#the full on looking at the floor and blush in childish things

[gavisuntiedboot]

Centimeters

Gavi x physiotherapist! Reader

A/N: no one asked for this but lord have mercy the photos from today had me heavy breathing

“Gavi, remember to behave yourself.”

“But I haven’t even-“

Ansu put a finger to his lips, eradicating whatever the end of that sentence was going to be.

“We’re about to go in for medical exams and the doctor is your girlfriend. Now I know you’re still pumped full of all your raging teenage hormones-“

“Ansu!”

“-but please, hermano. There cameras literally everywhere. So I’m begging you: behave.”

Gavi crossed his arms over his bare chest, pouting slightly at being scolded in front of the other boys. It was no secret that he was madly in love with his physiotherapist/girlfriend, but it never deterred the boys from teasing him incessantly. His injury over the last year had made things tough. She was at training more than he was, coming home with stories about practice drills and player banter that made his chest pang. He shook the thoughts from his head as he was called in to have his measurements taken.

Gavi shuffled into the room, white socks gliding against the floor. He fiddled with the bandage on his arm from the blood draw. He wished for a second that he could be childish, pull he is girl away from all her responsibilities and have a hand to hold while someone stabbed him with a needle. But he knew that now, close to graduating from her program and becoming lead physio, his girl was running the entire operation. So he was happy to just stand there, wide eyed and slack jawed watching his perfect girlfriend concentrate on something flashed across a computer screen.

Eventually, she felt a searing gaze burn holes into the dip of her back, and turned around to see her shirtless boyfriend biting his lip and smiling like an idiot. She suppressed her own grin, grabbing his file and her clipboard.

“Mr. Gavira - ready to be examined?”

There was a playfulness in her voice that, when mixed with her raised eyebrow and overwhelming stare, made Pablo blush.

“Of course, doctora. And please, take your time. Absolutely no need to rush.”

There was a light giggle bouncing around the room before she sat Pablo down, blood pressure cuff tight on his arm. Her fingers grazed his bicep, lingering longer than would be appropriate for any other player.

“Those scrubs look great on you, doctora.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t pick them out for me this morning, Pablo. Uncross your feet so that I can get a proper reading of your blood pressure.”

He spread his legs in the chair, shorts riding up his muscular thighs. He sat back in the chair, getting lost in watching his favorite person in the world fiddle with a blood pressure cuff.

“Any other players give you complements on the scrubs?”

“No Pablo - there is no one on this team suicidal enough to flirt with me or pay me a compliment while you’re here. Poor Lamine was scared to take off his shirt. He kept looking around expecting you to walk in.”

You tapped him on the arm, instructing him to stand for his height and weight measurement. He stood on the mark, and as she adjusted the piece above his head, he couldn’t help himself from wrapping an arm around her waist. He pulled her into himself, planting a quick kiss to her temple before she should pull away.

“Gavi!”

“What?”

“We’re at work!”

“Come on - no one is going to scold me. I’m poor Gavi with the bad knee.” He finished his sentence with a pout, big puppy dog eyes making him look younger than his already mere 19 years.

“Yes yes, poor little Gavi and his busted knee. I, however, am not an asset to club or country. Hansi will scold me in three languages if we get caught making out in here.

“Wait,” he turned his head swiftly, arms back around her waist. “Making out is an option?? Why didn’t you tell me.” His laughter disguised the sound of her lightly smacking his chest. She grabbed her clipboard again, and placed the metal piece gently on his head.

“173 cm. Tsk tsk Pablo - still as small as last year.”

He smiled at his girl, amusement painting his every feature.

“I don’t remember size ever being an issue for you, doctora. I’m still taller than you.”

“By like 10 cm. That’s not a lot.”

She took down his weight, and then grabbed the tape measure to start assessing specific areas of his body.

“Of course you would say 10 cm is not a lot. Since you’re used to 15 cm daily.” He earned another smack to the chest.

“Pablo!”

“Or maybe it’s 20? Maybe we should find out since you already have the measuring tape ready.” He suggested while his fingers played with the waistband of his shorts. She grabbed his wrist in fear, terrified of what Gavi was willing to do in a close room.

He laughed loudly, bringing both hands to cup his girl’s face. He felt the warmth of her cheeks on his palms, and her flustered state gave him a squeezing feeling in his chest. He brought his forehead to hers, waiting until she met his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to whip it out here in the medical room. No matter how much you may want it.”

She laughed gladly, fears subsiding and chest feeling lighter after Gavi’s light touch. She grabbed the measuring tape and began. She started with his neck, saying her measurements out loud before jotting them down on the form.

“Chest is 94 cm. Bigger than last year.”

Her fingers traced downwards, leaving heat on Gavi’s skin as they got to his hips.

“Hips are 81.5. Same as last year.”

Next, she traced across his collar bone and down his arm, tapping to silently tell him to flex his bicep.

“Biceps are- holy.”

“That’s not a number, preciosa.”

“Biceps are 43 cm. Ehem, bigger than last year. By a lot.”

The doctor tried to stabilize her slight tremble as she wrote down the measurements. She tried to calm herself, but something about Gavi’s new, fuller physique was making professionalism almost impossible. Gavi, the little shit, flexed his biceps again, pleased with the reaction he could evoke.

“Lift up your shorts, Gavi.”

“Don’t you mean pull down?”

“Are you okay, Pablo? You’re hornier than usual today. Do I need to get a spray bottle?”

“Surgeon called me today and cleared me for more vigorous activities. Want to help me follow the doctor’s orders?”

She got on her knees, wrapping the tape measure around his thigh.

“Thighs are 61 cm. Smaller than last year. You’ll need to work on that.”

“I had my ACL repaired.”

“Pshh excuses excuses.”

She finished her measurements, taking other important vitals and making sure to ask him all the medical clearance questions.

“What time are you finished today, Pablo?”

“2 pm. They don’t want us out for too long in the heat. How many guys are left?”

“About 6. I’ll probably be done before you, so I can go home and make lunch.”

He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into him.

“No no, wait for me. We’ll leave together and go get food. You’ve had a hard day, let me treat you.”

“Every day is a hard day at work.”

He kept one arm around your shoulders as you walked him to the door.

“Then I’ll treat you every day. See you later, princesa.”

He hugged you into his side, and scampered off to the practice field. Neither Gavi nor his lady noticed the social media intern in the hall, who was quick to snap a picture of your embrace. The image of Gavi hugging his physiotherapist into his side and smiling from ear to ear set the internet into a flurry of comments.

New post from fcbarcelona: strong bonds between our players and medical staff 🫶

~~~

Hey do you think this is a cute dynamic? Wish you could read more about gavi x physiotherapist? Well you’re in luck! I have a ten part series of their love story in my master list!

Guys I love him so much. Anyways, like, comment, reblog, and check out the fundraiser in my pinned!! Love yall <3

[a-hazbin-reader]

could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!

I guess I gotta- 🥵

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention

He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it

Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time

He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him

He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves

After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak

Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???

Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention

"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."

He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them

"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"

Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye

"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"

The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs

"I guess he had other things to do~"

You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers

"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."

You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down

He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner

"Alastor, are you even listening?"

"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"

He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention

Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand

You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him

"Alastor, that was rude..."

He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic

"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"

It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious

It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch

"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"

He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again

"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"

He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips

"It will be if you keep injuring people~"

And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you

You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best

When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body

"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"

He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in

You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation

"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."

You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance

"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"

He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend

You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-

"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"

It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it

The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head

"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form

You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this

"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."

He's so cute when he's jealous

"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"

Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart

"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"

He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face

You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss

"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"

He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together

"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"

You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner

"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"

You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss

"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"

I might go back and change this one a bit ngl

[jogetsobsessed]

"So domestic" - Paul Lahote x reader

Here's a sweet little blurb full of fluff I wrote last night before I went to sleep!

---------

Paul Lahote was madly in love with you. 

It was clear as day. 

Everyone could see it, people that you were just meeting for the first time and people that you had known your whole life. 

The imprint bond wasn't the only reason for his infatuation with you. 

Sure it was what originally drew him towards you, but every day since he has woken up more and more in love with you. 

He spent his time finding new things to love about you. 

The way that he looked at you oftentimes caused you to turn into a blushing mess. His hard exterior would melt away and his soft smile, which was reserved strictly for you would come out. 

No smugness or cockiness. Only pure love and admiration. 

Paul knew about your insecurities and tried his best to relieve them. 

If he caught you staring for yourself too long in the mirror, gawking at a particular spot for too long he would come up behind you and distract you with his touch. 

It was a simple gesture, and both of you knew that it was only a temporary fix to a lifelong problem. But it didn't matter, because Paul was going to be by your side for the rest of your natural life to provide the temporary fix that you needed. 

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

Rolling over you were met with a cold, empty space on the other side of the bed. It wasn't necessarily ideal, but that meant you wouldn't be going to sleep alone tonight. Early morning patrol meant no late-night patrol. 

Your motivation to get out of bed was nowhere to be found, normally Paul was the first one out of bed and pulled you with him. But this morning he wasn't here, so you took some time staring up at the skylight that was right above your bed. 

It was your favorite part of Paul’s house, the skylights in almost every room upstairs and the beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows in the master.

The windows did not compare to the Cullen’s house by any means, but it was satisfactory. The bed was positioned to be under the skylight, it looked a little out of place when you walked in the room, but it didn't matter to either of you. 

Because the nights spent together, tangled beneath the sheets being able to stare up and gaze at the stars before you closed your eyes each night was the recipe for a perfect night's sleep. 

Eventually, you found the strength to get up, groaning as you sat up. Going through the motions of essentially waking the house up for the day. Making the bed and opening the blinds. 

Putting the dishes away you couldn't help but laugh. This was so domestic of you. Having just graduated high school less than a year ago you were performing housewife duties. 

You had a job, but it was just working with Emily at the small grocery store she and Sam owned. Everyone that you had gone to school with was off partying at college and waking up still drunk from the night before. But not you. 

That had been your plan at first, freshman year you couldn't wait for that freedom that a high school diploma offered. But that childish dream didn't last long. Because the summer before your sophomore year after getting your first-ever job at the grocery stand on the reservation you met a certain someone who changed the course of your life. 

So lost in your thoughts you don't notice the front door open and close and your boyfriend sneaks up behind you. 

His unnaturally warm hands brought you back to reality and you almost purred at the sudden warmth. 

“Sorry for leaving without telling you, I didn't want to wake you up, you looked so peaceful”, Paul reached around to pick up the glasses you had been drying off. He whisked around you, placing the cups on the shelf that he knew was just slightly out of your reach. The rest of the dishes were put away in silence, but it wasn't awkward, it was sweet. 

You finished with your stack before Paul finished with his because he was taking the time to organize your cups because he thought they were in disarray. 

That was something you loved about him. 

Paul wanted everyone to believe that he was the definition of masculinity. That he didn't care about certain things that might have been viewed or associated with femininity at any point. 

It was partially the way he was raised. He and his brothers were raised by a single father. The house he grew up in lacked a certain feminine touch a mother could provide. 

So when Paul grew up and got his own house and eventually moved you in he was fascinated with how you kept the house. 

It had taken some getting used to. Neither of you had ever lived with a partner before and it was Paul’s house that he had bought and insisted you move in with him the day you turned eighteen. It might have been his house but you felt like you had to house-train him. 

After some time he figured out that you liked organization, something that had never been important to him. 

So he took it upon himself to actively change his ways, eventually becoming overly insistent on the ways things were in the house. 

You watched as he moved cups over slightly, making sure that they were all spaced apart to his definition of perfection. 

This was a moment where you wish the rest of the pack was around, so they could see this side of Paul and not only the asshole-ish side of him that they normally got. But you would dare to bring it up to any of them, not even Emily for the sake of saving Paul the embarrassment. 

Finally, he was done, a satisfied sigh left his lips, his hands on his hips as he looked happily at the dang cups. 

The small chortled laugh that left your lips had Paul whipping around like a deer caught in headlights, which only had you laughing harder. 

Paul crossed the kitchen coming right up to you, his arms finding their way around your waist again, only this time he hoisted you up spinning you around while he matched your laughter. 

“ I love you so much Y/N”. 

Once your feet were on solid ground you pulled him in for a sweet kiss, knowing that this was going to work Paul up since he loved when you initiated any kind of romance. 

Before he could deepen it you slipped out of his hold laughing once again, but this time at his frustrated scoff. 

“Tease” 

“You love it when I tease you”

----------

[shitsndgiggs]

Could you make an arda güler fanfiction of this link please? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGenmK5V2/

I just think its very cute if the reader would be like there for arda and help him with his problems or something. Like maybe it could be about how Arda just feels lonely but energetic and a bit childish reader could cheer him up?? Can be a heartwarming and angsty fic? I also would like it if the reader would be turkish. Thank youu

SILENT LOVE - ARDA GÜLER

Love doesn’t always need to be spoken.

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over Ankara as I stepped into Arda’s apartment, my heart full of hope and concern.

I’d noticed the subtle signs of his struggle lately—his quiet demeanor, the way he would stare blankly at the soccer memorabilia scattered around his living room.

It pained me to see him so lost and withdrawn.

“Hey, Arda!” I called out cheerfully, trying to inject a bit of my usual energy into the room.

I couldn’t bear the thought of him being weighed down by his own thoughts without a bit of brightness to lift him up.

He looked up from the floor, where he was rolling a soccer ball back and forth with his foot.

There was a faint smile on his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey,” he replied, his voice soft and barely audible.

I bounced over to him, my excitement practically spilling over. “Guess what I brought you today!” I held up a bag of pastries from my favorite bakery.

The thought of sharing something sweet with him made me feel like I was doing something right.

Arda’s eyes flickered to the bag, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of interest. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know, but I wanted to,” I interrupted, grinning.

“I thought you could use a little treat. Plus, I know you’ve been having a tough time, so I figured this might help.”

I set the bag down and began unpacking the pastries. I handed him a warm chocolate croissant, the kind that melted in your mouth and made everything seem a little better.

Watching him take the pastry, I could see a brief moment of relaxation in his usually tense shoulders.

For the next while, I chattered away—about my day, a funny encounter on the street, the latest gossip from the neighborhood.

I was determined to fill the space with light, hoping that my energy might gently coax him out of his shell.

I could see Arda slowly beginning to engage, his quiet nods and soft smiles becoming a bit more frequent.

Despite my best efforts, there was a heavy silence that clung to the room, and it wasn’t lost on me. I could sense that he wanted to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

He’d always been more of an action person, showing his care through deeds rather than words.

Eventually, the conversation quieted, and a more serious note entered my voice. “Arda,” I said softly, making sure he looked directly at me.

“I know it’s not always easy for you to talk about what’s on your mind. But there’s something you should know.”

He looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What is it?”

“You’re amazing,” I said firmly, my eyes meeting his with sincerity. “I see how hard you work and how much you care. Even if things aren’t going the way you want right now, that doesn’t change how incredible you are.”

His gaze dropped, and a faint blush colored his cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion.

It was clear how difficult it was for him to accept such words, even though I knew he deeply appreciated them.

The silence that followed was thick but warm, filled with a quiet understanding. I knew Arda had a hard time expressing his feelings, and it wasn’t always easy for him to show vulnerability.

But he had a way of showing his care through thoughtful gestures.

In the weeks that followed, Arda made sure to show his appreciation in his own way. He fixed things around my apartment—leaky faucets, squeaky doors—without ever mentioning a word.

He cooked meals for me, making sure I always had something comforting after a long day.

His acts of service spoke volumes about how much he valued me and our relationship.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day for me, Arda arrived with a carefully wrapped gift.

My heart fluttered with curiosity as I opened it to reveal a beautiful leather journal. Inside, there was a note written in his neat handwriting:

"I might not always find the right words, but I hope this helps you remember that I’m here for you. Thank you for always being there for me."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read his note. It was a beautiful reminder that even though

Arda found it difficult to express himself verbally, he was always there through his actions. The journal was a symbol of his gratitude and affection—a testament to the bond we shared.

As I hugged him tightly, I felt a rare but genuine smile spread across his face.

It was as if he was finally allowing himself to feel the warmth of my support, even if he couldn’t always put it into words.

Love doesn’t always need to be spoken.

Sometimes, it can be found in the small, everyday actions, the silent gestures that spoke volumes.

And for us, that was enough.

[the-fiction-witch]

Say You Want Me Too

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 1311

A storm rages outside the tall stone walls of Dragonstone, the night sky as dark as obsidian, the sky full of heavy clouds lit only by the occasional sparks of lighting that flash across the sky, thunder often rumbling the bowels of the castle. Jacaerys sat in his chambers reading his high valerian study book in bed by candlelight, already dressed for bed often muttering words to himself,

“Se guēse's skoriot… skoriot… nektogon ilagon va se endia… tistālior…” He mutters to himself,

When suddenly a timid knock comes on his door,

"Enter!" the young prince said, expecting the maester or his younger brother perhaps.

Slowly the door creaks open and as he glances up he takes a double take to check he is indeed seeing what he thinks he is, as much to his surprise he sees his betrothal Y/n, in her small blue velvet slippers and sky blue silk nightie with silver embroidery. Her hair in a tight braid that falls around her shoulder, a candlestick in her hand. She closes the door and stands sheepishly, "I pray I am not disturbing you, my lord Velaryon,"

Jacaerys's mind was racing, His heart beat faster as he realised what this situation could entail, What reason could she have for coming here? This late? Is she in search of comfort? and the fact that Y/n was in such a state was causing certain, desires to arise. "No, my Lady, you are not disturbing me. What reason do you have to seek me out? Is something amiss?"

She slowly approached his bed but she stopped before getting too close, she trembled as she held her small candle almost forcing out her words, "Forgive me I do not wish to be any trouble,"

"You do not know the trouble you cause me my lady," he thought, "So, what brings you to my chambers this late at night?"

she blushed slightly her head tips down to the floor before she gathered the strength to meet his eyes once more, even if her eyes do flick down to him in his bed, "I do not mean to be trouble" she blushed, "forgive me, I am still... New to Dragonstone, and we do not get storms such as this back home... I admit, I am frightened." She explained "I know that must seem foolish to yourself my lord Velaryon, you have been here so long and... Ride the back of a dragon, and fight with sword and lance… I know the idea of rain and lightning in being fearful must seem childish,"

Jacaerys smiles as he sees his maiden blush. "No, no, do not you dare say that. There is nothing childish about feeling fear." He reaches his arms out for her. "Come, my lady, there is no need to be frightened when I am here I will protect you from anything, be it lightning or bandits or anything else that you may have to fear. But for now, you can get into my bed, I will not let anything come to hurt you.”

“Are you sure my lord?”

“I am, come on.” He smiled,

she blushed and set down her candle before she moved closer, she took his hands her skin soft in his rougher hands,

Jacaerys smiles and moves to make space to sit with her in his large bed. "Now, my lady, all you need to do is relax and close your eyes, and I promise I will protect you from anything that can harm you. I ask only one thing of you..." He smiled,

"thank you, my lord, you did not have to be so kind to me" she giggled feeling him so close, "what is it you ask my lord?" She asks squeezing his hands in hers,

Jacaerys chuckles, "There is nothing that I can ask of you that you do not already give me...But,” Jacaerys can hardly contain himself, he wants his little betrothal but he must remain composed. "Can I... Have a kiss, my lady?" He asks her, his words breathless as his heart beats harder.

She blushed at her betrothal’s request, her eyes flickering down to the bed a moment before she looked up and nodded moving and pressing her lips to his cheek, her lips soft and smooth her whole self smelled like honey, when she pulled back her face is red and she squeezed his hands, Jacaerys squeezes her hands his heart is pounding so fast he cannot hold still as he stares into her eyes. He can barely control himself,

"My lady..." He whispers to her, his voice shaking with intensity, "May I ask you for one last thing?"

"yes, Jacaerys?" she bats her eyes,

Jacaerys moves his hands to her cheeks, "May I ask... for a kiss… on the mouth?" He is almost trembling now, he cannot control himself. He wants this beauty so badly,

"Are you sure we are not yet married?" she began to tremble,

"We are betrothed my lady, we are to be married..." He said, "A kiss is not enough to ruin that, my lady." he smirked slightly “She is so sweet and innocent,” he thought of taking advantage of her crossed his mind, but he forced it away, "Please? Just one kiss..."

Y/n blushed even harder and squeezed his hands she nodded and shuffled closer she gently pressed her smooth lips to his own, her lips tasted of honey too, her taste and scent almost overwhelmed him as they shared the kiss their lips moved together a few times before a crack of thunder rumbles across the sky and lightning flashes through the chamber which makes her pull away and slightly squeak in fright,

He chuckled at her reaction and moved his hand to the small of her back, drawing her body closer to his enveloping her in his arms, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head keeping her close and safe, "By the gods..." he whispers to her, The thunder crackles louder and louder and she buries herself into his chest. He can feel her small frame pressed against him and his instincts are to hold her even tighter.

“I’m sorry I-”

“It’s alright, you're scared. But no need to fear I am right here my lady,”

“Thank you Jace,” but more thunder cracked which made her burrow into his chest in fear,

“Shhh shhh shh it’s okay, I’m here,” He cooed, after a while of quiet he looked down at her he felt the burning desire for the girl that would soon be his bride, how she cuddled him, how she looked in her sweet state and he knows he can’t hold back any longer, "I could never do without you. I need you, my lady".He growled kissing her head, "Please, say the words that will make me yours. I am ready for you".

"what? What are you talking about Jace?"

"I want you my lady... In more ways than one, more than anyone else could ever imagine." He pauses, his words almost catching in his throat. "I love you... and I want you, it is as simple as that."

"I see. I do love you Jace you have been nothing but kind to me since I arrived and I'm sure we shall have a long and happy marriage" She nodded

"But my lady, you do not understand..." he gasped, "You are all I ever wanted, but I want more than what you are telling me. I do not want to wait for marriage, I want it now, now that I have tasted your sweetness"...

"you want what my prince?"

"I want YOU." He says, with great passion and determination. "You, Y/n. Now. please… I beg you… say you want me too.”

“I… I do,” she blushed, “Very much,”

“Then let me make you forget this storm and make this a night we shall remember for the rest of our days,” He stroked her cheek and she nodded so he bit his lip a moment before he pulled her into a intense kiss. 

[kitthepurplepotato]

Shenanigans 14

Chapter 14 Part 1 / Fake it till you make it!

Summary: Y/N and Bakugou go on a mission, pretending to be a freshly married couple. It goes unexpectedly well.

Warnings: Swear words, pretend relationship, heavy flirting, suggestive

First Part Master List

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It took Bakugou a full 30 seconds to lose his shit.

30 full seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What the fuck were you thinking, you absolute moron?! That we will have two separate beds? In a deluxe room especially made for a freshly married couple?!” You try your best to not scream loudly at the stupid idiot standing next to you. His face is as red as a tomato and his body is trembling from all the pent up stress as he tries to explode the massive bed with his eyes.

“Shut the fuck, it is fucking obvious now, okay?!”

“Took you long enough, you dumb bitch!”

Okay, maybe… but just maybe, you are also freaking out right now. Just maybe.

“Call me a bitch again and I’ll make sure your mouth is stuffed until the rest of the FUCKING WEEK.” Katsuki hisses, his eyes full of anger. This guy will be in pieces by the end of this mission, that’s for sure; you have so many ideas on how to wind him up now that he can’t get too pissed at you for the sake of the mission. So many ideas. So… so many. Ahh, this week will be amazing.

“Buy me dinner first, will ya?” You retort with a shit eating smirk and it takes the hero a few moments to understand the hint. When the realization hits him he pales completely first then blushes like a high school boy. “Aww, are you a virgin? I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry, babe!” You really wanted to say this in a suggestive tone but you couldn’t help the giggles escaping your lips. He’s so fucking cute when he’s all winded up, goddamn it.

Mr. Dynamight did not appreciate your joke by the look of it, as the hero throws you on the bed in an aggressive but definitely sexual way and crawls up to you slowly while keeping your limbs and arms pinned into the soft mattress. You can feel your lower parts twitch as Katsuki moves closer to your neck, breathing heavily against it as his warm breath warms up your sensitive neck.

“Call me a fucking virgin again and I’ll make sure you can’t stand up for the rest of the day.”

“V…virgin.” You stutter, an absolute hot mess under the hero’s hold. Where is your dignity, woman?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

It took you five minutes to end up in this situation and you have 5 more days to go. Fuck.

“You are insufferable.” He mutters into your neck and moves away like nothing had happened. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before moving far away from the evil bed; you won’t be able to sleep a wink on this fucking thing after all this.

“Damn, husband well chosen.” You try to fake nonchalance by pretending to grin, but Katsuki only scoffs at your flushed face.

“V…Virgin.” He parrots with a shit eating grin, knowing he won this fight.

“Fuck you.” Well, that’s a childish retort, but your brain just got fried.

“You wish.” The blonde WINKS, and moves towards the back of the room when someone knocks on your hotel room door; you quickly put the hero’s disguise back before he opens the door for the intruder. And yes, you do wish. Khm.

“Welcome!” The staff member smiles, cheekily looking into the room for the second person. “Ahh, it must be nice to be freshly married, I was also unable to keep my hands away from my honey bun when we were on our honeymoon.” The old man stares at you with a dreamy face. “Oh, excuse me, I’m only here to bring your suitcases up! There’s a 24/7 restaurant on the first floor, but you can also order food into your room by using the phone on the right side of your bed!” The man brings the two suitcases into the room. “There is also a small convenience store just outside the building in case you ran out of necessities!” The old man winks at your fake husband and retreats, leaving nothing but awkward silence in the room as the door closes behind him.

After a few seconds you both burst out laughing. Hysterically.

“Honey bun, he said!” You cry, tears falling down your cheeks from all the laughter.

“Don’t laugh, sweet pea, he’s in love!” Katsuki mock-coos at you, making you laugh even harder.

“Oh my god, stop this shenanigan, I can’t cope! Who would say that?!” You giggle, trying your best to breathe.

“Deku, probably.” Bakugou snickers with another shit-eating grin on his face.

“Burnnnnn!” You giggle some more but your breathing evens out eventually. “This was fun, we should do this more often.”

“Me pining you to the bed or laughing our asses off at a poor little man?” Bakugou gives you a questioning glare, his eyes full of mischief.

“Honestly? Both.” You grin.

“You are such a flirt, Y/N.” The hero rolls his eyes, slowly making his way to the dresser to unpack his clothing for the week.

“Wow, you said my actual name.” You smile to yourself, lost in your thoughts for a second.

“Fuck you.” Is all the answer you get.

“You wish.” You strike back with his own words from before, which only makes the blonde laugh again.

You could get used to this; this bantering, like you’ve known each other for ages, to the the way you two just go back to your friendly bickering so easily after a moment full of passion. You two click so well together in a really weird way, it’s really hard to describe it but being around the blonde feels like home; even when life goes to shit, even when things get heated and you end up hating each other for a few seconds you are always welcome back when you need it, because that’s what home is; a place where you always have a place, where you belong, where you are loved and supported with all your flaws and stupid shenanigans.

With Katsuki, you can just be yourself and you really fucking love that.

“Hey, potty mouth.”

“Hm?”

“I hope this week never ends.”

“Jesus, that sounds like my worst nightmare.” The hero makes a scared face but he can’t hide the small smile on his lips as he puts his shirts into the top drawer of the dresser.

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The first day went by quickly; you didn’t really leave the hotel room but rather concentrated on packing out instead; after you both got rid of the tension between you by joking around, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Things got heated again by the time the sun went down and it was time to sleep.

With that said…

“Don’t be an idiot, this bed is massive, we can absolutely sleep on it without touching.” You look at the dumb, freshly showered blonde. The above mentioned blonde only pouts and moves his stupid little ass towards the small sofa on the other side of the room.

“Yeah, I highly doubt that after seeing you touching the shit out of me while half asleep back when you ended up in my flat.” The hero rolls his eyes and makes himself ‘comfortable’ on the stupidly small sofa. It hurts to even look at him in that position; his legs are literally dangling in the air.

“I had a fever!” You retort, staring at him from the comfortable (and evil) bed. “I think you are just scared to share a bed with a woman, KACCHAN.”

Needless to say, that did it for the blonde.

“I ain’t no pussy.” The blonde stands up and plops down on the other side of the bed, as far away from you as physically possible. You don’t say anything just roll to your other side to give the hero the space he needs and enjoy the company as you slowly fall asleep.

You wake up in the middle of the night to a rustle next to you. The blonde tosses and turns, then suddenly takes a huge breath, like he’s waking up from a nightmare.

“Fuck.” Bakugou whimpers helplessly and rolls closer to you on the bed; you can feel his warmth on your back which sends shivers down your spine but you continue faking being asleep for the sake of the other. Bakugo pushes his forehead between your shoulder blades while he takes another deep breath, his arm snaking around you to pull you close for only a second before he rolls back to the other side of the bed.

Your heart does a massive flip which makes you feel nauseous; you want to roll to your other side and embrace him, soothe him, kiss him until he forgets about his terrible dream, whatever it was about; but even thought the urge is strong, you stay on your side while you listen to the blonde taking a few more deep breaths before his breathing finally evens out.

You stare into the darkness for a few minutes… or rather hours before your heart rate manages to go back to normal.

You are indeed in love with this madman. Love with a capital L. You are not even going to bother to lie to yourself anymore; the pain in your chest is a good enough reminder anyway.

By the time you wake up the next day, Katsuki is gone; he comes in after a few minutes with a tray full of different kind of breakfast foods and sits down in his side of the bed like last night has never happened.

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After the second night, sharing a bed with Bakugou isn’t as awkward anymore. You two went out a bit yesterday to snoop around the kitchen area then talked about nothing in particular while sitting in the lobby, listening to everyone’s chatter to gain intel. The day was unsuccessful but it was nice to be able to talk to the hero without being screamed at for no reason.

As soon as the blonde wakes up the next day he starts to murmur about random things, talking to no one in particular until you wake up and start to listen to his monologue.

Apparently it took Bakugou two days until he got completely fed up with restaurant food.

You knew the hero is an absolute beast in the kitchen and that he doesn’t hate cooking but you didn’t know how much the blonde needs to be able to cook to to stay sane.

“It just… calms me down, you know.” The blonde says when you ask him about his cooking after his massive bitch fit, still in bed. “I love being able to create something that fits perfectly with my taste buds. My favorite part is preparing the dish though, I can zone out and forget about all the shitty stuff while I murder a potato.”

“Wow, harsh.” You giggle, but you can’t ignore the longing in the blonde’s voice. “Do you miss being home alone?”

“Are you dumb? I’m talking about cooking.” The man grumbles with a flushed face. “I just need to find something else to focus on, otherwise I’ll loose my shit.”

“I have some ideas how to turn your focus to something else.” You grin at the grumpy blonde but you don’t move from your side of the bed to not make Katsuki completely uncomfortable. It’s just a joke anyway, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Well, thanks fucking much but I don’t do one night stands. Too old for that shit.”

“It was a joke, jeez.” You roll your eyes with a flushed cheek. “I don’t do that kind of thing either. I told you all about it on the wedding.” You remind him with a mischievous grin as the blonde looks away shyly, remembering your almost first kiss.

“Can you not remind me of that while sharing a bed with me? It’s already awkward enough.” The hero rolls out of the bed, making his way to the bathroom. Thankfully, he takes all the tension with him as well, letting you breathe properly for the first time today. You didn’t even realize the effect he had on you until he left the room.

You really want to talk to him about this, but you know it will just end up with a rejection so you decide against it; if you can prolong this for a few more weeks until you go back home and cry your eyes out in your own fucking bed in your own fucking country after leaving all of this behind… that would be nice. There is no way you can get out if this without a heartbreak, so you might as well just enjoy this until it lasts.

You also have a plan in your head to help Katsuki wind down, so you make your way down to the restaurant after putting your disguise back.

You might not be good enough to date the explosive hero, but you definitely are the best fake wife the world has ever seen.

… To be continued!

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Potato ramble:

- Sorry for the short chapter but I didn’t want to post the angsty part until I have the full thing written out and I’m still missing the last half chapter of this season. The angst will start in the next one though.

- I hope you liked the “sweet pea” reference! It’s a little something for the people who read my other series called “my weird roommate, Midoriya Izuku!”.

- I accidentally started to write an Aizawa x reader fix yesterday. I hope you guys will like it!

- I swear I have a job btw, I just use 95% of my free time to write. 😂

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! 💥🧡

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Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos @gold24fish @hanatsuki-hime

[stationlimbo]

7 Days of Halloween

Have you ever loved someone? “Love” is a funny word, it can be used in such beautiful ways but it can also be twisted into ways you can’t imagine. Many people can fall in love but love isn’t what’s described in story books for children. It’s cruel and unforgiving as much as it’s gentle and full of passion.

I have also once loved someone. My story with him is one of joy and sunshines.

October 24 1996, 7 days before halloween.

Day 1: Cupid's arrow.

“Y/N” I turned my head at the call of my name, there he was the love of my life, sean. “Hi sean!” I say a smile graced my face in his presence. “I was wondering would you like to be my date for the halloween dance?” he asked, he had a light blush coating his cheeks. I can feel my face heat up “Would I? Of course!”I felt as if my heart might jump out of my chest. He beamed “Great! We still have time before the dance so we can make our costumes” he added “how about we meet up at my house to make them?”. “Sure!” I replied my face was full of smiles.

Day 2: The costume

“Wooow” she said, “your house is amazing!”. Sean chuckled at her antics, “it's just a normal looking living room, nothing special”. Y/n still looked around in interest, there was a lovely 2 piece light yellow couch with an oak coffee table in the middle. Pictures of Sean when he was young littered the walls. “What do you want us to match as?” he asked, Y/n snapped out of her daze and replied quickly “I was hoping we could be cinderella and prince charming?”. Her voice got quieter as she finished. “Sure!” at his answer she could feel relief taking over her, ‘thankfully he didn’t think I was childish’.

Day 3: Preparations

Y/n and Sean walked together to the fabric store downtown. Sean had a relaxed smile on his face while Holly had a light blush peppered on her cheeks. “We just need a few feet of fabric to make the base since my mom has some fabric at home,” Sean said, as they entered the store. A light jingle sounded out from the door, warm air rushed to them and there was a light smell of pumpkin spice in the air. “Alright, we just need to make a simpler version of dress and suit with only the main colors at least!” Holly said. Sean nodded his head as they went to pick out the fabric.

Day 4: The dress and suit

“Honestly I can’t believe you did this!” Y/n exclaimed with excitement, joy present on her face. She was holding a light blue dress with puffy sleeves, “it's wonderful! I never knew you’d be so good at sewing!” she said a wide grin on her face as she looked over at him. Sean smiled warmly at her, “my mom just taught me a few tricks here and there, nothing special”. “Well I for one think it's special! Plus this saves us so much time!” She sat back down on the floor while holding the dress. He chuckled “well I suppose so at least we’ll be done soon”. Y/n beamed at him and quickly went back to work, Sean looked at her with a warm glint in his eyes.

Day 5: An old enemy

As the bell rang for the first time signaling the end of school, Y/n packed her bag and walked to the door until she was stopped. “So I heard from a little birdie of mine that you were dressing as a princess of all things?” The said voice belonged to the one and only Nathen, Y/n's bully back in middle school. “Yeah so what about it?” she replied back with annoyance laced in her words. “Well now princess, I have not thing against it but don’t you think it’s a bit childish?” he said. Now she was fuming, while the two bicker back and forth they didn’t seem to notice a crumpled piece of paper outside the door as a figure walked away.

Day 6: ???

Drip. Drip. Drip. A strong metallic scent was all over the room, “p-please why are you doing this?!” a voice screamed out, it was horse and weak. “Why of course for my love” The figure said. Then there was silence, it was dark with a single light bulb hanging above, as it luminated a young boy. Dark red covered the walls and someone who was like a flame was put out.

Day 7: HALLOWEEN

“Man! That was so fun!” Y/n shouted with passion, as she walked with Sean back to his house. He laughed with her as she rambled about the dance. When they entered the house Sean offered to get her some snacks, which she of course accepted. While she waited a strange scent appeared. It smelled metallic, a smell that wasn’t there before when she visited. Perhaps curiosity got the better of her as she walked to where it was coming from. Y/n walked down the stairs to the basement, she had turned on the light from the upstairs beforehand. As she walked the smell only got stronger, her hair all stood up as a bad feeling grew in her gut. Then she saw it, a mangled corpse, a familiar mangled corpse. “N-nathan?” she stuttered out, “well now you're not supposed to be down here.” Then everything went dark.

7 days of halloween.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

Peter 3 likes to be a jerk, so he'd tell Gwen to use her new nails on Peter 1! Peter 3 would just hold his arms out of the way for her! I had a small sentence starter idea!

"You've gotta show him your new nails..."

Ler!gwen and ler!peter3 with lee!peter1

(Ahhhhhhhhhh! IloveitIloveitIloveitIloveIloveit! Literally thinking the same thing! 😭 Thank you Anon!)

"You've gotta show him your new nails."

One looked up as Three and Gwen walked into the living room. "What's up?"

"Gwen got her nails done and I want her to show them to you."

One froze. "Is---is it the sahame shohowing she dohoes toho yohou?"

Gwen positively grinned. "You know about it."

One blushed. "Uhum . . . M-mahaybe?"

"He'll love them," Three teased.

The blush on One's cheeks darkened. "Hehey!"

Gwen knelt down on the floor next to Peter 1. "Do you want to see them?"

The youngest squeaked then nodded.

Three's girlfriend beamed as she opened up her arms. The youngest hurried over and curled up in her lap.

As soon as he was comfy, Gwen's hand slipped under his shirt. "Ready?"

One giggled uncontrollably as he nodded. Then he squealed when her nails began to slide across his tummy. The smooth nails glided up, down, and all around Peter 1's stomach.

And Peter 1 loved it.

Peter 3 knelt on One's other side. "Awww, wook at youw."

"Isn't he precious?"

"Nahat prehecious."

"No getting out of it bud," Three teased while booping the youngest's nose. "Like Two says, you're the baby of our bunch so you're the most precious."

The grin on One's face hurt. "Guehess thahats ohokahay."

The other two cooed at him, causing his blush to spread up to his ears. He quickly hid his face in Gwen's shoulder.

"Awww, he's fwustewed."

"You get that way too when I do it to you."

"Hey!"

One laughed, but it was broken off by another squeal when Gwen slipped a nail into his belly button. He had to ball his hands into fists to keep them from grabbing at Gwen's wrists.

"I wonder how many giggles are hiding at the bottom of this cute little giggle button."

One's laughter picked up and he wrapped his arms around Gwen's neck.

"Aww, he's so giggly he can't keep his arms down," Three cooed.

"Well maybe he can still answer my question then," Gwen teased while returning to the gentle scratches. "Do you like my nails Peter 1?"

The youngest nodded.

He refused to come out of hiding because he knew the other two would tease him for the red color on his face. "Thehehyre soho smohohoth."

"Thank you. My nail tech is amazing."

One nodded again.

"You must really like them if you can't even show your face," Gwen cooed while running one finger up and down the center of his abs.

The youngest's squirming picked up as he buried his face deeper into Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen chuckled and teasingly patted his tummy. "Is it all full from tickles?"

The youngest moved his head so he could look up at Gwen. He was blushing hard from the childish treatment, but he wasn't ready to stop. So he smiled at Gwen and shook his head.

Gwen grinned. "Really? Your tummy wants more tickles?"

"You've started something babe," Three chuckled as he moved closer. "He won't be ready to stop until he's falling asleep in your arms."

"Awww!" Gwen cooed. "I can live with that."

So she kept gliding her nails back and forth until Peter 1 was completely tuckered out and fell asleep in her arms.

"What did I tell you?" Three whispered before placing a kiss on the youngest's forehead. "All tuckered out.

"I don't mind," Gwen whispered back as she adjusted her hold on the youngest. "I love him."

Three shifted forward. "As much as you love me?"

"He might have you beat," Gwen teased.

"Rude," Three scoffed as he titled his body forward.

Gwen moved closer to until their noses were touching. "Maybe it's a tie."

Three's retort disappeared when she kissed his lips.

[eruden-writes]

Raksha and Cordelia there’s only one bed?

This kind of applies to a scene later down the road. XD

But I wrote something entirely different, so enjoy!

Cordelia stood in Rakash’s quarters, staring at his work desk and shelving, full of bits and bobs. Following the wall, her attention landed on the staircase that led to a mezzanine-esque overhang, where his more private area sat. Heat razed up her back at the thought. Briefly, she considered retreating and actually sleeping on the floor. Or perhaps going to wake the triplets from where they had fallen asleep in the cot, Cordelia’s usual sleeping spot.

“This is not a good idea,” she mumbled just as Rakash entered his room after putting dinner in the ice box. 

“Why not?” He tilted his head, long ears twitch and his bi-sected tail twitching behind him. Part of him already knew what Cordelia was about to say. To say he didn’t share some of the same apprehension would have been a lie. But it was better to play dumb than acknowledge the mutual… issue.

“It’s just… well…” Cordelia pressed her lips tightly together, quieting her rambling. Her eyes flickered to Rakash, frustrated to find such an unflappable expression on his features. Fending off concerns of her own childishness, she crossed her arms and leaned into haughtiness, “You’re just too big. I’m sure there’s absolutely no room for me in your bed. I will feel like a sardine.” 

“Then you can lay on top of me.” It took all of Rakash’s self-restraint to maintain a steady expression. A teasing - dangerously flirtatious - grin threatened to part his lips.

“That’s not the only problem!” Cordelia fought down the heat climbing up her cheeks. Her mind raced for another excuse, her fingers digging into her arms. “Your bed probably stinks of you. And I don’t want to be tainted by your stench.” 

“You would rather sleep on the floor than share a bed with me?” 

He had her there. The floor certainly was not as inviting as his bed, with a built in warmer like Rakash himself. Cordelia’s mouth snapped shut and she looked away from him. Her barely tamped down blush flared to the surface, burning her cheeks. In her chest, her traitorous heart fluttered like a crazed bird. 

“I am too tired to argue,” Rakash finally said after waiting for a moment for Cordelia’s reply. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he ascended the stairs to the more private area of his quarters. If she followed, she followed. If not, she knew the options available.

Not too long afterward, the sound of Cordelia following after him caught Rakash’s attention. He half-turned, already stripped to a securely tucked loincloth for sleeping. “Decided to join me?”

Cordelia paused at the top of the stairs, eyes wide as she spotted him. And there was quite a lot to spot, she realized. He was wearing far less than she’d ever seen him wear. Her eyes trailed over his muscles, the curve of his pecs and biceps and thighs, his bare sturdy abdomen. The fur that started at the back of his shoulders, down his arms, down his legs. Her attention lingered half-a-second longer at the bulge slung in his tucked loincloth, before she remembered herself and tore her attention away. Despite having waited for her flush to die down, it ricocheted back over her face, reaching her ears. 

Turning away from Rakash, she meandered over to the bed. It was a simple thing, likely made by the troll father himself. The only thing that really differentiated it from any inn bed she slept in was its overly large size.

There was plenty of space, but there wasn't enough space to sleep next to Rakash in, as far as Cordelia was concerned. “Still going to be a tight fit.”

“Is this still about the bed or something else now?” A chuckle escaped Rakash, feeling his own steely restraint slipping. It was difficult to fight against, knowing how bashful Cordelia became when sincerely flustered. 

Cordelia spun so fast, her hair flared out behind her. Her wide eyes angry, even as the blush burned even hotter on her cheeks. With her eyes narrowing, she hissed, “What else would this be about?”

Silence strung out between them. Rakash debated on teasing Cordelia further while she leered, just daring him to continue down this route. He licked his lips, before speaking again, “Humans are small compared to trolls, so-” 

Rakash didn’t get a chance to finish as a pillow whumped against his face. 

“Lech,” Cordelia snapped, turning away from him to climb into the bed. She was already dressed simply, in a tunic and underthings, so removing anything seemed unnecessary. Much more so, considering what her bedmate just said.

As she loudly snuggled under the blankets and into the pillows, Rakash chuckled again, making tingles spark down her spine. He put out the lanterns before climbing into bed as well. Though he teased her, his own brand of apprehensive tension strung through him. He hadn’t shared a bed with another adult since his late wife, let alone with a woman. 

That thought made disconcerting sensations ripple through Rakash. He settled onto the far side of the bed, rolling his back to Cordelia as she did the same. It wasn’t long before she shifted, tossing and turning, huffing with agitation.

After ten minutes of attempting to sleep, Rakash sighed and rolled to face the floundering Cordelia. “What’s the matter?” 

“I can feel your body heat,” she groused, belly down on the mattress and face pressed into the pillow.

“So?” 

Peering up from the pillow, she glared at Rakash’s silhouette in the dark, knowing he could see her better with his dark sight. “It’s distracting.” 

“I see.” A beat of silence followed his insipid comment, before Cordelia felt his arm loop around her. 

He tugged her close to his front as she flailed and rolled to face him. Her hands pushed against his chest as her legs squirmed against him, trying to wriggle free without accidentally landing a knee somewhere sensitive. “Rakash, let go!” 

“I will when you settle down,” he replied, his arm neither loosening nor tightening around her midsection. Shamefully, part of him enjoyed how she moved against him. Even with her clothing in the way, he could sense her warmth and softness. It taunted some long-buried part of him. However, he clung to sensibility. “We’re both adults. We can handle this calmly.” 

His words made Cordelia’s struggles fall still. Her fingers curled against his chest as her legs ceased their shifting.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She muttered, curling against Rakash. One of her legs shifted between his as her other looped around his hip. Even as she pressed her face to his chest, hiding it, he could feel the heat from her blush licking at his skin. “We’re both adults and adults have needs and desires. And those can complicate things.”

“True.” Rakash’s arm loosened its hold, testing to see if Cordelia would suddenly spring back with fervor. When she didn’t, his hand traced down her back. He couldn’t help but laugh a little as he teased, “You are certainly making things hard, considering where your thigh is right now.” 

There was a moment as her legs tightened around his leg, not helping his ‘hard’ situation in the slightest. “Shut up.” 

Rakash hummed, thoughts lazing between two options: sleep or pushing the situation further. The responsible part of him knew getting rest was the better option. What Cordelia had said was true; needs and desires could complicate situations. Still, her soft body pressed against him, her thigh moving minutely against his bulge as her fingers toyed with the fur at his hips… it was all tempting. 

Was he ready to fall to that temptation? Something in him twinged at the thought, especially as he remembered Cordelia wasn’t always going to be there. She was a temporary fixture in his household. Fighting against his growing allure, Rakash grudgingly asked, “Will you go to sleep if I am quiet?” 

For a long beat, Cordelia remained silent. Her own thoughts mirrored Rakash’s to some degree. Temptation and desire and want versus what was best for their situation. He didn’t need her. He didn’t even truly want her. They were simply two adults caring for three little trollings until the thaw. 

Those thoughts chilled the heat simmering in her. Cordelia swallowed, trying to shoo away all unhappy sensations and enticement as she mumbled, “Yes, just shush.” 

Rakash hummed in reply, but said no more. The two of them laid in bed, wrought with a confusing litany of emotions that both stoked and chilled the heat at their centers. In the end, they both eventually fell asleep, though they remained wrapped up in one another the entire night.

[gastricpierrot]

Title: Fallen Leaves, Adrift

Series: Genshin Impact

Relationship: TomoKazu, KazuGorou

Rating: T

Summary:

He sprints down the endless flights of stairs, into the streets. Rain pelts against his skin. He can’t breathe. He needs to keep running. He can’t be caught, can’t let them drag him back and snatch this one thing away from him.

But where can he go? Where can he hide? Who would help him and what can he do alone? He does not even have a god to pray to. The god of his homeland now wants him dead for treason.

Also on AO3 

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Under the moonlight, Tomo’s hair looks silver.

Kazuha lies transfixed, unable to tear his gaze away from the man before him. A few cups of sake and a series of playful nudges had led to this, Kazuha on his back on the floor of their measly accommodation and Tomo above him, their faces mere inches apart.

Tomo speaks his name, quiet and fond. Kazuha. Not the usual drawling “Kazu” nor the ever-teasing “young master”. Kazuha.

Kazuha reaches up and cups his Tomo’s cheek with his palm, his thumb brushing over the corner of the scar across the bridge of his nose. Tomo takes a deep breath, a slight knit forming between his brows while the faintest of smiles remains on his lips.

Kazuha’s heart wrenches the longer he beholds him. Surely there’s no reason for him to wear such an expression? This isn’t the first time Kazuha has reciprocated his touch with equal intimacy, treading beyond the blurry lines of their friendship. Tomo knows that Kazuha, despite his unyielding shyness to openly admit it, feels a similar attraction towards him—yet why? Why must the tenderness in his eyes be tampered by a sorrow that Kazuha cannot comprehend?

It dawns on Kazuha all at once the moment they kiss. Tomo says nothing yet Kazuha senses it deep in his core, that this will be the final night they will spend together. A separation he knew would come sooner or later, already written in the stars the moment they met.

Don’t go, he wants to say but could not. After all, they are both wanderers to begin with; what right does he have to hold Tomo back if he has resolved to go? It has always been an unspoken agreement between them. They shall stay together as long as they wished, and they too shall leave whenever they please.

And if their paths were meant to cross once more, they will.

Yet Kazuha finds tears welling in his eyes, his breath catching in his throat at the mere notion of it. It’s such a childish thing, to be making such a fuss over matters like this at his age. Tomo stares at him stunned for a heartbeat before laughing gently, despite likely aware that Kazuha has already understood his intentions.

“Was my kiss really that bad?” he asks, a bit of genuine hurt in his voice and no, it was perfect, Kazuha desperately wants to tell him past the stupid lump forming in his chest. It was perfect and wonderful and he’s been wanting it for so long. Wanting him for so long.

But what leaves his mouth is merely a choked, “Idiot.”

Kazuha sniffs hard to clear his nose, loud and undignified as he gives Tomo a half-hearted shove on his shoulder. Tomo laughs his carefree, boisterous guffaws, rolling aside and settling next to Kazuha.

“Kazuuuu,” he says with that habitual sing-song tone of his, his gaze at peace and full of wonder once he calms down again. “How are you so pretty even when half your face is covered in snot?”

Kazuha wipes his face with the back of his hand before turning to lie on his side as well, shooting his companion a wry smile. “I don’t feel like that’s the compliment it’s supposed to be?”

“But it’s true, though!” Tomo argues, a faint blush warming his cheeks. Kazuha still doubts he’s drunk at this point; Tomo’s alcohol tolerance has always been better than this. “Everything about you is beautiful, you know that? Your face, your poems, your swordsmanship...”

He reaches towards Kazuha, the beads of his bracelet clicking softly against one another as he caresses the outline of his cheek with the joint of his fingers. “Everything,” he says, breathless.

Kazuha brings Tomo’s hand closer, lightly resting his calloused fingers against his forehead. Closes his eyes as if in silent prayer. “Flattery will only ever get you so far, my friend.”

Whoever may be listening, please watch over him, wherever he has decided to go.

“Kazuha,” Tomo calls, waiting until Kazuha is looking at him once more. All playfulness has faded from his demeanour, leaving only his pure, unadulterated affection for the man before him. “Just for tonight, can I have you?”

A bold, yet unnecessary request. If it’s for him, Kazuha would even pluck the stars from the skies, rob the moon of her shine. If it’s him, Kazuha would give him his everything and more, every bit of love he’s always carefully harboured deep in his heart.

Kazuha leans forward, pressing a kiss onto Tomo’s palm and feeling him tense up ever so slightly under his touch.

“I’ll always be yours, Tomo.”

xXx

Heavy grey clouds gathered overhead on the day of Tomo’s duel.

Stupid, he’s so stupid. Kazuha sprints up the stairs, scarcely letting the guards stall him long enough for him to even take his next breath. He should’ve known that Tomo would do this. The signs had been there all along. His long, unusually pensive bouts of silence leading to his departure. His musings about the Musou no Hitotachi. His increasingly open affection for him.  

Kazuha’s lungs burn in his chest, adrenaline roaring in his ears. Blood soaks into his clothes from the wound on his back, though the pain feels dull and distant. Thunder rumbles above, the air all around him charged with electricity. Kazuha barely acknowledges the myriad of sensations, his mind focused solely on slashing and hacking his way even one step closer to where Tomo is, where he’s putting everything on the line in a battle before the throne.

The final wave of defence at the entrance of the arena is powerless to stop him; Kazuha pushes past them like a tempest, steel meeting steel in sharp, frantic strikes, gales whipping them back and out of his way. He shoves the heavy doors open, gasping for a breath and just about to brace himself—

And lightning strikes the spot just a few paces in front of him with a sickening, explosive crack. Kazuha is blinded first—deafened—and smells the scent of burnt flesh second. No, no. He blinks hard, willing his sight to return as dread fills his mouth in a rush of bile. No, Tomo can’t have lost. He can’t, he can’t—

He sees remnants of a scarlet haori, and the glimmer of a Vision’s crystal by his feet.

And the cold, cold eyes of an Archon who has surely gone mad.

Kazuha snatches up the Vision and runs faster than he has ever ran before.

There’s no time to think, no time to let it all sink in. Kazuha just knows that he can’t let the Shogun take this from him, never, never.

He sprints down the endless flights of stairs, into the streets. Rain pelts against his skin. He can’t breathe. He needs to keep running. He can’t be caught, can’t let them drag him back and snatch this one thing away from him.

But where can he go? Where can he hide? Who would help him and what can he do alone? He does not even have a god to pray to. The god of his homeland now wants him dead for treason.

Kazuha clutches Tomo’s Vision close to his chest, ignoring its searing heat against his palm. He can’t tell if there are footsteps hot in pursuit of him, or if it’s the relentless rain hitting the concrete roads. His body hurts, an inferno in his lungs—and still, he doesn’t dare slow down. He knows he would collapse the moment he breaks his pace, that he would be utterly crushed by his exhaustion, his injuries. His grief.

He slips, knee hitting the ground and sending bolts of pain all the way to his back. He grits his teeth, stumbles past the pain to keep going. He can’t stop here, not yet, not yet—

Hands circle around his arms and it feels like he could’ve screamed, thrashed, struggled like a cornered animal. Kazuha isn’t quite certain, at this point he finds it difficult to tell what exactly is happening. His senses are dulled by the rain, his clothes heavy and clinging onto his being. He bites down hard on his lip, hoping it would bring him some form of clarity—but the world turns dark just as the taste of iron bursts in his mouth, and all at once, Kazuha stops struggling.

…

He comes to with a gasp, wincing from the stabs of pain running through his entire body at his sudden movement.

Kazuha breaks out in sweat, tears welling up in his eyes of their own accord as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He's in a tatami room, tucked into a futon and unrestrained. For now, that’s a good sign. Bandages are wrapped neatly around his torso, his right hand.

His heart skips a beat. Tomo’s Vision—where is it? Was it taken from him while he was unconscious? He cranes his neck to search the room, hoping that it’s still here, somewhere—

And to his relief, he finds it on his scarf beside his own just next to his pillow, its now colourless gem glistening under the flickering candlelight.

Kazuha gingerly reaches for it, stares at it until he loses track of time. There isn’t a sound in his room, not from people outside, nor even the wind. Only the steady beat of his own heart.

He receives a visitor eventually, shoji panels sliding open before a blonde young man in a red jacket quietly slips in. Kazuha meets his gaze, nerves much calmer compared to when he first woke up. He does not sense any danger from the newcomer.

“I see that you’re awake,” the man says as he sets down a tray of steaming food on the low table by Kazuha’s bedside. “How are you feeling?”

Kazuha’s stomach rumbles at the sight of the dishes, finally remembering its need for sustenance. “Hungry, I suppose.”

His companion chuckles, taking a seat on the floor while Kazuha carefully sits up. “Of course, you've been out for a few days.”

Kazuha spends a moment studying him, noticing the familiar crests adorning his clothes. “I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Thoma,” Thoma says, pushing the table closer to Kazuha once he’s properly settled. Kazuha nods his thanks and picks up the pair of chopsticks. His bandaged hand feels stiff, unnatural.

“Did the Lord Commissioner send for me?” he asks as he spends a minute flexing his fingers, making sure he’s able to grip his utensils properly. Thoma does not seem surprised that Kazuha has managed to deduce his affiliations so quickly, though his hesitation to answer him is not something he hides well.

“It was Milord’s orders to assist you if necessary,” he clarifies eventually. He purses his lips, taking a moment before he adds, “But it... was also Tomo’s final request from us.”

Kazuha stills at the sound of the name. Tomo had a hand in this? Somehow, Kazuha couldn't completely put it past him, the fact that he would manage to stumble upon just the right ally in Narukami to entrust this wish. He wouldn’t have known about the Kaedehara clan’s past association with the Yashiro Commission, let alone the Kamisato clan itself. Tomo always did have good intuition, and once again, Kazuha has been saved by it.

He must’ve known then, that he was marching straight to his death when he challenged the Kujou tengu in that duel before the throne.

Kazuha exhales a slow breath. He abruptly realizes that he can’t seem to feel much past the strange, incessant emptiness within. As if part of him still insists on believing that this is all just temporary, that once everything calms down Tomo would just pop up again out of nowhere, making his apologies with his obnoxious laughter as if this is nothing but some accidental mess.

“I cannot stay for long,” Kazuha finds himself saying, all thoughts of Tomo gradually dissolving into static. It would bring the Yashiro Commission an abhorrent amount of trouble if he, a national fugitive, were to be found in any of its residences.

“Milord has already made preparations for your escape,” Thoma assures. “The sea is extremely rough as of late, so I’m afraid we can’t send you far—but until you fully recover from your wounds, you should be safe with the Resistance army at Watatsumi.”

Watatsumi Island. Truly a way off from home, and a place Kazuha had always wanted to visit, albeit definitely under better circumstances. Nevertheless, it is what it is. The people there worship a different god, which makes the island one of the only places in Inazuma where the Raiden Shogun’s influence isn’t as strong. It is undoubtedly the safest refuge Kazuha can go to for now, and he can’t help but marvel a bit at how Kamisato Ayato’s foresight remains impeccable as ever.

“Thank you, Thoma,” Kazuha says, holding Thoma’s gaze. “And to Lord Kamisato as well. I’m truly in your debt.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Thoma assures with a warm smile and a reassuring pat on Kazuha’s back, though Kazuha senses his underlying disquiet. Perhaps he has his own qualms about the Vision Hunt Decree; Kazuha knows how fine of a line he’d be treading in that case, and decides it is best to not acknowledge it.

After all, he’s got his own hands full with his own troubles as it is. The Yashiro Commission is influential and powerful, they are no doubt much better equipped for their goals. All Kazuha can have are a string of temporary havens and a bounty on his back.

“At any rate, I’ll leave you to yourself now,” Thoma says as he moves to get up. “Just put the dirty dishes by the door, we have people on standby outside your room. Feel free to let us know if you need anything else too, Kazuha.”

Kazuha nods, and with that, Thoma takes his leave. Kazuha finally begins his meal, the bowl of rice bland on his tongue, but warm. He's sure the side dishes of tamagoyaki and grilled fish had been meticulously prepared by the household’s cooks as well, though he can’t seem to taste much in particular.

He eats, nonetheless. Food is of utmost importance for a quick recovery, and he can’t let the Kamisatos’ hospitality go to waste. He must eat, regain strength.

And in two days at the latest, he will make haste for Watatsumi Island.

xXx

Kazuha accustoms to his proximity to the sea quicker than he’d thought, the salty breeze and crash of waves against the shore soon nothing but part of the background of his everydays.

He sits at his favoured spot on a cliff a little away from the Resistance’s encampment at Fort Fujitou, watching as the setting sun tints the sky a light orange. The camp bustles with activity behind him, the wind carrying the sounds of soldiers training, chattering and cooking all the way to where he is. Camaraderie is strong among the members of the Resistance, though Kazuha personally can never shake off the sense of dread weighing heavy in the base of his stomach while he’s here. War looms just across the horizon, and such high spirits could only fade all too abruptly.

“Kazuha! You’re here all alone again!”

Kazuha’s familiar enough with the owner of the voice by now, recognizing the canine general without even having to look. He glances over his shoulder to regard him nonetheless, subconsciously smiling when he sees the excitement in Gorou’s eyes, the way his tail wags behind him.

“Apologies, do you need me for something?” Kazuha scoots aside to make space when Gorou moves to sit beside him. The wind picks up around them and Kazuha raises his hand to his neck, keeping his hair tie from coming loose.

“Just here to tell you that dinner’s ready soon,” Gorou says, ears twitching as he stretches his arms above his head. “You really do like spending time all by yourself over here, huh?”

Kazuha hums, turning to cast his gaze towards the sea once more. “It’s peaceful here.”

“Yeah, the men can get real rowdy at times,” Gorou agrees with a sheepish chuckle. There’s a bit of pride in his voice, too; Gorou has never been shy with his fondness for his comrades. Outspoken, well-loved and inspiring—he’s without a doubt one of the main contributors to the Resistance army’s zeal thus far. Even Kazuha, despite only having spent a brief time at the camp, finds himself drawn to him. His expressiveness, his open affection, his endless charisma.

And perhaps, something about Gorou reminds him of Tomo.

Tomo. It’s been months since his duel before the throne. Kazuha has been caught up with a whirlwind of matters since then; practically fighting his way to Watatsumi after the boat provided to him by the Yashiro Commission was tracked down and sunken. He hadn’t the time to think—nor had he the ability to do so, his mind seemingly shutting down each time he tries to process the events that had transpired.

Tomo was gone—Kazuha’s body felt it but his brain could not seem to understand.

The husk of Tomo’s Vision rests in a pouch hidden within the folds of Kazuha’s clothes even now. Cold seeps into its brass frame at times, but he’s learnt to live with the discomfort, barely ever letting it out of his sight whenever it’s not closely attached to his being.

He must never lose it, this remaining proof of Tomo’s existence.

“Kazuha?”

Kazuha realizes he must’ve fallen silent for a beat too long, to warrant such concern from Gorou. He tries to pull himself together, working to ease into his now habitual numbed calmness. He faces his companion, ready to offer his sheepish apologies and—

“Gorou, I—” the words tumble from his mouth on their own volition, “I’ve lost someone very dear to me.”

And he clams up the moment he registers what he’d just said. It wasn’t something he’d meant to voice; saying it out loud means recognizing it as fact, after all. But perhaps it’s because Kazuha’s finally found a moment of actual peace, and Gorou’s presence enveloped him like a safety net. His throat constricts, the void within finally giving way to his heart falling apart.

He misses him. He hates him for doing something so incredibly reckless, setting off to die all alone for his ambitions as though it was no one’s rebellion but his own.

He wants to see him again.

...in his last moments, what expression was on his face?

Kazuha stammers his apologies and turns away, shoulders hunching forward while his chest feels like it’s caving in on itself. Perhaps this is the reason why he’d always subconsciously preferred the static in his head, filling his ears with nature’s endless cacophony. If one’s heart is empty, all under heaven is empty. He has to keep going, keep living. He can’t let this unbearable grief hold him back, weigh him down, he can’t—

Kazuha jolts when Gorou places his hand on his back, breath catching in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Kazuha,” Gorou whispers, just as softly.

And it’s such a simple gesture of comfort, really. No grand words, no elaborate tributes. Yet it’s only at this moment that Kazuha realizes it’s the first time someone has openly acknowledged Tomo’s death alongside him. That it hadn’t been, on some off chance, just a delusion, a nightmare of no one but his own. That Tomo truly is gone.

Kazuha feels for the empty Vision, clutches it tight enough to leave deep indents on his skin. The wind feels like it’s frozen in place, leaving only the ceaseless sounds of waves crashing against the cliffside. Loud cheers rise from the camp behind them, the smell of cooked meat wafting into the air. Suffocating, deafening.

The world keeps moving, even if Kazuha’s seems to have since gone into a standstill.

xXx

Kazuha throws himself into the battle, wading through the ranks of the Tenjou soldiers like a madman.  

His right hand has healed by now; all that’s left of the burn are scars even the Sangonomiya High Priestess does not have the power to fix and a muteness of sensations on the damaged skin. Kazuha can feel the weight of his sword, but only a fraction of how tightly he’s gripping onto the hilt.  

Kazuha's sword-work should already be ingrained into his body by now, yet it still throws his entire technique into disarray. He finds that he’s barely hanging on to his own muscle memory, thoughts muddied as he continues to swing his blade with almost reckless abandon, the slight discomfort of freshly healed skin his only reminder to remember to watch his back once more.

The scent of iron and smoke is heavy in the air, but the battle cries and clashes of steel around him eventually come to a stop after what could be hours or days. Kazuha flicks blood off his sword before sheathing it. Numerous bodies lie on the ground by his feet, in his wake. He does not know if they are still alive.

Blue flares light up the sky above the battlefield. The Resistance have successfully stood their ground this time, forcing Tenjou’s men into retreat. Kazuha’s shoulders untense, and now that he finally takes a proper breath—he almost retches where he stands.

He had originally only intended to help the Resistance drive off the Shogun’s forces, preventing them from gaining any more ground the Resistance cannot afford to lose. It was the least he thought he could do, after being in their care for this long.

Yet he had in reality charged into combat with the subconscious intent of spilling blood, cutting deep and aiming to kill. He felt himself losing control, driven by a curdling fury that he never knew he had. Have they not taken enough through the Decree? How much more damage will they cause until they’re satisfied? How many more lives must be lost before the Shogun snaps out of her delusions?

Would Tomo have died for nothing in the end...?

Kazuha doesn’t remember making his way back to his current comrades to regroup. Many of them are injured despite their victory, their armour and maroon uniforms torn and bloody. While they’ve managed to make it through this time, they would likely need a bit of time to fully recover.

Kazuha turns at the call of his name, meeting the gaze of an excitable, albeit worse for wear Gorou. He's covered in grime and blood like the rest of them, and the fur on his tail look slightly singed.

“Gorou,” Kazuha greets when Gorou approaches him, allowing a tiny smile of relief at the sight of his friend. “You’re alright.”

Yet the moment Gorou gets a better look at him, his face falls.

Kazuha fails to understand his reaction, certain that he isn’t sporting any sort of fatal injury worthy of such dismay. He’s filthy, yes, but none of the blood on his being belongs to him. Kazuha tilts his head, his questions already upon his lips—

And Gorou pulls him into a firm, one-armed hug. Kazuha blinks, still not quite sure what brought this on. He can feel Gorou’s hand shaking against the back of his head, hear the tightness in his voice when he speaks.

“Let’s just go back, Kazuha,” he says, hoarsely. “Let’s go home.”

Kazuha only rests his hand on the small of Gorou’s back and hums in agreement.

xXx

With the war raging, even the sight of a ship docked at Watatsumi’s shores has grown unusual.

The Alcor belongs to the Crux fleet of Liyue, manned by pirates led by a very loud, very strong-willed woman by the name of Beidou.

Kazuha studies the ship from his vantage at his usual spot, admiring as much of its craftsmanship as he can make out from this distance. Its distinctive Liyuen designs, the intricate details of the carved dragon figurehead. It must be extremely sturdy, to have survived the perilous journey through the violent storms around Inazuma’s borders ever since the enaction of the Sakoku Decree. The Shogun, in her fit of madness, has gone as far as to even attempt sealing away the nation from the world—yet here docks this vessel despite it all, proud and defiant as her master.

Strange as it is, seeing the Alcor here gives Kazuha a bit of courage.

“So will you accept the Captain’s invitation?”

Gorou’s question carries not a hint of teasing, his voice solemnly quiet as he takes a seat beside Kazuha. Kazuha doesn’t answer immediately, spending a few minutes to observe the crew aboard the Alcor hustle around with their activities in silence. He would be lying if he said there isn’t an inkling of an urge to follow them and escape the suffocation of the war.

“I believe I am more needed here than over there,” Kazuha finally says, swallowing the sigh that builds up in his chest. His statement earns him a small scowl from his companion, a downturn of Gorou’s ears.

“But if you’re not?” he asks, and there's something about the way he looks at him with such earnestness that always easily causes Kazuha’s walls to crumble, hindering his carefully practiced habit of hiding behind a facade of calm.

“Then I admit that I’m curious,” Kazuha answers, unable to maintain eye contact. After all, it’s such an honourless thing to do, wanting to leave behind the people he’s indebted to for his own selfish reasons.

“Then you should go,” Gorou suggests, stopping Kazuha with a quick raise of his hand before he’s able to protest further. “It’d be good for you, Kazuha. I can see how exhausted you are from all the constant fighting.”

“But this is war, Gorou.” And Kazuha isn’t the only one who’s exhausted from the many battles. And the Resistance, with its manpower that consists mainly of people who have been nothing but farmers and fishermen all their lives, might not stand a chance without him, he doesn’t say. Doesn’t need to, because no doubt Gorou’s painfully aware of that too.

“And you seem to underestimate Her Excellency’s brilliance in leading us safely to victory,” Gorou counters, puffing up his chest. “Besides, I’ll still be here. I’ll make sure we’ll always find a way to win!”

Yet perhaps it’s precisely because Gorou will remain that contributes to Kazuha’s dilemma. Truth to be told, Kazuha has never really felt the strongest sense of bonding with the Resistance soldiers. He’d fought by their side and that was it. He remembered no names, barely any faces. He scarcely even shared their cause, deep down unable to acknowledge that such needless mutual violence would amount to anything in the end.

Gorou has always been his sole connection to both the Resistance and the ongoing war. He filled the void in Kazuha’s heart that Tomo had left behind, and if no one else, Kazuha cares for him dearly. He is a skilled and resourceful general for sure, but would that be all it takes to guide him through the conflict in one piece? If Kazuha left now, would he be able to see him again the next time he returns?

“Just go, Kazuha,” Gorou persists, his encouragement sounding genuine despite the sheer selfishness of the decision. “I know that your heart does not belong here.”

It truly does not. The numerous skirmishes have long worn away at Kazuha, weighing him down with a bone-deep exhaustion that never fades regardless of the many hours of rest he manages. For what reason did he wield his sword here, exactly? Had it all not gone down to this, he would’ve been content to merely keep hiding away from the Vision hunters and let someone else handle the rebellion. Had it all not gone down to this, Kazuha would’ve been content to simply continue his life as a wanderer, even if it meant having to live with the constant hassle of being chased down.

Tomo must’ve known this. Fallen leaves are always meant to be carried along by the winds, after all. Perhaps that is the reason their paths had diverged in the end, and Tomo had chosen to take his final stand alone.

“I’m...sorry,” Kazuha finally concedes, and Gorou only replies with a hum and a pat on his back, appreciating his honesty.

“Don’t be; forcing our comrades to stay when they no longer want to is of no benefit to us. Her Excellency said so herself in her first edition of ‘Intermediate’s Guide to Leading the Rebellion’!” Gorou assures, tail swaying behind him. His gaze softens as he reaches to ruffle Kazuha’s hair. “So go out there and see the world on our behalf, yeah? Maybe let everyone know what’s going on here too—and who knows? You might just stumble upon a trump card for us on the way!”

Kazuha feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, marvelling at Gorou’s untouchable optimism. When Gorou says it, he wants to believe it. That him leaving is the best course of action, and that in doing so he could help turn the tides of the war some way or another.

“Promise me you’ll still be alive the next time I return, Gorou,” Kazuha says, an unreasonable request yet it does nothing to dampen Gorou’s enthusiasm.

“Of course, I’m never gonna go down so easily!” he replies, then withdrawing and giving Kazuha the chance to properly look at him.

Kazuha bends his leg, resting his head against his knee as he tries to commit Gorou’s image to memory. He doesn’t know how long he’d be gone, but he would miss him regardless, he thinks. It certainly seems like he’s going to spend a lot of time missing a lot of people lately—and perhaps just a bit of attachment, the faintest sense of belonging, isn’t so bad even for a wanderer.

“In that case,” Kazuha begins, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the request he’s about to make, “may I have the honour of touching Top Dog Gorou’s ears for some good luck in the journey?”

“Kazuhaaa,” Gorou immediately protests, wilting at the cheesy moniker. “Not you too!!”

Kazuha chuckles, ready to apologise and brush it off as a joke when Gorou shifts his gaze, a faint blush dusting across his cheeks.

“B-But I suppose I can make this one exception for you,” he stammers, growing redder by the second, and Kazuha really shouldn’t be finding the General of the Resistance army so incredibly adorable. “But only this one time, you hear?”

“I will cherish it,” Kazuha swears with as much solemnity as he can muster. Gorou maintains his half-hearted frown at him for a moment longer before dipping his head in permission.

Kazuha reaches out, lightly drawing his fingernails over a particular spot behind Gorou’s left ear—the one that often twitches, whether Gorou himself is aware of it or not. Gorou’s hair is soft despite having used only the simplest hygiene products like the rest of them, nowhere near as dry as Kazuha’s has become after months of exposure to the sea salt breeze.

“Are you done?” Gorou barely suppresses the pleased whimper from the back of his throat when he finally speaks again after a minute or two, his bushy tail unfortunately betraying his actual enjoyment from being petted just right. Kazuha doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it, but he decides that the least he could do is to leave poor Gorou some dignity.

So he withdraws with a final scritch behind Gorou’s ear, a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest and a strange tingle in his fingers. He gives Gorou some time to clear his throat and regain his comppsure before getting on his feet, his heart finally set.

“Well then,” Kazuha says, holding out a hand to help his companion up. “I suppose I better go let the Captain know?”

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

A/N: haha what if kazuha copes the typical anemo boi way haha what then

i'd also like to mention that kazuha and tomo's motivations here are heavily based on the interpretations of the Miota MAD, wherein they'd walked different paths because tomo wanted to stand up for his own ambitions while kazuha was happy to simply continue a life of anonymity. pls check out the mv if yall havent folks im still!! crying over it!!

[locofinn]

Drunken Love

Diluc x Reader

warning: NSFW

Gods, were you absolutely fucking wasted.

It hadn't taken much to get you started. Diluc had bought a set of crystal liquor glasses off a Shneznayan salesman nearly 5 months ago, and they only been collecting dust in the cabinet since. When you found them tucked so far back you assumed they were antiques, the only logical thing to do was pour yourself a glass of brandy. Or two glasses. Three might've been alright, too.

When the grandfather clock struck midnight and Diluc still hadn't returned from his gallantry, you finally decided to set the glass down and head upstairs. Elzer was wiping the sweat from his brow as you turned the corner to dash up the stairs on all fours—childish, you know—as you often did when full of energy. Elzer was always startled by the boom of the clock, for it meant he then had to leave his post and return to his own home in the darkness.

"Elzer!" You called, stumbling to rest your elbows on the polished oak desk he always sat behind. You were surprised the hardwood floors hadn't rooted his feet in place. "You're leaving?"

"Yes, my dear," He responded, slinging his tailcoat over his forearm. He had decided to remove it, seeing as Mondstadt Augusts were unbearablely hot, even at night. "My shift is over."

"I don't want to be home alone," You pouted, words slurred from the liquor. "Won't you stay?"

He placed a kiss to your blushed cheek and stepped outside. "I mustn't. Rest well, Y/N."

You blew a raspberry at his back as he headed out the door. Now alone, drunk, and too full of energy to even consider sleeping, you perched in the windowsill and watched the road for you lovers return. You laughed to yourself, feeling like a widow waiting for her husband to return from war.

When the first splotch of crimson crested the hill, you sprang to your feet and threw the door open, waving your hands frantically. He smiled and stepped into a slow jog. When he was finally inside, face bitten pink from the heat, he shrugged off his heavy coat and placed a kiss to your eager lips.

His face crinkled with distaste. "You've been drinking?"

"A bit. I was bored." You giggled and pulled him down by the collar for another kiss. He met you halfway. "I'm so happy you're home." You smiled against his lips.

"As am I." The two of you kissed and held each other for a long moment as if you'd been apart for months. It was always like this, the relief of just being in the others presence after only a day turns into either lovemaking or cuddling. You liked both equally.

"Did you crack open the brandy? You taste sweet."

You laughed at his guess, even though it was correct. You always found it funny that he had such extensive knowledge about liquor when the liquid hardly ever touched his lips.

"I did. Would you like some as well? Drinking alone is no fun."

To your surprise, he pondered with a hand on his chin. It's stubbled just slightly. You often wished for Diluc to grow facial hair, if only so you could braid it and play with it. He always rejected the idea, saying 'I would look like my father.'

"I think I will have a glass, actually." He said.

"Really? You're going to drink with me?"

"If that's what you would like, then yes."

You gaped at him, but he only smiled. In an instant, you were scurrying to the kitchen to retrieve the other liquor glass and pour a glass for him. And maybe another for yourself as well.

You placed the glass into his palms, folding his fingers over the cold crystal like a birds egg and urging him to take a sip. He laughed at your enthusiasm and drank, grimacing at the taste.

"It's awful." He frowned, and you poked him in the ribs.

"Just drink this one glass. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

He smiled teasingly and downed it like some sort of madman. You lunged for him, panicked and shocked, and he coughed wildly and whooped in triumph.

“All done!” He exclaimed, sticking out his tongue to prove his point. You socked him right where his collarbone met his shoulder, and he giggled. He supposed he had a bruise from all the teasing beatings you gave him in that one specific spot. The dip of his shoulder was like a target and you always had precise aim.

“That’s disgusting.” You teased. “You’re going to be sicker than a dog come morning.”

“I’ll have you there to tend to me.”

“You say that as if I’m not working on my fourth glass.” You retorted. He frowned, snatching the brandy from your grasp and downing yours as well. You can only gape in confusion.

He smiled at you wickedly, and you pounced on him. He caught you mid swing and hoisted you into the air, twirling you in circles while pressing your chest to his own. You pushed at his toned forearms, demanding he release you. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but grin as he flopped down on the couch with you still folded in his strong arms.

“You are the biggest lightweight I’ve ever know, love.”

“What did you expect?” He asked. His grip on your waist was solid iron, completely unfaltering. He was exceptionally strong, and you never passed up an opportunity to feel up his magnificent arms, but you were beginning to suffocate.

“Diluc, you’re going to squish me!” You squeal, and his arms fall to his sides. You suck down an exaggerated breath and he frowns.

On the very few occasions you managed to get Diluc drunk, he was always insufferably clingy. Similarly, he was always quite touchy when he was sober as well, but the alcohol seemed to amplify that need of his ten-fold. He was like a newborn to its mothers breast.

“Must you give me that look? You’re like a pouting puppy.”

It was true. The sad gleam in his dazzling red eyes and the small pout in his pink lips along with the droopy puppy-ears of his long hair truly made him look miserable; like being away from your touch for even one second would drive him mad.

“I want to touch you.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[change-the-rules]

OKay but Lucy’s face every time Cat says that ‘she got the looks’ or ‘she’s the pretty one’ after finding out Lucy was Lois’ kid sister

Like on the one hand Lucy is very bi and on the other it’s just an avalanche of angst because when has anyone every said Lucy was better than Lois in any way and also it’s Cat Grant who’s rivalry with Lois is legendary so Lucy figures it’s not like it really means anything when she says it even if it is v nice to hear 

[randomshyperson]

Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Little Delicious Accident

Gif was made by bestie @abimess

Summary: After a minor mistake with your homework, you realize your long-time crush on the Literature teacher might not be so one-sided.

Warnings: (+18), Dom!Wanda (bottom), oral (r giving), college au, kissing, semi public. || Words: 5.231

A/N: I finally managed to write something about Professor! Wanda, and although it's short, here it is. If anyone has ideas for fics, I'm accepting, I think I'm at a little creative block.

All Works Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad ||

--//--

It had to be a crime for someone as breathtaking as Wanda Maximoff to teach the last class of every Friday.

By default, you were more tired than on any other day, and despite the brilliant mind of the older woman and her ideas and teaching methods, you were - more than twenty-eight minutes to be exact, and that number was being counted by your best friend Kate Bishop who was watching you out of the corner of her eye between one pause in your explanation and the next - undeniably staring at the teacher's cleavage.

In your defense, your brain seemed unwilling to obey her commands. You wanted to understand whatever Miss Maximoff was talking about, and you knew that you would probably get a failing grade on her subject if you kept it up, but you couldn't help it. 

Wanda paused for a drink of water, her gaze meeting yours for half a second, and you almost dropped your notebooks to the floor, blushing heavily as you realized that she probably caught you. Kate held her giggle beside you as you adjusted your posture - none of the other students, equally exhausted and the vast majority sleepy - seemed to notice anything.

"I'm impressed." Bishop whispered amusedly beside you. 

"With what?" you asked confused and in the same low tone.

"I figured you'd end up drooling, but you did well for the measure of position." She scoffed making you mumble in embarrassment.

"You could have warned me I was staring."

"And miss the fun? Not a chance." She retorted and gave you a gentle nudge to make you look at the cell phone she placed on top of your thigh. You frowned as you found a picture of yourself, your expression mesmerized as you watched the class. "I took it for the girls, they didn't believe me when I said you had puppy dog eyes for anyone, let alone a teacher." 

"Stop talking, please." You retorted pressing your face between your hands for a moment.

Wanda resumed her explanation, but then, she asked for some kind of assignment that you would have to go over with Kate because for some reason the woman had pinned up her hair for the last part of the class and you absorbed absolutely not a word of what you were told.

Your shared apartment was empty when you arrived, and your immediate action was to throw yourself on the bed with your shoes still on, sighing out loud at the disaster you had become.

Wanda Maximoff had been teaching literature at NYU for exactly seven months. Your first two years at NYU had been quiet and fun - full of parties and new friends although full of homework and a grueling internship as well - and you expected your third and penultimate year to follow the same pattern. But Mr. T'Challa retired, and the principal hired another foreign teacher.

Of course, this fact alone attracted everyone's curiosity, but when Wanda Maximoff first entered the classroom, what you felt was much more than curiosity. At first, you thought it was just a childish crush, after all, it would make sense, the woman was beautiful and bright and the accented accent didn't help with your heartbeat, but as time went on you found yourself sinking deeper into an intense attraction that couldn't possibly go anywhere for one simple shiny reason called the wedding ring Wanda was wearing.

You decided to get over it, and well, getting over one love for you could only come with another. You tried tinder, dates with old contacts, blind dates, and one-night stands, but nothing could get the damn green eyes and Sokovian accent out of your head.

Things don't get any better when on an ordinary Thursday, Pepper Potts, aka the girl who knew everyone's secrets on campus, told Natasha Romanoff, who told her younger sister Yelena who told her girlfriend also known as your best friend Kate Bishop, that the literature Miss Maximoff was getting divorced.

You see, there is a reason for you to study Literature. Even though you had agreed to pursue a 'real' career as your parents wished, or rather demanded on the condition that they bankroll your university or your car, you had little freedom to continue taking extra classes in the things you really enjoyed doing. Writing was one of these, reading was another. Both just meant that you had the natural instinct to create stories.

If you immediately started imagining fantasies where your teacher left her husband to fuck a student, this is entirely the fault of the gossip, not yours. 

Usually, these anxious fantasies are merely harmless fantasies. If you can't turn them into stories - as is largely the case with Wanda - you confess them to your virtual diary, a habit you acquired in the eighth grade and kept for years, one of the few hobbies that didn't seem to bother your demanding parents.

You got up almost against your will, but you needed a hot shower. Darcy wasn't around, and after you got into the tub, you confirmed on your cell phone if she was on her way.

'I'm going to buy our dinner, but I had a problem at the library and it' will take me about 35 minutes." That was the message she sent and you replied with a face, detailing about wanting something Mexican before returning the cell phone to the edge of the tub.

Your thoughts returned to Wanda almost immediately. You sighed heavily. It wasn't fair, not even a little, how easily she seemed to find her way back to your mind.

With another sigh, you faced the empty bathroom. The hot water was relaxing your muscles, and you were beginning to smell of soap. Darcy would be long enough, and it seemed the perfect time to do some writing.

Picking up your cell phone again, you decided to express your feelings then. You opened the recorder and turned it on, taking a deep breath before you began to pour out your heart.

“Dear Diary,

I think I may have often seemed like Emily Dickison confessing her forbidden love for her sister-in-law. Although Emily, living in a time where her love was prohibited, still had some advantage over me. Sue corresponded her love, and this luck I do not possess.

I wish I could start some new chapter, by saying something like finally dear diary. Finally, I don't think about Wanda anymore. As if these feelings will magically disappear, and I will finally have the chance to meet someone who can love me back. Maybe I could even learn more decently about literature if I wasn't thinking what I think every time I see her.

It's gotten worse, I believe. Wanda seems to get more gorgeous by the second, or maybe it's me, or the lack of what I should be doing. I haven't been intimate with someone in quite some time, how could I anyway? It wouldn't be fair to use someone else when all you think about is her. I even feared letting her name slip when I met that girl last month and we almost slept together. I backed off at the last minute, knowing that I would have done so if she touched me. I would have said Wanda's name.

There is no hope for me, I fear. I keep thinking about her. Her emerald eyes are so intense and deep, that sparkle when she laughs. That mouth has to be a sin. I imagine kissing her hard, and then slowly. Until her lips are swollen. I think about the sounds she would make. Would she sigh, or would it be more like a grunt when she finally tasted me? Oh, and about taste I wonder so much. Not just of her tongue, but of something more carnal and lower.

What sounds would Wanda make if I fucked her? Would she be loud, unable to contain herself? Or would she bite her lips, and put a hand against her mouth to muffle it while I tease her where it is most intimate?

Would she cum in my mouth with just my tongue, how sensitive she would be? How tight. How wet-"

The sound of the lock made you shut up. You bit your tongue, feeling your face as warm as your body. The images of what you would do with Wanda raced through your mind, but you moved your hand to pick up the phone and turn off the recorder.

"Y/N, I brought our food!" Darcy warned outside, and you heard the keys as well. Sighing, you shook your head to push the thoughts away. Your fingers were trembling a little, so you decided to leave the file saved in the recent ones to later export to your journal properly in the safety of fingers that weren't.

You dunked your face in the bathtub before getting up.

–//–

Your weekend was not relaxing, not even a little. Your assignments were piling up and after preparing two seminars, you just wanted to rest. 

So of course Kate reminded you that you had an assignment due Monday in Literature.

"What?" you practically whined indignantly, sitting in the library with Kate by your side. Your friend just giggled.

"If you had spent less time drooling over the teacher, you would have been able to finish this in class." She retorted without looking at you, busy with some biology review she was doing.

You sighed, burying your face in your books. "I just wanted to sleep." You mumbled and Kate patted you on the back a few times.

"Go on honey, it's something simple." She tries. "Just a few lines and you can go take a nap before we go to the party tonight." 

This only makes you grumble against the books harder, and Kate laughs softly, finally taking her attention away from the lesson to look at you. "And it's no use saying you're not going, you hear? Natasha told me I was supposed to drag you by the hair if you rescheduled anything else with her."

"I guess I'll just make some new friends then." You muttered and received a pinch on your thigh that made you giggle as Kate next to you. 

Wanda's assignment wasn't difficult, but you needed to pay attention. Which wasn't being very easy to do with so many open books of other subjects around you.

"You said Monday, right? I think I'll leave it until tomorrow." You say, and Kate hums in understanding. You decide to review some chemistry content, and since you don't trust your memory at all, you write a little reminder on a piece of paper about the lesson before focussing on something else.

Natasha's parties are really big because she is part of a sorority, which is exactly why you usually miss these appointments.

As soon as you and Kate arrive in front of the building and you can hear the loud music already outside, you know that there is no chance of leaving this place early.

"Too late to get back to the dorm, isn't it?" You joke getting a laugh from Kate who entwines her arm with yours.

"Come on." She says ignoring your last comment and before you know it, you are both in a crowded and noisy environment with lots of booze going around.

Not exactly your place. So when Kate gets a glass for you, the first sip is a long one for luck.

"Hey, Natasha and Yelena are on the balcony. Come." Kate led you by the hand through the crowd, gently pushing her way among the other dancing students to reach the outside.

Yelena hugged you tight as soon as she finished greeting her girlfriend, and you laughed because she almost knocked over your drink.

"You finally got out of that lab and came to see us, Y/N." Natasha commented as soon as she greeted you after her sister, and you gave her a shy smile.

Soon, the conversation started to flow. Casual and fun, just friends catching up on the last few busy weeks. But then Kate remembered a particular photo.

"Oh my god, you guys need to see this!" She declared excitedly pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, and you were already mumbling in embarrassment before she even started to tell them.

"[...] Wait, I'm confused." Yelena began. "You've dated more than half the campus, but you're into this one professor?" She questioned and you grumbled as Kate and Nat exchanged giggles.

"In my defense, I only went out with half the campus because I was trying not to be into the teacher." You argued. "And I hate this conversation, so while you guys are reveling in my misery, I'm going to go drink."

And by God, how you drank. You haven't drunk like that since you were accepted to the university and went out to celebrate with Kate. But that night, deciding to put out of your mind any thought that even seemed to have anything to do with Wanda, you went on a rampage.

You think you danced with the girls at some point, but the memories didn't stick, and you consequently had the worst hangover in the world the next day.

You slept until three in the afternoon - which was even impressive because you didn't get back to the dorm until breakfast time - and woke up Darcy poking you in the ribs.

"You need to drink water and eat something." She clarified, and you muttered thanks to the painkiller she handed you as well. 

"Please kill me." You grumbled hearing her laugh from across the room. "Or, don't bother, my head will do it."

You refused to get up for long minutes, listening to Darcy walk around the room. 

"What are you doing?" You asked with your eyes closed. 

"It's Sunday, Y/N. Cleaning day."

"Shit, I'm sorry." You spoke as you spun in bed and opened your eyes. "I totally forgot."

Darcy laughed, shaking his head. "It's okay, next week you clean up by yourself and we'll call it even. " She says casually, and is holding a trash bag in hand, she is taking several items from your desk. "You have a lot of stuff piled up here, what can I throw away?"

Your head is hurting pretty bad still, but you blink away the feeling to try to answer. "Anything crossed out."

Darcy murmurs in understanding, and you almost fall asleep again until she speaks again.

"Hey, there's one here that says Article Literature dated Monday. " She warns with a little yellow paper in hand and you let out a loud grumble.

"God, I hate my life." You retort, sinking your face into the pillow for a moment before looking at a pitying Darcy with a look of pity on her face. "Do you think there's any chance of a hangover being accepted as justification?"

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. "You take Literature with that hottie Miss Maximoff, don't you? Kate says she has a sweet spot for you. Try your luck." Darcy says with a wink, and because she's busy cleaning, she doesn't notice the way your cheeks heat up.

You sink your face into the pillow again, complaining about the insistent headache, and Darcy sighs before leaving the bag on the floor and picking up your literature book from the desk.

"God, I am just the best roommate anyone could ever have." She mumbles, attracting your attention, and you raise an eyebrow as you look at her sitting in her bedroom chair with the book in her lap.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm going to help you do your homework." She explains, holding out her hand. "Give me your cell phone, you can record the answers and then only edit the file when your head isn't exploding."

"You are a brilliant angel, Darcy Lewis." You half-exhaustedly praised, moving one hand to pick up the cell phone and hand it to her. Darcy hums to herself as she turns on the device and types the questions that are marked in your book before placing the electronic device on the side of your bed. You struggle to keep your eyes open.

"Okay, the first question is [...]."

With a little difficulty, mostly from your head taking time to reason out the answers beyond the pain, you and Darcy finally manage to finish your activities. She turns off the recording, commenting that you will just need to edit them later in the text file before you go back to cleaning. But she doesn't let you go back to sleep, insisting that you should get up and eat something, which you do begrudgingly.

It must be almost six in the afternoon when you finally feel a little better. Darcy is truly an angel in reminding you again about the literature lesson, and you give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek in thanks before sitting down on the kitchen counter and beginning to revise your work.

Switching quickly from the app to the virtual classroom environment, you are humming distractedly as you select the class and teacher information correctly.

"Hey, Y/N, your noodles are burning." Darcy suddenly warns, and you let out a loud exclamation, quickly pressing the email attachment before leaving your cell phone on the countertop and going to turn off the pot.

Fortunately, your noodles haven't burned. A little dry perhaps, but still tasty. Hungover you felt really hungry, and this should be your third dinner if you count the cookies you haven't stopped snacking on.

Sighing heavily, you turned back to your cell phone and took one last quick check before sending your lesson, your mouth salivating to taste your food.

Darcy - who was in the living room - called out to you. "The show's about to start, get over here." She warned, and you, completely clueless that you had sent the second, and not the first, most recent file, went to join your friend for a quiet evening of television and bad food.

While laughing at bad jokes, you had no idea of the woman across campus, blushing profusely as she opened an audio file that certainly had nothing to do with Literature.

–//–

Wanda would be lying if she said she never thought about it.

Because in fact, she did think about it. Many, many times.

The thing is, actually hearing you talk about fucking her took her completely by surprise to say the least.

Despite the racing heart in her chest and the shock, she could also feel the heat from inside her pajama pants, and a cold shower didn't help much.

This had definitely been an accident. Your own confessions confirmed it, but still, part of her was grateful for the accident. Now she knew, and now there was no chance she would let you get away with it.

So Monday started as normal, classes the same, and breaks the same. Wanda didn't show any different excitement when your period started, even though she had been watching the door and had noticed exactly the moment you walked in laughing shyly with your friend Kate, or how her stomach turned with the sound or how her body shivered when she remembered your low tone in the message or the way she could feel her own face heat up when your gaze met hers for a split second before you made your way to one of the tables.

In fact, Wanda thinks she could congratulate herself on having managed to maintain professionalism the entire class in any remnants of her carelessness, since her mind was miles away, wondering what your mouth would feel like on her.

"Miss Maximoff, is everything okay?" The question proved that she had not disguised herself as well as she had imagined, and the worried glances in her direction confirmed this. Wanda cleared her throat, realizing that she had been silent for some time.

"Sorry, guys." She said deciding it was a good thing she wasn't looking at you again. "Where was I..."

Fortunately, she was able to finish her explanation. There was still almost half an hour left before the period ended, but Wanda was almost combusting in her own seat. 

"I think we can call it a day." She declared to the room then, ignoring the confused looks as she quickly thought of an excuse. "I have a bit of a headache, sorry about that. Use these extra minutes to get ahead on your semester's work. Or to sleep, it's your choice." She jokes, getting several laughs from the students who have already started putting away their materials. "See you on Wednesday. And Miss L/N, a word before you go. About Friday's work."

Wanda turned to her desk, sure that she was going to let something slip if she kept looking at your adorable confused expression.

You exchanged a look with Kate, who shrugged.

"See you in history class?" She asks and you nod in farewell, watching her leave along with the rest of the students as you make your way to Miss Maximoff's desk.

You figure you must have messed up your lesson really bad, probably got everything wrong which wouldn't be so surprising since you haven't learned anything about Literature since you kept drooling over the teacher, because Wanda waited until the room was empty, arms crossed and back resting on the desk before she said anything.

"Miss L/N, I need to say that I was surprised by what you sent me yesterday."

You sigh softly. Yep, you definitely got a gigantic F. You could already picture yourself having to drop this class, and your parents' winning expression.

"I'm sorry." You say sadly, but Wanda frowns.

"Surprise doesn't mean I thought it was bad." She retorts, and you raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Wait, really? So I didn't fail?" Your question made Wanda grin. It was definitely an accident. She sighed barely perceptible, her eyes watching you intently.

She hummed. "I didn't say that." And is amused at the way your excitement fades in a second. "You know, Miss L/N, I've noticed how distracted you've been in my class. Aside from several delays in the last few weeks. You don't even seem interested in this conversation by the way you keep looking at everything but me."

"I am interested in you-in this conversation!" You correct yourself half a sentence into an anxious exclamation, blushing heavily over Wanda's intense gaze. Swallowing your embarrassment, and trying to gain some dignity, you add, "I'm sorry, I'm nervous. I'll pay attention, and I can redo the lesson if it's okay with you."

Wanda bites back a smile, moving away from the table to approach you. Whether she notices the way you tighten your grip on the bag or that your breathing hitches, she doesn't say. What she does say, however, only makes your situation worse.

"Do I make you nervous?"

You could melt, right there. Wanda stopped just in front of you, biting her lips as if she knew exactly the effect she had on your body.

And you were too shocked to react, which only seemed to amuse her more. She uncrossed her arms, and her hands went to your shirt, slowly smoothing the collar.

"I asked you a question, darling." Wanda insists, and you sigh softly.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" she retorts, her fingers brushing your neck skin and making all the hairs on the back of your neck shiver.

"You make me nervous, Miss Maximoff." You can hardly believe you answered without stuttering, though your face is still burning. You have the natural instinct to look away from Wanda, and you gasp softly when she moves a finger to your chin, causing you to look back at her.

"Keep those beautiful eyes of yours on me, darling." She directs, and you feel your heart soar in your rib cage.

"M-miss Maximoff, I don't-"

"You should check the files you send, Y/N." She interrupts, one hand firmly on your collar while the other lands on your neck, her fingers scratching the back of your neck gently and making you shudder. Wanda enjoyed playing, watching the gears of your brain work, or the way you shyly lingered around her. "Imagine if you sent such dirty words to the wrong person. Good thing you sent to the one you were talking about." She declared and you didn't understand, at least not in the first second. The second you realized what had been done, your face lost its color.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I-"

"Shush now, sweetheart. You don't have to apologize." Wanda cut in shortening the distance between you two, and you would have shut up anyway, finding it hard to breathe properly or keep your eyes open with Wanda so close. "Now I need to know if you meant it."

"I-I..."

"Use your grown-up words." Wanda insists almost wickedly as she rests her forehead against yours, her breath against your lips makes you twitch. "Say you meant it when you said you wanted to fuck me."

You groan, closing your eyes as you feel a sharp wave of heat in your lower belly at her words. You nod, brushing your lips against hers. "I mean it."

It's Wanda's turn to grunt against your lips, the hand at the back of your neck moving to tangle her fingers in your hair and give a gentle tug that makes you gasp. "And what are you waiting for?"

You don't answer her with words, moving forward as you break the distance between your mouths. Both of you gasp as you press your lips together, and your hands wrap around Wanda's waist while her hands firm on your neck. 

It is an intense battle of panting tugs and fighting for dominance. Your purse falls to the floor at some point, and you stumble as you push Wanda, making her almost whimper as her hips hit the table and your thigh finds the space between them. You waste no time in lifting Wanda by the thighs, sitting her down on the wood without stopping kissing her.

Now her nails scratch the back of your neck and scalp, messing up your hair as she guides the kiss, her legs curling up behind your waist.

Your mouth moved down to her jaw, and Wanda smiled breathlessly, eyes closed feeling your lips make their way to her collarbone as your hands moved up the inside of her blouse, squeezing and clawing their way in a rush.

You found your way to her breasts, your hands gripping the covered flesh hard and Wanda arched her body, an affected moan ripping through her throat. 

Your kisses were rough, almost hard enough to mark her skin and Wanda rolled her eyes in pleasure as she felt you bite a sensitive spot before pulling your hair gently and getting a hoarse moan as you looked back at her with dark eyes.

"On your knees." She commanded husky, accent sharp against your lips and you grunted, wasting no time in obeying, your mouth meeting hers in one last intense kiss before you lowered yourself.

Your hands with the help of hers pushed the fabric of her skirt out of the way, and you practically whimpered as you found the dark fabric of her panties - the clear evidence of wetness practically dripping down her thighs - your hands working to get Wanda open for you. "Do a good job, and you might get an A." Wanda teased in a breathless tone making you smile mischievously before your fingers pushed her panties out of the way, and sank into her without warning.

You both gasped at the contact. Wanda was burning. Her hands gripped the edge of the table tightly as she watched you, and you licked your lips before tentatively touching her, discovering the spots she seemed to like best. Soon, Wanda turned into a panting mess, her face flushed and eyes ajar, watching you tease her wet pussy, your fingers skirting her clit and folds but never doing more than teasing her entrance until she was about to explode.

"Fuck me like you mean it." She commands in an affected sigh, and you groan, sinking two fingers into her and watching her choke and her face contort with pleasure. But you move your fingers away, and before Wanda can complain, your mouth sinks into her, and she must let go of the table to cover with her hand the scream that tears at her throat. Your hands steady her thighs and you slide your tongue inside her, devouring her deliciously. 

Her free hand grips your hair, forcing you against her as she tries to reach her climax. But the strokes of your tongue make her whimper, and Wanda must hold the table, her hips thrusting against your face as she tries not to make so much noise.

It is the middle of the day. Someone could walk into the room at any moment, and find her like this, open to you while you eat her best. That just makes it all the more delicious.

As she gets closer, you moan against her pussy feeling her dripping, and Wanda gasps as she meets your gaze again. The intensity she finds, the tenderness, it makes her heart flutter. This doesn't feel like just sex.

But she won't think about that now, because her brain can't form a coherent thought at this point. Just a few more strokes and she comes, melting into your tongue, the grip loosening and her body quivering in ecstasy. 

You are cleaning her with your tongue when the bell rings. Wanda opens her eyes lazily, and you purr against her pussy before pulling away to stand and help her with her skirt.

Your lips meet in an intense but gentle kiss, and you both have satisfied smiles.

"I want to return the favor." Wanda says against your lips, and you sigh, your hands firm on her waist.

"I've been needing extra lessons." You suggest moving your lips down to her neck. "You know because I've been so distracted in class."

She hums in satisfaction, her hands finding your waist. "How about Tuesdays and Thursdays after the last period?"

"Sounds great, Miss Maximoff." You say, and one of her hands returns to your neck so that you look at her.

"Call me Wanda." She says, kissing you intensely.

You grunt softly at having to break the kiss, but you know you have to because the class will fill up soon. Wanda helps you fix your clothes, and you hers, and you have to take a deep breath to resist the urge to kiss her non-stop again.

"See you tomorrow." You say, already able to hear the next bunch coming into the room.

Wanda smiles and nods before assuming a much more serious and professional posture. "And Miss L/N, the new deadline for that paper is Thursday. Don't delay." She warns with her strong accent and tone as if a teacher who had just begrudgingly given an irresponsible student a second chance. A few of those who have already entered the room exchange curious glances, but you only give Wanda a nod before turning to leave.

This woman is going to be the death of you, but you are more concerned about how you are going to tell your friends about this.

[hellfiremunsonn]

See You At Seven? Steve Harrington x Reader

See You At Seven?

I do not allow my writing to be republished anywhere other than my own blog without my consent

Summary: Losing your virginity to Steve doesn’t go how you thought it would.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Word count: 4667

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, f orgasm, fingering, dirty talk, blood, painful penetration, Dom!Steve if you squint, aftercare, supportive Steve. 

It was one of those summer days where nothing seemed to cure my boredom. I tried reading, watching a movie, sun tanning, even cleaning my room. Laying flat on my back on my bed I stared at the popcorn ceiling above me trying to think of anything that could help pass the time. I was waiting for Steve to finish his shift at Family Video so we could hang out. He had booked the weekend off for us to spend some time together. Both of us working too much that we weren't making enough time for each other so we decided to change that. It was strange being in a relationship with someone who was actually mature enough to discuss things like that, and even though Steve is well, Steve, he's smarter than he looks.

Glancing at the small pink clock on my bedside table, I figured 4:30 was a good time to phone Family Video and harass Steve on the other end. It was usually dead in the store so we talked often when we could, helped both of us pass the time quicker. Dialling the number I now knew off by heart Robin picked up on the third ring. "Family Video this is Robin!" Her perky voice ringing in my ears and bringing a smile to my face. "Hey Robs it's me" I said leaning against the wall next to the phone. "Oh my god (Y/N) Steve is being so annoying and mopey, all he's doing is leaning on the counter complaining about when he can see you, and I'm pretty sure I caught him laying on the floor at one point just in full despair, I don't know what you've done to him, but I love it and hate it all at the same time-" I stifled a laugh as she rambled on before I heard Steves voice. "Robin give me the phone"

"No I'm talking to her, she likes me more, stop it, Steve don't STEVE!" The clatter of the phone was loud and I had to pull the receiver away from my ear for a moment. A distant "You're disgusting!" was heard and then Steves chuckle vibrated through the phone.

"Babe?" He said still laughing

"What did you do to her this time?" I asked.

"Wet willy" he said proudly. I scrunched my nose up in response.

"So childish" I fake mocked.

"It's the only way to fight back with her, and it works like a charm" I could still hear robin mumbling on the other end and I knew Steve was going to get an ear full (no pun intended) after we hung up. "So as per usual the parents are away, and I was thinking you'd come stay over for the weekend? We can just swim, and watch movies, and eat take out until were both uncomfortably full"

A small blush rising to my cheeks made me thankful for the fact Steve couldn't see me through the phone. "That sounds perfect, I could use some time away from my parents" I sighed.

"Everything okay?" He asked quickly.

"Oh yeah nothing crazy, just parents being parents" I rolled my eyes. My parents truly weren't that bad, and we got along quite well, it was just those normal parent things that were getting on my nerves lately. "Maybe I'm pmsing or something and I'm just getting irritated over nothing" I said thinking out loud.

"That could definitely be it- Hey did you have any movies in mind you wanted to see? Please don't make me watch Dirty Dancing again"

"Don't act like you don't like it Harrington, you stay awake through it more than I do" I teased. "But I suppose I won't make you watch that again" I bit the inside of my cheek thinking of movie titles I've seen in the past. "What about that one" I said snapping my fingers trying to get the name out. "The one with the kid from The Goonies?"

"The Lost Boys?"

"Yes! That's the one!" I said excitedly. "Robin said it was pretty good"

"It's a vampire one though are you okay with that?"

"I'm not afraid of vampires if that's what you're asking Steve" I said laughing. "I'm not a scaredy cat like you" I teased and I heard him scoff in response.

"I'm not a scaredy cat!" He protested. "You're the one who couldn't handle The shinning" He shot back, an audible smile across his face.

"Because it was just so ominous! I still have nightmares about that bloody elevator" I shuddered at the thought.

"Yeah that movie was a bit weird huh? I mean the bits we actually watched" He said trailing off.

The last time we had a so called movie night, Steve and I barely paid attention to the films we kept putting on. The facade of us actually watching them while I straddled his lap, his face buried in my neck as we rocked against each other. Steve and I hadn't had sex yet. I was too nervous being a virgin, and seeing as his dick could barely fit in my mouth I was afraid of having it between my legs. We did almost everything else, so I wasn't shy with being sexual with him, but going all the way seemed so daunting. People made it seem like such a big deal, and I guess it was, but I don't think having a dick in you should or would change you all that much as a person. Steve never rushed me on anything, and not a single word out of his mouth after I said 'stop' was negative or condescending. I had been with a few people before him, and being younger back then sex wasn't really something I wanted, I had barely explored myself let alone to let someone else explore me first, that didn't feel right. But eventually after figuring my own body out and what I liked it was easier to let myself feel good with someone else.

Now knowing I was going to stay with Steve for the whole weekend something in me told me that I was ready, and that I wanted to try. Butterflies flitted in my stomach and I had gotten so lost in my own thoughts I didn't realize that Steve had started speaking again. "So I figured that one, and then like, The Labyrinth, and maybe A Nightmare On Elm Street cause you still haven't seen that"

"You just want to get a scary movie so I'll hide into your chest"

"Yeah, yeah maybe I do"

"Oh and baby?" I said sweetly. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes. This was it.

"Yeah?"

"You have condoms right?"

He choked, the phone clattered, and I could hear robin laughing in the background. "Steve?"

"Hmm yeah? Hi I uh, yeah, I do, um yeah" He said breathlessly.

"Good" My heart was beating so hard I thought I might throw up. "See you at seven?"

"Seven yeah, s-should be good"

"Bye Stevie" I said hanging up the phone. I leaned my forehead against the cool wall of the kitchen, my hand still holding onto the phone as I attempted to control my breathing. "It'll be fine" I said out loud to myself. "And if it's shit, that's okay, everyones first time is different" I reminded myself. Pushing myself off and away from the wall I made my way upstairs to shower and pack my bag for the weekend.

The showering part was easy. I never felt like any body part had to be baby smooth to feel comfortable around Steve, he never minded a little hair, in fact he encouraged it. "If hair wasn't supposed to be there, it wouldn't be there" he had said to me the first time I showed a small bit of insecurity about it. It even drove him crazy when it peaked out of the sides of my bathing suit bottoms when I didn't have time to sharpen up my bikini line. What stressed me out today, was what I was going to wear and what I was going to bring. I had slept over at Steves countless of times, and he was over here just as often, but we had never spent the whole weekend together. Deciding to pack some basics, I shoved a pair of pj pants and shorts into my bag. Figured I'd give myself another option just incase. Not bothering to add a sleep shirt knowing I would just steal one of Steves. Hands lingering over my folded clothes I played with the strap of this very tight tank top I thought about bringing. It made my boobs look really good and I knew Steve would love it as much as I did. A small smile playing on my lips I slid the top over my head deciding to wear it with a pair of shorts. Steve and I weren't planning on going out anywhere after he picked me up, so the short walk from my front door to his car in this would be totally fine. Shoving an extra pair of underwear into my bag I zipped it up and dropped it at the end of my bed. Now all I had to do was wait.

Almost on the dot exactly I heard Steve lightly honk his horn to signal he was here. Bounding down the stairs and out the front door I threw my backpack in the direction of the car as I ran and jumped into Steves open arms, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Bending slightly at the knees he scooped me up bringing my thighs to his was it and holding me in place against him. His balance wobbling slightly, his back hitting the side of his car. "Hey princess" He said a little breathlessly.

"Hi baby" I said releasing the grip of my thighs signalling Steve to put me back down but never letting go of me. "I missed you" I said honestly, my hands tugging at the hair at the base of the back of his neck.

"I missed you more" He said leaning down to press a light kiss to my lips.

"I don't think so" I said sighing dreamily as I looked up at him. His hands traveling to my shoulders he flicked at the thin strap of the tank top I wore.

"I've never seen this one before" head tilting to the side as he continued to slid his finger up and down my shoulder, still under the strap.

"Figure I would save it for a special occasion" I said leaning back from him and reaching for my bag.

"Special occasion huh?" He said turning to open the car door for me.

"Maybe" I said shrugging and slipping into the passenger seat.

The drive to Steves was always short and sweet, giving me no time to continue over thinking which is what I was already doing.

"Alright, I'm gunna hop in the shower real quick, you go get comfy in bed" Steve said placing a small kiss to my temple before heading towards his bathroom.

Falling onto his bed I smiled. Taking a deep breath and reviling in his familiar smell that littered his sheets. I unbuttoned my jean shorts and tugged them off, throwing them onto the floor before crawling under Steves blanket, nestling into his pillow. I hummed in content. How was his bed so much comfier than mine? Settling deeper into his bed I let my eyes close, the soft echo of the shower lulling me into sleep.

"Baby?" Steves hand ran through my hair, moving it away from my face and neck.

"Hmm?" I opened my eyes, squinting at the light of his room. His hair was still damp, a few darkened spots on the shoulders of his t-shirt from lingering drips from his hair.

"You wanna keep sleeping or do you wanna get up?"

I stretched my arms above my head, and sat up slowly, licking my lips to get the moisture back into my dry mouth. "I didn't mean to fall asleep" I said rubbing my eyes. "Is it late? How long was I out for?"

"Not long, bout thirty minutes or so, however long I was in the shower for"

"I missed you" I said reaching my hands out towards him, opening and closing them in grabby hand motion.

He laughed before shifting further up the bed so I could wrap my arms around him. Crawling out of his blanket and into his lap I straddled him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "You didn't dream of me?" He asked quietly, his hands running up and down my back.

"Not this time" I sighed. I could hear his heart beat begin to quicken as I rested my head against his chest. Sitting back up I ran my hands along his shoulders, to his forearms, down to his wrist to where his hands settled on my waist. I looked up at him with a shy smile.

"Oh I know that look" He said with a chuckle.

"What look?" I said tilting my head to the side.

"That's the, 'I want you to ruin me' look" His hands shifting from my waist to hold my face with both hands. The warmth from them spreading across my cheeks and down my neck igniting the heat that sat in the pit of my stomach.

"I don't know what you're talking about Harrington" I said trying to play it off, avoiding his eyes.

"Oh really?" His voice low, one hand moving from my cheek down to the base of my throat. "If I slid my hand into your panties right now, how wet would you already be hm?" He mocked playfully. My hips twitched slightly at the change of tone in his voice. "Bet you've already ruined those cute little pink panties huh? Just being this close to me gets you all wound up doesn't it?" his thumb grazing the divot between my collarbones and throat. Shifting slightly his hard erection bumped against my crotch and I had to hold back the small whimper threatening to leave my mouth. "Don't hide those noises from me pretty girl"

"Steveeee" I whined, grinding my hips ever so slightly in attempts for some relief. His hands back at my waist, guiding my hips to continue rolling them against him.

"What is it baby?"

"Don't tease me" I whimpered with a pout.

"But you're so pretty when you get all desperate"

"I'm already desperate" I admitted, my eyes flicking up back to his for a moment. "I've been thinking about you all day" I rolled my hips a little harder agaisnt him, my head falling into this crook of his neck. I kissed softly at the exposed skin I could reach without moving the fabric of his shirt. I was too focus on my movements to try anything else.

"What did you think about?" Steve said, his breath hitching slightly.

"Your hands"

"What about them?" He encouraged.

"How they feel when they touch me. When they touch me everywhere" My words coming out almost as whispers, the coil in my stomach slowly growing, but not fast enough.  "Please Steve" I said leaning back to press my forehead against his. Small moans falling out of my mouth and into his.

"Please what baby?"

"Touch me?" I leaned back again to look at him, his pupils blown out; only the smallest sliver of his honey brown eyes visible.

Shifting so he was now hovering me, he pressed his lips to mine. Sloppy kisses, our mouths and cheeks covered in each others saliva as our hands chased each others bodies. Feeling them like it was the first and only time we'd get to be this close. Steve made quick work, his hands tugging at the sides of my underwear until I lifted my hips slightly for him to pull them off the rest of the way. He didn't hesitate before sliding his fingers between my folds, groaning at the wet slick that instantly covered his fingers.

"Oh my god" I hummed, my head rolling to the side.

"I was right" He chuckled. "Look at you, so pretty like this. Soaking and desperate for me to touch you" Fingers circling my clit his lips came back down, attaching themselves to me, and absorbing my moans. He teased my hole slightly with his middle finger, but never going in. I whined.

"Steve, please"

"What do you want?"

"Touch me" I said quickly.

"I am touching you princess" he smirked.

"Finger me" I said in a huff, no shame in how audible the desperation was in my voice. "I wanna cum"

"Well you don't need me for that" He threatened.

I shook my head back and forth. "No I want you to make me cum"

Please with my response his finger slid into me a second later. My back arching every so slightly.

"My pretty pretty girl" He cooed while leaning down to kiss my neck. Nipping and sucking lightly until he reached the top of my breasts, that were almost spilling from the tight fabric of my tank top. "Take this off for me yeah?" He asked. I sat up quickly, grabbing the bottom of my top and flung it over my head and off to the side. He continued kissing my chest, his mouth leaving wet kisses a long the doughy skin until taking one of my nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking at it lightly. He added a second finger and I clenched around him instantly. Pulling up away from my chest he began curling his fingers up into me, and brought his other hand down to continue rubbing circles on my clit.

"F-fuck Steve" I spat.

"Feels good?" He asked.

"So fucking good baby, you always m-make me feel s-so good"

"Awe my poor baby can barely get her words out" He teased, pumping his fingers a little faster, and I knew I wouldn't be able to last much longer. Taking all of my strength to reach my hands down and into Steves to pull them from me, on the brink of my orgasm.

"What, what's wrong?" Steve said searching my face.

"N-Nothing, I wanna cum, um, on your cock" I said shyly.

Steves face reddened and he leaned forward to give me a quick soft kiss. "Not yet, I want you to cum on my fingers first, and then we can try okay?"

I nodded, my breath still rapid as he placed his fingers back into me. His fingers slipping into me almost easier this time. "Fuck look at the way you take my fingers baby" he said watching his movements, his fingers pumping in and out of me, curling up into my g-spot. "C'mon baby, I know you're close, cum on my fingers like you wanna cum on my cock" His movements never faltering as the coil in my stomach began to tighten, until my back arched off of his bed.

"Oh my god, just like that, please don't stop, please, please, don't stop" I begged, my hands fisting the fabric of his sheets beneath me.

"I won't baby, cum for me, you're right there"

Tingling heat soared through my body, through my stomach until that coil snapped and I was cumming around Steves fingers just like he wanted. Lewd whimpers and moans escaping me as Steve continued his moments until the high of my orgasm slowed. Sitting up I leaned forward until I reached the him of Steves sweatpants. My hands fumbling as I tried to free him from the restraints of the fabric. He grabbed my hands. "Hey, hey, slow down" He said softly.

"I still want" I swallowed, glancing slightly at his bedside table where I knew he kept his condoms. "I still want to try"

"You sure? We don't have to"

"I want to, I'm ready"

"Tell me to stop at any point okay?" He said holding my face in his hands.

I nodded. "I promise"

Leaning over to the table, he opened the small drawer and pulled out the box of condoms, ripping the cardboard open and taking one of the foil packages out and placing it next to us. He got up and walked towards the bathroom bringing back two towels. I raised my eyebrow.

"Just incase there's a little blood" He said reassuringly. Folding one in half, he placed it on his bed and tapped it so I would sit on it.

Removing his sweat pants and boxers and shirt he pumped his length a few times before tearing the foil packaging and removed the slippery condom from it. He rolled it onto himself and I watched intently, for when I was able to do it for him. He situated himself between my legs, rubbing the tip of his dick against my wet folds. "Here gimme one of your hands" He said reaching forward. Taking my hand into his he interlocked our fingers as he kneeled between my legs, his other hand directing his dick against me. "Ready?" he asked.

And I nodded.

"Verbal confirmation please" He said with a pleading look.

"Yes Steve, I'm ready"

He lined himself up and began to push into me slightly. Instantly I let out a hiss, my hand coming out to press against his abdomen. "F-fuck" I stuttered. It hurt. Way more than I thought it was going to.

"Want me to stop?"

"No, no, just" I took a deep breath and closing my eyes. "Just go slow"

He continued ever so slightly, pushing in by millimetres, stopping with each hiss and hitch of my breath. Pushing a little more I felt the rest of his tip slip into me and I tipped my head up slightly with a "Fuck" muttered through my teeth. My hand tight around Steves, and I knew I would leave him with tiny crescent shaped nail imprints in his skin.

"Just keep breathing baby, you're doing so well" His breath was ragged and I could tell it was difficult for him to be so slow, but I appreciated it so much.

My forehead scrunched and my eyes closed tightly I focused on my breathing until Steve tapped my head lightly. "How we doing in there?" I could hear the smile in his voice. I was afraid to open my eyes, knowing if I did tears would roll down from the pain. "Okay" I said quietly. "Keep going" and he did. So slowly, it felt like time had slowed with each push of his cock, stretching me painfully. I started breathing through my nose and out through my mouth.

"Do you want to stop?" Steve asked again.

"No? Yes? I don't know"

Steve sat up slightly, not removing himself just yet from me. "Look at me baby"

Reluctantly I opened my eyes, and the tears that were held behind my closed lids slipped out and down my temples with ease. "Talk to me" He said rubbing his thumb against the skin on my hip in soothing circles.

"It hurts" I choked. "I-I thought it would be better" A small sob bubbled in my chest.

"I'm gunna pull out okay?"

"No no, don't" I said whimpering, trying to pull him back to me but hissed when I made him move a little deeper into me.

"Baby please? We can try again, this was good for a first try, I don't want you crying in pain under me"

"Just... Is it okay if you put it all in? Then we can stop"

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yeah, please? Just that"

"Okay" he removed his hand from my tight grasp and moved so he was leaning down more towards me. "Hold onto me if you need to okay?"

I nodded, my hands resting on his shoulders. He began again, slowly pushing himself into me, small whimpers from my mouth echoing into his skin. "So close baby, you're doing so good" he praised. With a slight grunt I felt him bottom out, his rough pubic hair rubbed against mine. "Fuuuuuck, you feel so good baby, you did so good, look how well you're hugging onto my cock baby"

We stayed like that for a moment, his head now tucked into my shoulder and my arms firmly wrapped around his neck.

"No more, I'm done" I whispered.

"Okay baby" he said giving me small kisses as he leaned back up. "Just keep breathing for me okay?" He slowly pulled back out, and it still hurt, but not as much as it did going in. When he was fully out I glanced down at him, the condom slightly pink with blood. My bottom lip quivered as I tried to hold back my tears.

"Baby it's okay" Steve said. "Lemme get this off, and I'll clean you up okay?" He made quick with his movements, discarding the condom into the trash, and slipping his boxers and sweat pants back on. I curled up into a ball, sobbing into my hands. "C'mere" Steve said quietly after tugging his shirt back over his head, pulling me into his chest. I held onto him, the fabric of his t-shirt tucked tightly into the balls of my fists as I cried into him. He pulled his blanket back up over me and traced his finger tips against my bare back soothing me. "You're okay" he repeated.

After a few quiet moments, the grip I had on his shirt loosened and my breathing relaxed. Tilting my head I looked up at Steve. His eyes were closed and maybe he sensed me already looking at him because his eyes opened and immediately met mine. He smiled.

"I'm sorry" I said, new tears threatening to fall.

"You have nothing to be sorry for"

"But, you didn't get to finish, and it was shit, it wasn't even sex"

"When has me finishing ever been a priority? Cumming is just a bonus, as long as we're both having fun, and getting some sort of pleasure out of whatever we're doing, then I'm happy babe" he said tucking a bit of hair behind my ear. "What's got you so upset about it?"

"I thought it would have been better, I knew it wouldn't be great, but everyone makes it seem like it's this insane thing, and it was just shit" Angry tears fell down my cheeks as I sat back up, crossing my legs in front of me. "I had it all planned out in my head, and for it to just be the complete opposite sucks"

"You know my first time wasn't that great either"

"Really? I don't think we've ever talked about it"

"I don't think it ever came up, but it was weird" He laughed a little. "All the motions of sex were there, but I had no idea what I was doing, and this older girl just took full control, and I think I blacked out at one point cause then it was over and I was putting my clothes back on and I never saw her again"

"How old were you?"

"Uh like 14 I think? Too young that's for sure, I didn't even really know what happened until I got older" He sighed. "Sex didn't really get good until the end of high school, but then I met you and I realized I liked making you cum more than even the thought of sex" He toothy smile spreading across his face. "Although I will tell you, your pussy felt amazing"

I rolled my eyes and smacked his arm. "So much for that nice little moment" I sniffled lightly, wiping away the last remnants of my tears.

"Wanna hop in the shower with me? I'll get you all cleaned up and we can order pizza and start our little movie marathon"

I blushed. Steve really was amazing, he went into caregiver mode so effortlessly and it made my heart squeeze.

"Yeah, that would be nice" I said quietly.

"And baby?" He said. "Everyones first time is different, and they're not all perfect like they are in the movies, it sometimes takes time and practice, but we'll get there okay?"

I pouted, looking down at my hands.

"Hey, no pouting, it's all a learning process" He tilted my chin up to look at him. "It'll get better" he gave me a light kiss on the lips. "I Promise"

[enchantestuff]

rekindle - rbr sebastian vettel

in which after a long time apart, you and Sebastian rekindle your love for one another in the least romantic place you could think of - a sweaty, packed nightclub

NOT MY GIF!!

warnings: public sex (ofc), fingering, teasing, lowkey angst at the start, nicknames, uncomfy ex, sebastain Vettel deserves a warning himself, happy sinning

taglist: @theringers​ @forestviper201 @icemanhoneybadger​ @formulamei @findthelightinyourlife

3.1k words

You smirked as your eyes met from across the club for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You hadn't seen him in over a year, the last time you were even in the same country as him had ended up with you climbing into a taxi, speeding away to the airport and him standing half naked in his driveway, wishing for the car to turn around and end his worst nightmare.

The relationship between you and Sebastsian was a complicated one to say the least. You had grown up with each other, your families vacationed together every second summer and you spent many christmases together. It was only when you got older that you started to really appreciate Sebastian.

Daydreams of what it would be like to spend a night in bed with him began to fill your free moments. Images of the two of you tangled in bed was once something that you could only dream about, but that dream certainly became a reality one unforgettable night in Italy.

It was during a celebratory dinner after yet another win that he had leaned over to talk to you. His lips brushed against the side of your neck and goosebumps had risen all over your skin, you cursed yourself for your reaction but soon began praising your childish antics once Sebastian finally caught onto how you felt about him.

The few words of “do i make you nervous, liebe?” led to the two of you making out in the corridor. That celebratory dinner escalated to a friends with benefits situation which set off a more than complicated relationship between the two of you where feelings were of course present, but stubbornness from both sides refused to let them be out in the open.

Your feelings for one another eventually escaped when he got into a nasty crash in the middle of a race. You ran up to him the minute he stormed into the garage, tears welling in your eyes as you crushed into a hug. He held you with just as much force and whispered into your ear what you had been waiting for months to hear.

He told you that you had been the only thing on his mind when he crashed into the wall and he didn't want to go a minute longer without telling you how he really felt about you

As much as you wanted things to be great with Sebastain, your relationship was unfortunately not plain sailing from there and the media had a bring role to play in your downfall. They wouldn't leave him or you alone, constantly following the two of you wherever you went and even going as far as sending mail to your shared home. It was the media that drove you to leave the man you adored and move to another country in search for a new career and a new life away from the public eye.

You stared at him now, unable to tear your eyes away from his beautiful frame. He looked as good as ever and you knew deep down that you would probably never see him again. So against your brain telling you not to, you engraved every detail of his face into your memory, not wanting to let him go just yet.

You felt horrible for leaving him and strongly believed that he hated you for abandoning him. You wouldn't have blamed him if he did, you sometimes hated yourself for that decision. So you kept your distance from him all night, repeatedly telling yourself that if he did not harbor any bad emotions towards you, then he would approach you himself.

To tell the truth, you were too embarrassed to go up to him yourself, too full of guilt to face him after what you had done. But when he made eye contact with you as he pulled a girl into his body, something inside you snapped and you found yourself being dragged into an all too familiar game of cat and mouse with him.

Your night of teasing had officially begun the minute he kissed the brunette's neck, refusing to break your stare as his hands ran up and down her hips. You decided it was your turn to reciprocate the teasing and pulled a random, but still handsome, man towards you to dance. Holding your gaze with him, you allowed the man to grip onto your hips and sway from side to side. Your ass pressing against him with every beat of the music.

You maintained eye contact with him as he chatted with multiple women, his hands resting dangerously low on their backs as he smirked in your direction, you hated how much you loved his little games.

You decided to take a dance break and stepped away from the claustrophobic dance floor. Moving towards the less packed bar, you leaned against the contour top as you ordered yet another drink. The feeling of hands wrapping around your hips didn’t surprise you, nor did the hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. You were used to the warmth of Seb’s body by now and after so much time apart, you still recognized his touch.

“Quite a show you put on back there,” he muttered, gesturing to the bartender for another drink before turning his attention back towards you. You kept your face forward, staring at the variety of liquor stacked on the shelves as Sebastian flirted with you in your ear. He was still positioned behind you, which you saw as the perfect opportunity to press your ass against his crotch.

The tightening of his grip only fueled you to press yourself further into him in hopes that you would emit an even stronger reaction from him, and boy did you get what you wanted. One of his hands rested underneath your breast and as he emitting a small amount of pressure against you, he forced you into him.

No longer leaning against the counter, you could now feel the entirety of his body pressed against you. Every vein and muscle. Every curve and dent of his body, Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling your bum against him.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now, love, or are you really that fucking oblivous?”

You twisted your head to finally look at him, momentarily taken aback by his pure beauty before regaining your confidence again. “That depends,” you hummed, purposely brushing your lips against his neck as you spoke, “Is it working?”

His hold on you tightened and somehow he pulled you even closer to him, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his hardened cock. “Someones excited,” you smiled, immediately freezing up when you caught sight of your ex boyfriend standing next to you.

He was the man you had been with before Seb and it was safe to say he had completely broken your heart.

Confusion immediately filled Sebs body at your reaction, fearful he had done something wrong he moved to stand beside you, holding onto your bicep as he looked you in your eyes. “Are you alright, darling?” he questioned, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he searched your face for any indication of pain.

“Yeah its - “

“Y/N! Great to see you.” Dread immediately filled your body at the infamous voice, you felt yourself go rigid in Sebastian's grip and desperately wished for your ex to leave the two of you alone.

“Who's this douche?” Seb whispered in your ear, trying to relive some of your tension and comfort you in what seemed to be a terribly uncomfortable situation.

“Brad, hey,” you muttered, you grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand that was previously sprawled on the bar countertop, using the warmth of his touch as a confidence booster to finally turn around and face the brutal ex.

“How have you been?” he asked, refusing to even glance at the Redbull driver next to you, focusing his hungry gaze on you and you only.

You sighed deeply at his attempt of small talk. Could he not just say hello and move on? Did he really need to interrupt your night.

Sebastian kept a close eye on you throughout your short conversation. A sense of protectiveness filled him at your rigid stance, he knew you could handle the situation yourself but he couldn't help but want to aid you. He felt the need to get involved. So he did.

He didn’t let you answer the man's next question of what you had recently been up to, instead he grabbed hold of the side of your face, his fingers dipping into the nape of your neck as he pulled you into him. He grinned smugly at the worried glance you threw his way before connecting your lips together.

The kiss was hesitant at first.

Taking into account this was your first shared kiss together since the breakup, it felt both natural and unusual to be kissing him again, but as the seconds passed you found yourself relaxing in his hold and began kissing him back with much more force.

You lost yourself in the moment, the idea of your ex boyfriend watching you make out with your other ex boyfriend didn't even cross your mind. You solely focused on the way Sebastian’s lips felt against yours after such a long time apart. He was addicting.

Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, blushing slightly at the sheepish look he threw your exes way. “What were you saying, mate?” he confidently asked.

The feeling of his palm burned against your cheek and you couldn't even bring yourself to look at Brad, but you didn't need to as he just stumbled away, clearly intimidated by Sebastian.

There was no need for you to say anything to Seb - if the way you were teasing him earlier on in the evening was of no indication to how you felt about him - then the lustful look you were giving him now certainly was.

He immediately pulled you back into him, your lips reconnecting in a lustful kiss. With no more awkwardness surrounding the two of you, you found yourself enjoying it even more.

Moving one of his hands down your body, Sebastian forcefully squeezed your bum which emitted a gasp from you, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss. He pressed his body against yours and your hands raked across it, feeling his muscles flex against your hands.

You moaned into his mouth the minute he dug his hips into you, the feeling of his body so close to you bringing you back to when the two of you dated. Confusion filled you when he pulled away, ending your lovely make out session and disappointing you tremendously. “Don't start what you can't finish, love” he warned, leaning down to scatter kisses across your chest, nipping and licking at every exposed area.

“Who says I can't finish this?” you remarked, grinning at the way his eyebrows rose at your statement.

“Look around us, darling” he stood up straighter, craning his neck to glance from side to side, taking into account the multiple people surrounding the two of you. Hundreds of people filled the room, hundreds of eyes that could possibly witness something. Hundreds of reasons why the two of you shouldn't get ahead of yourselves. But then again, when he looked back at you and the playful pout that crossed your features - he found himself making up a hundred different reasons as to why it was such a brilliant idea.

“But then again,” he continued, leaning closer to you in order to whisper in your ear, “that's never stopped us before.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, images flashing through your mind of previous encounters the two of you had in the most inappropriate areas. Cutting your daydream short, Sebastian grabbed hold of your hand and guided you up the stairs to the more secluded vip area.

The bouncer merily glanced at Sebastian before lifting the red velvet rope and letting the two of you in. Nodding a small thanks to the man, he continued his journey into the dimly lit area, a content hum leaving his lips at the sight of a small booth in the corner.

He sat down on the plush seats and you fell down to sit on top of him, the lower half of your body covered by the wooden table in front of you. Sebastian wasted no time in kissing your neck, unable to detach himself from your skin for more than a few moments.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, watching the small group of people ahead of you dancing and laughing at each other caused a blush to quickly creep up your cheeks. The thought if anyone witnessing your antics both embarrassing and exciting you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, liebe?” Seb questioned, he placed his finger on your cheek and forced you to look at him as he spoke. “Because once we start, I won't be able to stop.”

“And why would I ever want you to stop?” you shot back, pressing your bum further into him to prove your point. Sebs eyes scanned the area, having seemingly decided the risk of getting caught was worth it, he ran his fingers up your thigh, under your skirt and into your underwear.

His other hand trailed the opposite direction, moving up your body to gently squeeze your breast. You arched your back at the sensation, your ass moving further into him and a harsh squeeze being delivered as a result.

Slipping a finger into you, his hand flew away from your breast to clamp over your mouth, muffling the sudden moan that escaped you. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. There's people around us,” he reminded.

He littered gentle kisses up your neck and you could feel his smirk against your skin at the shaky breath you let out the minute he slipped a second finger into you. “I don't think anyone else deserves to hear your moans, darling.”

You hummed against his hand, wetness pooling at his words and your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb began to circle your clit. “Move up for a second, liebe,” he demanded once he removed his fingers from you. Having no other option but to comply, you braced your hands against the table and stood up on shaky legs. You patiently waited as Sebastain undid his belt, the sound of the metal coming undone bringing a newfound wetness to your core.

“Ready?” he questioned, moving his hand up and down your thigh to comfort you. You nodded your head, biting harshly on your lip, you quickly glanced behind you and yet another shaky breath tumbled from your lips at the sight you beheld.

Sebastain was sprawled across the couch with his dick barely covered by your body. The sight of him shamelessly sitting there did something to you and before you lost your confidence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto him.

“Keep quiet now,” he reminded once you took all of him in. Your hands gripped onto the table in front of you, your knuckles quickie turning white as you used it as leverage to start moving.

The sound of your skin hitting against sebastians was muffled by the laughter of the crowd and the loudness of the msic booming across the grand club. “I'm trying,” you grunted.

You slowly bounced on him, trying to keep your movements small and inconspicuous to the people around you. But Sebastian could only last so long without needing to take over. A moan accidentally escaped you once he began thrusting his own hips upwards to meet yours. In response to your foolishness, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking not so gently on it as a warning and forcing you to look at the dim lights hanging above you instead of the people ahead of you.

Holding onto your body he quickly steadied you, forcing you to halt your movements as a random man walked up to the two of you. You shifted in his hold and attempted to reposition yourself to look more natural towards the stranger. You just wanted it to seem like you were cuddling the driver, not bouncing on his dick.

One of your arms wrapped around his neck while the other laid on his chest. You spared a quick glance downwards, making sure your skirt covered everything before looking back up at the man. Sebastian greeted him, admittedly not poilelty, but he greeted him nevertheless. It only took a few seconds for the two of you to realise he was a fan and by the looks of it, would do anything to hold a conversation with the Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't help but move on his lap, the need for friction overwhelming you after staying put for several minutes. You slowly began rolling your hips, your heart racing at the sudden release of pressure and also at the fact you were grinding on him with a fan of his only a few feet away.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying desperately to pay attention to the man in front of him and not on how good you felt clenching around him. His hips unintentionally runted up into you, muttering a quick curse under his breath he grimaced at the man, cutting his sentence short as he gestured towards you. “If you wouldn't mind,” he sympathetically commented.

“Right, right sorry,” he mumbled, “Enjoy your night.”

He soon scrambled away from view and Sebastian began carelessly thrusting into you again. You returned to your original position, now resting your head against the table, thankful for the pleasure filling your whole body. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on the nape of your neck and were almost certain you looked a mess but you couldn't have cared as you got nearer and nearer to your peak.

This new angle allowed Sebastian to take control of your activities. He guided your hips back and forth, not paying attention to the movement of the table nor the attention that the two of you could possibly bring your way. All he wanted was to bring you to your release. “Are you going to cum for me, darling?” he whispered. You nodded against the table, the coolness of the wood reliving your flushed cheeks as you felt the knot begin to release in your stomach.

You moved your hand to grip onto his thigh, “I'm gonna-” you mumbled, unable to finish your sentence as he gripped onto the back of your neck and forced you to sit up straight. His fingers immediately fell down your throat in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. You whimpered loudly at his show of dominance, your attempts to keep quiet failing profusely as he hurried his movements.

His fingers moved further down your throat as your walls clenched around him. Before you knew it you were spilling yourself against Sebastain. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head and heat filling your body as he followed in your actions.

[dc418writes]

•|One Man’s Trash…|•

✨Pairing✨: Dennis BakerxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: You’ve got a bit of a soft spot for one of your regulars

⚠️: mention of divorce, talks of intimacy (including said statement of 🍆👀 lol), mention of pregnancy, small instance of harassment, implications of mental/emotional abuse, mostly fluff

A/N🎙: So this was inspired by @syntheticavenger and her Dennis fic which is amazing and so wonderfully written, so please go read it if you haven’t. I thought this would be a cute idea and I hope you guys like it☺️! Also don’t judge me for writing about this hamburger out the toilet eating man; for the sake of this story that was a drunk moment lol.

Ridding the circular table of the small sprinkles of sugar and drops of coffee left by the previous customer, you can’t control the sympathetic sigh that passes your lips at the sight of your more known customer in the corner. He typically came with his wife, but you’d noticed for a couple months she came less and less until she didn’t show at all. That typically wasn’t a good sign.

Especially with his once cheerful face falling to a mix of sorrow and disappointment. Maybe even shame.

“So, think the Dodgers are goin’ all the way this year?,” you ask, now close enough to notice the newspaper spread in front of him open to the sports section.

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked if you thought the Dodgers would make it to the World Series, since you’re uh on the sports page.”

“Oh! Um I’m not really into sports,” he nervously chuckles pushing his large frames higher on his nose. “Really just looking at the cartoons over here.”

“Aw it’s Peanuts,” you smile looking over the black and white drawings depicting Snoopy and Woodstock in another one of their adventures. “My dad used to cut them out and put it with my lunch when I was little.” Although brief, the soft smile that graced his lips has your heart warming as well knowing you’d brightened his day even if just for a moment.

And surprisingly, you were hoping you could do it again, or as many times needed to turn his recent melancholy mood.

“My wi-I mean ex wife, used to complain I was hogging the paper for only wanting to look at silly, childish drawings. It’s the first time I’ve looked at them in three years.” You always did get this feeling whenever she’d step in the bakery that she’d honestly rather be somewhere else—anywhere really. If it was raining, she’d make poor Dennis brave the strong winds and harsh droplets to pick up their dozen of cupcakes. She wouldn’t even help with opening the car door for him, instead looking down at her phone as he performed a bit of a balancing act with the cupcakes and coffees.

When Dennis would order both of their usuals; his a standard hazelnut iced coffee, hers a caramel latte with soy, light sugar, and two full shots of espresso exactly, she seemed annoyed. Crossing her arms when Dennis would try to sweetly grasp her hand as they waited. Slender fingers tapping her phone screen while her foot impatiently tapped on the wooden floor below. As soon as their order was called, she quickly grabbed her drink scurrying through the front door without so much as a “thanks” let alone a tip.

With an embarrassed tilt to his lips cringing as she called for him to hurry up because she had more important things to do, he’d slide a $10 bill into the tip jar as he said a soft “thank you.” You felt bad for thinking it, but he deserved better. Someone who didn’t treat him like a burden or like that pesky mosquito that just wouldn’t leave you alone. Albeit nerdy, he was caring, kind, incredibly sweet to anyone around, and should be loved for all he was.

“Well by all means take as long as you want,” you smile. “We get a good amount delivered every day so you never have to worry about hogging here.”

Being called over by another customer, you missed the blush that crept along his cheeks just as pink as the polo shirt he wore. The way his eyes shyly followed you to your new table, occasionally glancing your direction time after admiring how sweet you always were to every customer. From then on, he frequented the shop more often coming late morning/early afternoon. He’d sit somewhat far off with his coffee and newspaper at first, but eventually built enough courage—from your friendly smile and pleasant small talk—to sit at the table nearest to the pick up area. A prime location to talk with you between orders and smell the mix of berries and citrus from your perfume when the fan would hit you just right, causing an intoxicating breeze to occupy his nostrils.

“Which one is it this time?,” you cheerily ask leaning over the counter as if you could see the small drawings on the paper. It took Dennis a moment to register what you were asking with your chest casually pushed forward and sunlight shining on your delicate skin just right. He even had to remember to breathe quickly looking down at the paper while clearing his throat.

“Um it’s Charlie this time. He stopped at Lucy’s lemonade stand and she tricked him by charging him more. Snoopy knocked down the fake sign though so he found out just as he gave her the money.”

“Lucy’s still being mean to poor Charles,” you giggle with a light shake of your head.

“Y-Yea, I don’t think that’ll ever change,” Dennis briefly laughs along with you before his nerves start getting the best of him. Well, again.

For a couple of weeks now he’d wanted to see if maybe you’d like to have a conversation outside the coffee shop. Perhaps even over dinner or lunch. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable though, or potentially upset you thinking all the talks and sweet exchanges were just to get in your pants. You were the closest friend he had right now, and he’d hate to lose that.

“H-Hey, um Y/N?”

“Yea?”

He nervously wipes his palms on the front of his khakis as he stands, carefully approaching the bar with fingers fidgeting by his sides.

“Everything okay?,” you ask a bit concerned from the redness around his neck and ears. Dennis practiced this at home many times knowing exactly what he’d say and be able to calmly walk up to you and ask you out. He didn’t take into account the pressure of the actual execution and you staring attentively at him with those eyes he could never look too long in before getting lost.

“Yea! Yea everything’s fine. But um s-speaking of change-,”

“Afternoon sunshine,” a man interrupts lightly bumping into Dennis on his way to the counter where you both stood. Taller, more muscular, and definitely more stylish than Dennis, he was worried at first glance fearing that this mystery man would steal you away. Or had already done so.

But from the roll of your eyes—a key sign of your annoyance he’d come to learn—he felt the lump in his throat slowly dissolve.

“I’m working Cannon.”

“Not right now,” he smirks. With his dazzling smile and clear, golden brown skin, anyone could assume he was a model. And they probably did from the cocky way he carried himself and strode about, no doubt letting the compliments boost his ego and inflate his head.

“Hey, you mind? Kinda in my space,” Cannon directs towards Dennis shooing him away with the tilt of his head back towards the door.

“S-Sorry.” He gave the two space, but something inside told him not to go too far away. Was it his slight jealousy? His own intuition telling him to be aware? Maybe both.

“So sunshine-,”

“Please don’t call me that,” you state looking past him to take the order of the older woman waiting behind him.

“Why? You know you’ll always be my sunshine.”

“Not after you slept with my cousin in my bed. Speaking of, she know you’re down here?” He manages to catch your hand after giving the customer her chamomile tea and packs of honey, pinning your smaller hand to the counter with no escape.

“That’s in the past and was admittedly a mistake. Let me show you how different things’ll be now.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Cmon Y/N, don’t act like you haven’t been thinking of me,” he pouts, grip growing a bit tighter as you try to get away.

“I’m not acting, now let go Cannon.”

“Still keeping up with this hard to get game? Starting to get a bit old sunshine.”

“Leave her alone.”

Both of you turn to see Dennis, now standing closer and appearing to not really know how to hold his arms going back and forth from folding them in front of his chest to letting them hang at his sides. You appreciated him for trying to stick up for you, but sweet Dennis really didn’t know what he was getting himself into. “Dennis don’t worry about me, I can handle it.”

“Yea Dennis, she’s fine,” he grins bringing your hand to his lips placing a kiss to your knuckles. The whole time holding eye contact with your, now angry, friend. “Plus this doesn’t really concern you.”

“If it’s pertaining to her it does.”

You couldn’t help but smile hearing his words and how he wanted to protect you. But at the release of your hand as Cannon stood sizing up this new challenger, your heart raced quickly going around the counter to stand between the two.

“You her new man huh?”

“N-No we’re uh just friends.”

“But you want to be. Don’t you? Why you’re trying to prove yourself as some saving knight so she has no choice but to fall head over heels for you?”

“Cannon enough, just get out.”

“Nah he wants a fight, then go ahead Dennis. I’ll even give you first shot,” he smirks with arms out giving him said free range to throw the first punch.

“I-I don’t want to fight. Just leave her alone, okay? S-She doesn’t want you anymore, m-move on to s-someone else.”

His nerves were at an all time high not knowing what would happen next. Whether Cannon would come to his senses and leave or become angrier that he wasn’t getting his way. Plus your back against his chest wasn’t helping his heart rate as you attempted to shield him.

Looking between the two of you, there’s a moment of silence before he jumps towards Dennis faking as if he were about to throw a punch clearly catching both of you off guard. You slightly flinched while poor Dennis cowered so hard his shoe slipped against the hardwood floor making him fall backwards; smacking his elbow against the counter in the process. Cannon laughed to himself watching you kneel next to him, observing his reddened elbow in your hands to make sure he was okay.

“You know my number sunshine,” he winks haughtily walking out of the little coffee shop as if nothing happened. The few customers you had remaining immediately coming over to ask if you and Dennis were okay, or needed them to call the police to which you politely declined.

“It’s starting to swell, maybe we need to go to the hospital.”

“No I’m fine,” he hissed holding his arm closer to him, not daring to extend it. “Probably just need to ice it.”

“And what if it’s more? I really think you need to see a doctor.”

He knew you were right. The way his elbow uncomfortably throbbed and felt stiff didn’t seem like a good sign. He was embarrassed though, not being able to stand tough against your ex and be that protector he always wanted to be. Something else his ex-wife chastised him for.

“A rat has more fight in him than you.”

“How did I end up with someone so…weak?”

“Some way to stand up for you,” he laughs to himself as you help him stand to his feet. “Then again I should’ve known better. Tough is definitely not part of my DNA.”

“You stayed and stepped in when you knew I was uncomfortable and, although you may not think so, protected me from Cannon trying anything more. When he first told you to leave, you could’ve done that and left me to fend for myself but you didn’t. And I’m very appreciative for everything you did.” Leaning forward, your watermelon lips meet his warm cheek making it hotter from the sensation along his skin he’d dreamed about many nights. They were just as soft as he’d thought and selfishly, he wanted to ask for another so his lips wouldn’t feel left out. Instead though, he softly smiled shyly looking down tapping the fingers of his good arm against his opposite upper arm.

“Y-You’re welcome.”

———

“Sweetheart let me know if you get tired. I can get the scooter for you.”

“Dennis I promise I’ll be fine, we’re only getting a few things,” you giggle as you both walk through the busy supermarket. “Plus the doctor said I should be staying active.”

“True, but she also said not to over exert yourself,” he counters kissing your temple as you roll your eyes.

“You worry too much.”

“No, I just love you so much. There’s a difference sweetheart,” he winks as you reach the pharmacy. It wasn’t too long of a line, but there were two people waiting ahead of you and Dennis knew with your hunger and decreased patience, the next few minutes may not be fun for you.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get the ice cream? I’ll get your inhaler so you don’t have to stand in line.”

“You sure?”

“Yea it’s okay. You go ahead,” he warmly smiles gently squeezing your hand.

“Okay, I’m gonna find the bathroom first because I definitely feel my bladder being squeezed.”

Dennis can’t help smiling to himself watching you waddle away as fast as you could, hand on your belly trying to avoid an accident—well, another one. The pharmacist even had to call out to him with a “sir?” to bring his attention back.

“Sorry, pickup for Y/N Baker.” He’d never get tired of that name rolling off his lips.

“Dennis?,” he hears making him turn around to the last person he expected to see. Six years had passed since the last time he saw her, so he honestly figured she’d moved away and no doubt moved on.

“Susan…hi.”

He appeared the same since she watched him take his things out their formerly shared home all those years ago, except for his more modern looking black frames over his eyes. He clearly also had some change in style standing in a white tee, black joggers, and sneakers. With her he always wore khakis. Would probably even wear them to bed if they were soft enough.

“Y-You’re not in khakis,” she awkwardly smiles.

“Oh um yea. I still have a couple pairs, but these are a bit more comfortable. My wife bought them for me.”

“Wait…your wife?”

As if hearing your name, you appeared smiling beside Dennis with a basket of three different pints of ice cream and a couple bags of chips excited to show him what you’d found. “Honey look, they have new flavors! I couldn’t choose so I got them both plus our usual.”

“Sounds great! Um sweetheart I want to introduce you to-,”

“Susan. The ex-wife,” you finish for him snuggling closer into his side.

“Lovely to meet you,” she smiles. You can’t say the one you give back is genuine. “And I see congratulations are in order!”

Instinctively his hand finds your swollen belly, smile widening as it gently grazes up and down. “Thanks, we’re beyond excited to meet them.”

“Them?,” she repeats, wildly blinking and looking even dumber than you already knew she was.

“Yea, twins. Boy and girl.”

“Looks like there’s no bad penis over here after all,” you add with your fakest smile making sure the words stung just the same when she told them to Dennis.

From the way she looked down fumbling with the reusable bag in her hands, you achieved your goal.

“Well,” she clears her throat meeting both of your eyes again. “It looks like you’re doing just fine.”

“I am, really more than that actually. I’ve never been happier.” His lips on the top of your head leave you smiling to yourself, and it’s the final nail in the coffin sending Susan down the river and completely out of Dennis’ life. She couldn’t lie it was tough to hear, and honestly a bit confusing how Dennis managed to move on before her.

“I’m glad. Really I wish you both continued happiness.”

“Thank you. Well, we need to be going now so have good night,” you state with one final fabricated smile before pulling your husband along with you not giving her a chance to say anything further.

“Sweetheart, you promised you’d be nice if you ever ran into her,” Dennis whispers in your ear as you place the basket on the conveyor belt.

“That was before my emotions were dictated by two babies who do not like the lady who was very mean to daddy. And may I remind him was almost the reason said babies were not conceived.”

As can be expected, being continually berated can have lasting effects on one’s mind. You began trying to erase those words of doubt and criticism when you started dating—and before that even when you were still friends—but his problems with intimacy lasted the longest. Fearing that he couldn’t please you just as he couldn’t seem to do with Susan.

Dennis was so gracious for your patience as he worked through everything and that you stuck beside him. From the days he just wanted to hold you, or be held, to the days he felt a bit more daring wanting to try something from the list of your collective kinks. You supported him every step of the way doing whatever you could.

“Do not blame our unborn children on your tendency to be over-protective,” he grins pecking your neck just as the cashier tallies your total.

Collecting your groceries and journeying back to your car hand in hand, your eyes never leave the man beside you adoringly watching him safely maneuver the mini SUV through traffic while humming to the radio.

“Is there something on my face?,” he asks once stopped at a red light making you giggle.

“No, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“…did you mean it when you said this is the happiest you’ve ever been?,” you ask, hand comfortably gliding along the base of your growing abdomen.

“Of course. More than you’ll ever know sweetheart.”

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