationship.”

“What, liebe, you can’t just leave…”

“Why not? It’s not like you care about me anyway…” Y/N furiously wiped at the tears that were continuously falling down his face as he continued. “You’re always leaving me at home while you get to go on dates, and be seen together as a couple, meanwhile, I’m stuck at home…It’s…It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me cause you’re ashamed of me.”

“Oh, baby, we’re not ashamed of you. We could never be ashamed of someone so talented, and kind and open and passionate as you are. We were worried about how you would be treated if this relationship came out.”

That was all it took for Y/N to launch himself into Susie’s arms, sobbing, and clinging onto her. Susie rubbed his back, whispering soothingly as he sobbed, repeating over and over again ‘i’m sorry, i’m sorry’ and she soothed him reminding him again and again how much they loved her.

Toto crouched down, also, embracing his 2 partners “And liebing, your results are not shitty. I actually was contemplating making you the lead driver cause youre so close to challenging Max for the championship. I spoke with Lewis about it after the debrief and he agreed.”

“What? No, no. Lewis has won 7 world championships, Lewis, Lewis should be challenging Max. Getting revenge for 2021.”

“Lewis wants to support you. I was going to discuss it with you after debrief but you didn’t come.”

“I’m sorry, being a bratty driver.”

“We all have our off days. I think it’s part of being a driver, maybe Toto likes it and thats why he’s dating 2 of us.”

Y/N couldn’t help but crack a smile, thinking through everything.

Despite the challenges, they would always be there for him.

Although Toto would always say that if he ever moved to Red Bull, they may not be. But a slap on the arm from Susie would shut him up.

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @anicega, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @koalapastries, @camelliaflow3r

[wouldtheybecomeafearavatar]

Would Viktor from Arcane (specifically in his Machine Herald form) be an avatar for the Extinction?

Victor has previously been polled for The Corruption.

[yandere-daydreams]

I think you might have to write another crossover fic with Childe and Gojo (the people are gonna go crazy trust me on this)

wait do you people actually want to see them. you know it would be the most annoying threesome in the history of threesomes right. do you know what you are endorsing or are the masses just mindlessly seeking hedonistic pleasure once again.

[askmafiabobvelseb]

I love my followers:

/gen

[authoralexharvey]

Me: *talking about a real and VERY FRUSTRATING bout of lesbophobia I experienced while attempting to find readers for ASMLP's release*

Some man: Idk this must be some new phenomenon because any time I hear about a sapphic book people are happy about it.

[grimmgrinningghouls]

yall are getting way too comfortable saying weird shit to people you don't know.

[hydrobunny]

never took me quite where you do

tags: established relationship, fluff, silliness

a/n: based on king of my heart. (which was also my eras surprise song!!)

--------------------------------------------------------

"you haven't had a girlfriend?" you ask, surprise coloring your voice.

rin itoshi stares at you like you've suddenly got infinitely stupider. "not before you."

"that's," you start, then stop. actually, now that you're really thinking about it, it does make sense. "you know what, yeah. seems about right."

offense glares in his eyes as he leans away from you. "the hell does that mean?"

you raise your brows. "what do you think, rin?"

he fully untangles his limbs from yours at that, shoving himself off of the couch. you protest at his motion - a little halfheartedly, but the effort is there .

standing up to his full height, rin itoshi glares down at you.

you blink up at him, smiling with all the innocence you can muster. "yes?"

"do you know how much fan mail i get?" he grits out. "how many chocolates i've gotten on valentine's?"

it takes quite a lot of effort for you to not start laughing. "i do know how popular you are, yes. you should see the edits on tiktok."

"so why-" rin falters. "edits?"

"go on."

it takes him a second. "i could've had a girlfriend if i wanted to," he says at last. "i just didn't."

you nod, still biting back a smile. "mhm. i'm sure all the girls would've loved you after seeing that personality of yours." you scoot over, offering up the space on the couch again.

rin continues to stare, but you can see his will weakening. "not like anyone wanted to date your lukewarm ass either," he says with a finality.

you snort. "i thought you grew out of that word."

he rolls his eyes.

"also- factually untrue. i've had boyfriends before."

and rin's entire demeanor switches. "what?"

you wave your hand, dismissive. "not like a lot, but. an average amount to have for a high schooler, i think. none of it was ever serious. not like you," you grin.

rin doesn't return it. genuine shock bleeds through his face; he turns on his heel. "i'm going to bed."

"wha- rin?"

forty five minutes later, you breeze into your shared bedroom. your teeth are freshly brushed, your skin lotioned, and you're almost ready for a good night's sleep.

"are you actually still mad about- what the hell are you doing?"

rin freezes, one hand still on the computer mouse. from your vantage point, you can see every pixel on that screen.

"is that my high school boyfriend?"

he turns in the swivel chair, very clearly not in bed. the classic 'itoshi indifference,' as you've coined it, masks itself over his face.

you step closer. "rin. is that, or is that not, the instagram profile of my ex."

he nods, slowly.

"can i ask why you're looking at his profile?"

he begins to shake his head, and then changes his mind (a good choice). but rin itoshi has never been too good at keeping himself calm-

"he's unemployed."

there's a beat of silence.

"sorry?"

"jobless. a leech on society. useless as a human being," rin continues. "a complete ass of himself, basically."

you stare at him. he stares at you. and then-

you burst out laughing. "are you serious?"

rin seems surprised by your reaction. it makes you laugh even harder.

"oh my god- you've been stalking his socials? for the last, like, hour?' you broke your stupid athlete sleep schedule for this?" there are genuine tears welling in the corner of your eyes. "for a guy i dated years ago?"

a little self-conscious now, rin stands up. "i was trying to sleep for the first twenty minutes. after that.." he trails off.

and you slam into him with a hug, still laughing. "i love you so much."

he stiffens at the initial contact, but gives into your touch the moment after. "i love you too?"

you hum into his ear. "they don't matter anymore. you know that, right? they never did- not seriously enough. you're the only one."

rin doesn't reply.

"and i know you could have any girl you wanted. but that doesn't matter to me. because you want me. and i will never get enough of you, rin itoshi."

his voice is a low murmur. "me neither. no one's ever compared to you."

and he presses a kiss onto your lips, and it's better than anything you've ever had.

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, sneaking around, getting caught, jealousy, daddy kink, praise/degradation, sensory deprivation (blindfold), threesome, oral(m!receiving), unprotected sex, jealous!matt, jealous!chris, sneaky!reader

🖤 summary: 🖤 while exchanging information about their sex lives, matt and chris find out you've been hooking up with them both behind the other's back.

i got this idea from @sturnobessed who had the idea for this plot, and it was also heavily inspired by these two edits ( 1 & 2) that make me cum everytime. okay, enjoy! (also, chat, i think i might be a chratt girl???)

soaked

"Who are you textin'?" Chris collapsed down onto the couch, teasingly nudging his brother Matt, who was smirking down at his phone. "Just a girl I've been talking to," Matt vaguely responded, eyes glued to your text. "Is that code for fucking?" Chris chuckled, nudging him again. "It might be," Matt replied, silently reading the dirty message you'd just sent him:

"In desperate need of your cock. Come over. I'll do that party trick with my mouth that you like so much."

"How long have you guys been talking?" Chris asked his brother, eager to hear more about the girl that had him smiling like that. "A few weeks. It's nothing serious. We're just messing around," Matt shrugged, still gazing down at his phone screen. "I've been talking to a girl for about the same amount of time. She's really fucking hot," Chris bragged. "Can't be hotter than my girl," Matt scoffed.

"She does this thing when she's giving me head," Chris started to say, but then he stopped himself. "Go on. Finish your sentence," Matt perked up, curious to hear what he was going to say. "She just does this thing with she teases the tip with her tongue while she's sucking and bobbing up and down on it. And she'll moan while she does it. It's like, multi-dimensional," Chris relayed, his cock twitching at the thought of it.

"Wait, because my girl does the same exact technique," Matt narrowed his eyes at his brother. "I mean, that's probably common. I don't know. I haven't gotten head from that many people, but I didn't know it was possible for someone to do that many things with their mouth at one time. She calls it her party trick," Chris responded, running his fingers through his hair. His body temperature was rising just thinking about it.

Matt stared intently off into the distance, taking in this familiar information. "Chris, I think we may be fucking the same girl," Matt admitted after a few seconds of silence. "No way. What would even be the odds of that ever happening?" Chris gave the boy to his left a skeptical look.

"On the count of three, say her name," Matt replied, setting down his phone and turning towards his brother. They counted to three in unison, and then at the same time, your name passed through both of their lips. The two of them stared at each other with widening eyes and dropped jaws as it dawned on them that you might have been sleeping with both of them behind the other's back.

"There's only one way to know for sure," Matt said, picking up his cellphone and going to his gallery. "I'll pull up a picture of my girl, and you pull up a picture of yours," Chris suggested, flipping through his camera roll. They placed their phones side-by-side, each clicking on your photo and confirming their suspicions.

"Holy shit, it's the same girl," Matt replied. He felt jealousy coursing through his veins. "I mean, I'm not planning on dating her. Is it weird if we both just keep fucking her?" Chris wondered out loud, laughing. "I have a better idea. What if we confront her?" Matt asked with a twinkle in his eye. This idea piqued Chris' interest. "I'm listening."

"She's texting me right now, practically begging me to go over and do her. What if we both show up?" Matt devilishly grinned at his brother. "Why the fuck is she texting you and not me?" Chris asked, checking to see if the service on his phone was working. "Maybe I just give better dick than you," Matt nonchalantly responded, knowing how to push his brother's buttons.

"Or maybe she's just saving the best for last. You know, asking you to come over first as a warm up before she invites me over later to finish her off," Chris shot back. Matt punched Chris in the arm. Hard. "We'll see about that," Matt muttered. "What do you mean? Are you suggesting we..?" Chris raised an eyebrow at Matt.

"I'm suggesting we make her choose. Have her tell us who fucks her better. She put us in an uncomfortable situation, and now we're going to put her in an uncomfortable situation," Matt shrugged. "Get even. I like it," Chris nodded, impressed by his brother's plan.

"I'm on my way over. Leave your door unlocked. Wear that pretty lingerie set I like. I want you blindfolded and waiting for me when I get there," Matt maliciously texted back.

Matt couldn't help that he was always one step ahead of everyone. He wanted to get back at both of you, at you, for lying to him and at Chris, for his smart mouth.

He drove over to your house, going a bit faster than normal. The entire time he was death gripping the steering wheel and clenching his jaw. Chris sat beside him playing a new Lil Skies song as they cruised through the winding roads and mountains to your place.

"So, what's the game plan?" Chris asked Matt as the two of them pulled into your driveway. "She doesn't know we know yet. I told her to wait up there in her room for me. Blindfolded. Just follow my lead. Let me do the talking," Matt relayed to Chris as they got out of the car and let themselves inside.

Matt held his finger up to his lips as they made their way up the stairs, trying to synchronize their steps as much as possible, so you couldn't distinguish between their two sets of footsteps. Matt rested his hand on the doorknob of your room and began to turn the handle.

"I've been waiting for you," you lustfully responded, laying on your bed with your legs spread while you were in your pink lingerie with a matching blindfold covering your eyes. They both took in the sight, burning your image into their memories.

"Hey, baby. Sorry it took so long. My brother, Chris and I had to clear something up before I could come over," Matt smirked at the way you laid there, unsuspecting. "Oh, yeah? Well I hope you guys got it figured out," you nibbled on your lip, nervous to hear Matt say his brother's name. "Oh, we sure did. You look so pretty, baby," Matt said, wandering over towards you and starting to run his fingers under the pretty fabric of your panties. You let out a soft whine.

"What are you doing?" Chris silently mouthed to Matt with a confused expression. Matt held his finger to his lips again while he gazed into Chris' eyes. "Trust me," Matt silently replied. Chris read his brother's lips, but he couldn't help but be skeptical of him.

"I know you don't like to talk about the other guys you see, and don't get me wrong, we're not official or anything, so I respect that. But wouldn't it be hot if I fucked you in front of one of them and made them watch?" Matt asked you, a malicious smile overcoming his face while he pulled his dick out of his sweatpants.

"Oh, my god. That does sound kind of hot," you whimpered back as Matt pulled your panties to the side and started teasing your hole with his tip. Chris' jaw tightened as he realized what Matt was doing. He was totally cucking him.

"I know you must really like those other guys you entertain, but you must like me the most, huh? Is that why you're always begging me to come over and ruin you?" Matt cooed, sinking into your heat. "Ahhh. Yes, daddy. You treat my pussy so good," you murmured back, adjusting to his thick rod as it stretched you out.

"Tell me I do it the best," Matt replied, glancing up at Chris, who was shocked, angry, and admittedly a little turned on. "You do it the best, daddy. No one could ever fuck me as hard as you," you cried out as Matt started thrusting inside of you. Chris' cock twitched as he listened to you moaning his favorite word to hear during sex, daddy.

"You know. We have a little bit of a problem, sweetheart. Daddy knows you've been naughty," Matt cooed, still picking up the speed as he pounded into you. "Yeah? Have I been a naughty girl?" You wondered in a flirtatious tone, assuming it was all part of the role play.

"You know you have. Why did you lie to me and tell me you've never met my brothers, hmm?" Matt asked in a sweet sounding voice, but his intentions were far from it. You gulped. "I haven't. I've never spoken to Chris," you said defensively, hoping Matt wasn't onto you. "Blowing your cover already. I didn't say which brother. You know, you're not a very good liar," he replied to you.

"I-I'm not lying," you said in a quiet voice. Panic flooded your system. You thought you'd done such a good job at sneaking around with both of them, making sure they'd never crossed paths when leaving and coming to your house.

"I'm not enough for you, huh? You need my brother, too?" Matt smirked, still rocking his hips back and forth. "I don't know why he'd say that," you responded in between moans, still playing dumb. "Yeah? You think he's just jealous or something?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, maybe he's just jealou- oh!" You whimpered as Matt grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, filling you to the hilt with his length. "If he's never met you, then why does he know about that thing you do with your mouth?" Matt questioned you. "I don't know what you mean," you bluffed.

"Sure, you do. I know how proud you are of that trick. Remember? You used it to make me cum a few days ago? I complimented you on it," Matt grunted. You reached up to peek under your blindfold, but Matt stopped you. "Ah, ah, ah. No peeking," he swatted your hand away. "How does he know about it?" Matt asked again, his voice becoming more stern, envy seeping into his tone.

Your stomach dropped, and you swallowed hard. You decided to double down. "I don't know, daddy. I don't know how he knows," you whined as Matt pumped into you mercilessly. "Well, he seems to know a lot about it, so why don't you ask him?" Matt chuckled.

"Ask him?" You said with a confused inflection. "Yeah. Since you don't know, just ask him yourself," Matt said, removing the blindfold you had wrapped around your head and throwing it back at you. Your gaze immediately met the eyes of the brother you didn't even know was in the room with you yet. "Chris," his name escaped your lips as more of a sultry moan. "Yeah, now you know who he is, don't you? Does he make you cum as hard as I do, baby?" Matt asked, leaning over and grazing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You nervously shifted your glance between both of them. Fuck, you thought to yourself. "I thought I was the only one you called daddy in bed," Chris told you with a twinge of jealousy and hurt in his voice, taking a few steps closer to you.

"So, we don't really appreciate that you've been keeping us both a secret from the other, and we're gonna make you choose. Which one of us do you want more?" Matt wondered, studying your pathetic expression while he hit your sweet spot. "I can't choose," you softly mewled, shaking your head.

"Come on, sweetheart. Just pick one. Who fucks you better, hmm?" Chris asked, coming around to the side of the bed to brush a few stray hairs out of your face. "Yeah. Pick one. Who's it gonna be?" Matt chimed in. "Both of you," you whispered.

"What was that, sweetheart? Speak up," Chris smirked down at your needy expression and started teasing your nipples through your pretty, pink bra. "Both of you," you cried out. "Both of us?" Matt chuckled at how desperate you sounded. "If I can't have you both at the same time, then I don't want either one of you," you said in a bratty tone.

"Yeah, sure. I've had to share my toys with Chris my whole life, and now I have to share my favorite one?" Matt sighed and rolled his eyes. "You really can't pick just one? You know I get jealous easy," Chris peered down at you lustfully, pulling out his throbbing member and sliding it between your lips.

"Yeah. Come on. Don't you know I'm the jealous type, too, baby?" Matt cooed, reaching down and stimulating your clit with his thumb. "Such a greedy little slut. One of us isn't enough to satisfy you, hmm? Open up," Chris demanded, You stuck out your tongue, and Chris began gently tapping the head of his dick against your tastebuds while he reached into your lacy bra and cupped your breast.

"It's okay, baby, you don't have to lie to spare Matt's feelings. I know I make you feel so much better than he ever could," Chris whimpered, running his pink tip along your soft tongue. "I bet Chris has never made you squirt like I did the other night," Matt shot back, digging his fingers into the fleshy insides of your thighs while he rammed into you.

"Who cares if you made her squirt once?" Chris sneered at Matt. "Remember when I made you cum five times in a row last weekend, baby?" Chris turned his attention back to you, sinking more of his length behind your pouty lips. "Five times?! Jesus, Chris. Quality over quantity," Matt ranted.

"Come on, babe. Do that little thing I like," Chris cooed, ignoring his brother and stroking your cheek. You generously bobbed your head while you circled his tip with your tongue, suckling as you did so and moaning against all his sensitive nerve-endings.

You loved the way Chris reacted to your party trick. The way he'd hold eye contact and grip the back of your head while smiling and biting his lip. You relished in the sweet sounds from Chris that filled your ears as a bit of his pre-cum pooled onto your tastebuds.

Matt continued jackhammerimg into you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm. "You don't even have the patience to edge her and make her squirt, do you?" Matt snarked at Chris. "Why the fuck would I wait when I can make her finish over and over?" Chris retorted.

The way they were arguing with one another, fighting over you, and taking verbal jabs at each other made you clench around Matt. Chris grabbed ahold of your hair while you hummed against his cock, and you stared into his beautiful blue eyes.

"Don't fucking look at him. I'm the one making you cum right now," Matt glared at you while you came undone around him. "Maybe I'm just more fun to look at," Chris shot back, giving you a devilish grin. You glanced between them both, unsure of who to give your attention to. You couldn't get enough of either one of them.

Your climax washed over you, trapping you in its riptide and flooding your system with immense waves of pleasure, ebbing and flowing through every inch of you. Soon, you weren't looking at either one of them, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, but both of their mental images played on the insides of your eyelids.

It was happening again. You felt yourself squirt, your fluids spurting all over Matt's rod as the knot in your stomach came unraveled. Your whole body violently shook as you soaked your sheets, and you let out a slew of delighted sounds as you finished.

"See how good I make her feel?" Matt snarked at his brother. "Just wait until it's my turn to make her cream all over my cock," Chris challenged. After your orgasm subsided, you breathlessly shifted your gaze between them again. They each slowed their movements, pulled themselves out of you, and switched places.

"Why don't you clean up the mess you made?" Matt suggested, a double meaning in his words while he shoved his sensitive head between your lips. Chris lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in his tip, letting you get used to him inch by inch. He watched the way he disappeared into your hole, flickering his gaze up at your desperate expression.

He gently rested his hand on your lower stomach and started applying pressure while he was inside of you, deviously smirking up at you while your eyes rolled back once more. Matt sweetly smiled down at you and the way you generously accepted him.

"That's it. Show me that trick again," Matt demanded. You obediently listened, encircling all his favorite nerve endings with your tongue while you sucked on it. You pumped him in and out of your mouth while your lips vibrated against him, and you watched his reaction.

You loved watching him lose his composure, the way his forehead would wrinkle, and the way his jaw would drop. Matt's knees grew weak, and his eyes lost focus as you swirled your tongue around on it. "You're so good at that," he whimpered, savoring the sensation.

"Stop watching him," Chris gently smacked his hand against your face a few times to pull you out of the trance Matt had you in. "Look at me instead," he said with an imperative and dominant tone. Your eyes shot up at Chris, who was burrowed deep inside of you. "Don't listen to him. Look at me," Matt cooed, carressing your face and tilting it further in his direction.

"Matt can fuck off. Listen to me. Look me in the eyes while you cum for me," Chris commanded you, maintaining his stamina and tilting your chin to make you watch him instead. "Shut up, Chris," Matt barked, fucking your face. "You shut up. Let her enjoy how good I make her feel," Chris shot back, his tip getting to all your hard-to-reach places.

An explosive feeling brewed deep within you. You could feel your heat rhythmically clenching around Chris as you reached your climax. Your juices flowed out of you, coating Chris' length in your essence. "One," Chris counted, smirking down at you.

You felt desire burning in your core as he continued pumping in and out of you after he made you finish, coaxing another orgasm out of you. "Two," Chris cooed, mercilessly fucking you harder than before. You lost control of your body, giving into the throes of ecstasy that overtook you. Your legs trembled as you reached your third climax in a row.

"Three," Chris grunted, pumping in and out of your pink hole that was drooling all over his dick. You felt yourself fluttering in and out of consciousness as Chris pulled climax after climax out of you. "Okay, I get the point, Chris," Matt replied. "Get on your fucking knees, you two-timing slut," Chris commanded you.

You obediently fell to your knees in front of them and opened your mouth for them. They both fervently pumped their cocks back and forth while you hungrily waited to swallow their loads.

Simultaneously they each finished onto your tongue, filling your tastebuds with their flavor and moaning in unison as they smirked down at you. You loved the way they looked, towering over you with the pleasure you made them feel engraved into their expressions.

"You really can't choose, huh?" Chris asked, peering down at the mess you were after they were done. You glanced back and forth between them with your big doe eyes as you wiped their cum from the corners of your lips, "I can't. I really mean it."

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[daryltwdixon]

Teach You IV

Summary: Daryl can’t seem to get ahold of himself after the night you spent together. For days, you're all he can think about—your voice, your touch, the way you've unleashed a part of him he never knew existed. Nothing else matters, nothing else feels right, and when he sees you now, he knows he’s coming back for more. Always.

warnings: smut, MDNI, dirty talk, Daryl is a man possessed, pinv, oral, fingering, Daryl's POV

a/n: the amount of messages I've gotten about this fills my little heart with so much joy, you guys!!! thank you for loving what I do :')

not super proofread! sorry! will check later

The late afternoon bathes the room in golden light, casting soft shadows as Daryl watches her. She’s standing there, completely absorbed in some meaningless task—folding laundry, shifting supplies, something so mundane he can’t understand how she’s focused on it when he’s right here. She’s been taking up all the space in his mind, all the air in his lungs, and she has no idea.

Well, maybe she does. She’s the one who did this to him. The one who made him feel insatiable, so utterly out of control over his own thoughts and body.

Daryl leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, but it’s just to steady himself. His blood is running too hot, his heart pounding too fast, and it’s all because of her. His gaze drags over her, over the way her shirt clings to her back, the soft curve of her hips, the little furrow in her brow as she concentrates. She’s so calm, so collected, like she hasn’t absolutely ruined him.

Ever since that first night—hell, every night since—she’s been all he can think about. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her. Feels her. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the way she felt under him—warm and soft and his. His cock has never been this hard, not at midnight, not first thing in the morning, and definitely not all goddamn day. And it’s all because of her.

His jaw clenches as the memories flood back: her taste, sweet and heady on his tongue. The way she whispered his name, gasping and desperate, like he was the only man in the world who could make her feel that way. Taking her for the first time, the way her body shifted and shivered beneath him as he rocked into her. It was like a switch he didn’t even know existed had flipped inside him, and now he’s nothing but want, need—fucking hunger.

His hands twitch at his sides. He tries to rein it in, to give her space, but it’s useless. His thoughts are wild and untamed, like he’s been starved his whole damn life and she’s the only thing that can satisfy him. He wants to feel her again, taste her again, bury himself so deep inside her that neither of them knows where one ends and the other begins.

And she’s just standing there, so calm, so unbothered. How can she not feel it? Doesn’t she know what she’s done to him?

“Alright,” he growls, the sound low and guttural as he finally pushes off the doorframe, done with just standing by and watching her as he unravels.

Her head snaps up, her hands pausing mid-motion. “Daryl?” she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion at the intensity in his voice.

But he doesn’t answer. He can’t. Words won’t do it, won’t scratch the itch clawing at him, the fire burning through his veins. He crosses the room in a few quick strides, his movements rough and purposeful. His hands grip her waist before she can react, lifting her clean off the floor and tossing her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing.

“Daryl!” she squeals, her fists playfully tapping at his back, though there’s laughter in her voice. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

He doesn’t bother answering, doesn’t stop. He’s already heading for the nearest surface—the couch, the bed, the table, he doesn’t fucking care. All that matters is her, laid out for him, ready for him to take her apart.

When he reaches the couch, he lowers her just enough to drop her onto the cushions, her legs still dangling over the edge as he looms over her. She looks up at him, her chest rising and falling as she takes him in, her eyes widening slightly at the look on his face.

“You’ve ruined me,” he growls, his voice like gravel as his hands cage her in on either side. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. About how you feel. About how you taste. I can’t think straight, can’t sleep. You’ve fucked me up, woman.”

Her eyes widen, her lips parting as she looks up at him, her breath catching in her throat. She’s not used to this—him talking so much, his words spilling out in a frantic, unfiltered rush. He knows it too. Knows he can be a little aloof, a bit of a dick when it comes to talking about what’s on his mind. But she’d broken him, shattered whatever walls he’d kept so carefully constructed, and now he couldn’t stop the rambling, couldn’t stop the truth from pouring out of him.

His hands travel up her body, sliding over her sides, his rough fingertips grazing her skin, skimming over her stomach. He slots his hips between her legs, pressing her further into the couch as her thighs fall open for him.

“I—” she starts, but he cuts her off, his hands finding her waist, his touch rough but trembling.

“Please,” he mutters, his voice low and desperate, almost trembling with the weight of his need. His hands glide over her sides, brushing against her ribs, feeling the heat of her skin through her thin shirt. “I need you. Every inch of you. Right fuckin’ now. Tell me yes. Please, say yes.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, the red blooming across her neck and chest as she stares up at him. And then, slowly, her hands lift, sliding up to rest on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice a soft, breathless sigh. “Yes, Daryl. Always yes.”

It’s all he needs. An inhuman noise rumbles deep in his chest, primal and desperate, as his lips crash against hers, needy and unrelenting. His hands grip her thighs, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her like a man possessed, all teeth and tongue and sheer, insatiable hunger.

"Goddamn," he mutters against her lips, his voice shaking as he pulls back just enough to look at her. His hands slide further up her legs, gripping her ass, his thumbs imprinting into the soft curves of her skin. "You've got me so fucked up. I can't think about anything else. Just you. Just this.'

His lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point as his fingers hook into her shorts. He doesn't wait for permission this time; he knows she's all in, knows she's just as wanton as he is. He tugs them down in one rough motion, taking her panties with them, leaving her bare and spread out before him.

His gaze drops to her center, and he groans, his head tipping back for a moment as he fights to keep himself together. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and reverent,"So fuckin' beautiful. So goddamn perfect." His hands grip her knees then, spreading her wider as he lowers himself between her legs.

His breath is hot against her skin, his mouth trailing hot, open kisses along the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer to where she wants him most. Her sex glistens for him already, the sheen of slick luring him in.

"Daryl," she whines breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his hair as her hips lift off the couch.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he dives in, his tongue pressing flat against her slick heat, dragging up to circle her clit with slow, deliberate precision. The taste of her hits him like a drug, and he groans, his hands tightening on her thighs as he pulls her closer, needing more. 

"You taste so fuckin' sweet," he mutters against her, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

Her cries spur him on, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as he works her over, his mouth relentless and hungry. He licks and sucks and nips at her, devouring her like she's the only thing keeping him alive, like her pussy is the last source of water in a barren desert. He still didn’t know how to do this right, not really, but he knew what her gasps meant, knew what the shiver in her thighs told him. And God, he just wanted to keep making her feel that way. His tongue falters for a moment, unsure if he’s going too fast or too slow, but then her hips roll against him, and he takes that as a sign to keep going.

"Daryl," she whimpers, her voice trembling as her fingers tug harder at his hair. "Oh, fuck-don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Her pleading only fuels him, his tongue moving faster, his lips sealing around her clit as he slides two fingers inside her. Her body arches off the couch, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as he curls his fingers, stroking her exactly where she needs him. Her body responds instinctively, her words no longer coherent as her hips buck against him, riding the wave of her climax as it crashes over her.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. His mouth and fingers work her through every shudder, every breathless gasp, coaxing every ounce of pleasure out of her until she’s trembling beneath him, her chest heaving as she collapses back onto the cushions.

But he’s far from done.

She’s still shaking when his pace begins to slow, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to her slick heat as if to soothe her overstimulated body. Her breath comes in sharp, uneven bursts, her fingers gripping the cushions beneath her, but before she can catch her breath, his fingers curl again, pressing against that spongy spot inside her.

A sharp cry tears from her throat, her hips jerking involuntarily as the sensation sends a jolt of electricity through her.

“Daryl—” she starts, her voice trembling, but he just hums against her, his tongue dragging over her clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“Want another,” he mutters, his voice muffled against her skin, his words punctuated by the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers working her over. “Want more. Gotta see you like this again.”

Her head tips back, her body arching as overstimulation teeters dangerously close to overwhelming. “I—Daryl, it’s too much—” she gasps, but the words are lost in another moan as his fingers curl deeper, stroking that spot inside her with an almost maddening precision. If there was anything Daryl learned from their first time together, it was that he needed to know every single nook and crevice of her that made her come undone. Either with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He was determined to learn her body inside and out. 

“You can take it,” he growls as his lips seal around her clit again. His tongue flicks against her, faster now, relentless, as if her pleasure is the only thing that matters. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

Her body tightens beneath him, her nails clawing at the cushions as her thighs tremble around his head. She’s teetering on the edge again, the line between pleasure and too much blurring as his words and his touch send her spiraling. The second always comes so much faster than the first, it’s like a domino falling inside her lower belly.

She was falling apart because of him. He couldn’t believe it—still didn’t really know what he was doing—but her gasps, her moans, they told him he was doing something right.

“Cum for me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse but commanding. “Wanna feel you again. Wanna hear you,”

Her body responds before her mind can catch up, her hips bucking against his mouth as another wave crashes over her. She cries out, her voice raw and broken, her walls clenching around his fingers as she tumbles over the edge for the second time.

He groans against her, his tongue slowing as he works her through it, coaxing every last shudder and gasp from her trembling frame. When she finally collapses fully against the couch, her body spent and trembling, he presses one last kiss to her inner thigh, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

As he moves to kneel between her legs again, her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring him to her. She’s still trembling from her release, her body pliant and warm beneath him, but she reaches up to capture his lips in hers, tasting herself on his now swollen, wet lips.

“Please, Daryl,” she says against his lips–now it was her begging him, and God if it didn’t take every last drop of restraint to wait for him to hear what she wanted next. How the hell did she look like that, sound like that, just because of him? He didn’t understand it, didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he was desperate to be worthy of her. He’d give her anything. Anything. 

“What is it, baby? What do you want? Tell me,” he groans against her, his hips rutting into her, the wetness of her center staining his jeans where his bugle meets her clit. “Need you,” she whines, gasping when he drags his hips against her harder, “Please. Fuck me, Daryl.”

That’s all he needs. His hands fumble at his waistband, his urgency making his movements clumsy as he shoves his pants and briefs down just enough to free himself. His cock is already hard, throbbing and aching with need as he grips the base, positioning himself at her entrance.

He pauses, his breath ragged as he meets her gaze again, his forehead pressing against hers. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ you,” he murmurs, his voice low and shaky.

“You won’t,” she reassures him, her hands sliding down to rest on his arms, her touch grounding him. “I trust you.”

The words send a wave of warmth through him, his chest tightening as he pushes forward, the tip of him sliding into her with an agonizing slowness. He groans, low and guttural, as the heat of her surrounds him, and her gasp mirrors his, her nails digging lightly into his skin. 

This is all he’s thought about for days—taking her on the nearest surface, spreading her open, and burying himself deep inside her. The way she’d feel wrapped around him, her body clenching tight, pulling him in. But no amount of imagination, no desperate strokes of his own hand, could have prepared him for the way the real thing feels.

“God,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he sinks deeper, his hands trembling against her hips. “You’re so—fuck, you’re so tight.”

Her walls flutter around him, pulling a low groan from his throat. He can barely hold himself together, the heat and wetness of her stealing every coherent thought from his mind.

She moans softly, her hips tilting to take him in further, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “It’s too—too much, too big—” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and something he can’t quite place.

His movements falter, his body stiffening as a rush of panic washes over him. He freezes, afraid of hurting her, afraid of pushing too far. His hips still as her words echo in his head, his hands trembling where they grip her hips. “Am I hurtin’ ya?” he asks, his voice tight with worry, his brow furrowing as he looks down at her.

Her hands slide up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his scruff. Her breath is shaky, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only heat, only need.

“No,” she breathes, her voice trembling but steady. “It’s not that. I just—” She pauses, her lips parting as her head tilts back slightly. “I’ve never—never had someone so goddamn big.” Her voice breaks, her hands tightening on his arms as her hips shift beneath him. “You stretch me so good, Daryl. It’s just… overwhelming. In the best way.”

Her words send a bolt of heat straight through him, his cock twitching inside her as a low groan escapes his lips. “Jesus,” he mutters, his forehead pressing against hers. “You can’t say shit like that, woman. Gonna make me lose my mind,”

She laughs softly, the sound breathy and full of affection, and leans up to kiss him, her lips warm and teasing. “Then let me take over,” she whispers against his mouth, her fingers sliding down to his chest. “Let me show you how good you make me feel.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hands flexing against her hips. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low and rough, his gaze searching hers.

She nods, her smile widening as she cups his face again. “I’m sure,” she murmurs.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, his arms steadying her as she shifts beneath him. When his cock slips out of her, both of them hiss at the sudden loss of warmth, but she gently pushes at his chest to move up. And he moves with her, settling back against the cushions as she straddles his hips.

The sight of her above him, her body glowing in the soft afternoon light, takes his breath away. Her hands rest on his chest for balance, her legs bracketing his sides as she sinks down slowly, taking him back inside her inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands finding her thighs, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as his head tips back. 

Her moans match his, her body adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. “You feel so good,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she begins to move, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. “So good, Daryl.”

His hands slide to her waist under the hem of her shirt, steadying her as she sets the pace, her movements growing bolder with every passing second. The rhythm she creates is intoxicating, her body rising and falling above him, her warmth enveloping him completely.

“Let me see you,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent as his hands slide up her sides, his thumbs brushing over her ribs, his touch deliberate and worshipful. “Let me see these incredible tits, hunny.”

Her smile widens, her lips parting as her hands slide up her body, grazing over where his own rest on her waist. She takes her time, teasing, before finally gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. The discarded fabric lands somewhere behind the couch, forgotten, as her bare skin is revealed to him.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t hesitate. His head leans forward like he’s being pulled by some gravitational force he could never—would never—ignore. His lips find her breast, his mouth latching onto a nipple with a low, guttural groan.

His tongue flicks over the hardened peak before drawing it into his mouth, sucking softly. Hands tightening on her waist, his thumbs brush over the curve of her ribs as he holds her steady while her hips continue to rock over him. 

She gasps, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as her hips grind against his. “Daryl,” she breathes, her voice trembling with pleasure. “God, yes, yes, yes,”

Her words spur him on, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his mouth moves to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His tongue swirls, his lips pressing kisses along the soft swell of her skin, as though he’s worshipping every inch of her.

“You’re incredible,” he mutters between kisses, his voice hoarse and thick with awe. “Fuckin’ incredible.”

Her head tips back, her moans spilling from her lips as her hips roll against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through them both. “You’re the one making me feel this good,” she whispers, her voice thick and breathy. Her hands slide down to his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin as she pulls him closer. “This is all you, Daryl.”

Her words ignite something primal in him, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, guiding her movements as she rides him. The pace quickens, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, their breaths mingling as the tension builds between them.

“You’re all I want,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he looks up at her, his gaze dark and full of need. “All I fuckin’ think about.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she sighs, kissing him between breaths, “You’re all I ever think about, Daryl,” you shift your hips and panting, add: “Only man I want, that I need.”

And then it happens. The control he’s been clinging to, the restraint he’s forced himself to maintain, snaps like a taut string stretched too far. Something wild and unhinged breaks free inside him, the monster he’s tried to keep buried roaring to the surface.

Before she can even register the shift, his arms are wrapping around her, pulling her down against him so her stomach is flush to his chest, her breasts pressed into his face. She lets out a surprised yelp, her hands scrambling for purchase against his shoulders, but it’s quickly overtaken by a sharp, guttural moan as he buries himself deeper inside her.

“Daryl!” she gasps, her voice trembling as her hands cling to him, the couch, anything she can grab to stay steady.

He holds her tight, his muscles flexing as his arms cage her in, his body taking over completely. His hips snap up into her, relentless and unyielding, each thrust harder and faster than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with her cries and his ragged groans, creating a symphony of raw, primal need.

Her head falls back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she screams his name, her voice hoarse and broken with pleasure. And if she wasn’t moaning loud enough to disturb the neighborhood before, she sure as shit was now. The sheer force of his movements has her teetering on the edge of oblivion, her body trembling and she takes everything he’s giving, not able to form words or coherent thoughts anymore.

“That’s right, baby.” he growls, his voice raw and unrecognizable, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he knows he’ll leave marks. “Take that fucking cock, you’re so good, so perfect for it. Like your sweet pussy was made for me,”

The words pour out of him without thought, his mouth brushing against her chest, her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he can reach. He’s barely aware of what he’s saying, barely aware of anything except the overwhelming need to take her, to claim her, to lose himself completely in the heat and softness of her. He’s never known anything like this, where the words are even coming from, where this monster in his chest has escaped from.

Her body arches against him, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as she clings to him, her nails digging into his scalp, pulling his hair, “Daryl—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his hips driving up into her harder, deeper, his cock swelling as his own release builds. “Wanna feel you. Wanna hear you scream my fuckin’ name.”

And she does. Her body tenses, her thighs trembling as her release slams into her like a tidal wave. She cries out, her voice raw and ragged as her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, her pleasure washing over her in uncontrollable waves.

The way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes and shudders in his arms, is enough to send him spiraling after her. He groans, his head tipping back as his hips jerk erratically, his cock pulsing as he spills into her, filling her completely.

His chest heaves as he holds her against him, his body trembling from the force of his release. They stay like that for a long moment, tangled together, their breaths mingling as the intensity of what just happened sinks in.

When he finally loosens his grip, his hands slide to her back, stroking her soothingly as her head rests against his shoulder. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against her ear.

She nods, a breathless laugh escaping her as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair sticking to her damp skin, but her smile is soft and curious, a hint of awe in her expression.

“I’m more than okay,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of lingering pleasure and surprise. Her fingers trail lightly over his chest, and her lips curve into a teasing grin. “But… I feel like I unleashed something in you I didn’t know was there.”

His brows furrow slightly, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he looks away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well…” he mutters, his voice rough with embarrassment. “Ain’t never felt like this before. Never had—never been like this with anyone.” His gaze flickers back to hers, unsure but steady. “Guess you… bring somethin’ out in me.”

Her eyes soften, her fingers tracing along his jaw as she tilts his face back toward her. “Something incredible,” she says softly, her smile widening. “I like it. A lot.”

His lips twitch into a small, lopsided grin, his hand coming up to cup her face as his thumb brushes over her cheek. “You… you’re somethin’ else,” he mutters, his voice low and full of affection. “Don’t even feel like the same person I was before you.”

Her heart swells at his words, her chest tightening as she leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. When she pulls back, her smile is full of warmth. “Guess I ruined you in the best way, huh?”

He huffs a laugh, his forehead pressing against hers as his arms tighten around her. “Yeah,” he says, his voice soft but sure. “Guess you did.”

“S’okay,” she murmurs, her fingers trailing lightly over his shoulder. “Think you’ve ruined me too.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, his breath stuttering as his grip on her tightens. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and low, like he doesn’t quite believe her but wants to more than anything.

“Yeah,” she whispers back, her lips curving into a soft smile as she breathes in, her forehead still against his, “Never thought I could feel like this—this full, this… complete. It’s all you, Daryl. You’ve changed everything.”

For a moment, he can’t speak, his throat too tight, his chest too full. Instead, he presses his lips to hers again, the kiss deep and slow, filled with everything he can’t quite say.

[luguangssandwich]

I'm rlly tired rn so idk if any of this will make sense but I've done some sleuthing and rewatched the episode, now with the highly likely chance that Cheng Xiaoshi has dived back too. Hear me out:

Xiaoshi definitely did dive, and I think it started from the moment we saw his face in black and white at 4:59 PM:

And I think he stays until the Vivian arc fades out after they ran away (that was at 3:45 AM according to the clock in the room) I think he left as soon as they were safe and before the 12 hour limit passed. After that, he is back to the same, more naive and youthful person (who doesn't know about Lu Guang's powers) we have seen before the above. Everything he does in between those 12 hours is completely in line with his late S1 and S2 behaviour, I found it extremely uncanny and interesting to watch with this in mind!

Other bits that I found particularly interesting was the conversation after he pulled Lu Guang back to the studio. Qiao Ling asks what they should have for dinner and Cheng Xiaoshi suggests hot pot. We know this is his signature food, but I found Qiao Ling's response odd, because in the original Chinese subtitles she asks him if he's sick, because nobody eats hot pot during such a hot day. It felt odd because she made it seem out of character for him?

There's also CXS bossing Lu Guang around - at this point in time they know each other for a very brief amount of time, but the way he asks all these things of him feels like a future timeline in which they've already gotten extremely used and comfortable as partners and living together.

With this in mind, calling him "Guangguang" doesn't feel like it came out of nowhere anymore.

A few other pieces of dialogue I found extremely sus:

Even Lu Guang is surprised by his out of character behaviour at this point (but also vice versa!).

Now, the way he behaves during the date - I wouldn't say it's completely out of character for a future CXS to act out of his own wits. I don't think this guy's been on a single date in his life lol of course he would freak the hell out in such a situation, during previous dives he at least had the safety of possessing someone else. His empathy never fails so he tries to be kind and guide Vivian home, something a future Cheng Xiaoshi would do as well.

But what REALLY tipped me off is that there is no way a non-possessed CXS would've known that LG would know where he is at this moment in time, because he wasn't told until after this scene that he took a photo. I don't think the Vivian arc happened before (and it's possible it was triggered directly by the changed node when CXS dragged LG back to the studio). Cheng Xiaoshi had no idea Lu Guang would ACTUALLY SHOW UP IN PERSON tho (my guy at this point are u actually even surprised?) and probably just thought he'd call the cops, seeing how surprised he was at Lu Guang's appearance.

I'm gonna post the screenshot of Cheng Xiaoshi with golden eyes again because it really baffles my mind.

I don't know if any of this makes sense and I'd love to hear your thoughts!!

[charmedreincarnation]

Success story navigation

I've been getting so many asks with questions that feel like they can't be answered any differently than things I've already covered. It's as if I'm receiving the same queries over and over, and I understand the frustration that comes with feeling unheard. I've also received numerous messages from people who are really at the end of their journey, feeling lost and defeated. Whether it's because you've seen no progress despite your efforts, you've been at it for years without tangible results, or you've tried everything with no success, or perhaps your life has even gotten worse with the law or other obstacles – I get it, I truly do.

I want to address the overwhelming sense of despair that comes when you've exhausted every option for so many years and still see no light at the end of the tunnel. To those of you who feel like you're standing at a billions crossroads with nowhere to turn, to those who feel like you’ve put in years to this journey, to those who feel like you’re life has gotten worse even with the law, know that you're not alone. It's incredibly difficult when you've invested so much of yourself only to feel stuck or worse.

That's why I'm going to link success stories that I believe align with the mindset you likely have. By following their journey and tweaking it to suit your circumstances, hopefully, you can find the success they did.

There's nothing more I can say that I haven't already answered or said, but I hope these stories can provide a new perspective and the encouragement you need. May they guide you in finding the path that leads to the success you seek. Remember, it’s often at our lowest moments that we find the strength to rise again.

The ultimate success story with everything you need, mindset, tips, LOA, and Edward Art

For people who struggle with intrusive thoughts and mindset and want to use that to their advantage

My personal favorite success story

Simple Success story for those who prefer to affirm and persist

Very easy pragmatic success story (maba shortcut)

Age and years it took to succeed doesn’t matter success story

You can shift with desperation and bad circumstances success story

Yes you only need your imagination success story

Everything is possible stop asking

It's easy to feel alone, but remember that whatever you're going through, someone else has also faced similar challenges. We all start in different places; some may have an easier beginning than others, but we share the same equal potential to achieve greatness. It's important to acknowledge that while our journeys might differ, our ability to overcome obstacles and reach our potential is universal. Embrace the shared human experience and take comfort in knowing that you have the power within you to rise above and become the best version of yourself. Realizing this is just as important as becoming the richest hottest bitch with the mastery of the void and shifting okay. You’re not alone, you’re very powerful, and you CAN do it. Everyone has the potential to do it, you’ll have hurdles but where in life do you not!? You can struggle here with those journey or just struggle with the life you don’t want like everyone else. Nothing in life is easy, choose the hard path to get where you want so you can be happy forever, I promise it’s worth it.

This covers all the asks I’ve gotten. I really hope the struggle comes to an end for you guys. I know how hard all of you work, and I am truly happy and grateful to see how much you all love yourselves to put yourselves through an amount that sometimes seems pointless and fake, but it will be worth it. That’s just something you have to allow yourself to understand.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- The Reveal

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N gets rejected for the sixth time. Max win's the Monaco grand prix 2023. Y/N decides she needs time for herself.

No hate to anyone, it's for the story

{Reader's POV}

I fell asleep crying, a faint buzzing from my phone was heard from the other room. I woke up after a few hours at 3 am when I found my phone which was burning up. The messages hadn't stop coming. They had gotten quite frantic as I scrolled through my notifications. I decided to reply to Max's messages.

He was still the guy I liked, I couldn't not reply. But I was hurt and in no shape to be talking to him. I don't know what Max said after my message because my phone shut down. I pushed myself to clean myself up and my surrounding. I was a stress cleaner and I'm so grateful to having 2 jobs right now. It meant my mind would be preoccupied. I cleaned my whole house before leaving for school in the morning. My eyes were red and puffy; I was on coffee. I had yet to switch my phone on. I wasn't ready to face Max yet.

Today was the worst day, not only because of last night's revelation but I had the least amount of classes today. None of the kids needed help after class either. That meant I was left to my own devices. When I switched the phone on, I could see missed calls and texts from Max and a couple voice messages; from the night before and today morning I guess. I opened up Google to check his schedule; he was in Monaco, which was also his home currently. I found out a lot about him, you think you know someone but then Google tells you otherwise. His dad was as shitty as he described. His records and feats were astonishing and if I wasn't this angry at him for hiding it from me, I would've been so proud and told him so. His Instagram feed was pretty and polished and he posted so much racing content. I found his streaming account with a team, he was exactly like the Max that called me everyday with occasional appearances from the cats on stream. People spoke so rudely about Max, it angered me to no end. He was a kind man, a liar but a sweet man.

The real kicker was Max's girlfriend's account where I found so many pictures of them together with her daughter, from what I found out. He looked happy, he had a family like he always said he wanted. I couldn't help but smile bitterly, a part of me wished that it was me who was the woman beside him with our kid. Life is cruel in some ways, mine is satire at best. Here, I can't date a man because I'm hung up on a guy I've never met before while said man has a family. I felt tears streaming down my face which I quickly wiped them off. I had enough of pity and sympathy stares since the morning to last a lifetime, I can't deal with any more of them.

I knew I wanted to talk to Max, the only guy who has ever understood me, however, I also knew that if we spoke I wouldn't be listening to him. I was scared I would lose the one true friend I have. Would Max understand where I was coming from? Why did he hide this from me? Did he not trust me enough? I get it, but you are a public figure. I don't know how to feel about all of this. It was the weekend tomorrow. I would be left with my thoughts and I probably shouldn't confront Max before his race on Sunday, right?

I spent the next two days planning how I would talk to Max. How I would ask him why he hid everything from me? I didn't want to fight him; my parents always said I was rude and difficult to work with, that my anger consumed me, that my words were harsh. I wasn't supposed to show such negative emotions they said. I didn't want to lose him; but was I allowed to hold on to him when he never let me have him?

Max called and texted me every day but I was very scared, scared of becoming the monster my parents said I was, sacred of hurting the one I love. There I said it, said Max and love in the same sentence. I had threaded that line so carefully but after all of this, I realised that I've loved him for years and watching him be happy with some else hurt as much as knowing that I never truly knew Max. It was Sunday night, I checked the news and saw that Max won. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to rejoice watching the man I love win at what he was best at or be hurt watching him live a life I knew nothing about.

I texted him at night on Sunday, maybe he would be busy celebrating his win, I didn't know. I didn't know a lot of things. As I waited for the text back, I logged on to my emails that I had forgotten about to find a reply from the publication I had sent my work to; to be met with dismay. Another rejection, I'm not sure how many more rejections I could take. My hands shook, making the laptop fall from my lap onto the bed. I got up and got myself a glass of water.

I laid on my bed for god knows how long before the familiar ring of my phone pulled me out of my trance. I had taken the day off tomorrow. I knew I didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with anything. I answered the call to a worried Max.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. Max looked at me confused. Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I could see the colour leave Max's face. He licked his lips before speaking. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? Max was quite, a sort of uncomfortable silence had enveloped us, for the first time in 10 years. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. I felt my voice begin to crack while I spoke, the lump in my throat unbearably big, my breathing was uneven. Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. (I smiled with only my lips) Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. I laughed bitterly. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. (I wiped away my tears) Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I saw tears streaming down Max's face. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And then the screen went black.

[Max spent the whole week worrying about Y/N. He couldn't think straight. This was weird, she was never this busy before. It was stressing him out, he couldn't eat or sleep. He never even thought about the fact that maybe his lie had been exposed. When Y/N texted him, he was at a club in Monaco with the other drivers to celebrate his win. He only saw it after he got back home and immediately called her. She looked different, there was this sadness in her eyes. The smile didn't reach her eyes. And then she started talking, his heart was beating very fast. The moment she said Formula One, his whole world came crashing down. The more she spoke the more he felt like he was falling deeper, in a pit of his own making. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to explain himself but no words left his mouth. Then she started talking about his girlfriend. He felt like this was the last time he would get to talk to her, the last time he would hear her voice. This felt like the last time he would have her]

[aromanticofficial]

shocking news, The aroallo guy is here to talk abt being aroallo. everybody gasp

anyways. i wanted to explain why aroallos are so "sensitive" about our identity and place in the aspec community.

the aspec community has a sex negativity problem. this is obvious. the amount of "sex bad" takes that are boldly labelled "aspec experiences" instead of what they actually are (puritan culture) is enough to make anyone who actually experiences sexual attraction feel more than unwelcome in the aspec community.

aside from that, there's also the erasure. aromanticism is always treated as a subcategory of asexuality. there's this constant underline to every mainstream-ish discussion of aromanticism that basically comes down to the inherently aroallophobic idea that "not all aces are aro, but all aros are ace". it's not that anyone says this out loud; it's that everyone seems to imply it subtly, everyone seems to believe it without even thinking twice about it.

aside from that, there's the lack of representation. name an aromantic character. chances are, you've just named an aroace character. and even in the very very rare case of a character being canonically aromantic but not canonically asexual (e.g. carpenter from the silt verses), the fandom still treats them being asexual as canon. fandom treats aromanticism as something that must only exist within asexuality, not as its own separate identity.

our fellow aspecs spew aroallophobia at us in a misguided attempt at humor (i've gotten several asks from aroaces telling me i "should" be aroace), our posts are mistagged as asexual when we make it extremely clear they're just about being aromantic (and when we point out that we don't like that, we get called control freaks. true story), the aromantic tag is filled with posts just about asexuality, allos either call us emotional abusers and imply we objectify people by simply experiencing sexual attraction, or imply that we're just afraid of attachment and that they can "fix" us.

the absolutely jarring truth of being an aroallo on tumblr dot com is making a post about being aroallo and immediately getting ten anons telling me i'm "no better than a straight man", "an aroace in denial", "an emotionally abusive predator", or just a slut, while at the same time someone comments on my post "you're making up an issue that doesn't exist" "why are you so mad about this" "you wanna be a victim so bad"

whew. okii that's all. hope that clears stuff up for non-aroallos out there /gen

what they said

[whump-imagines]

Stomach Flu

Buddie x reader

Wc: 1700 ish

You laid in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Some kind of stomach flu had found you and was clearly trying to kill you. All night you’d been fighting blankets because you'd be hot and then freezing and then hot again. And when you'd thought maybe you'd gotten comfortable the nausea would hit.

The toilet was your new best friend. You’d spent a decent amount of time clinging to the bowl for dear life. It was worse than any bad night of drinking you had ever had.

So now you were momentarily a comfortable temperature and not as nauseous so you didn't dare move as you begged for sleep to come.

Next thing you know the bed is jostled aggressively as Buck jumps onto the mattress and asks, “You're still in bed?”

The sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through your skull and nearly causes you to puke. You launch yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Falling to your knees, you empty the non-existent contents of your stomach.

Eddie is knelt beside you a moment later. He takes your hair in one hand and rubs your back with the other.

“Ugh. My best friend, we meet again,” you mumble into the toilet bowl.

“Again?” Eddie asks. “What do you mean again?”

Rolling your forehead across the arm supporting your head, you glance at him and notice Buck in the doorway. “Well this is like the thousandth time I've been here since yesterday. I think I'm dying.”

Eddie runs his hand over your head then presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Baby, why didn't you call us?”

“You were working. I didn't think I needed help puking my guts out.”

“One of us could have come home,” Buck says. “Or we could have brought supplies home.”

“Supplies?”

“Soup, Tylenol, tissues, maybe…” Buck listed.

“I'd just puke it back up. Everything in comes right back out.”

“Alright, are you done for now? Do you want head back to bed?” Eddie asks.

“Moving makes me more nauseous. And my head hurts.”

“Have you had any water?” Eddie asks.

“Tried. Failed.” You lean back and the world spins. “This sucks.”

Eddie shifts you so you can relax back into him. “I bet. We're going to get you back into bed and get a bucket so you don't have to come lay on the floor in here anymore. Okay?”

“‘Kay.” You snuggle into him, enjoying his warmth.

Eddie manages to get up and lift you without too much jostling. “Can you go lay on the bed and I'll give her to you?” He asks Buck.

“Okay.” You hear the jingle of Buck’s belt and then the clank of it hitting the floor. Next, your set gently on the bed cuddled close to Buck, his arm your pillow.

“You're warm,” you announce and you press yourself even closer and move your head into his chest.

“I'll be back soon,” Eddie says. “Try to get some sleep if you can.”

You whine, not wanting him to leave. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the station. We need an IV kit, fluids, zofran, and probably Tylenol.”

“I don't want an IV.”

“Sweetheart, you're very dehydrated,” Eddie explains. “If you can't keep down water then you need the IV.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

Buck chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Eddie leans over and kisses your head then a quick parting kiss to Buck’s lips. “Love you guys. I'll be quick.”

“We love you, too.” Buck says.

A minute later you hear Eddie’s keys jingle and then the front door open and close.

“Sorry I woke you like that earlier.”

You snort a laugh. “Not your fault, you didn't know.”

He runs his fingers up and down your side and shoulder in random patterns. “Try to sleep,” he suggests.

“Can you tell me a story?” you ask.

“What kind of story?”

“I don't care. It's just soothing to hear you talk,” you tell him. “Might help me sleep.”

He starts to tell you all about flamingos because he knows how much you love them. He explains everything from how they get their color to their migration patterns and before long you feel yourself sinking into a peaceful sleep.

You wake to the sounds of Buck and Eddie laughing. You can tell they’re trying to be quiet but the giggles are shaking you and the whole bed. “What's so funny?”

“Crap. Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you,” Buck says.

“It's fine. I need to pee anyway.” You shift to roll onto your back but end up leaned against Eddie. “You didn't tell me what was funny.”

“Just a dumb video on TikTok,” Eddie explains. “How're you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider your answer. Your head still hurts but not as much. You still have nausea but it's much more bearable. “Shitty, but kind of better.”

Buck rolls and then stands before offering you a hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You reach over to take his hand, noticing the IV line for the first time. “I slept through that?”

“Bathroom,” Buck answers.

“Exhaustion will do that,” Eddie answers your second question.

Buck helps you up and your muscles protest the change in position. He wraps an arm around your waist as you sway slightly.

You take a deep breath and blow it out. “I'm good. Let's go.”

Eddie stands and grabs the bag of fluids you hadn't noticed hanging on a command hook on the wall.

All three of you head to the bathroom together and as you sit you look around. “I like this view of the bathroom much better than the other.”

“I prefer this, too,” Eddie says. “Especially the knowing you're not as dehydrated.”

“Yeah, you already look so much better than this morning,” Buck adds.

You slowly make your way back to the bed and as you're making yourself comfortable you catch a glimpse of the clock. “Holy crap! How is it almost 11?”

They both just chuckle. “That's what happens when you sleep for three hours,” Eddie explains.

“I think that's more sleep than I got total all night. Guess I needed a better pillow,” you laugh as you look at Buck.

“You could have had that all night if you'd called us. I'm going to go make you some soup,” Buck announces as he leaves the room.

“I'm not hungry.”

Eddie sits down beside you. “You have to try a few bites at least, okay?”

You pout at him. “I don't want to puke anymore.”

“You shouldn't. I gave you some zofran,” he tries to sooth you.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes “But you better have that bucket close by.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “It's on the floor right here, but you're not going to need it.”

“You're awfully optimistic given that I'm still nauseous.”

“You said you felt better,” he chastises. “Is it still as bad?”

Leaning back into him, you explain, “I said I feel shitty. Shitty is better than feeling like death. I'm less nauseous, but still nauseous.”

“I'm sorry you feel shitty,” he intertwines his fingers with yours and lifts it to kiss your knuckles. “The soup should help you feel less shitty. Hopefully you're just nauseous because you have nothing in your system. So just try a few bites, okay?”

Buck returns with a tray in his hands. “I have soup, the old fashioned chicken noodle just like you like. I also have saltine crackers, oyster crackers, sprite, and water.” He sets the tray in front of you and then leans in to kiss you.

You pull away quickly. “Don't kiss me. You'll catch this plague.”

“I'll risk it.”

You lift the spoon and drink a spoonful of the broth and then you pause, waiting for the nausea to get worse. When it doesn't, you continue slowly with more broth and then eventually the noodles and a couple crackers.

Eventually you manage to eat almost half the soup and a few sips of water before you set the spoon down. “I'm done. I can't handle any more right now.”

“That's fine. You ate way more than I expected,” Eddie says.

Buck takes the water and sprite off the tray and sets them on the bedside table before taking the rest away.

“Can I have my hand back yet?” You lift the hand with the IV line and give him your best pouty face.

He shakes his head. “No. I will unhook the fluids when that bag is gone but I want to keep the IV lock for now until we're sure you're going to keep all that down.”

You roll your eyes. “Fiiiiine.”

He laughs. “Do you want me to have to poke you again if you do puke more?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No.”

“Thought so.” He boops your nose. “Glad to see you're feeling better.”

Buck returns and snuggles in beside you on the bed. “You want to pick a movie to nap through?”

You smiled and they both groaned. “Sleeping Beauty! Oh, wait, Enchanted… no, I actually want to be awake for that. Sleeping Beauty for sure.”

“Why do you make us watch princess movies when you know you're only going to watch ten minutes?” Buck complained.

“Because it's fun.” You shrugged. “Plus, then I get to dream I'm a princess.”

Buck raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying that if we switch to football as soon as you're asleep you're going to dream about that?”

“Probably.”

“Sleeping Beauty on one condition…” Eddie started.

“What?” you asked.

“Next time you get sick while we're at work, you call us immediately.”

“No,” you argued. “Because there won't be a next time. This is awful. I don't want a repeat.”

“Fine. If! If by some small chance it happens or if you just get the sniffles… you call.”

“Deal.”

Eddie gets the movie set up and you make yourself comfortable. This time you use Eddie as a body pillow and Buck drapes his arm over your waist.

The movie starts and you almost instantly feel yourself drifting. “Love you guys.” You mumble as you close your eyes.

They chorus an “I love you too,” as you fall into a dreamless slumber.

[avifaunaa]

how the world spins without you [ n.r. ] [ p.2 ]

AUTHORS NOTE: the amount of likes i got on chapter one blew my mind. i'm glad you guys enjoy it enough to have liked / reblogged! i'm still considerably new to writing on tumblr so i'm really happy with what i've been getting thus far! i hope you like this second part!

Masterlist

PART ONE

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has mastered the art of falling in love . . . she thinks. Having graduated with a shiny new degree and on your way to work with Tony in his labs, she was closer to you than ever. When an important mission pulls her away it leaves you both realizing how incredibly important it is that you don't skip the little moments you get.

Content Warnings: Mild angst, fluff, overabundance of Natasha being soft, reader referred to with she/her pronouns, smut, top!nat and bottom!reader, fingering [ n and r receiving ], MILD dumbification, MILD dedragation [ r receiving ] strap-on use [ r!receiving ], praise [ r!receiving ], hair-pulling, some finger-sucking

Word Count: ~7.7k

Natasha thinks you like Yelena.

That was her hope, anyway, when she asked her little sister to come finally meet the woman who had caught her eye and managed to peel her open and get even her most buried away memories and desires to be expressed in just a few short months.

It was a few days before you big day as Yelena sat across from Nat, sprawled across an armchair like an unruly child with legs spread open and propped over the legs. She chose where so sit this time despite Nat glancing longingly at her table.

She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace diagonal to her sister's armchair instead. She drank something strawberry-flavored today, a seasonal drink to draw in customers despite the business that the shop never seemed to lose.

She thinks you'd like it -- she hated it.

"So, you drag me here," the braided blonde begins, licking whipped cream off of her cold drink. Then proceeds to stick her finger inside to get more.

"Yelena that's disgusting."

"Who else is drinking this? Huh?" A perfectly arched eyebrow raised at her. "Is there a law against being disgusting? Pah." She popped her fingers in her mouth. "You are rude for interrupting me."

Natasha's eyes float up to the ceiling. Would Melina mind all that much if she killed Yelena?

She believes Alexi would be proud of her.

"As I was saying," the former Widow continued when Natasha did not speak, taking her silence as encouragement, "you drag me here and give me fattening sugary American drinks."

"I figured you'd like it," Natasha said, drink abandoned as she rests her hand on the armchair of the couch. "You eat nothing but Kraft. I try to get you other brands and you threaten to shoot me."

"Because the other brands are cardboard covered in plastic cheese!" Yelena threw her arms up, coffee still in hand, and uncrossed her legs to sit up rightly. "Nat I will never forgive you for trying to trick me into these poor excuses of mac-n-cheese. Truly. I know the difference. I am an assassin."

"Of store bought goods?"

Yelena scowled at her and used her straw to flick whipped cream in Nat's direction. The glob landed sadly on the couch cushion instead of where Yelena likely aimed: her forehead.

"Damn," the younger of the two whispered, stabbing her straw back into place.

"Clean that up," Natasha ordered, gesturing to the napkins left out for patrons on the coffee table.

"Yes mom," Yelena grumbles, but did it anyway and sniffed after a minute of sipping her drink like a scolded toddler. "You were right. This is a very delicious drink."

"How hard was it for you to admit that?"

"Very. But we have gotten off the topic of why you dragged me here and I know it is not just for this as much as I wish it was."

Natasha had to hand it to Yelena for her observance. The two of them were the Red Room's most prized creations of differing generations of Widows but both had been given the same end goal and similar orders at the end of the day.

Her sister was impulsive and quick to jump the gun -- but it normally worked in her favor and could be better in certain situations where Natasha's tendency to react more strategically may be too slow for some situations.

She tapped her index fingers together. "I am seeing someone. Someone who is important to me and I think I could find happiness with her if I continue to undo everything our upbringing has taught us."

Whatever Yelena had been expecting her to announce, it sure as hell wasn't that. The blonde adverted her eyes momentarily either in bafflement or incredulity before masking herself up with a sly smirk.

"Her?" Yelena purred, placing her cup on the side table separating them. "You've really been discovering yourself, haven't you, Sestra?"

"Suka," Natasha shot back, feeling the weight begin to lift off of her chest. She was worried for Yelena's response -- she didn't know if she expected disgust, anger, maybe doubt?

"We are not built for the type of relationships she might seek from you," Yelena finally says, her accent thickening with concern as she struggled not to regress into Russian to speak to Nat. "What have you told her . . . about everything?"

Natasha cupped her own chin with her hand and rested her elbow on the armrest. "Very little, but enough to paint her a picture that tells her it was an evil childhood. I am sure she did some searches on me and read whatever she found and if she did it did not seem to scare her off."

"You could hurt her."

A thorn struck at Natasha's heart. Yelena was truthful in all accounts, and she expected no lies or sugar-coated warnings from her and never would have in the first place. But it still hurt to hear Yelena have expressed what Natasha feared.

"I know," was all she replied, gaze turning to the weak fire in the fireplace.

"Or she could . . . hurt you very badly."

"That's always been a possibility, yes."

Yelena was silent for a moment. The two of them watched the fire as it crackled and attempted to keep itself alive with so little to work on.

"You like her very much," Yelena said -- not asked.

"I do," Natasha admitted and found her throat dry when she swallowed back everything she wanted to say.

Yelena nodded a couple of times, soaking in the words and reading the tone seeped within them. Then, "I will have to kill her very slowly if she makes you cry."

Natasha sniffled, watery eyes turning to her as a laugh broke from her chest.

Natasha watched you walk off the stage and she would not cry. But Gods — the pride she felt as she saw you stride with confidence was absolutely everything and more to her.

Kate had reached out to her and invited her to attend around the same time you had. Natasha had decided to surprise you and made up a quick lie by telling you she would be on a mission.

You were saddened but when she almost broke and ruined her and Kate’s plan, you and promised her that it was okay: everything else after would make up for it.

And now you were crying in her arms as her fingers ran through your silky hair, done beautifully for your day. Your introduction to Yelena was hilarious to her but that was something to look back on later.

Now the four of you sat in Kate’s hotel room. You were curled up tightly against Natasha freshly showered and dressed in one of her hoodies. Yelena and Kate were arguing about what movie to watch and Natasha had to intervene when Yelena pulled out her gun and slammed it on the table in the corner.

“I think I have the final say. We watch Brother Bear,” Yelena said, palm splayed on top of the weapon like it was nothing more than a trading card.

Kate stared at the gun, then at Yelena, then yelled, “Why the fuck are you carrying around a gun like a crazed woman? Like seriously? What the fuck?”

“You’re welcome if someone attacks us and I so happen to have the gun,” the blonde snarked back, nose wrinkling with frustration.

Kate threw her hands in the air then turned to you. “Dude — she just — did you see that?”

You blinked sleepily and were jerked out of Natasha’s warm embrace as the redhead suddenly got up and grabbed Yelena by the scruff. “Ow! Suka! What do you think you are doing?” She yowled as Natasha drags her over to the second bed.

Natasha flings the flailing woman down and crosses her arms. You sit upright and glare at Kate, who went from smirking to abashed at your gaze on her.

“Both of you are being childish,” Natasha said, striding back to the table and snatching the gun. She unloads it and packs the bullets and gun away in her bag. “Yelena that was first year shit you did, pulling your gun out and flashing it.”

Yelena flushed red and crossed her arms, pouting on the bed. “I do not like Finding Nemo. It is sad but not the good kind of sad.”

“Brother Bear is sadder!” Kate exclaims as she walks over and flops face first down next to Yelena.

“But there is vicious bears in it. That makes it fun again. Finding Nemo is just said.”

Natasha retakes her spot next to you, slinging an arm around you and pulling you in tight. “Well tough luck. I think we’re going to go with Spirited Away instead.”

You perked up at the suggestion as Nat worked on logging into the streaming service that offered the movie.

“What is that?” Yelena asked, scooting upward by the pillows and flinging her legs downward so that they landed hard on Kate’s back.

The brunette yelped out, shoving Yelena’s legs and sitting upright with an icy glare.

“Only the best movie ever,” you whispered as you stared up at Natasha covetedly in adoration.

Yelena kept demanding the movie be paused so she could ask questions about it. Anytime Natasha tried to answer, the blonde shushed her and waited for you to explain instead.

You explained patiently for her until the younger Russian was pleased and allowed the movie to continue.

Eventually you all — sans Natasha — fell asleep.

You got breakfast together at one your favorite places in town near campus and by then you and Yelena had developed a closer bond. She asked more about Spirited Away and if it had a sequel.

“I wish,” you groaned, flopping back in the booth dramatically as Kate patted your knee next to you. “The studio that made it though . . . It makes really good movies besides that one. I should show all of them to you.”

“Oh now you’ve done it,” Kate chirped and dug into her breakfast burrito without explaining further.

Yelena waves her off like a gnat. “I’d love to watch these movies with you if it means Kate Bishop will suffer.”

Kate’s head jerked up so quick, indignant and puffy in the chest. “First of all,” she said, echoing you from yesterday as she pointed a tater tot at the offender across from her, “I need you to go jump off a building immediately.”

“Did that. Hated it,” she shot back quickly in a bored tone despite the mischief that gleamed on her features. “What is your second of all.”

“Second of all,” Kate continued, then stopped. She blinked as Yelena’s shit-eating grin grew slowly, “Fuck you.”

Yelena gasped. “Kate Bishop how could you — why —“ she went on acting as if she were taken aback beyond fixing.

You and Natasha found each other’s eyes over your meals and you noticed the look in her eyes mirrored how engorged your heart felt in this moment.

Natasha was true to her word. You got an interview offer from Stark Industries — sent and signed by Tony Stark himself. It was about three weeks after your graduation and move back to New York which was entirely unexpected so soon.

It was early and you had slipped out of the warmth that Natasha exuded like a space heater. Dawn was making an entrance into your bedroom and you turned to look at your sleeping girlfriend through hooded eyes.

She looked so peaceful as she slept — and it was her time sleeping over at that. Her hesitance to do so had led to a necessary conversation as you tried to avoid pushing her too hard.

“I get night terrors sometimes,” she told you as she sat across from you on the bed and you leaned against the wall. “And not just . . . Not ones you see when you look up the signs on the Internet. Mine can be violent.”

You noticed how low her body was haunched as she made her confession to you, hands rubbing against each other and eyes avoiding yours.

“Nat.” Her gaze flicks to you as you push off the wall and get to your knees in front of her. “Do you think you could hurt me? Are they that often?”

She curled a strand of your hair around her finger. She treated you so delicately at times and it pissed you off to no end that there was a reason for it and you couldn’t fix it.

“They’re not often,” she comments while basking in your comfort offered to her. Being with you had made her realize that her touch-aversion was some form of touch-starvation if the person was right. She always seemed to be in contact with you if she could help it.

“Okay,” you finalized, standing up and resting a hand on her cheek. “Then why are you worried? If you have a terror while we’re together — we can make a plan so I can handle it properly. Or we learn as we go.” She then swallowed. “But if you . . . If you’re not comfortable . . .”

“I do,” she promised, leaning into your palm. “I’m just very worried. Hurting you is not something I could ever let myself live with.”

You ran a thumb down her cheekbone. “Then let’s try together. Slowly. Until you feel like that fear is no longer something realistic.”

She stayed over that night and has done so increasingly since. She hadn’t had a mission since before your graduation and she told you to expect her to be pulled at any second.

You took what you could get with Nat — time was precious and she gave you so much of herself.

A chill ran up your spine when the warmth of your bed and Nat’s hold escaped you; you quickly went to your closet to grab your thick and too-large robe and slip it on along with your sandals.

You kissed Natasha’s temple as you grabbed your apartment and mail key and headed out downstairs to where the front desk was already in to retrieve mail forgotten from this week.

You start flipping through it on your way up, pushing the button to your floor and inserting the key to allow it through.

It was mostly junk mail, a couple of offers for interviews at tech companies, and some reminders about returning her dorm keys. You already did.

The elevator dings open for you on your floor and you do not even look up as you continue flipping through. How much mail do you forget to grab?

You listen for the elevator doors to shut behind you and stopped halfway in your tracks when you flipped one of your bills to discover the white envelope with the large STARK INDUSTRIES stamped on the corner and your full fucking name and address on the front.

“Oh my fucking god,” you burst out in a high pitched scream, slamming the stack of unread mail onto the corner of your dining room table where it proceeded to spill onto the hardwood.

Care you did not — your mind was on one thing: showing your girlfriend this piece of news that was going to change your life. You scrambled on sock-clad feet across the hardwood to your bedroom, trying not to knock into corner walls.

Natasha had startled awake at your scream up and hair askew as she pulled out her gun from her pants in the middle of the floor, eyes frenzied and blurred from sleep.

You stopped in your doorway and she stopped too, gun lowered to the floor. You were practically vibrating where you stood, the early dawn sunlight that filtered into your apartment’s windows painting a beautiful portrait Natasha wanted on her walls.

“You scared me,” Natasha breathed as her body relaxed, thumping heart still loud against her chest. She shakily set the gun on the nightstand behind her. “What’s got you screeching like an injured creature, Malyshka?”

You beamed at her with excitement that was damn near contagious, scooting forward on your feet and jerking your arms out quickly with whatever you had in your hands as close to her face as you could get.

The absurdity of the entire show you were putting on in your glee was peaking her curiosity. So Natasha took your wrists in her hands and gently pushing them back about three inches from her face so she could see what it was. “Easy, my love. I need to be able to actually look at it.”

You said nothing back but kept that ear to ear grin and flushed excitement about you which read to your girlfriend that it was very good whatever it was you were bringing to her.

She focused on the envelope in your hands and steadied your grasp to ease the shaking. When her eyes scanned the words across the envelope, a slow grin of her own started creeping up on her face and she lowered your arms.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” she asked you proudly.

You glanced at the letter, then at her, then bit your lip. “I want to, yes. But more than that . . . I really wanna kiss you.”

Natasha smirked. “I should maybe be concerned that a letter from Stark gets you so affectionate, huh?” But she cups your cheeks and brings you in for a kiss anyways, sharing your excitement with you.

The interview took place at the Avengers Compound. Over the phone, Pepper Potts explained to you that you’d likely be working closely to the Avengers and thus with Tony. Where he went you would go. You were fine with that as long as you had access to the labs and could get your hands working.

Natasha was the one to drive you to the in-person interview once your background check came through clean. She was already someone with complete access and Tony wouldn’t have to send Happy or Pepper and increase your anxiety by sitting in silence.

Natasha knew how to filter out the nerves by keeping you occupied. She discussed the features of the Compound with you, and she mentions that you’ll finally get to meet her cat Liho who she’s been discussing in great detail to about you.

You had squeezed her hand and kissed the back of it before you were separated for the interview.

Tony liked you — maybe? You couldn’t tell through his highly-caffeinated, long-winded tour once you sped through the interview with him.

He had asked you mostly engineering questions . . . Oddly enough. No, “where do you see yourself in the next five years? What starting pay is best? What hours do you see working the most?”

“It’s all bullshit,” he said to you, leaning across his office desk with furrowed brows. “I plan on paying you your worth and if you’re as dedicated as you say you are, you’ll have trouble leaving the lab to sleep. And you’ll stay because I am the best there is in terms of what you want to do.”

He clocked it — but you shouldn’t have been entirely surprised. Money wasn’t much to him materially and he sat you down in the lab and watched as you began tinkering with things and babbling about their use.

He hired you within two hours.

Natasha, however, had to come hunt you down by seven at night. She found you and Tony buried into one of his suit’s arms as he was explaining the workings to you and what made it run.

“Agent Romanoff requests entrance, Mr. Stark. Shall I let her in?”

The voice above scared you. You jumped and admittingly almost twisted a wire or two. Tony scratched his chin and said, “I guess I should’ve told you about FRIDAY. That’s FRIDAY. She’s a good friend.”

“Thank you.”

“What is she?” You wondered. There was no indication of another person or even an intercom in the room.

“She’s an artificial intelligence I developed after Wanda’s husband decided he wanted to be a real boy,” the genius replied, leaning against the table to stare down at you. “She makes our lives a little easier but if you don’t want have an extesinal crisis I’d stay away from asking her if she has feelings.”

“Mr. Stark —“ the womanized AI started again, but Tony cut it off.

“Let Romanoff in. Let’s see what I’m in trouble for this time.”

The doors slid open with nothing more than a whisper and your girlfriend strides in. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she looks like she just got done doing something active. You let your eyes graze over her.

“Are you done hogging my girlfriend now, Stark?” Natasha questioned, rounding the workbench to look down at what had you so fascinated for hours.

“I suppose,” Tony said gloomily. “But don’t keep her away too long. I hired her and plan on squeezing her brain of all its important juices.”

Natasha leaned forward over your shoulder to kiss your cheek. Then she quirked a brow at Tony. “Juices stay in her brain or I’ll fuck up your suits.”

“Who makes your Widow Bites, again?”

Natasha pointed a steady finger in his direction. “Don’t test me, playboy.”

“You forgot the rest of the title.”

Natasha ignored him and leaned back down, kissing your cheeks in peppered pecks. The actions forced you to set down your tools and lean into her. “What’ve you been here doing, my love?”

“Mr. Stark is showing me how he makes his suits work and how else that technology can be used,” you told her, turning around on the stool to face her. You grin up at her, a twinkle bright in your eye. “This is so important and . . . God, Nat. I love this. Thank you.”

“Thank her?” Tony protests nearby, a clatter of objects following. “I cannot believe —“

You glance his way but Natasha puts a finger under your chin. “I’m glad your dream is coming to fruition, Malyshka,” she said, green eyes soft. “Would you like to spend the night?”

You stared up at her wide eyed. “Really? With you?”

Natasha’s answering smile was practically feral.

“Get out of my lab,” Tony grumbled. “And don’t come back until you’re decent tomorrow morning. With coffee!”

It’s been a year and you don’t think you could have made a career this successful this quickly. Not without the support of Natasha [ who insisted you could’ve done it anyway ].

But right now you were exhausted and more than anything felt like you needed a vacation. You had time built up waiting to be used but in the year you’ve been working at the Compound, no time felt right.

Natasha had gotten as busy as you not long after you started with missions that she would come home from bloodied and bruised. Patching her up was scarier than her leaving sometimes because you couldn’t tell which injuries were surface and which ones needed the keen eye of Doctor Cho.

You’d been stuck in the lab the last week and Natasha had left a month ago. She had found Wanda Maximoff — the Scarlett Witch who fell in love with Vision but ultimately lost him to Thanos as a sacrifice to save everyone else.

Natasha had looked at you grimly when she told you it was an undercover operation. You were confused, “Aren’t you sort of friends?”

“Yes, which might make it all the more volatile, sadly. She has taken a town under her control and Sam and I are both being sent in.” She leaned down to kiss you but you pulled back.

“A town? That’s . . . That sounds like a lot of power, Nat,” you whisper, uneasiness settling inside your gut. “Are you sure that it’s safe to go in?”

“It’s not safe,” she says slowly, gently. “But Wanda is my friend as you said and she is hurting but she’s lashing out at innocent people in response. It will look better from people she knows to break her from it than S.W.O.R.D. marching in. She is not on good terms with them.”

“I see.” You looked down at her suit and adjusted some things, fiddling mostly. She allowed you to do so even if nothing was really wrong with it. “Are your Widow Bites charged?”

“They could take down a bear,” she promised, then kissed you. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“We’re taking a vacation,” you told her firmly. “I’ll ask Tony when you get back. He won’t protest . . . Much.”

Natasha smirks. “If he does, I’ll kick his ass.”

You watched her and Sam board the Quinjet already missing her. Once the aircraft was out of sight was when you dug yourself back into your work. Tony didn’t ask, but he would force more breaks on you that he didn’t give himself.

Sleeping by yourself had become a lonely affair without Nat; though you did have her ever-watchful companion of the night. Liho cuddled nicely most nights as long as you fed her on time. She was a good motivator to get out of the lab by seven at the latest.

Two months without Natasha and not a peep from her has you hyper focused on anything but her. You designed a new technology you hoped could enable pipes in some countries to not need replacement as much, and keep water fresh with auto-testers.

It was still a work in progress and Tony was not shy to peek over your shoulder and cross out when something wouldn’t work in his eyes — and usually he was right when you got to the phase where you created a prototype.

“Kid.” A rough hand landed on your shoulder. You jolted slightly, spilling screws and bolts and whatever else you had collected onto the floor around you.

“Fuck.” Your hand carded through your hair, messy from a day of non-stop work. “Sorry, Tony. I’ll pick it up. Just —“

“FRIDAY can get it,” he said just as a specialized roomba came humming out from a miniature doorway in the corner and started cleaning up the mess. “It’s like ten PM, kid. Go to your rooms.”

“I fed Liho already,” you murmured, picking at your thumb with your index finger as you went over your fifth blueprint. “She’s fine.”

“Not talking about the cat.”

You broke away from the small, dimly lit zone you had sequestered yourself into and turned. Tony was in some pajamas with fuzzy slippers.

“You know as well as anybody I don’t leave this lab,” he started, awkwardly shuffling his feet. “But look — Nat made me promise that you wouldn’t burn yourself out.”

You furrowed your brow, “I’m not burnt out. I’m fine.” Your head was pounding and you knew you stank since your last shower was the night before — but anything beat going back to that quiet place.

“You’re talking to deputy director of burnt out, I’m afraid,” Tony retorted, gesturing for you to stand. It was a standoff when you sort of just sat there and he waited expectantly. “Don’t make me be your boss, Y/N, seriously.”

You sighed, leaning backward enough to reach the lamp to flick it off and get up. Your muscles ached deeply when you wobbled across the lab to the doors.

“Night, kid,” Tony calls as he sets down the other hallway of the compound where his and Peppers’ rooms are located.

Liho meowed loudly, eyes like lamplights in the darkened floor of your rooms as you entered. She rubbed between your legs and purred thickly before darting off to Nat’s bedroom to wait in bed for you.

One hot shower later and you crawled into the sheets, curling around Natasha’s previously untouched pillows instead of yours. You missed her deeply. So deeply.

You hoped sleep would chase away the longing.

Natasha pressed a few switches and pulled a lever that allowed her to safely gear the Quinjet into a safe landing. She waited for everything to power down properly, drooping in her seat and rubbing at her eyes. One of them still healing from being bruised.

The town was unhexed and mostly unharmed. Just traumatized and distraught by the events that plagued them for two months by the mysterious witch that held them hostage.

Natasha and Sam had gone in so quickly — before Wanda had a second to realize there was a disturbance. They posed as a married couple and played along with her games — the way she ran her show.

Natasha ached deeply for Wanda. All she saw when witnessing these events were acts of a broken woman failed by the world. She understood why the witch had done it. If it had been you . . .

Natasha put her fingers against the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, still waiting for the low beeping signal that would alert her that the Quinjet was finished cooling down.

They hadn’t expected a second witch. Not until Wanda figured out who she was and that was as soon as Wanda realized Natasha and Sam were there — not just creations she forgot she made.

It was a fucking disaster.

Wanda was gone. Again. She had defeated this other witch that seemed to have sought Wanda out for her power but as a result she ran without talking to Natasha.

She could still taste Wanda’s despair and shame.

“Nat.” Someone nudged her. She rolled the chair around and found Sam waiting for her. He gestured to the open backend of the Quinjet. “We’re home now. I think you should get some rest.”

Natasha smiled as she got to her feet, making sure she didn’t forget to do anything before following him out and making the trek across the landing zone to the Compound.

It was too early. Two in the morning — and she would only be crawling next to you in her bed and drinking in your scent and catching up on lost sleep. Hopefully.

Liho was not there to greet her.

It was disappointing — her cat was easily made a traitor it would appear. She dropped her bag on the ground by the door and made her way to the bedroom, leaning in the doorway.

Liho poked her head up, ears pinned back before realizing it was Natasha there and chirped a greeting. Rolled onto her back and purred loudly from her spot in the crook of your blanketed legs.

“Been keeping her company, Liho?” the spy asked, reaching over to skritch her behind the ears. “Good kitty.”

Liho blinked in agreement before releasing Nat to the bathroom, where she did her best to spot clean so she wouldn’t wake you with a full on shower.

She climbed into bed behind you and sighed when you seemed to automatically melt into her as if on instinct.

She was asleep within seconds.

You woke up to more warmth than Liho usually has in one tiny body to provide for you. You moved around and stretched, turning into the warmth —

You shot up.

“Where’s the fire?” Natasha grumbled as she turned back over and buried her face into the pillow without taking at least one hand off your body.

“When the fuck did you get home?” you fell completely on top of her in attempt to body hug her completely.

Nat groaned, but adjusted back onto her back so you could curl up on her chest. A hand went up the back of your shirt and traced the skin of your spine. “Uhh . . . Like two?”

You nosed under her chin, peppering kisses where bruises seemed to lay. “I wanted you unharmed.”

“Tried my best, Malyshka.”

You moved up and closer to her to grasp her chin between your thumb and index finger. She opened her green eyes and smiled crookedly at you. "Gonna just stare?"

You kissed her if nothing else, then to at least shut her up. She responded to the kiss instantly with need that outdid your own.

Her nails found home in the skin of your back, dragging carefully up and down as the kiss was deepened more than it already was. You pulled back, fully straddling her waist and was quick to remove your shirt. She let you.

"So beautiful," you breathed, nosing yourself into her neck and nibbling. She grunted as she pushed your ass closer to her in an attempt to keep you in place.

"You feel so good," Nat murmured back, straining her neck upwards to give you more access. With more openings to proceed and no reason to stop, your lips began a path at the same time your hand started floundering backwards for her shorts.

"Want 'em off," you breathed against her skin. It was too close to a whine for your liking but Natasha obeyed your request anyways and helped you to remove the shorts.

You pulled your lips away to situate yourself and brushed your fingers against her thigh. "Did you miss me?" you asked casually as you went about tracing random designs close but not close enough to where she wanted you.

"You know I did. Every day," she said, that normally composed woman of yours sounding rather out of breath.

You smiled and trailed your fingers a bit closer -- just barely brushing her slit. "I missed you too," you told her, reaching a finger into her pussy and gathering wetness and run it up to her clit.

She drew in air. "Malyshka," she said shortly, "teasing me is not in your favor. It has never worked before."

You ignored her and set a slow pace just as your hips started circling with your finger, adding some pressure onto your hand and more stimulation for yourself. Her hands found home on your hips.

You leaned in close to her ear without stopping, whispering so lowly that she could be forgiven if she hadn't heard it, "I touched myself so much thinking about you when you were gone. It was usually never enough, though. You always know what to do -- how to please me. Isn't it sad how I can't seem to please myself in the ways you seem to know how?"

Fingernails dug into your hips just as you sank two fingers into her cunt, your thumb replacing your index on her clit to keep the slow and steady circles going as you began to thrust into her.

She broke into Russian curses and brought her teeth to your shoulder, digging them in to keep from getting loud. You wished she didn't feel the need to contain herself -- she never had to with you.

"You're doing so good," Nat breathed around your shoulder, eyes squeezed tight as you pushed one hand deep into the mattress and reangled to try and find that one spot inside her that you know drives her insane.

"Fuck, Malyshka, right there," she moaned, abdomen flexing from the strain as you picked up your pace and your strength. She loved rough and you weren't one to deny it when she said words to you that had you putty in your hands.

Even when you fucked her she was in control in the most powerful way.

"I need you to make me come," was drawled in your ear, growing less composed the closer she was getting to her orgasm. You could fell it to in the way she spent longer clenched around your fingers and the way she grew wetter.

"Yeah?" you whisper back, locking in and going for broke as you began at a speed not usually in your range but the sounds and way Natasha clutched you encouraged you on.

"I'm so close."

"Then come for me," you begged her. You need to feel it, to see it, to fucking drink it in like you did with everything that was Natasha Romanoff.

The sting in your hips grew near unbearable as she crossed her legs behind your back and froze up. You fucked her through her orgasm and ensured not to look away one second.

It was a quiet thing, the way she came. Never too much noise but always expressive from the flush in her face and chest to the way her face goes lax in ways nobody else gets to see but you.

You helped her ride down the waves until she sank into the sheets, eyes opening onto the ceiling as her chest rose and fell heavily.

"Have you been practicing while I've been gone?" she wheezed, raking her fingers through her hair as you climbed off of her and licked your fingers clean of her.

"Oh yeah, I've got so much practice," you teased with a cheeky grin. "Me, myself, and my vibrator."

You suddenly had your world spun around too quickly for you to comprehend. Before you knew it, you found yourself looking up at Natasha.

"Stay," she ordered sternly, sliding off of your prone form and making her way to the closet.

You did not argue but you did watch her ass sway as she disappeared.

You were no better than a man.

She returned buckled into a harness, adjusting the straps and you peered up to see which dildo she chose. If it was the eight incher, you think you'd die.

It was the eight incher.

Your head fell heavily back onto the pillows and knew now that Natasha was taking no prisoners today as she settled her knees on the edge of the bed and dragged your ass all the way down.

She saw the look on your face and gained a wicked gleam to her eye. "What -- you thought you'd get away with what you just did? Not have consequences?"

"Kinda," you admitted.

"Appreciate the honesty -- but no dice." She smacked your ass. "Roll over, ass in the air."

You were purposefully slow in your movements, considering that she planned on undressing you and then straight up fucking you in this position and you decided to give her somewhat of a challenge in the process.

"Princess," she warned as she reached for the hem of your shirt. "You're being a brat."

"Sounds like a big problem . . . for you."

She ripped your shirt clean off to your chagrin, and made quick work with your sweats and underwear next. She ran open-palmed hands up the sides of your thighs and ass as she took in the sight of you.

Then her eyes glanced downward to your ass and she kicked your ankles open to where she could see your exposed pussy. Her mouth watered at how wet it was.

"Look at you," she husked, leaning over you and licking a stripe down your back. "So spread open and ready to take me. Do you need my fingers first, baby?"

Your reply was muffled by the sheets. Natasha took a handful of your hair and pulled your head up, "What was that?"

"Fingers first," you slurred and her lips quirked up at that hazy cloud starting to form in your eyes.

"Fingers first . . . ?" she trailed off, tugging just a bit harder.

"Please," you added quickly.

Natasha hummed with approval before dropping your head back onto the bed. "Alright -- since you're so fucking tight and need some fingers to loosen you up, I suppose I can warm you up."

You squeaked something out but Natasha did not force you to elaborate, knowing it was likely just garbled words anyway. She did not tease, did not draw it out. She simply thrusted three fingers in after testing your wetness.

Your body raised off the bed at the intrusion, "Nat," you whimpered clutching the sheets, "too much."

"Too much?" she repeated, raising a brow, "are you sure?"

She let you think about it as she worked her fingers in and out of you, and she removed one to give you a moment to think. "T-three, Natty."

"Are you sure?" she asked again, doing three fingers in and then two. Keeping you both over-and-under stimulated at once in the best way. "For such a smart, beautiful girl you sure are being dumb right now. Can't even make up your mind."

You whined a little into the sheets. "M'sorry. Feels good."

"Aw, I'm sure it does baby," Natasha crooned, lacing her tone with thick false sympathy. "Is that what's making it hard to think? How good it feels?"

She watched you nod into the bed. "S'lot, Natty."

"I bet," the redhead agreed, just barely brushing against your g-spot and never actually giving you enough pleasure to come. "Maybe I should go put my cock away if you're unsure if you can handle even three fingers."

"N-no!" you garbled, tightening around her suddenly. She brushed your hair from the nape of your neck and leaned down to kiss it tenderly. "Wanna take it."

"Oh baby, I want you to take it too," she says, nibbling a mark where she started a kiss. "But are you so sure you can handle it? You're so sensitive today."

"Yes! Yes I can handle it," you promised raptly, ass starting to arch higher and meeting Natasha's thrust with fevered passion. "P-please. Wanna take it."

"Okay, okay, Malyshka," she soothed and moved her lips to pepper kisses along what parts of her face was exposed to her. "Okay. You can have my cock because you're a good girl and good girls get what they need."

The praise sent a jerk through your nervous system at the same time as she pulled out with her fingers intentionally running along your walls.

She eyes the fingers covered in your wetness and resists the urge to lick them clean. Rather she decides to give your mouth something to do by putting them up to you, "Suck, baby."

Just as you took her fingers into your mouth you let out a low noise that was damn near animalistic as Natasha took you with her cock. She slipped in smoothly, eyes twitching at the pressure she felt at the base on her.

With her free hand she slithers down between your body and the surface of the bed so she could start putting pressure on your engorged clit.

She let you adjust before deciding to finally, after a few seconds of waiting, begin slow movements that already had shivers wracking through you.

She decides to talk you through them, to bring you as much pleasure as she possibly can in this moment after two months of not touching you at all, "How's it feel? Is my cock hitting you where it should?"

"S'full," you somehow managed. Well, if you were still talking . . . she pulled all the way out and pushed back in at a punishing pace.

"Gonna try to keep you full, too," she went on as her rotations on your clit began to increase and grew rougher. You were suffocating her cock and if she could truly feel it like a man . . .

"My Gods," she laughed mockingly, "were you this desperate for my touch that you're melting this quickly? I've not been inside you that long, Malyshka."

Whatever noise you made went right through Nat's ears. She was rough and unforgiving now as she practically had you choking on her fingers while the tip of the dildo brushed repeatedly on your g-spot.

Your thighs were trembling with signs that you were close even if you could not so much as whisper a word to tell Nat.

She knew your tells anyway -- just as you knew hers. You were drooling around her fingers and unable to form coherent sentences, you were grinding her hand into the sheets and giving her a rug-burn more than likely, and you were stuttering with every wave of near-pleasure that shocked you.

Natasha decided denying and playing the game of keepaway wasn't on the table today. She wanted to make you come.

It didn't take very long. One good jab of her thumb into your clit timed with her cock hitting just right sent you spiraling into a squealing orgasm that was wracking your entire body.

Natasha was left startled when she found it hard to fuck you through it, growing slippery and soaking the sheets beneath the two of you as another orgasm crashed through you with her fingers still working you.

As the pleasure ebbed away into fuzzy content, Natasha collapsed over your back and breathing against you in a way that brought immense comfort, you slowly came back to yourself.

You nipped her fingers.

Natasha scoffed as she pulled them out, leaning down to give you kisses wherever she could reach. "I make you squirt like a fountain and you bite me?"

You rolled over so that her hands were forced to settle on your knees. The strap-on had been removed at some point in your daze and was thrown aside to be washed later.

"I am never letting you go," you announced, peering up at her with a dopy smile. "That was literally mind-shattering."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "At least you find me good for something." She helped you sit up. "Are you okay?"

"Did you just not hear me say mind-shattering? As in . . . orgasms?"

"Okay, smartass." She pinched your hip and was rewarded with a yelp as she pushed you to your feet. "To the bath with you. I'm changing the sheets and setting us up for vacation then calling Tony. Get a bath ready or else."

You smiled and leaned in the doorway to your bathroom, eyeing her. "You're so cute when you're determined."

"When it comes to the axis my world spins on," Natasha said, growing serious as she walked over to you and rested her forehead against yours, "nothing could pry me away from what I want."

[koolades-world]

have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!

i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!

this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3

birthmarks

"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.

"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.

"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.

"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.

"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.

"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.

"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.

"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.

"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.

"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.

"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.

"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."

You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.

"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.

"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.

"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.

"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.

"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.

"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.

"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."

"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.

"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.

"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.

"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.

"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.

"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.

Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"