#trying to figure out the colors on this one was. so awful

[misswynters]

Ma Meilleure Amour

featuring. ekko x fem!reader

a/n. doing my duty as a writer to fill the ekko tag with fics of him only (it’s translated to my best love)

inspired by. the song Ma Meilleure Ennemie and the scene with ekko and jinx in act iii (listen to it while reading)

Everything felt different. The streets of Zaun had the ever-present haze of smog seem softer, its grim edge dulled by the warm hum of neon lights. The streets bustled with life, as they always did, but the night gave the chaos a certain charm. The glow of green and pink signs reflected off damp cobblestones, while the occasional flicker of a malfunctioning lamp sent ripples of color through shallow puddles.

You walked side by side with Ekko, your steps slow and aimless, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn’t, of course. With how Zaun always had a way of reminding you that the clock never stopped ticking. But right now, under the swirl of lights and the faint hiss of steam vents, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

Ekko’s hand brushed against yours every so often, and though he wasn’t one to initiate touch easily, you could tell he didn’t mind the closeness. He always had this way of being effortlessly cool, his swagger and wit making it seem like nothing fazed him. But you knew him better than most. You saw the weight he carried, the pressure of being a leader, a fighter, and a kid all at once. And tonight, you were determined to remind him what it felt like to just…be.

“Ever think Zaun’s kinda pretty at night?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ekko glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, before looking around. “Pretty? Dunno if I’d call it that. More like…gritty with a side of a green glow.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the one waxing poetic about this place,” he shot back, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, maybe I’m seeing it through rose-colored glasses. Or maybe I just like walking around with you.”

That earned a chuckle from him, the sound low and warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to you. “Well, when you put it that way…” The two of you wandered through winding alleys and across rickety bridges, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. Every so often, Ekko would point out a shortcut he’d used for one of his time-bending escapades or share a story about an adventure with the Firelights.

But then he led you down a narrow path you hadn’t noticed before, his fingers brushing yours briefly to guide you. At the end of the path, you stepped into a beautiful hidden oasis. A rooftop garden tucked away from Zaun’s usual grit and grime. The first thing you noticed was the lights. Strings of mismatched lanterns crisscrossed the space, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. Tiny fairy lights were woven through the vines that climbed up makeshift trellises, their warm flicker like little stars in the night. The plants themselves were a mix of scrappy greenery and surprisingly vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the muted tones of the city below.

“Woah…” you breathed, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a spot I’ve been working on.”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from yours. “Figured it’d be nice to have a place to get away, y’know? Somewhere quiet.”

You stepped forward, taking it all in. A small wooden bench sat in the center of the garden, its surface worn but sturdy. Around it, the plants swayed gently in the cool breeze, their leaves catching the light just enough to shimmer.

“Come on,” Ekko said, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back as he guided you to the bench. “I didn’t bring you here just to stand around.”

You sat down, the wood creaking softly under your weight. Ekko settled beside you, close enough that his knee pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sounds of Zaun filling the space. It was a working pattern. There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“How long have you been working on this?” you asked softly.

“Couple months,” he said, leaning back with his arms stretched across the bench. “Takes a while to get plants to grow in a place like this. But I dunno…it feels good to build something, y’know? Instead of just tearing things down.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his voice. Ekko didn’t let people see this side of him often though. I mean this was the boy who dreamed of a better Zaun, the one who carried the weight of his community on his shoulders.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just like you.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, huh?”

“Just telling the truth,” you said, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped into you.

The two of you sat like that for a while, wrapped up in the stillness of the garden. Ekko’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, like you were always meant to fit together.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For, y’know…being here.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course,” you said softly while winking. “You’re worth it, Ekko.”

His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, the golden light casting shadows across his face. Then he smiled. It was real, genuine smile that made your chest feel light and full all at once.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you leaned into him.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “It is.”

There it was again, the comfortable silence. The garden was quiet, bathed in the golden light of the mismatched lanterns. You rested your head on Ekko’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small, absentminded circles against your knuckles.

It was peaceful, almost too perfect for Zaun, where tranquility was a rare luxury. The hum of distant machinery and the faint chatter of the streets below were a backdrop to your own private world. You thought this was it, that the night couldn’t get any better. But Ekko had other plans.

Suddenly, he shifted away from you, his weight leaving the bench as he stood. His warmth leaving your body. You blinked up at him, confused as he turned to face you, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, the glow of the garden lights reflecting in his dark eyes.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with an irresistible playfulness.

You tilted your head, a laugh escaping you. “Dance? Here?”

“Why not?” He wiggled his fingers, urging you to take his hand.

You hesitated, glancing around. “Ekko, there’s no music.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

Reaching into his pocket, Ekko pulled out a small, beaten up speaker, a relic salvaged from some forgotten corner of Zaun. He fiddled with it for a moment before a warm melody crackled to life, filling the air with a gentle rhythm.

You stared at him in disbelief, your lips parting in surprise. “You planned this?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as a proud smile broke through. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head with a soft laugh, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “Alright, Clockstopper,” you teased. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Ekko pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the center of the garden. The music swelled around you, soft and sweet, a contrast to the chaos of Zaun. His other hand found its place on your waist, and he held you close, his movements easy and unhurried. At first, you tried to match his rhythm, your steps tentative as you followed his lead. But it wasn’t long before your foot accidentally landed on his.

“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, pulling back slightly.

Ekko winced dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with mock pain.

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“Baby?” He laughed, spinning you unexpectedly. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, the sound of your shared laughter echoing in the garden.

The two of you continued like that, swaying and spinning under the lanterns. Every so often, you’d step on his foot again, and he’d exaggerate his reaction, making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But then, as the song shifted to a slower melody, Ekko’s movements became gentler, more deliberate. He pulled you closer, your bodies impossibly near. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of zauns atmosphere lingering on him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The golden light reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer like they held their own constellation. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw and real that made your heart stutter.

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with everything words couldn’t express. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. The world seemed to tilt, the glow of the lanterns and the soft hum of the music swirling around you in a haze of light and sound.

Time felt irrelevant—ironic, considering who you were with. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.

Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lights around you. Smiling, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too,” you said, the words as natural as breathing.

Ekko grinned, his hands tightening around your waist as he pressed a series of quick, playful kisses to your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft giggle from you, his affection spilling over in a way that was so uniquely him.

“Ekko, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull away as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Never,” he said, his voice full of mock defiance as he caught your lips in another kiss.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. The music played on, the lights flickered, and Zaun’s ever-present hum seemed softer, almost distant. As the night stretched on, you found yourselves back on the bench, your head resting on Ekko’s shoulder as he absentmindedly played with your fingers. The garden felt like a dream, a little slice of peace carved out of the chaos. And in that moment, with Ekko by your side and the glow of the lanterns above you, everything felt right. Almost perfect.

banners. @anitalenia

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

[malachite834]

The Volcanion x King of Red Lions yaoi has invaded my mind since I first saw it, so here y'all go (　・ω・)

Heavily inspired by @/zekrenard 's drawing of them, who as far as I know is the genius who came up with the ship

[h00f]

T4TM (Theseus4TheMinotaur)

lost wax cast bronze, patina & paste wax

2023

(process photos & info under cut <3)

my minotaur boy!! pls click on the photos for higher res! my thesis is focusing on trans men and creatures (how original ik) and this was last semester's final. i spent a lot of time looking at sculptures of the theseus/minotaur story, and yknow? a LOT of them are erotic! i'm pretty sure i saw some of them on tumblr a decade ago, and that's led to this now!

as you'll notice, the minotaur has a big t-dick! i wanted to give him breasts and an enlarged clitoris to present a very masculine trans figure. the boy on the bottom is also trans because i say so . the piece is about looking up to older, bigger, hairier trans men and seeing something awe-inspiring and beautiful. the minotaur was locked up by a cruel father for being different, and i think modern adaptations tend towards a sympathetic asterion (his name in one version)

making this piece was. so much effort. it took me about 3 months to get it all together - from clay model (plasticine) to 3D print to silicone mold to wax cast, and finally bronze pour into the shell mold. and then a TON of filing, sanding, dremel-ing, and various other metalworking techniques that probably took years off my life.

i started with sketches and made theeeeeee ugliest model ever:

then used a 3D scanner to get it digital, then spent a goooood month or two making him pretty in blender! then i spent an agonizing few weeks trying to get it print-ready, and fiiiiiinally did

^^^ an early resin printed draft of the model - you can see in the final that i added lots to theseus after some feedback, but sadly the nosering broke off every time i cast it so i just. let that be <3

then came the moldmaking, and then the wax dipping!! the yellow stuff is shell mold (ground up ceramic bits and algae soup, sticks to the wax, then silica sand in varying sizes on top) which gets the wax melted out, and bronze poured in!

then it's all metalworking, cutting stuff off, and working with hot metal. they don't tell you about all the bronze dust and how annoying it gets wearing a respirator AND goggles. but it is for me health, me boy. here's him all cleaned up before the patina:

and then i spray him down with various chemicals to make it "patina" (aka rust) in pretty colors. wait a few days, then apply paste wax to seal it and give it that shine!

then we get what you see above!!! the blue was actually unintentional, and i'm still not super sure why it looks that way.. but it's pretty so idc <3

thanks for reading!! if you ever have any bronze/casting questions, don't hesitate to message me! <3

[fanaroff]

Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

[bluerosefox]

A DPxDC soulmate au idea

So DCverse is a soulmate world (pick any soulmate way btw, words, touch, drawings on the skin, can't see color(s) until they see or touch them, etc etc)

DPverse doesn't.

Meaning Danny wasn't born with a soulmark BUT he gets one after becoming a halfa because he is now connected to the Infinite Realms.

SO its during another one of Vlad's schemes, he's popping into different worlds and stealing things or something like that (basically like that one ep where Danny chases Vlad through the timeline after he stole Frostbite's map)

During the chase they pop out into the DCverse in one of the hero cities (pick any, not picky on which) and their fight is getting a bit out of hand (Vlad's fault, he's using the stuff he's been stealing, and Danny is doing his best to getting innocent people from getting hurt)

ANYWAYS during the fight, one of the cities hero's come to try to help/find out whats going on when Danny is hit by Vlad and gets tossed at them. The moment they either touch or Danny/Soulmate says something to the other, Danny feels the odd mark on him burn up and is MEGA confused on whats going on but decides to do what he does best.

Ignore it for now. He'd figure it out later he still needs to stop Vlad.

He apologizes to the other hero and gets back into his fight, missing the look of complete smitten awe/shock said hero had on their face.

[classyrbf]

aaaaa plzzz do nanami getting a boner when y/n is speaking to him and they end up fucking? (Established relationship)

<33

YOU TURN ME ON! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...nanami is so easily turned on when it comes to you, he can’t help but get hard at the slightest things

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, reverse cowgirl, praise, spanking, creampie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon!

“So how was your day?” You asked your husband as he loosened his tie, a long sigh leaving his lips as he slipped his jacket off.

“The usual. I don’t wanna bore you,” he chuckled. He sat at the edge of the bed, removing his shoes and tossing them to the side. He could feel the bed dip behind him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. His eyes closed shut, embracing your warmth. “How was your day, darling?” He asked.

You hopped off of the bed in front of him, grabbing his shoes from the floor and placing them on the rack. “Well, I went to the mall today!” You smiled.

“Yeah? You buy anything?” He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he stared at you in adoration. He couldn’t be more lucky to have you as his wife.

“Actually, I did. There was this cute dress that I wanted. You remember the one I showed you?” You asked. He nodded in response, a small smile creeping up on his face. “Well I found it in my size, and it was the last one. But, Ken, it’s so much prettier in person!” You said with excitement. Running over to the closet, you pulled the dress off the rack and held it up. “What do you think?”

“I think the color goes great with your skin. Makes it glow,” he explained. He could see the smile widen on your face. He loves when you get excited about the little things in life.

“Awe thank you, Ken,” you giggled, turning around to put the dress back on the rack. His eyes scanned over your figure, the shorts that exposed your legs, the tank top you wore making it obvious your nipples were hard. “Ken!” You shout.

“Huh?” He looks up at you, blinking away his confusion. He could feel his slacks slightly tighten as he shifted in his spot on the bed.

“I was talking about the new bed set I saw in the mall. Did you hear me?” You walked over to him, straddling his lap.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t. Please, tell me again.” His hands rest on your waist, gently caressing your skin as you began talking again. He stared at you as your mouth moved, going on and on about how you think it’ll match the room. “You should’ve gotten it,” he said.

“I know, but I wanted your opinion first!” You whine. “After all, you sleep here too.” You peck his lips. Nanami let out a small groan, pushing his hips back. “You okay?” You ask, looking at him with concern.

“Yeah, it’s just…um…” Nanami let out a breath, trying to hide the fact he got turned on just from you talking about your day and walking around the room. It was quite embarrassing. But with each passing second you were on his lap, he was getting harder. “Darling, I’m sorry, I’m hard.” He looked up at you.

“Oh…oh!” You laugh, hiding your face in his neck. “Ken, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t even do anything sexual, I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m some kind of perv—”

“What’s wrong with a man being attracted to his wife?” You question, staring into his eyes.

“Sweetheart, please don’t look at me like that…fuck,” he whispers under his breath. Within seconds, you push Nanami onto the bed, catching him by surprise. Your hands are moving quick to undo his belt. “You don’t have to—”

“Shush, Ken,” you demand, pulling down his pants. His cock springs free, already dripping with precum. “How are you so hard already?” You giggle, feeling arousal pool in your panties.

“You turn me on, darling.” He props himself up on his elbows as you remove your clothing, kicking aside your shorts and panties. Your crawl onto the bed, faces inches apart before you plant your lips on his, tongues moving against one another, biting down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ken.” You peck his lips once more before turning your back towards him, angling yourself above his cock. You lift your hips just so enough so you can slowly sink down, feeling the stretch. A small gasp leaves your lips, a groan escaping from your husband.

“Fuck you’re so warm and tight,” he breathes, his hands coming up to squeeze your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s entranced at the way his dick completely disappears into your cunt, sucking him in without hesitation.

You start to pick up the pace, growing more comfortable as your hips move faster, your juices dripping down his shaft. “Ah! Yes!” You hold onto his legs for support, while he watches the way your ass ripples against his dick. “Shit!” You wince, throwing your head back.

“Atta girl. There you go, sweetheart.” He lands a slap on your ass, guiding it up and down his cock. “Oh fuck, you always you always make me feel so good,” he moans. Your pussy clenches around him as you continue to slam your hips against his.

You reach your hand down to rub your clit in circles, adding to the stimulation as his cock hit your g-spot over and over. Pleasure coursed through your body, aching badly for an orgasm. Whimpers and moans from you and Nanami filled your bedroom, along with the sound of skin on skin. “Ohhh, Ken!” You whined. “Shit, baby!” You panted.

“You’re doing so good for me. Look back at me, darling, I wanna see my pretty girl.” His brows furrowed slightly as you milked his cock, he could tell you were getting desperate to cum. “There’s my girl. Keep looking at me while you ride me.”

You bit your bottom lip, muffling some of your moans and whimpers, trying your best to keep the exact rhythm you had going. Nanami cursed under his breath, eyes darting back and forth between your face and your ass. He couldn’t get enough of you. The way his tip kissed you cervix and bumped your sweet spot each time made your head spin. The curve of his dick making you arch even more.

Thick fingers squeeze the plump flesh of your ass, stuttering hips still set on riding him. “Fuck…s-slow down, sweetheart—ah! You’re gonna make me cum.” He grabs at your hips, a weak attempt to slow down your movements, but you’re so set on fucking him, feeling every last inch of your husband. You don’t care how much of a mess you make, how loud you get. It turns you on knowing your husband gets so worked up about the little things. A groan leaves his lips, head falling back in bliss as you practically ride him to cloud nine, his orgasm approaching just as quickly as yours.

Your little pants and whimpers fill his ears, eyes set on your husband glossy eyes, so fixated on the way your pussy is suck him in. His abs tense up, hand squeezing down on your ass and pulling you flush against his pelvis as he cums inside of you. The sheer feeling alone sends your orgasm raking through your body, quivering. “Oh my god!” You gasp, eyes fluttering shut. You slowly lift your hips before bringing them back down, fucking his cum into you.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” he coos, watching his cum ooze out of your sweet cunt. “Goddamn,” he sighs when you finally stop riding him. His dick twitches at the missed sensation of your gummy walls.

“If I knew just how easily I turn you on, I would’ve done this more often,” you tease, placing a wet kiss on his neck.

“Should’ve known already, pretty girl.” He playfully smacks your ass, earning a small laugh from you. “We’ll clean up in second, just give me a few.”

[6gumi]

which dress looks good on me?

synopsis ﹒your husband aventurine helps you pick out dresses ! ( gone wrong ! )

pairings﹒aventurine x f!reader

cw﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited. 、 established relationship 、mirror sex 、semi-public sex 、reader physically smaller 、mild titplay 、 squirting 、aventurine referred to as “kakavasha” once or so 、a bit of choking 、nicknames used ( baby, sweetheart, more ! ) 、more tba !

note﹒hi hii ! ! decided to change things up w my formatting . . . since the last one wasn’t that good so i hope this new format it looks fine :3 this is a lil short but it’s oki ! ! | reblogs are highly appreciated ! if you want to talk to me, send a rq or thirst . . . feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡

it was another day of spending time with your husband, of course . . . he spoiled you a shit ton today, even though you scolded him not to ! but of course, he wouldn’t listen. hmph, typical. you were both in one of the big changing rooms in your favourite place to shop at, examining the dress that hugged your body, the coldness of the room making you shiver. “hmm . . .” you hummed, raising a brow as you took a step closer to the mirror, “ . . aven, i’m not sure about this dress.” you murmured, glancing at your beloved husband staring at you in pure awe, ugh . . he was like a puppy. it was cute.

aventurine whistled, his rough fingertips tracing the outline of your ass, smirking when he felt you jump. “i like it, i guess you don’t then,” he chuckled with a shrug, taking a step closer. “maybe try another one on and see how it looks, maybe something a bit looser, if you prefer. but to me, i like this one.”

“babe, you said that with the five other dresses i tried on earlier.”

“ . . . so?”

“sooo which means that . . . you need to be more with me, you can’t just say “yes it looks good” every single time, y’know . . . i need your honest opinion.” you spoke, crossing your arms.

“well, you did look good in all those dresses you tried on earlier, even this one you still look as beautiful as ever.” aventurine’s pretty eyes roamed over your body with admiration. "your body is perfect just the way it is." aventurine reached out, gently cupping one of your round breasts through the thin material of your dress. "and if anything, you're just getting even more beautiful with each passing day." he leaned in close, nuzzling your neck as he whispered into your ear, " . . mm . . but if you want to look extra hot, maybe we should find something that shows off your cute breasts over here. maybe . . one that allows them to spill right out—“

“kakavasha.”

“what? i was only telling the truth, sweetheart. can’t handle it?”

the dress surely was stunning, accentuating every part of you. but there was something missing . . . like something else needed to be added. hm . . you weren’t sure what. could it be the color? maybe it wasn’t your color? you just weren’t sure. a hand ran through your hair again, slowly trailing down towards the fat of your ass . . . feeling a small yet sharp slap that stung your skin. “you really can’t decide? just get all of them, love. you know i can afford them. unless . . you want me to tell you how i feel about this dress in specific . . both on and off. would that be to your liking?” that smug lil’ smirk on his face . . . you knew exactly what he meant by that. it was risky, but hey . . . you didn’t mind that. you nodded, raising a brow with a smile.

aventurine’s eyes darted over your figure, lingering on the swell of your breasts beneath the dress you wore, he could feel his cock stirring in his pants, straining against the fabric of his boxers. aventurine silently cursed his weakness, his thoughts betraying him at the most inopportune time. “mmh . . . let’s start here.” your husband’s fingers tickled your chin, facing you to the mirror infront of you, as if he wanted you to watch every single thing he does. gripping your hips, he pressed your body firmly against the cold mirror . . his fingers moved deftly, reaching down to flip your dress upwards, sliding his eager digits within your heat . . stroking your wet slit.

“aven . . .” a breathy whimper slipped between your lips as aventurine pressed his thumb against your clit, his other fingers dipping into your folds. He could feel her body respond to his touch, your hips bucking slightly as you tried stifling moans.

“mm . . this dress presents you so well, angel. i like the fabric used . . i also like how these present these tits of yours. ‘s fucking pretty. you can’t expect me to not look at them, can you, baby?” he teased, his fingers brushing over your nipples gently. “if you ever wore this at an important gathering . . fuck. i’d get hard so quick,” his voice . . . goodness his voice. he was so close to you, his body pressed firmly against yours, rubbing his cock against your backside. “speaking of that . . look how hard you made me, baby. just ‘cuz i saw you in this pretty dress.”

the gambler trapped you close against the mirror, cock twitching at the sight of your breasts pressing against the cold surface. his eyes darkened, desire burning in his depths as he looked at the reflection of his wife. your breathing hitched, eyes half-closed, and lips parted in need. "fuck, baby . . . you're driving me insane," aventurine growled, his voice desperate and thick with lust. he adjusted the dress, pulling it down just enough to reveal more of your breasts . . . mouth watering at the sight, his cock throbbing painfully in response. “i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy . . kay? i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy.” aventurine’s skilled hands wrapped themselves around your throat, applying pressure with a squeeze. “. . . ‘gonna fuck you hard against this mirror until we get kicked out, kay?”

“ . . okay . . “

“good girl.” his hand squeezed around your neck once more as his cock slid smoothly into your wet heat. his breath hitched as he felt your warmth enveloping him, your wet heat surrounding his dick. your moans and his groans bounced off the walls of the fitting room, not caring if anyone was waiting outside to try on their own clothes . . that’s their problem! “oh baby . . . i will never stop fucking this cunt of yours.” aventurine groaned deeply, losing all control within his nerves as they were all conveyed by pure lust for you. the sounds of the mall faded away, replaced by the slap of your bodies connecting, the soft gasps and whimpers escaping both of you and him.

"this fuckin’ dress . . . fuck i’m gonna ruin it. ruin you, baby.” the gambler breathed raggedly, rough hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pounded into you with no avail or intention of stopping, his eyes locked on the reflection, watching himself taking his pretty wife in the sexiest dress he’d ever seen. “watch me while i fuck you, my little wife. do you see my cock sliding in and out of you? ‘s good . . isn’t it?”

"god, yes!" you cried out, clenching your fists against the mirror, your husband’s eyes locked on the image of your plump tits bouncing with each thrust with your face flushed with passion. “more, aven . . more more more !” goodness . . . you were almost certain that people from the outside heard you both fuckin’ and getting it down in there. in full honesty . . . aventurine didn't care who heard, he didn't care about the consequences. all he cared about was satisfying his desperate hunger for you, feeling your body clench around him. oh . . the way your heat enveloped his member like a blanket drove him crazy. it took every ounce of control left in his body to not cum instantly . . wanting to savour the moment more.

“a—aven i’m gonna cum . . .”

“yeah? cum, angel. cum on my cock . . maybe cum on the mirror too . . give the workers a hard time cleaning our intimacy.” he chuckled, landing a swift smack to your ass. fuck, the sensation was too much for you. your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely. with a gasp, you squirted all over the mirror, milking your husbands cock as you did so . . . your vision swam with pleasure, mind hazy with orgasmic bliss. “well then . .” aventurine spoke again, grunting when he emptied himself into you. “did that prove anything? prove how much i liked this dress . . ?”

“sh—shit . . mm . . yes, yes it did . .”

“good. then let’s get this one then, baby. can’t wait to completely ruin you again in this dress when we get home.”

© 6GUMI. please do not modify 、translate 、share my works on other platforms 、or consider them as yours.

[criminalamnesia]

ok this is the end of the little tolerate it series— BUT I’m writing two different endings!! so here’s ending 1 :)

part one here and part two here

ending version 2 here

when he saw you that day on the street and tried to stop you, you had kept walking. hadn’t even turned your head, as if you knew it was him speaking.

of course you’d known it was him. he couldn’t blame you for ignoring him, honestly— he had been awful to you. he fully recognized that now, after years of being alone and mandated therapy and an honorable discharge.

he recognized how he let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he was too damn wrapped up in himself. but he had a right to be.

he had a right to not want to celebrate coming home. had a right to want peace and quiet once escaping from the sounds of war and death. he just should’ve communicated that with you instead of pulling away.

he’s grown. he understands now. and he knows you don’t owe him anything— hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you slapped him across the face for this, but he needed to try.

he knew it was selfish of him. you’d moved on, surely. years had passed and you’d grown. he’s sure that naivety he once found charming is long gone, most likely from his doing.

he takes a deep breath, fist raised to knock on the door to your house. it’s small and quaint. something he definitely could’ve seen you picking out when the two of you had still been together. maybe not all of you had changed.

he’d gotten the address through Laswell as a parting gift. and he didn’t know why it was the one thing that came to mind— but it was, and now he’s here. standing on your porch with his fist in the air like a fucking creep.

he pushes out an exhale and knocks. all is silent inside the house, and he knocks again, the second one easier than the first.

“coming!” he hears you call from inside. he steels himself. readies himself for attack, for battle. it was something he couldn’t quite shake, even if he’d been retired for a year now. those instincts really never leave you.

the door swings open, and the smile you were sporting instantly drops.

“what are you doing here?” there’s venom in your tone. he doesn’t shy away.

“love—” he begins, but you scoff and start to shut the door.

“actually, I don’t want to know. get off my porch before I call the cops—”

before the door can click shut, he reaches a hand out and blocks you from fully shutting it. you look down at his hand, bewildered.

“move your hand.” you speak through gritted teeth. he stands his ground.

“love,” he starts again, pushing the words out quickly to avoid getting cut off again. “y’don’t owe me anythin’ and I know that. but can I at least apologize? please?”

you stare at him. he keeps his hand in the door, watching your face intently. he can’t tell what’s going on behind your eyes.

you take a beat. two. three. then you shut your eyes tightly as you inhale, open them as you release the breath, and open the door wider.

“you’ve got five minutes to speak your piece, and I hope you know I’m doing this for you, not me. I got over you a long time ago, and because I see myself as a halfway decent person, I’m going to let you do this. then you can leave and never come back. understand?”

he gives a small nod. “understood.”

you step aside and he enters your house, eyes already scanning his surroundings. it’s cute and airy, comfortable and full of you.

pictures of you and friends on the walls. lamps that look a hundred years old on end tables. big windows letting the sun shine in and onto a plethora of plants. colorful artwork and pillows and fabrics. it’s a house full of you, of life, and he finds himself envying it.

he doesn’t know why. maybe because it’s something so normal, and something he’s never experienced. he didn’t get that before he left home, and he certainly didn’t get it in the military. he still doesn’t have it now. he’s still struggling to figure out who he is without a gun in his hand.

“nice place,” he says, and he means it.

you roll your eyes as you walk towards the blue, comfortable looking couch situated to the right. he follows dutifully.

you gesture towards the couch, and he takes the hint. he sits down, sinking into the cushion, and watches as you move to stand across from him. he knows you’re putting distance between the two of you. he doesn’t blame you.

you were never the problem.

he was.

“five minutes, starting now. best believe I’m timing your ass,” you mutter out, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the screen. setting a timer, most likely.

best to get on with it, then.

“I owe you an apology, and I ‘ave since y’left. before tha’, actually. I was an ass, and I know tha’ now. you had every right to leave, and you have every right to hate me—”

you gave a mirthless, hollow laugh and crossed your arms over your chest. you were putting up your walls, protecting yourself.

“you put me in therapy, did you know that? years of it. broke me down and crushed me into tiny pieces. made me think I was the problem, that I deserved to be treated that way. ruined my trust and my confidence.”

your tone was bitter. your nails dug into the skin of your arms.

“you were never the problem,” he says, his words firm. he stand then, hands hanging loosely at his sides. “I was. I know tha’ now. I pulled away when I should’ve communicated, or hell— broke things off sooner.”

“so that’s why you’re here then? to tell me you wished you would’ve broken up with me before I broke up with you?”

god, that was not what he meant, and he struggled to find the way to put his thoughts into words.

“no, f’course not, love. I’m tryin’ to say I strung y’along, made things worse, and—”

“and what?” you interrupted.

“an’ im sorry, love. I know it probably doesn’t mean anythin’ anymore. but i am. deeply.”

you didn’t speak for a minute. your eyes studied his face. he knew you were probably taking in the obvious signs of age, of battles he came back from when you were no longer there.

“you going on a suicide mission? is that why you’re here? making amends before you die so you can face the afterlife with a clear conscience?”

he shook his head, taking a small step forward. “no. I— I was discharged. a bit ago, actually.”

“congrats,” you deadpanned.

“tha’s not tha’ point,” he sighed. “they made me go to therapy for a while. unpack all tha’ shit they put me through. and the shrink brought up you once, and it got me thinkin’—”

“so you’re here because your shrink told you to say sorry?”

“bloody hell, love, let me finish,” exasperation was clear in his tone, but he tried to reel it in. he reminded himself that you didn’t owe him shit. you could kick him out right now. he was here because of your allowance, and the second you stopped tolerating him, he’d be back on the porch.

you raised your eyebrows but kept your mouth clamped shut.

“I was an ass when I was with you, and tha’s on me, not you. I was dealin’ with my own shit, and havin’ you celebrate me and boastin’ about my bravery and shit— it didn’t— I couldn’t stand it. you don’t understand, love, and you never will— and tha’s not your fault. s’mine, and I’m still comin’ to terms with all tha’ shit. and I should’ve communicated tha’ with you instead of pullin’ away.”

silence filled the air between the two of you. he could hear the tick of a clock nearby. two ticks. three ticks. four. five.

“what do you want from me, then?” you spoke, and your voice was soft. he could hear the tremble in it— that old you slipping back in, and god he wanted to hold you.

he remembered loving you. he still knew what that felt like, even if was so long ago. and that love was creeping back in, that need to protect you coming back like a tidal wave.

“nothin’.” he said.

“nothing.” you repeated. he nodded.

the timer on your phone went off. five minutes, on the dot.

you clicked it off and looked at him. he was already moving towards the door.

“wait—” you called out to him, and as he turned back to face you, he could tell you hadn’t meant to. it had slipped out subconsciously, and he could see you fighting yourself on what your next words would be.

“I— I don’t forgive you,” you told him. “I don’t know if I ever will. but I— you don’t deserve to be alone. not after all you’ve done.”

he looked at you, the fingers of his hands twitching as he waited for you to speak again.

you took a deep breath and turned your attention to your feet. “I’m here. if you need someone to talk to about whatever. um— I—”

“it’s alrigh’, love. y’dont have to say anythin’ you don’t mean.”

you shook your head. “I do mean it. I admired you when we were together, y’know? you were everything to me— and that’s not something that ever fully goes away. I kinda hate you for everything you did,” you gave a small laugh. “but I don’t want you to suffer, okay? maybe we can— can get coffee or something next week. yeah?”

your eyes were glassy. he resisted the urge to reach for you. he was a protector, it was in his nature. he’d been too wound up in himself back then to realize that the trait he’d showcased on the battlefield should’ve applied to his home life, too. applied to his relationship. to you.

“yeah.” he nodded, his voice soft. he gave you a small smile. “tha’ would be nice.”

you nodded. he looked at you for a moment longer, taking in everything that had changed. but there was still the hint of that naive, youthful you, and that made him smile a little wider.

he turned and walked out the door.

————

author’s note:

muahahahaha ambiguous ending. do they get back together?? no?? do they ever get coffee?? it’s up to you!

this is ending one, keep a look out for ending 2 :)

[mrsshabana]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, creampie, age difference, angst, fluff, daddy issues, mommy issues, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 7.7k words. If you can guess the secret reference in this fic, I love you ♡ ✧:･ﾟ→ Part one ✧:･ﾟ→ Part three

“I really let myself go, man…” Gyutaro mumbles to himself as he carefully shaves his face. Leaning closer to the mirror as he focuses on getting rid of the facial hair he's been too lazy to shave. Well, really it's been a combination of stress and laziness. He's been pretty stressed ever since you came over and he kicked you out. But after you agreed to go on a date with him he knew he had to clean himself up and make himself look nice for you. 

The whole time he tries to pep himself up, “You got this, you got this… it’s only probably your last chance at love. No pressure,” yeah that pep talk ended up making him even more nervous. 

But there's no time to dwell on it, he's supposed to be at your place in 20 minutes to pick you up. So he hurriedly finishes his grooming, puts on some nice clothes, and grabs his keys. 

As he drives over to your place, you pace around your room nervously. Thinking about the hundreds of possibilities that could take place during this date. To say you’re nervous would be an understatement. 

You think Gyutaro is an amazing guy, but you can't help but feel cautious about the fact that he's so much older than you. You may be naive but you’re no idiot. You know how a lot of older men view younger women, like they're some kind of trophy or toy. Gyutaro never gave you those kinds of vibes, but you want to be mindful just in case. 

As soon as you hear a car pulling up to your driveway you grab your purse, slip on your shoes, and bolt out the door. Gyutaro's car pulls up to your house, looking very shiny as he must have recently taken it to the car wash. 

He parks the car and steps out to greet you, and as soon as his eyes land on you his cheeks turn pink. Becoming flustered by how beautiful you look, especially in that floral dress that's perfect for the botanical gardens. 

“H-Hey Y/N,” he waves shyly, walking over to you. 

“Hey, Gyutaro!” You make the bold decision to walk up to him and give him a hug. By reading his body language you can tell he isn't angry at you anymore so you decide to go for it. 

He's surprised at first because he's never touched you like this before, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. And the same goes for you. The way his strong muscled arms wrap around you sends shivers down your spine. Not to mention the masculine scent of his cologne, so much more attractive than the axe that guys your age typically wear.

“You look really beautiful, by the way,” he says as he pulls away from the hug. Looking down at you with a flustered expression, glancing at your dress but trying not to stare too hard.

“Aw thank you! You look very handsome,” you smile and run your fingers along the hem of his shirt, “This color looks good on you.” You admire the way the white fabric clings to his biceps. White isn't a color he typically wears, but it's getting hot out and he figured it'd be more comfortable. Now that you complimented him though, he’s feeling a million times more confident with his outfit decision. Even though it’s just a nice button-up shirt and some jeans. 

“Thanks,” his blush deepens and he opens the passenger side door for you.

You thank him as you hop inside. 

The drive to the botanical gardens was pretty quiet, there's an awkwardness that lingers in the air. Mostly from the situation where you last saw Gyutaro in person. It didn't go well, to say the least, and going from leaving his house in tears to now going on a romantic date, it's quite the contrast and there was no conversation acknowledging what happened. A part of you wants to bring it up but you feel like it might ruin the date so you decide to save it for another time. 

Once at the botanical gardens, Gyutaro parks his car in the parking lot and then comes over to open your door for you.

“Thanks,” you blush at the chivalrous gesture.

“Have you ever been here before?” Gyutaro asked nervously as the two of you walk towards the entrance.

“No,” you shake your head, “I've always wanted to come though!”

“W-well I’m glad I chose this then,” he blushes as he shows the employee at the entrance the tickets he bought online. Once admitted inside the two of you follow the designated path to view the gardens. 

He looks down at you, observing your beauty instead of that of the rose bushes beside you. He can't bring himself to pay attention to them right now. All he can think about is you, how beautiful you are, and how he wishes he was in his 20s again so he wouldn't feel so weird about this date. He feels like everyone is judging him for being out with you, but in reality no one really notices. 

He's been on two first dates in his entire life, and they didn't go well considering he never got a second one. Both of those dates were over five years ago. And by now he's forgotten how to do it, but let's be honest he never knew to begin with. 

Should he hold your hand? Should he talk to you? Or should he just keep staring at you? He quickly looks away when he realizes how long he’s been staring at you, and that you must have noticed him from the corner of your eye by now. 

“Shit, I wish I knew what I was doing,” he thinks to himself, “Things feel so awkward right now… I should probably clear the air if I want any chance of this date going well.”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, “Hey uh, Y/N?”

“Hm?” you hum, looking up at him through your fluttery lashes. 

“Can we talk about what happened the other night?” he says hesitantly, looking to the side, avoiding eye contact out of nervousness.

“Sure,” you say, leading him over to a bench where you can talk more privately. 

When he sits he takes a deep sigh and rolls his fingers through his hair, trying to think of the right words to say. 

“I'm sorry,” he just spits it out, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, my reaction was uncalled for and I overreacted…”

You instantly feel a weight lift off your shoulders when hearing his apology. “It’s ok, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said what I said… I wasn't thinking and it wasn't the right way to tell you how I felt.” You look down, feeling a bit ashamed and embarrassed about what you said to him that day. 

He smiles, chuckling to himself as he recalls your statement. It was pretty bold for you to flat out say he should get with a younger girl like you. 

“You don't need to apologize. It was my fault for assuming that you liked me based on that statement…”

“Well, I do like you,” you smile and take his hand, “so you assumed right.”

His cheeks turn pink and he stutters, “R-really…?”

He's left speechless, but on the inside he's doing summersaults. In all honesty he wasn't sure if you liked him in that way, especially after everything that happened. A part of him thought you were just being nice to him and giving him a suggestion without insinuating your feelings for him at all. That maybe he jumped to the conclusion that you liked him because he already liked you himself. 

And through today’s date he was hoping to find out how you really felt. If you liked him back, it'd be a romantic date. Or if you didn’t it could just be a friend date where you could make up. He’s happy that this is going to be a romantic date instead. 

“Of course really! I started liking you ever since that night you fell asleep on the couch and I made dinner for you…”

His blush deepens, “Th-that's when I started liking you too… but my head told me you were off limits so…”

“How come?”

“You know,” he nervously scratches the back of his neck, “Because I'm so much older than you and you're my sister’s friend.”

“You're really hung up on the age thing huh?” you stand up and pull his wrist till he stands up, “I really like that you're older than me… so don’t be so hard on yourself, ok? Being older doesn't make you bad, it just makes you different, and I like all of those differences compared to guys my age.”

“Th-thanks,” he whimpers, feeling like his heart is going to explode. 

Now that the air has been cleared and the purpose of this outing has been established, the two of you make your way through the gardens. Admiring the beautiful flowers, the butterflies, and of course the cute expression on Gyutaro's face the entire time. 

You make sure to take lots of photos of the two of you. Gyutaro looks so awkward when you try to take selfies with him, but it's kind of cute. The best one is where he didn't even realize you were taking a photo and he's looking at you, blushing with a smile on his face. 

As the two of you near the end of the gardens, you walk by a large koi pond filled with beautiful lotus flowers and surrounded by hydrangea bushes. You and Gyutaro decide to take a break and sit by the edge of the pond, peering in and observing the beautiful fish.

“Wow, this is so pretty!” you chime, “I think this is my favorite part.”

“Me too,” he shyly agrees, “Fish are so cool…”

“Maybe for our next date we could go to the aquarium then?” You smile optimistically, already excited to spend more time with him.

“Wait… seriously? You actually want another one?” His eyes widen and he looks at you in disbelief. 

“Of course! This was really fun…”

He blushes and mumbles, “Yeah, it was…” he inches closer to you until his shoulder is right beside yours.

You sit there with him for a while, enjoying the scenery and taking it all in. Gyutaro feels so many things right now, and his heart is pumping at a million miles a minute. He's so psyched that you want another date, it quite frankly feels like a dream. And even though you admitted how much you like him, he's still convinced that he’s going to fuck this up.

“Shit… I'm being too quiet I should say something,” he thinks to himself.

“So uh… my manager fell into a koi pond once,” he blurts out of nowhere.

“What?” you giggle.

“Yeah, he walked straight into it! One of my coworkers got ahold of the security footage and everyone in the office watched it. It was hilarious.”

“Haha! Oh my god, he must have been so embarrassed.”

You continue to giggle as Gyutaro acts out what happened, telling you every detail about how mad his manager was and how he even got sued for accidentally killing one of the fish. 

It's honestly quite strange seeing Gyutaro this way, telling you silly stories and being so talkative. It's a completely different side to him that you had never seen before, but it’s really refreshing to see him this way. And since he’s older than you, you figure he has lots of stories to tell. You hope he'll share more of them with you in the future. 

After sitting at the pond and listening to Gyutaro’s stories, the two of you decide to stop by the gift shop before leaving. 

“I was thinking maybe we could get matching t-shirts?” you exclaim as you begin looking at the racks of shirts in the gift shop. 

“S-sure, that sounds good to me,” he swallows dryly. Isn't getting matching t-shirts something that couples do? But you aren't a couple yet… or are you? He starts sweating nervously as he contemplates the idea of being your boyfriend. He doesn't want to get too ahead of himself but he can't help but swoon over the thoughts that come to mind when imagining himself as your boyfriend. “Wait… does that mean… she might sleep over sometime?” His whole face goes red as he thinks about you lying in his bed with him. It's been so long since he's ever considered such a thing, years to be honest. He hasn't felt this kind of adrenaline in at least 5 years since he gave up on romance. 

“Are you ok?” you ask as you notice how red his face is. 

“Y-Yeah!” he quickly snaps out of it and clears his throat, “I uh I just have allergies.” He laughs nervously hoping you'll accept his lame excuse. 

You frown and hand him a tissue from your purse, “You poor thing, here take this, I get allergies a lot too.”

“Thanks…” his blush only deepens, being taken care of by you flusters him.

“What do you think of these ones?” you hold up a pair of matching t-shirts sporting the logo and name of the gardens, with a beautiful koi pond illustration on the front. 

He can't help but smile, “Those look perfect,” he takes them and slings them over his arm.

“I'm gonna look over here real quick. I want to get something for my friend,” you say.

“No problem, I'll look around too.”

After ten minutes of looking around you notice Gyutaro is waiting for you outside of the gift shop, he must have already paid for everything. Honestly, he just wanted to pay for the shirts when you were occupied so you wouldn't insist on paying, he wanted it to be his treat.   

So you go ahead and check out the item you picked out before meeting him back outside. 

“Got everything you were looking for?” he smiles before taking your hand again.

“Yep!” you eagerly take his hand and look around the courtyard, “I really don't want this date to end yet… would you like to maybe check out that cafe before we go?” you point out a small cafe across from the gift shop.

“You read my mind,” he blushes and walks over to the cafe with you. 

Inside is full of beautiful plants and flower arrangements, making a scenic and relaxing atmosphere. There are only a few people inside too so that makes Gyutaro feel a bit less self conscious. 

“Hey look Gyu! They have cold brew!” you chime as you point up to the menu.

He's immediately caught off guard not only by the nickname but also that you know his favorite kind of coffee. “What-when-how did you know I love cold brew?”

“I saw a bunch of them in your fridge when I was studying with Ume the other night…” you confess. 

He can't help but think that's quite cute, “Ha, well yeah. It is my favorite, I'll let you have a sip of mine.”

Gyutaro orders your drinks and as he hands the pink-haired cashier his debit card she says, “You two are such a cute couple!”

His eyes immediately go wide and he stumbles over his words, unsure of what to say, “I um um w-well we uh...”

“Oh I'm sorry,” she apologizes, “I didn't mean to assume! Are you her teacher or something? Is there a class trip going on today?”

Gyutaro's skin goes pale and he begins choking on the air that was in his lungs. 

You quickly butt in, “Haha no worries, we are a couple actually,” you say nervously hoping Gyutaro won't mind what you've said. 

“Oh! How cute! See I could just tell it was love by the way you were looking at each other!” The girl has hearts in her eyes as she proclaims her joy at seeing a happy couple. 

Gyutaro is still in a non-functioning state of disbelief as you walk him over to a small table and help him sit down. He still can't believe she thought he was your teacher, and not only that but you said you two were a couple! That statement is the only thing making him feel a bit better about your age gap being called out. 

“Are you alright?” you laugh nervously as you put your hand on his shoulder, “It's alright Gyu, at least-”

“Are we a couple?” he cuts you off. 

“Oh um,” you blush, “w-well if you want to be…”

“Do you?” he looks at you with wide eyes, with a mixture of eagerness and desperation.

“Of course I do! I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want it to happen,” you smile and kiss his cheek to reassure him. 

He looks down, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half closed. Sitting there thinking and trying to calm himself down. This is only the first date, are things maybe moving too fast? The thought is in the back of his mind but honestly, he has no relationship experience so he isn't sure what's normal and what's not. 

The thing is, you know Gyutaro well enough to know that you would want to pursue a relationship with him. You don't need multiple dates to tell you that. Your previous interactions with him and this one date have been enough to help you make up your mind. He's honestly everything you want in a partner, you just hope that he will agree. 

Gyutaro still has a lot of concerns, mainly the age difference. But putting that aside, he really does like you. You're sweet, caring, and not to mention beautiful. You go out of your way to take care of him, something he's never experienced before. And you do everything you can to ease his anxieties and you actually make him feel normal. Despite all of his self-sabotaging thoughts, he's not going to let them get in the way of his happiness. 

“Yeah,” he looks up at you with a soft smile, “I'd love to be your boyfriend.”

You can't help the excited squeal that escapes your lips. You immediately run over and hug him, almost knocking him out of his seat. “I'm so excited Gyu! This means we can go on a lot more dates right?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, “But we can't tell Ume, ok? She'd freak out…”

“Don't worry, my lips are sealed!” 

After you receive your drinks you and Gyutaro discuss how to proceed with your relationship. For the most part, you're just like any other couple, the only difference is that you need to keep it hidden from his sister. Which shouldn't be too hard since Ume is always glued to her phone. You'll just need to remember you can't post any photos from your dates with Gyutaro. 

Before leaving the cafe you give Gyutaro a cute pen with bees and flowers on it that you bought for him at the gift shop. He had no idea you were going to buy something for him, but even though it's just a small pen, it means a lot to him and he plans to use it every day at work. 

Gyutaro also gives you a stuffed animal koi fish he found in the gift shop, he thought you'd like it since you spent a lot of time talking together by the koi pond. 

You can't help but tear up at the thoughtful gesture. You've only officially been a couple for less than an hour but you're already seeing proof that becoming his girlfriend was a good decision. 

.˚₊┈���♡୧┈₊˚.

The date went a lot better than either of you had expected, but unfortunately, things won't be so easy from now on. 

Not only do you have classes and Gyutaro has work, but the only times you get to see each other is when Ume is around so you have to pretend your relationship doesn't exist.

Gyutaro will usually give you a generic greeting if he comes home from work to see you studying with Ume, and act indifferent towards you. Only to text you as soon as he gets in his room telling you how beautiful you look and how much he misses you. 

It's hard having to hide your feelings every time you see him. But you know it's necessary. And it's not all bad because sometimes Gyutaro will tell Ume he is working overtime when in reality he's taking you out for dinner or to a movie. Most often ending the night with a heated kiss in the car before he drops you off back at your place. 

For once in his life he actually feels genuine happiness. Like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and maybe all of his hard work is actually paying off. He feels a higher sense of purpose now. Instead of his only purpose being Ume, he has you. It feels good to have someone else care about you, someone that has no other reason to other than the fact that they love you. 

Not to mention every time you come over to study with Ume you bring homecooked food with you. After Gyutaro told you his dad was Japanese and he loved eating his cooking, you’ve experimented with Japanese recipes just for him. You have no idea how much that means to him. 

Like today, when he came home from work, immediately the smell of nostalgia hit his nose. 

“No way…” he smiles excitedly as he kicks off his shoes and runs over to the kitchen. “Holy shit!”

Entering the kitchen he sees neatly packed portions of curry rice, one of his favorite meals his dad would make before he passed away. 

He looks around for you, but the living room and kitchen are empty. Though if he listens closely he can hear you and Ume laughing in her room. 

Wasting no time opening one of the tupperware containers and digging in, Gyutaro thinks about how lucky he is to have you in his life. Not to mention how thankful he feels that you go out of your way to cook for him. After a long and exhausting day at the office, this is exactly what he needs. He’ll make sure to thank you later.

It’s not long before Gyutaro is passed out in bed. After binging on your food and changing out of his work clothes he was fast asleep in under ten minutes. 

And so was Ume. She fell asleep on her bed watching TikToks as you finished up her online quiz for her. It’s already past 11 pm, but you didn’t pack anything to sleep over. Not that you’d mind staying the night, it’s not like you have a way home anyway. Unless you asked Gyutaro to take you home but you would rather let him rest.

Though that does give you a devious idea.

A little while later Gyutaro wakes up to the feeling of someone crawling into bed with him. 

“Ume…?” he rasps, rubbing his eyes. It’s been so long since his sister has gotten into his bed. She’s only ever done it when she had a terrible nightmare or was extremely upset by something. But that was years ago. He can’t imagine what would have upset her so much to make her do it tonight. 

“Are you alright- WAIT, Y/N?” His eyes widen when he realizes it was actually you who crawled into bed with him. Immediately his cheeks turn pink and his body stiffens. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you blush as you notice he’s shirtless, “But I just wanted to spend some time with you… it’s been a while.”

“Y-yeah it has, but where’s Ume?”

“She fell asleep a while ago,” you say shyly.

“O-Oh, I see. W-Well I don’t mind you staying here with me for the night I guess,” he stutters, “But you gotta be out before Ume wakes up, ok?”

“Ok!” you say happily as you cling to him and nuzzle your face against his chest. 

Gyutaro’s whole body feels frozen in place as he feels your body press against him. Not to mention the pressure he feels building beneath his pajama pants. 

His whole body heats up and he feels like he’s suffocating. He’s full of nervousness and excitement. Never in his life has someone been so physically close to him. “Oh god… what do I do with my hands?” he thinks to himself as he swallows dryly. 

Would it be rude to touch you? He’s so self-conscious about crossing a boundary or making you uncomfortable even though you’re his girlfriend. He just really doesn’t want to mess this up. And all the insecurities surrounding him being older than you just make it a million times worse. His inner voice yelling at him that he’s a creep. That he’s too old to be doing this with you. Or worse, that he’s taking advantage of you in some way. 

“Hey, are you ok?” you look up at him, noticing that something is off, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“No no! It’s not you,” he laughs nervously, “I like being close to you like this, I just… I just feel weird… I’m just some old loser-”

You cut him off by quickly grabbing his face and pressing your lips against his, giving him a soft and heartfelt kiss. His eyes widen at first but he can’t help but relax into your affection, slowly closing his eyes and resting his hands on your waist.

“You aren’t old, and you aren’t a loser,” you whisper as you pull away from the kiss, “You’re my boyfriend and I love you.”

That shut up the negative voices in his head real quick. 

“Y-You love me?” he blushes, looking at you with tears in his eyes. 

“I do, I love you so much,” you smile sweetly as you caress his cheek, looking into his eyes to let him know you really mean it.

He takes a shaky breath, really taking your words in. Could it really be true? He knew things were going well with you but he honestly never expected you to actually fall in love with him. Things never go this well for him. It has to be a trick, right? … no, no it can’t be a trick. Maybe, just maybe it really is true. And maybe it really is what he deserves. After all the hell he’s been through for the past 35 years of his pathetic existence, it all had to be for something right? Could this really be it? It has to be because staring back at him is everything he’s ever wanted and more. 

“I love you too,” he states. It’s the first thing he’s ever said to you with full confidence. 

He’s so sure of himself in fact, that he does something bold. He pins you to the bed and intertwines his lips with yours, quickly running his tongue along your lip begging for access. Of course, you’re quick to grant it to him. 

Even though his actions seem aggressive, his kiss is gentle and passionate. Confirming the strong feelings he has for you. 

But you suddenly feel something strange. Something wet splatters across your cheek. 

You open your eyes to see tears clumped to his eyelashes, sparkling in the moonlight before they drop onto your skin. 

You feel a pang in your chest, but it only makes you kiss him more fervently. You want to make sure he knows how much you love him, and that you want to be his. 

In the heat of the moment, you break away from the kiss and begin taking off your clothes. Throwing your shirt and pants to the floor. Before Gyutaro can even react you’re pulling him in for another kiss, not giving him an opportunity to second guess himself or let his insecurities seep through. 

He doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead, moving along as you guide him on top of you. Allowing him to lay comfortably between your legs. Immediately you feel his hard-on press against you through his pajamas. No wonder he’s moaning so desperately into the kiss, he must want you pretty damn badly. 

“Y/N…” he pants.

“It’s ok Gyu, you can do whatever you want to me,” you whisper to him, “I trust you. And I promise I want you as badly as you want me…” You bite your lip as you take his hand and guide it into your panties, letting him feel just how wet you are for him. 

His jaw literally drops and his entire face turns red. He can’t believe this is happening right now. 

“Y-You’re so wet…” he mutters, feeling his member twitch involuntarily. 

“Just means I’m ready for you…”

“Wha- oh!” he blushes and looks down, unable to process that you’re actually asking him to do this. And he wants it too, he really does, he’s just nervous. 

“Hey, it’s ok if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to do it tonight,” you smile and rub his shoulder, trying to reassure him that whatever he’s feeling is ok.

“N-No that’s not it, I really do want to. I-I just… don’t know how,” he looks away, completely ashamed to admit to you that he’s a virgin. 

“It’s ok, just do what feels natural. I can guide you if you need help,” you say in the most understanding and kind tone. Making him feel comfortable that you won’t judge him. 

“Alright…” with a shy smile he sits up and grabs the hem of his pants. 

You’ve already seen him shirtless which is honestly the worst of it, and if that doesn’t disgust you then maybe you won’t be repulsed by his dick either. That’s his hope at least. He takes a deep breath and pulls down his pants. His cock immediately springing free. 

He feels his heart rate speed up when it’s finally out and he realizes you can actually see it. He looks down at you, praying that he won’t see a disgusted look on your face. But all he sees is lust in your eyes, no hints of distaste whatsoever. And it’s confirmed when you reach over and begin jerking him off. A desperately pathetic whimper leaves his lips as soon as you begin stroking him. He already feels weak to his knees. 

“Wow Gyu,” you say in awe as you stroke up and down his length. 

He tries to respond but his words get jumbled together and he mutters nonsensical sounds mixed with moans. 

A million worries are going through his head right now, “Wait - should I have gotten circumcised before this?! Shit, I should have shaved more!! Oh fuck fuck fuck.” But none of those things matter at all because you think he’s perfect just the way he is. 

It’s obvious just how nervous he still is, so you hope a hand job to warm him up will help calm his nerves. In the meantime, you admire what he’s kept hidden this whole time. How his shaft has birthmarks on it to match the rest of his beautiful body. It’s something he’s always been insecure about but you have always loved them. And there’s a neat patch of hair right above it too, it looks like he keeps it trimmed, matched with a trail of sparse hairs leading down from his belly button. It’s an odd observation but you find it quite sexy. 

“B-Babe,” he whimpers, “I think- I think m’ready.”

Honestly, you were so enamored by him that you didn’t even notice how close you got him to cumming. “Oh haha sorry, I got a bit carried away.” 

You quickly take off your bra and panties and lay back down again, allowing him to position himself on top of you. 

Holding your thigh with one hand and the base of his cock with the other, he looks down in between your legs. Trying not to hyperventilate. 

“R-Ready?” he stutters. 

“I’m ready, Gyu.”

He takes a deep breath and slowly slides into you. It takes him a few seconds to find the right spot, but he quickly finds it. His grip on your thigh tightens as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. You can’t stop the moans that escape your mouth as you feel him completely fill you up. 

“Hah.. ngh- oh fuck…” he whimpers. 

“Ah- Gyu,” you moan as you pull him in for a kiss. Wanting to give him as much reassurance that he’s doing a good job. 

Getting lost in the pleasure and love you give him, he begins thrusting into you. Sharply bucking his hips as his tongue dances around your mouth. 

For once, his negative thoughts are quiet and he is solely focused on this moment. A moment he thought he didn’t deserve, a moment he gave up on wishing for. But now, he’s glad he gets to have this moment with you. 

And even though he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, he still tries his best to make you comfortable and put your needs first. “H-How can I make you cum?”

“Huh?” you’re honestly taken aback by what you heard him say. 

“I wanna make you cum… b-but I don’t know how,” he blushes and looks away in embarrassment. He’s the older one, he should know how to pleasure you, but he’s ashamed to admit his lack of experience. But even so, he won’t let that get in the way of his desire to put you first. 

Every day he gives you more and more reasons to be thankful you’re dating someone in their 30s, and this is one of them. You can’t say you’d expect a guy your age to want to put you first like that. But Gyutaro is mature and caring in nature, so of course he wants to take care of his girl.

“Oh honey,” you smile and caress his cheek, “you’re already doing a great job, but when you do this it feels really good…” You have him lower himself more onto you, your chests touching, and then you grab his hips and reposition them. Pulling him a bit closer so that with every thrust his pubic bone, and the patch of hair that sits there, stimulate your clit. 

“J-just like that,” you pant, “stay close and k-keep going.”

He nods and focuses on moving in a way that elicits the most moans from you. He may be lost in pleasure, but he’s also paying attention to you. 

He picks up the pace, pressing his entire body against you, wrapping his muscled arms around you, and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His desperate moans and the slapping of skin fill his bedroom. A once quiet room where he’s spent countless nights alone. 

Feeling that all too familiar tightness form in your stomach, you arch your back and spread your legs wider, allowing him to hit your sweet spot. Continuously ramming his cock into you, a mixture of your fluids coating his shaft. 

He felt himself getting close a long time ago, you have no idea how hard he’s trying to contain himself right now. But his desire to pleasure you drives him to go faster and faster, the sounds of your heavenly moans next to his ear make it almost impossible for him not to fill you with his seed this very instant. But he holds out, determined to make sure you finish first. No matter how torturous it may be for him. 

When he feels your thighs tremble and your walls clench around him, he knows you must be close. 

“Please,” he whimpers, “Please cum for me Y-Y/N! Ngh! M’gonna cum too!”

He squeezes his eyes shut and collides his lips with yours, desperately kissing you as he picks up his pace, thrusting as hard as he physically can. Until he just can’t hold it in any longer, and he’s moaning into your mouth as his cock twitches inside of you, painting your insides white. 

And even though he’s feeling overly sensitive and vulnerable, he continues thrusting into you to ensure you reach your peak too. And it isn’t but a few seconds before you’re crashing with him. Tightening your legs around his hips and moaning his name. A sweet sound he never thought he’d hear. 

Collapsed on top of you, he pants in an attempt to catch his breath, holding you close and just basking in the feeling of you. Letting it all sink in that he finally got to do something he’s always wanted. Quite frankly, he’s never been happier. So happy in fact, that he doesn’t even realize that he came inside of you without asking. 

But after a few minutes, he finally pulls out of you and kisses you once more. “That was perfect…” he whispers as he moves a strand of hair out of your face, “I’ll be right back.” 

He quickly goes to his bathroom to get a wet cloth, then comes back and starts cleaning you up. It’s not until then that it dawns on him and his expression changes from one of pure joy to immense guilt. 

“Oh shit… I-I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m such an asshole,” you can see his heart slowly starting to break as he realizes what he’s done. He feels so incredibly selfish and disrespectful for finishing inside of you. It’s something he’s never intended to do, he was just so caught in the moment he didn’t stop to think about it. 

“Gyutaro,” you coo, hugging him and kissing his cheek, “It’s alright, if I didn’t want you to do it I would have told you so. I really don’t mind at all.”

“A-Are you sure? But I should’ve asked if it was ok…”

“You’re my boyfriend now, and I trust you. I told you I loved you, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yeah,” he nods and hugs you back, “Thank you…”

“I would have said it was ok anyway, so don’t worry. You did everything right,” you kiss him again and rub his back.

Gyutaro’s surprised you aren’t making a big deal out of him not pulling out, but he’s glad you aren’t mad. Maybe he’s making a bigger deal out of it because he’s older and has a better grasp on the consequences. Or perhaps it is normal for couples to do it that way. He wouldn’t know. But either way, he feels lucky to have had such a moment with you. 

After the two of you are done cleaning you snuggle up together in his bed, not bothering to put clothes on. Gyutaro wraps his arms around you and holds you close all night. Falling asleep feeling like his life is finally on the right track. His dreams filled of your future together. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

At 6 am Gyutaro wakes you up to take you home. You’re reluctant to get out of bed with him because you were so comfortable, but you know it’s probably best to go home before his sister wakes up. 

It’s strange because there has always been a slight awkwardness between you and Gyutaro, like something was preventing you from getting closer to each other. Maybe it was his insecurities or maybe it was the pressure of dating someone with such a large age gap. Who knows, but whatever it is, it’s gone now. After last night that awkwardness is completely gone. And the two of you feel closer and more comfortable together than ever before. It makes leaving him this morning even more difficult. 

But you don’t have a choice so you quickly get dressed and sneak into Gyutaro’s car with him. 

Once he gets to your home, he parks in front of your house and gets out of the car to come open the door for you. 

“Thanks,” you giggle and kiss his cheek, “such a gentleman.”

“I try,” he blushes, “Um by the way… I think I’m gonna tell Ume about us. Is that alright?”

“Oh, yeah! Of course! I don’t mind if you tell her, it’s probably best coming from you.”

“Yeah, hopefully she takes it well…” he trails off. 

“Well, good luck,” you give him one last hug and kiss, “I love you.”

“I-I love you too, we’ll hang out again soon!” He blows you a kiss as he watches you walk into your house, feeling a warm sensation creep into him. This must be what love feels like. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

A few hours later Ume wakes up, and Gyutaro makes pancakes for her in an attempt to get her in a good mood so she’ll take the news a bit easier. 

He sits down with her at the table as they eat together, “So Ume, I uh… I have something to tell you.” 

“Hm?” she hums with her mouth full. 

“So um,” he says hesitantly, “I have a girlfriend.”

Her eyes widen and she immediately leaps out of her seat and gives him a tight hug, “Oh my god!!! Why didn’t you tell me?! This is great! I’m so happy for you, brother!! Who is she?”

Gyutaro is warmed by his sister's positive reaction so he feels a bit more at ease. “Well um, you already know her…”

“I do?” she quirks a brow, seemingly confused since she can’t think of anyone she knows who would be dating her brother. 

“It’s… it’s Y/N.”

She immediately lets go of him and takes a step back, looking him up and down in disgust. “You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking, Ume,” he begins to get nervous, “We’ve been dating for a while and I didn’t tell you because I was afraid of how you’d react… please don’t be mad.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Gyutaro?” she pushes his chest, “That’s disgusting!! What’s wrong with you?!” 

“Please Ume, I-”

“She’s younger than me!! You know that don’t you?? Please don’t tell me you guys are fucking too!”

He looks away, feeling completely ashamed. 

Filled with rage, Ume slaps him in the face, “You’re disgusting!! I’m leaving!” She storms off to her room and begins packing her things. 

Gyutaro is left in utter shock, standing there holding his cheek and feeling the sting from her hand. Never in his entire life has his sister put her hands on him like that. Tears begin to fill his eyes, but even though he’s full of sadness he can’t help but be angry too. 

When Ume comes back into the dining room with a bag full of her things he grabs her by the arm and yells at her, “You have no right to say that to me!”

“Like hell I do!” she yanks her arm away from him, “Not only are you sleeping with my best friend, but she’s also 14 years younger than you! Don’t you realize how creepy and predatory that is?!”

“It isn’t! She’s a grown fucking woman!!” he finally stands up for himself, “I didn’t fall in love with her because she’s young, I fell in love with her because she’s an amazing person and she accepts me for who I am! And she actually appreciates the things I do! Unlike you!!”

“Shut up!” she clenches her fists and stomps over to the front door, “You’re just like all those old desperate creeps who are too pathetic to get with a woman their age!!”

“Can I not be happy, Ume? You know I’ve dedicated my entire life to you and now that I want to do something for myself you insult me! Are you kidding me? The only one acting pathetic here is you. I’ve lived so much of my life alone and living in your shadow, and I’ve finally found someone that makes me happy… can’t you just be happy for me?”

She frowns, “No, I can’t,” and with that she leaves, slamming the door behind her. 

Gyutaro stands there, completely dumbfounded. A mixture of emotions swirling inside of him. But the strongest one is sadness. Sad that this sister isn’t happy for him, sad that she can’t support him like he’s always done for her, and sad that her words about him being a creep may actually be true.

After his night with you, he was feeling confident and proud, but now it’s all crumbling apart and he can’t help but feel like a complete and utter loser. Maybe his sister is right, maybe he is just a pathetic middle-aged man who’s so desperate for love that he goes after someone younger than him. 

He slumps into the couch and lets these negative thoughts consume him. Until he feels his phone buzz. 

“Hey Gyu! How’d it go with Ume? You should call me and spill the tea!”

A text from his girlfriend. 

He can’t help but smile. You explained to him what “tea” meant but he had already forgotten. You’ll have to teach him again. 

Seeing how casually you text him makes him think about how happy he feels every time he receives a message from you. He knows what Ume said isn’t true, but that doesn’t mean her words don’t hurt. 

He needs you, and he needs you now. You’re the only person that he can talk to about this, and the only person who will be able to comfort him. 

So, he doesn’t bother replying and he just drives over to your house. His heart feels broken but he knows you’ll be able to mend it, like you always do. 

After parking in your driveway, he runs up to the front door and knocks. 

“Hello?” an older women opens the door. She looks a bit older than Gyutaro and has similar features to you.

“Holy shit, is this her mom?” he thinks to himself. “Fuck! I should have texted her and asked if it was ok to come over…”

“Er um… is Y/N here?” he says nervously. 

“Yes, she is,” your mom quirks her brow and looks him up and down, “And who the hell are you?”

Gyutaro gulps, sweating nervously. He knows he can’t just say he’s your boyfriend, she’s probably not too fond of the idea of her 21-year-old daughter dating a man in his 30s. And this is when Gyutaro realizes, he’s fucked.

Taglist: @gyusimp @chibi-absol @kyu-kitsune @idontevenknowlsjsbsbdj @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @sterzin @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @misskaorii @matsukaah @merryclaus @dawn-rays-dingo @hoshigafuru (feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, your age must be listed on your blog. Also some of the usernames tagged aren't underlined? They are when I am on the editing screen so I'm not sure what's happening! If you know how to fix it please let me know!) ♡

[scarletwinterxx]

unconditional - jeong jaehyun imagine

hellloooo~ before i go back to being an absolute mess, here's a scenario for our valentine boy. i miss him already😭🥺😭🥺

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

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All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Three rings.

It took three rings before you answered the call. It was late so he thought you might be asleep, but he knows you always sleep late so he gave it a try. Just before he was about to hang up he hears your voice from the other line

"What?"

"Not even a hello?" Jaehyun chuckles

"What do you need, Jae? Aren't you rehearsing right now?"

A few hours ago he sent you a text while he was at the practice room, complaining about how he wanted to go home already but he still had a lot of songs to rehearse. It's now past midnight and he just got back home and the first thing he did was call you.

"Nah, I'm back home. I need to wake up early though. I'm going to dye my hair for the fanmeet"

"What is it with you guys and dyeing your hair before enlistment?" you teasingly ask him, referring to your older brother who did the same before shaving his head full of damaged hair just a few months ago. "Are you gonna go bald too?" you ask with a laugh

"Yea no, Jungwoo's not going anywhere near me with a pair of scissors"

"Aw, I was looking forward to that"

"May I remind you how you cried when you saw Taeyong hyung after shaving his head" he reminds you, recalling that emotional night.

The two of you met through your brother, his leader, Taeyong. Through the years you and Jaehyun grew close since you're the same age and used to attend the same school. What he likes most about being friends with you is how you treat him like a normal guy, not some famous boy group member.

To you, he's just Jaehyun.

As for Taeyong, he knows there's something more but he doesn't say anything about it to you. He'll let you figure it out on your own. He already had that talk with his member and even though Jaehyun may be his bestfriend, when it comes to you it's a different conversation. Though Taeyong already knows that Jaehyun's priority is very similar to his, your safety and privacy. Your brother knows you're in safe hands.

"So why did you call again?" you ask your bestfriend

"What's your favorite hair color that I did?"

"Huh? You called just to ask me that? I dunno, blonde? Like your hair during Perfume promotion? Ooooh but pink suites you too"

He listens to you list down all the colors, waiting for you to finally pick one. He lays down on his bed, staring at the canopy above while your voice fills his ears

"Okay I think it's blonde" you say with finality like it's such a serious discussion

"Are you looking at pictures of me?" he asks, a teasing hint in his voice

"I need reference, just to be sure. Why are you asking me anyways?"

"Nothing, just curious. Anyways, I got the tickets for you for the fanmeet"

"Oh shit, didn't I tell you I can't come? I have this thing I can't miss"

Jaehyun immediately sits up on his bed, mood already deflating. It's the last time he'll perform before his enlistment and he was hoping you'd be there. You're always there to watch the group and even the individual members' concerts, in a way you try to show your support while your brother is away.

"Really? You can't reschedule the other thing or maybe come the second day?" he asks, voice still hopeful

"I'll ask my supervisor, no promises though. Sorry, this was scheduled since last month"

"No, don't worry about it. Guess I'll just see you after? I still have your gift from Paris"

"You didn't need to get me anything, I told you! Anyways I need to go, talk to you tomorrow" you hang up the call before he can say anything else.

There's really no other agenda, you weren't about to miss your bestfriend's first solo event. You were going to be there no matter what, rain or shine. You just wanted to surprise him.

The two of you still messaged back and forth before the event, until the morning of the fanmeet Jaehyun was hoping for a change of plan from you but it's been hours since he last heard from you.

"The fans are coming in now, you're going on in less than an hour" his manager tells him "Some of the members are here too, just waiting for the others"

"Okay"

He scrolls through his phone, singing quietly to himself while he waits. People are going in and out of the dressing room so he didn't pay much attention to whose coming in through the doors, little did he know one of the staff member was guiding out just outside the door while you hold a big bouquet of flowers.

"Did I overdo it?" you ask his manager, earning a chuckle from them "I think he'll like it" he tells you

"He better, I spent a good amount of money for these. He's in there right?"

"Mhm, he's alone now. You can go in, maybe he'll stop moping around"

You thank staff for helping you before stepping in his dressing room, he's sitting on the couch with his back to you so he still hasn't seen you.

"Heard you were moping around, maybe this will cheer you up"

Jaehyun turns his head so fast, almost gave himself a whiplash. Checking to see if he heard that right, if it was really you. And there you are, standing a few feet from him with the biggest bouquet of flowers

"Thought you were busy today?" was all he can say.

He really thought you weren't coming today, he was feeling really down despite looking forward to this event for weeks. He just really wanted to share this day with you and now you're here.

"I was lying, forgive me but I wanted to surprise you so you can't be mad at me" you tell him, walking over to where he was. He stands up from his seat to meet you in the middle, you give him the flowers smiling so big your cheeks hurt.

"You really think I was going to miss this? How little did you think of me?" you tease him, there you notice his blonde hair recalling your conversation from a few nights ago "You look cute, I like your hair"

He still hasn't said anything, just looking at you like he can't believe you're here

"Yah, what's with you? You okay?" you ask

Instead of saying anything, he pulls you in for a hug. One arm around your waist while the other holds the flowers you got for him.

"Thank you for coming" he whispers against your hair. You smile at his words, you throw your arms around his shoulder to give him a proper hug "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Are you going to sing my song though?" you jokingly ask as you break from the hug

He looks down at you, now mirroring the smile you had. His previously somber mood making a complete turn for the better now that you're here.

"Which one?" he teases back, even though you think he's only joking there's truth to his words. His songs is his way of confessing his feelings to you. It's not as easy to say the words outright but when he sings them, it's much much easier.

He remembers how much you liked it when he made a cover of 'Like Me Better', that was one of those rare moments he's seen you fangirl over him. When he found out one of your favorite movie moments ever was the one from 10 Things I Hate About You, the scene where Heath sings for Julia, he decided to do a cover of that two. The smile you had on when you first heard his voice singing it is forever etched in his mind.

From then on, you've been referring to it as 'your song'. He performed it too during his birthday event, you were there in the crowd of course wearing a disguise but he didn't forget to throw a smile your way as if to let you know that that song is indeed for you and only you.

"Wait and find out, I'm not gonna spoil it to you"

"So you are singing it" you grin at him, already getting excited

"I'm singing my songs too, aren't you excited for that"

"I am, shut up" you give him a punch on the shoulder, "Oh and Taeyong oppa said goodluck" you add, walking to where he was sitting before. He puts the flower down, following you on the couch while the two of you wait for his manager to call him on stage

"Are you gonna cry tonight? Promise I won't make fun of you... a lot"

He knows you would, like he knows how you would probably take a video if ever do cry. "If I cry, then you'll cry too"

"I'm a sympathetic crier, sue me"

"Your brother will kill me if I make you cry so you better not, oh now that you're here" he takes a paper bag from his stuff, passing it over to you

"Ooo goodies from Paris, is it a keychain? fridge magnet? Wait what the hell, Jaehyun?! This is expensive" you say as you open the cartier box

"Early Christmas gift" he shrugs

"You said that was the Prada bag you got me last time you were in L.A"

"That was your birthday present"

"I can't accept this, Jae. This is too much" you tell him but he's already taking the love bracelet out of the box along with the little screwdriver to put it on for you

"Add it to your stack, it will look good" he mumbles, his focus on putting the bracelet on your wrist

"You gave these too! You're spoiling me too much" you laugh, watching him struggle a bit

"Good, so now other guys won't impress you that easy while I'm gone" he mumbles, finally the bracelet locks on your wrist. He looks up at you, sending you smile then lets go of your hand. You shoot him a look, as if asking him what he meant but he choose to ignore you.

"Hey, we need you out there now. Let's go" his managers peeks his head inside, calling for Jaehyun.

He stands up, you follow behind him but before he steps out the door you hold him by the arm "We're going to talk" you tell him

"About what?" he asks, blinking back at you

"You're insufferable, you know that"

He chuckles at your statement, taking the hand that was holding his arm to hold it in his instead. Intertwining his fingers with yours. You look down at your linked hands, it should feel weird. He's your bestfriend for goodness sake. But instead it feels right, like your hands were molded to fit together.

Hoping he doesn't notice your cheeks getting warm, you keep a straight face while looking up at him.

"Told you, my songs are about you. Didn't you hear the part I said I've been crushing on you but I've just been keeping it to myself"

"How was I suppose to know that was about me?!"

"Who else would it be about?" he asks back, still smiling at you. His dimples on full display

"My answer is always you" he teases. Another song lyric, you know that one too. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you give his side a pinch using your free hand

"Jaehyun we need you backstage!" the two of hear his manager shout from outside

"You have so much explaining to do, Jeong Jaehyun" you tell him, letting go of his hand to push him out the door but he don't budge.

He smiles at you again before swooping down to give you a kiss on the corner of your mouth, catching you totally of guard.

"I'll tell you everything there is to know, later. For now I got a show to do. Gonna make sure my girl won't take her eyes off me" he winks then he opens the door, leaving of behind in utter shock.

You walk out the dressing room, watching Jaehyun's back as he makes his way to the stage. Before he turns to the corners, he looks back at where you're standing sending you a quick smile and a salute. You smile back at him, waving your hand to send him off.

[just-aake]

Dyeing to See You Again

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary:  The need for a change of style brings about a reunion between Natasha and her old friend.

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 6659

Ohio - 1995

Three years ago, in the heart of the Midwest, a typical family of four moved into the ordinary suburban home next to yours.

Naturally, as their neighbor, you became interested in learning about the new family, especially since you found out that one of their daughters was similar to you in age. 

Initially closed off in the beginning, you slowly chipped away at the girl’s cold exterior until eventually the two of you became inseparable friends, forming a close bond with her over the three years they’ve lived here so far.

Currently, you find yourselves in the bathroom of her home amidst a chaotic mess of scattered bottles of hair products and dyes, the result of two young teens messing around without supervision.

You watch as Natasha removes the towel from her head, revealing the experiment that the two of you have been working on, and your eyes widen in shock at the sight.

“Uh oh, Nat, I think we might’ve mixed up the wrong bottles,” you exclaim in a slight panic as you rush around to pick up the different dyes, trying to find the one that was applied to her hair.

“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” you apologize as you try to figure out where you two went wrong.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Natasha reassures, her voice distracted in awe as she examines the strands of her newly colored hair in the mirror.

“It’s blue,” you state plainly in disbelief at her untroubled state. 

“Yeah, but…it was my choice,” Natasha says with a widening happy grin.

You drop the bottles in your hand and tilt your head at her in confusion.

“I thought you said that your mom was okay with this.” 

Natasha makes an unsure sound before shrugging, “I’m sure she will be..I think.”

You twist your lips skeptically at her words as you stand and return to her side. Your hand raises to her hair, but before you touch it, you pause and look at her with a questioning look, silently asking for permission. 

Over the time you’ve known her, you’ve learned how much Natasha values her personal space. The first time you patted her back in a friendly gesture, she pushed you away so hard that you scraped your hands while catching yourself on the ground.

Natasha apologized profusely immediately afterward and supported you home where she helped to tend to your wounds.

That was the first time you saw the true warmth that Natasha was hiding underneath her cold exterior as she cared for you.

At that time, she explained to you how she was not used to such friendly gestures like that from her peers and had reacted instinctively. 

Hearing this, you decide to always ask if she’s comfortable before you touch her.

With her nod of permission, your finger gently threads through her now light blue hair, brushing it in contemplation.

“Well, I guess it’s fine since it’s summer, but you’re going to have to change it back before school starts,” you remark.

Natasha shrugs, unconcerned, before flashing you one of her rare teasing grins.

“I’ll just have you dye it for me again. Maybe next time it might actually be the right color.”

You huff in disbelief at her, but before you can point out she also contributed to the mistake, the sound of the front door opening and the call from Natasha’s mom, Melina, causes both of your eyes to widen. 

Within the next second, the two of you scramble to clean up the mess in the bathroom, laughing with each other the entire time.

You never did get a chance to change her hair color back to normal. 

Natasha and her family vanished without a trace before the end of that summer. 

There was no note. No warning. 

She was just suddenly gone from your life.

And though many years pass, you’ve always held onto the hope that someday you can see her again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2016 (21 Years Later)

The peaceful ambiance of the late evening is pierced by the gentle chime of the bell hanging above the entrance to the hair salon, announcing the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you call out, your eyes still fixed on the task of sweeping the floor.

A familiar voice responds, breaking through your concentration. 

“What about for an old friend?”

Instantly, you freeze in your movements and look up at the visitor, disbelief flooding your senses as you recognize the voice and then the face of the woman. 

"Nat?" you utter in disbelief.

Natasha stands before you, a soft smile gracing her features as she greets you. 

“Hey, Y/n.”

Abandoning everything in your hands, you rush towards her, only to stop short of barreling into her when you remember how she felt about her personal space. 

To your surprise, Natasha pulls you into her arms for a tight hug, breaking the barrier herself.

Momentarily stunned, you quickly recover and return her warm embrace, tucking your head against her shoulder and letting out a breath of disbelief that she’s actually here in front of you.

The two of you stay in that position, reveling in your reunion with each other, before Natasha breaks the silence with a soft murmur against your shoulder.

“So, about that haircut?”

You chuckle, nodding in response to her request.

As Natasha settles into a chair, you move to secure the salon, locking the door and closing the blinds, shielding the two of you from prying eyes. 

Despite the late hour and remote location, you’re not taking any chances. 

Even though it has been years since you last saw Natasha in person, that doesn’t mean you didn’t eventually discover who she really was, recognizing her immediately through the news during the attack in New York and now with her current predicament.

But that’s her business. 

You’re not going to bring it up unless she wants to talk about it. 

Here in this moment, she's not a spy or the Black Widow. She’s simply Natasha, your friend. 

And right now, she wants to change her hair.

Taking your position behind her, you place your hands on the back of the chair and meet her eyes in the mirror. 

“So, what are we thinking?”

Natasha ponders for a moment before a teasing grin lights up her face, and she turns her head to look at you. 

"We could attempt the platinum blonde again, maybe without the blue this time?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a laugh of disbelief at the memory of your past failed attempt at dyeing her hair.

Before you begin, you give her the same questioning look as when you were younger, silently asking for permission to touch her.

A small smile forms on her face at the familiar request, and Natasha nods to you before facing forward once again to give you access to her hair. 

With her consent, your fingers gently thread through her hair, delicately brushing out the tangled areas as you go. 

As you continue your actions, Natasha’s eyes flutter closed, and a relaxed expression crosses her face as the tension in her shoulder eases with every movement.

A happy smile tugs at your lips when you see this, so you continue your soothing actions as you inspect the condition of her hair.

“What did you do?” you ask in concern when you realize the state of her hair. “The ends are all burnt up. Did you light your hair on fire or something?”

Natasha chuckles lightly, her eyes still closed as she responds.

“Not exactly. I jumped off an exploding secret evil base that was floating in the sky.”

A brief pause follows as you process her words before you release a huff of disbelief at her casual explanation. 

“Well, obviously one of us has chosen the more exciting career.”

You finish your assessment of the extent of damage to her hair before shaking your head with a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think these are salvageable. We might need to cut most of it off.”

“That’s fine,” Natasha answers calmly, unconcerned by the news.

“Seriously?” you ask, making sure she sees the length of how short her hair will be.

She meets your eyes in the mirror and gives you a reassuring nod.

“It’s not like I haven’t had that style before,” Natasha reasons before letting out a tired sigh. “Besides, a different look for me is probably better at the moment anyway.”

Understanding what she’s referring to, you don’t press further, replying with a soft, “Okay.”

You proceed with the transformation, draping a cape around Natasha’s shoulders before delicately combing through her hair.

With each snip of the scissors, you work meticulously with care, shaping Natasha’s hair into a style that would best complement her features. 

Lost in your task, you can’t help but be captivated by her beauty, understanding how she came to be described as the spy who captures the hearts of all those who encounter her.

As you finish up with the haircut, the peaceful atmosphere of the moment is shattered by an alert from the tv, interrupting the currently airing program. 

The late-night news anchor appears on the screen, delivering the all-too-familiar message that has become a nightly ritual.

“The search efforts are still ongoing for the fugitives Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, also known as Captain America and the Black Widow. The two are currently on the run for violation of the Sokovia Accords. Any information regarding their possible whereabouts should be reported to—” 

With a frown, you swiftly reach for the remote and shut off the tv. 

Turning back, your frown deepens when you find Natasha rising from the chair.

“What are you doing?” you question, puzzled by her sudden action.

Natasha shakes her head with a grave expression as she removes the cape from her shoulders.

“This was reckless. I shouldn’t be here,” she answers, her voice filled with regret. “I’m just putting you at risk.” 

Realizing her intention to leave because of the possible dangers of her presence, you interject firmly when she strides past you toward the exit. 

"I'm glad that you did."

Your unexpected words cause her to pause in her tracks, confusion flickering across her face as she turns to meet your gaze.

"I don't care about the risks, Nat," you say, your tone unwavering and softening with a small smile at her. 

“I’m glad that I got a chance to see you again.”

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly at your words, but a hesitant look still remains on her face, so you offer another reassurance.

“If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve told you to go already.”

Her gaze focuses on you in contemplation, and you know she’s almost convinced, prompting you to continue, your hand turning the chair around to her in invitation.

“Besides, I’m not finished yet. I still have to dye your hair and show you that I can get the color right this time,” you tease lightly.

A small smile tugs at Natasha’s lips, and a hint of amusement appears in her eyes as they soften into a fond look at you. 

With one final contemplative glance to the exit, Natasha comes to a decision and gives in, settling back into the seat again.

“Alright, show me what you got.”

With her permission granted, you proceed with the dyeing process, your fingers moving with practiced ease as you bleach and tone her hair, removing the remnants of her signature vibrant red locks, before applying the blonde dye. 

Your brows furrowed in concentration as you carefully coat each strand of her hair to ensure an even color in the end. 

Meanwhile, throughout the process, Natasha watches you intently through the mirror, a tiny admiring smile pulls at the corner of her lips when she sees how focused you are on your work.

Once all that’s left is to wait for the dye to set, you disappear into the back of the salon in search of some snacks and return triumphantly with a tub of ice cream. 

Offering Natasha a spoon with a playful grin, you both indulge in the sweet treat, the casual banter flowing effortlessly between you as if the years apart had never existed.

“So do you still live in the same neighborhood?” Natasha asks between spoonfuls.

You shake your head, explaining, “My parents are still there, but I moved out here years ago after fixing up this building for myself. My place is actually next door, though sometimes it’s hard to tell these are two separate buildings. You have no idea how many packages I end up never receiving because the mailman can’t find my home.”

The two of you share a laugh and continue reminiscing about past adventures and mishaps and then about your current lives.

Throughout the entire time, your questions to her remain light-hearted, carefully avoiding any mention of her current situation or her mysterious past.

Despite the happy atmosphere, your consideration for her only makes the sense of guilt within Natasha grow with each passing moment, reminding her of what she put you through.

Eventually, the room falls into a comfortable quiet as you clean up the empty containers and move to throw them away. 

When you return, Natasha decides to address her mistakes and the role she played in the fracture of your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

You look at her with a perplexed look, tilting your head in confusion.

“For what?” you ask.

“For not telling you who I was…for leaving without any warning,” she confesses, her eyes closing briefly with remorse. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You lean back against the counter, arms crossed, your gaze dropping to the floor as you contemplate her words. Your thoughts and feelings about her apology remain inscrutable on your face. 

After a brief pause, you finally meet her gaze again with a serious expression.

“Was it real?” you ask.

At your question, Natasha furrows her brows in confusion, causing you to elaborate.

“Our friendship,” you clarify, gesturing between the two of you. “All the times we spent together…was it real?”

Natasha pauses as she thinks back to her time undercover. The mission was to pose as a normal family to infiltrate and gather intel from a research lab nearby. 

That didn’t necessarily mean she needed to form such a close relationship with you at the time. 

So was her friendship with you genuinely her choice?

As Natasha contemplates her answer, you take a step closer to her, causing her focus to return back to you.

“The way I remember it, I wanted to be your friend,” you admit before giving her a knowing look. “And I’m guessing you didn’t have to be mine, at least based on all your brooding and glares that you gave me in the beginning.”

Natasha grimaces sadly at the memory of how distant and cold she was initially before giving you a curious look.

“So why did you try to become friends with me?”

You shrug, a nostalgic expression appearing on your face. You recall the first time you spotted the lone girl curled up into herself underneath the shelter of the branches of the trees.  

“When I first saw you, you just…looked like you needed somebody on your side for once,” you admit softly before tilting your head at her. “And I thought… maybe I could be that person for you.”

Natasha’s mouth parts slightly in surprise at your answer. Before she can respond, her stunned silence is abruptly broken by the sound of the timer. 

With a gentle shake of your head, you return your focus to her hair, positioning yourself behind her.

“You don't have to apologize, Natasha,” you assure her, your voice steady and comforting, as you delicately begin to unwrap her hair. 

“Odds are I would’ve still chosen to be your friend whether I knew if you were a spy or not. And as for leaving…”

You recline her chair, her head now hovering above the washing station, as you let out a soft sad sigh and begin washing her hair.  

“People come and go throughout our lives all of the time. And most of the time, we can’t stop it from happening.”

Your voice wavers slightly, the memories of the devastation you felt when you found out Natasha had left come flooding back. 

Even though she wants to, Natasha can’t see what kind of expression you have on your face, your hand covering her eyes to shield the water from her face.

Shaking off the sad memory, you dry her hair and reposition Natasha upright. Your fingers glide through her newly shortened locks, combing them as you continue with a lighter and more upbeat tone.

“But the one thing we can do is hope that the people who truly mean something to us are the ones we’ll get to see again.”

Satisfied with the results of Natasha’s new hairstyle, your hands settle on the back of the chair, turning it so she faces the mirror.

Bending down, your head hovers beside hers as you meet her eyes in the reflection.

“And look, I got to see you again, didn’t I?” you say with a happy grin.

Natasha is stunned, her heart warmed by your words. She gazes at her reflection, admiring her new look, but her eyes keep returning to you, your words still echoing in her mind.

Oblivious to her awed stares at you, you return your focus to brushing her hair and examining it proudly.

“Do you like it?” you ask eagerly with anticipation when you finally look up back at her. 

“Yeah,” Natasha responds honestly, her gaze fixed on you. “I do.”

You give her a beaming smile at her answer, causing the corners of Natasha’s lip to quirk up fondly at the sight. 

After you do your finishing touches and declare that she’s done, Natasha stands from the chair and reaches into her pockets for the remaining money she still has on hand.

“How much do I owe?”

You wave your hand in refusal, shaking your head.

“Nothing, consider it a gift from a friend,” you insist, giving her a resolute expression, daring her to argue.

Huffing lightly under her breath at your determination, Natasha gives you a small smile as she relents with a soft, “Thank you.”

Her eyes glance at the darkness outside, seeing how late into the night it is, and she turns back to you, tilting her head in question.

“Can I at least walk you home then?” she offers.

You raise an amused brow at her, probably because your home most likely only takes less than a couple minutes walk from here. 

Still, you agree to her request with a nod, unable to resist the opportunity to prolong this time together with her.

“Alright. Let me just close up.”

After you lock the shop, the two of you walk side by side along the sidewalk to your home before you suddenly stop and point to the lone motorcycle parked across the street.

“Is that yours?” you ask curiously.

“Yes, it is,” Natasha says proudly.

“It’s nice,” you compliment before you shoot her a teasing smirk. “It’s definitely cooler than that bicycle you used to ride.”

Natasha lets out a playful offended scoff in disbelief.

“Hey, you’ve always loved it when I let you ride on the back of that bike with me,” she points out.

You chuckle at her exclamation in defense of her precious bicycle, but you don’t deny her accusation.

Your heart warms at the memory of wrapping your arms around her waist, clinging to her from behind as Natasha rides her bicycle down the neighborhood streets.

Your eyes linger on her hand at her side, wanting to feel that warmth again, but you resist the urge to reach for her. Instead, you tuck your hands behind your back as the two of you continue your path.

Once you reach your front door, you turn back around to face Natasha, a somber expression settling over you.

“Will you ever come to visit again?” you ask with a tinge of hope in your tone.

Natasha hesitates, wanting to tell you ‘yes,’ but she knows better than to make promises that she can’t keep, especially with her current situation. 

“I don’t know,” Natasha answers honestly in a soft whisper. 

You dip your head slightly, a sad smile on your lip.

Natasha swallows her own desires in her heart and gestures awkwardly behind her.

“I should…probably get going before someone sees me,” she says with a small grimace.

You nod at her in understanding, moving to unlock and open your door.

“Stay safe, Natasha,” you tell her, your voice thick with longing. “If anything, I do hope I’ll get the chance to see you again one day.” 

When you enter your home and close the door with a dull thud of finality, Natasha's hand rests gently against the solid barrier separating you. 

Leaning her forehead against the cool wood, she whispers sadly, "Me too,” before finally turning away.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2016 (2 Months Later)

It was late one evening again when the bell above the door chimed just as you were cleaning up for the day. Looking up, a surprised and excited expression forms on your face when you see who it is.

“Can you take one more?” Natasha asks, a small smile also appearing on her face when she sees you.

With a light chuckle, you approach her, your hands clasped behind your back.

“For you, always,” you reply warmly, stopping in front of her with a fond tilt of your head.

Natasha bites her lips lightly to keep her grin from widening at your words. Just as she’s about to step closer, a gentle knock on the door behind her reminds her of her original reason for coming to see you.

“Actually, it’s not for me though,” Natasha explains before opening the door again and waving someone in.

A brown-haired girl cautiously steps into the salon at Natasha’s invitation. Her eyes look around, examining the room before falling on you with a wary gaze.

“This is Wanda,” Natasha introduces. 

The girl gives you a timid wave in greeting from her crossed arm, but she subtly retreats to a position slightly behind Natasha. 

Her expression is pinched with apprehension as if she’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you.

You recognize Wanda quickly from the nightly tv alerts, her picture now featured alongside Natasha’s after the news broke about a high-security prison break a month ago.

Before you can offer her some reassurance, another familiar face walks in.

“The perimeter is secure,” the man announces before focusing on you and extending his hand in a greeting. “Hello, I’m Steve.”

Reacting instinctively to his polite greeting, you shake his hand and introduce yourself. 

“Hi, my name’s Y/n. I’m Natasha’s friend.”

Steve raises a brow at that and gives you a skeptical look.

“Just a friend? With the way Nat talks about you, I thought she was going to pull the same move as Barton and introduce us to her secret family.”

That draws a curious look from you as you ask him.

“What did she say?”

“Well—”

A loud cough from Natasha interrupts your conversation, drawing your attention before he can continue further.

Natasha’s subtle glare silences Steve, her arms crossed in disapproval, as she grits out to him, “Didn’t you say you wanted to see if you could find a place to resupply?”

Hearing this and wanting to offer some help, you raise your hand to get their attention and interject, “Most places around here are closed at this time, but…” 

You pause as you go to the back and retrieve your keys and offer them to Steve, explaining, “...there is a convenience store around the corner that belongs to my ex’s grandparents. They gave me a spare key for if I ever need something. Just write down what you take and leave the money behind the counter. Oh, and the security cameras don’t actually work, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Steve takes the keys from you with a grateful nod. 

“Thank you, this’ll help us out a lot.”

He then turns to Natasha and Wanda.

“I'll meet up with you two when you finish up here then,” he says, heading towards the door.

“I can come help you,” Wanda offers, moving to follow Steve, but Natasha blocks her path with a knowing expression.

“You said you wanted to change your look since we’ll be going into hiding,” she reminds Wanda who twists her lips in disappointment when she realizes she failed to escape.

“I didn’t think that meant we would be forcing someone to do it for me,” Wanda says, still glancing at you with apprehension.

You wave your hand in reassurance, interjecting quickly, “Oh, I don’t mind. Natasha’s not forcing me to do this. I’m happy to help.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Steve declares with an acknowledging nod to you. “Thanks again, Y/n.”

After a pointed gesture from Natasha, Wanda settles into one of the chairs with a small sigh.

Natasha leans against the counter facing you and Wanda as you move to your position behind the chair.

“So, what color did you want to dye your hair?” you ask her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Wanda replies with a resigned tone, her eyes downcasted and focused on her hands in her lap.

You frown slightly in concern at her defeated attitude, and you look at Natasha, giving her a meaningful look.

“What do you think, Natasha? I believe I got some new colors recently. Maybe purple or green would fit her,” you ponder out loud as if actually considering those options.

Wanda’s head shoots up in shock as she sputters incredulously, “Green?”

Natasha grins, catching on to your intentions, as she shrugs casually at your suggestions, adding, “You could never go wrong with blue.” 

You laugh at her comment, nodding in agreement.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Wanda says quickly, a hint of exasperation in her voice. She points seriously at the two of you. “No to all those. I don’t want it to be that big of a change.”

Her voice lowers to a sad but determined tone.

“I don’t want it to be as if they succeeded in forcing me to change who I am,” Wanda admits as she stares down at her hands where a red ball of mist flows between her fingers in a gentle pattern.

“Well, the great thing about changing your hair is that ultimately whatever you decide, it’s your choice to make,” you say, your gaze meeting Natasha’s slightly widened eyes, before continuing firmly, “No one can take that decision from you.”

Wanda contemplates your words for a moment and then nods at you decisively.

“Can you lighten my hair into an auburn color?” she asks.

You give her a gentle smile and nod, replying, “Alright then. Auburn it is.”

Before you touch her hair, you give her a questioning look and ask, “Are you comfortable for me to touch your hair and start?”

Wanda blinks at you in surprise, and her tense posture relaxes slightly when she realizes you’re asking for her permission.

With a nod, she responds softly, “Go ahead.”

As you work on Wanda’s hair, Natasha watches you intently with a fond look in her eyes, lost in her thoughts at the sight of you and glad that she had this opportunity to see you again.

Before she knows it, you’re already finishing up applying the last coatings of the dye on Wanda’s hair when you suddenly speak up.

“You know, I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads,” you state casually before meeting Natasha’s eyes with a teasing smile.

“Are you trying to say that you don’t have a soft spot for me now that I’m blonde?” Natasha asks with an amused raise of a brow.

You shrug nonchalantly and hum in thought as if having to contemplate the answer.

Natasha huffs in disbelief and rolls her eyes slightly at you.

However, your words remind her of what you mentioned earlier to Steve, and Natasha can’t help but ask curiously.

“Was your ex also a redhead?” she asks, her tone seemingly casual.

“Impressive, your deduction skills as a spy must be really good,” you tease, chuckling lightly, as you return your focus to Wanda’s hair.

“The two of you must’ve been pretty serious for their grandparents to still trust you like that,” Natasha says, unable to hide the slight bitterness of the thought slipping into her tone.

You laugh and shake your head quickly in denial.

“No, definitely not. She moved away years ago, and our relationship didn’t really end on good terms. My close relationship with her grandparents is kind of like my revenge on her. Plus, they’re actually a sweet old couple.”

“Oh,” Natasha says, a small breath of relief releasing from her.

“I’m not really seeing anyone at the moment,” you admit softly.

“Natasha’s single too,” Wanda chimes in, her focus originally on the sitcom playing on the tv but now looking between the two of you with interest.

“That’s a surprise,” you say with a laugh as you go into the back to retrieve some things.

Natasha chuckles lightly as you leave before giving Wanda the same warning glare that she gave Steve. Unfazed, Wanda just gestures with her head encouragingly in your direction.

However, Natasha shakes her head resolutely in a silent reply to her, and before Wanda can attempt to convince her further, you come back and begin doing the last steps on Wanda’s hair.

With one final brush of Wanda’s newly red hair, you declare happily, “All finished.”

“Thanks, Y/n,” Wanda says as she stands from the chair and goes to examine her hair in the mirror.

You watch as a small smile appears on her face, and you let out a breath of relief, glad to finally see Wanda in a moment of happiness. 

Natasha comes up next to you and holds out some money in an offer. 

“Thank you for doing this,” Natasha says.

You shake your head in refusal, your hands folded behind you as you face her.

“I’m sure you all need this more than I do,” you say resolutely.

Natasha chuckles lightly and huffs in disbelief.

“You know, you can’t always give me free passes like this every time. You should be paid for your work,” Natasha points out.

You hum in thought before tilting your head at her with a questioning look.

“How about dinner?” you suggest.

A surprised expression appears on Natasha’s face, but she hesitates to answer, facing the same situation again of wanting to accept your offer, but a beep at her side along with the message that comes with it reminds her why she can’t.

“Steve’s on his way back. I have to take Wanda back to the safe house and then we’re moving right after,” she explains sadly with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Nat. I know,” you say gently in understanding, taking a small step back from her and changing your tone into one lighter. 

“But if you’re ever in the area again, you’re always welcome here.” 

You turn to look at Wanda, adding, “All of you.”

“Can I walk you back home at least?” Natasha asks.

Before you can respond, the sound of a car pulling up outside catches your attention, and based on Natasha’s disappointed expression, you know that’s probably Steve.

“It’s okay, Natasha. You can go,” you reassure her, offering a comforting smile.

Wanda gives you a small wave goodbye as she exits, but Natasha lingers at the door, her gaze fixed on you.

“About before…” she starts before hesitating and trailing off into silence as she presses her lips together in contemplation.

When her shoulder drops slightly in defeat and disappointment, you know she’s decided against whatever she’s about to say.

“You can just tell me later,” you suggest. “You know, whenever I get to see you again.”

Though you both know that you don’t know when that’ll be.

“Right,” Natasha agrees, her smile tinged with sadness as she gives you one last glance and moving to leave. “I’ll see you next time, Y/n.”

After closing up, you head home, the events of the evening replaying in your mind.

Though the goodbye was bittersweet, you’re still happy you got a chance to see Natasha again so soon and even meet the other important people in her life.

As you step out of your bathroom, just finished with a shower, a knock on your door interrupts your thoughts. 

You check who it is before quickly unlocking and opening the door for them.

“Hey…” Natasha’s voice trails off, her gaze taking in your appearance. 

Remnants of water from the shower still remain on your exposed skin since you decided to wear some light clothing to counter the warm temperature outside.

Leaning against the doorway, you greet her with a curious tilt of your head at her sudden silence.

“Hey,” you reply in greeting.

Natasha shakes her head lightly as if coming out of a daze and gestures in a direction behind her.

“So, uh, Steve said that he can take Wanda back to the safe house. She really loves her hair by the way. Um, she also told me that I should..uh..I should see you again before we leave…”

Your lips twitch in amusement at Natasha’s endearing ramble, your gaze softening as you continue to listen.

“…but it looks like you’re probably about to go to sleep, so I should just go,” Natasha concludes, turning to leave.

“Wait,” you call out, your hand instinctively reaching towards her, but you stop yourself before you touch her, your hand retracting back to your side, a mixture of hesitation and longing in your movements.

Natasha pauses at your request, and when she sees your hesitating action, her features soften in understanding.

Stepping back closer to you, she extends her hand in invitation.

“You can touch me, Y/n,” Natasha reassures you. “I never have a problem if it’s you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, touched by her trust. 

Tentatively, you reach out, your hand finding hers, before checking for any signs of discomfort but end up seeing none from her. 

Your hand then trails up lightly to her shoulder and then to the back of her neck, your fingers play with the strands of her short hair as you watch her carefully.

Natasha closes her eyes at your touch, the same serene expression appearing on her face as before.

Seeing this, you bring your other hand to cup her cheek as you urge gently.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier?” 

Natasha opens her eyes and meets your gaze with an affectionate look, her hand moving up to hold the back of yours as she responds.

“That it was real,” she confesses softly.

You furrow your brows lightly in confusion, prompting Natasha to clarify.

“Your question from before,” she explains. “It was real for me too.”

Natasha lets out a shaky breath as she continues, “I loved that I had you on my side back then, and the truth is…I’d love to have you by my side now.”

Surprised by her admission, you search her eyes but only find genuine warmth and sincerity in her gaze. 

Natasha’s smile softens, and you find yourself drawn to her at the action, unconsciously leaning in closer.

Even though Natasha gave you permission earlier to touch her, this desire that you have is different, so you give her the same questioning look that you always have before and ask hesitantly in a breathless whisper.

“Can I kiss you?”

Natasha chuckles lightly under her breath at your question, resting her forehead against yours.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

With a gentle pull, you close the small distance between the two of you, sharing a tender kiss with her. Her lips are soft against yours, fitting perfectly and enveloping you with the same warmth that you've always felt from her.

When you finally pull away, your breath still mingling with hers, Natasha gives you a teasing grin.

“So, about that dinner?” 

Laughing, you roll your eyes fondly and wrap your arms around her to pull her into your home.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2018 (2 Years Later)

The soft rustling of movement reaches your ears, pulling you from your sleep. You glance at the clock on the nightstand, its dim glow showing the late hour, before turning your gaze to the familiar figure standing beside the bed, quietly slipping her shirt over her frame with practiced ease. 

“Nat?”

At the sound of your voice, Natasha turns back to you, her expression reassuring as she moves to sit beside you. Her hand rests gently on your shoulder, stopping you when she sees that you’re about to sit up.

“Go back to sleep, moya lyubov,” Natasha whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Wanda and Vision missed their check-in, so Steve and I are just going to check up on them real quick.”

A flicker of unease flares within you at the news, coupled with the realization that Natasha intends to go straight toward potential unknown dangers.

Your hand reaches out and grips her arms, a surge of unsettling fear tightening in your chest. 

“Natasha, don’t…” 

Don’t go 

The words are trapped in your throat as you stare at her. 

Holding your gaze, Natasha’s eyes reflect both love and determination. 

Love for you…and for her makeshift family.

And as much as you wish for her safety, you know you can’t keep her from her loyalty and duty to them.

With a bittersweet smile, you cradle her face in your hands, suppressing the selfish urge to ask her to stay.

“Don’t take too long to come back,” you manage, a hint of teasing in your voice as you catch a strand of her blonde hair in your hand. “We wouldn’t want your hair to be two different colors by the time you return.”

Natasha chuckles lightly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your lips.

“It’s going to be a quick trip. I’ll be back soon,” she promises.

You pull her close, giving her another lingering kiss, before wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug and tucking your head against her shoulder. 

“And I’ll be here when you do,” you whisper against her in a promise in return.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2023 (5 Years Later)

In the quiet solitude of the salon, Natasha stands alone, the weight of the five years after the snap hangs heavy in the air. 

A mixture of exhaustion and sorrow is etched on her face as she examines the space.

With a weary sigh, she rubs at her eyes, wiping away the stray tears at the memories of you. She remembers vividly her last moments with you, your unspoken words to her. 

The truth is she knew, deep down, what you were about to say to her at that time. And she understood why you stopped yourself. 

Because if you had asked her not to go, she would’ve chosen to stay with you without any hesitation.

Seating herself in one of the chairs, Natasha meets her reflection in the mirror with unwavering determination.

Her hair has grown out to its former length over the past five years. Yet, traces of the dyed parts you did for her still linger at the tips. 

Those strands of blonde color are her lifeline — a connection to the part of her life that she holds dear. 

They serve as a constant reminder to keep going.

To keep fighting for a way to bring everyone back. 

To bring you back. 

Because amidst all the uncertainties of the world and the future, one thing remains steadfast in Natasha’s heart — she would do anything to see you again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n : Thank you for reading!

Part 2

[postracehair]

detour

george russell x reader | 1.8k

you get in a car crash. a very handsome and very familiar man stops to help.

cw: fem!reader, car crash, blood, minor injuries. george is the star, alex in the background because he's a sweetie. hospitals and some flirting. short and sweet!

a/n: first time trying him out, but any excuse to write george saying blimey. --

Later, you'll be able to recall it in flashes.

The empty road, the voice telling you which way to go slightly patchy due to weak signal. The setting sun coloring the sky a brilliant pink, a sense that you might be lost. Waiting for the light to turn green, not a car in sight. It does, and you ease your way through the crossroads. Then -- an awful sound, spinning, closing your eyes and bracing yourself. A sharp pain, no air in your lungs, an eerie silence and then the squeal of tires.

In the moment, it takes you a few breaths to figure out what's happened. One thing at a time, you think. Wiggle toes -- check. Fingers? Check. You can see that the airbag has deployed, which explains the soreness of your chest but it doesn't hurt to breathe. Slowly, you unbuckle your seatbelt and notice that there's blood down the front of your shirt.

"Fuck," you mutter. Your forehead is tacky with it and you wince. Your neck feels a bit stiff and when you turn your head to the side too quickly your vision swims. "Oh, god."

A few moments to rest, then. You need to find your phone and call for help. The sun is almost down and there are no cars back here -- how on earth did someone hit you and drive away?

The longer you sit there the more your head starts to pound. A whisper says you shouldn't fall asleep because -- why? You can't find the word. What were you meant to be doing? Oh, your phone. Where is it? You don't see it by the gear shift, maybe it fell under the seat. God, bending over sends a rush of blood that has you groaning. Plan B. Sit here a little longer.

You're trying valiantly to keep your eyes open when you hear it -- an engine. It gets closer and closer and you expect it to pass you by but the car comes to an abrupt stop and someone gets out.

"Call 999!" they shout. Sounds like a man. "Blimey, there's blood on the window."

A shape appears and the car door opens and there stands -- a man. A tall man. He crouches down so you can see his face. Big blue eyes and a square jaw, pieces of fringe curling over his forehead. Pretty, your bruised brain supplies.

"Hello," he says gently. "Are you alright?"

"Where did you come from?" you ask. His features swim a bit but something is nagging at you. "I think I know you."

His brows furrow. "Alex," he calls behind him. "Are they coming?"

"Yeah," someone shouts back. "They're asking how she is."

The man's attention returns to you. "I'm George, and that's Alex. We're going to help you, okay?" You grunt an assent. "Now, I'm not a doctor," he says, "but do you think you can tell me where you're hurt?"

You try to focus. "I don't think anything is broken. But my head --" You reach for your forehead again but George catches your wrist with long fingers before you can.

"Think you hit it on the window," he explains. "Best not to touch it. Bit of a nasty cut."

Suddenly, you're desperate to get out of the car. "Can you -- I need to --" You tug at the seatbelt.

"George," the other man calls. Alex.

"Concussion," George says. "I think. Mate, I don't know. She's not slurring, but she's confused."

He reaches over you and unbuckles the seatbelt. You swing your legs out of the car and try to stand up. George quickly grabs your hands as you sway.

"Woah," he says. "Are you sure you want to --"

This close it's apparent how tall he is and recognition sparks once again. "I swear I know you from somewhere," you repeat, but it comes out as a croak.

"Do you?" he says lightly. "Alex, can I have the water bottle?"

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to focus. Fuck, your head hurts. It's like the ability to think clearly has simply left you.

"Yeah, you --," you look at him again. He's got a plastic bottle in one hand now, black with a teal wording on it that you recognize. "You...drive cars."

"Well done," George says, smiling. "Do you want some of this?" He hands it to you when you nod and you take slow sips. He keeps a hand lightly on your elbow.

Something occurs to you. "You didn't hit me, did you?" You're pretty sure he didn't but everything is so muddled.

"No," he says, firmly. "No, I promise I didn't." He gently turns you so you're facing the car. It's not a pretty sight. "I think some wanker clipped you at the rear and send you spinning into the pole."

The driver's side tail light is totally shattered and you see that he's right -- the light pole is firmly lodged into the passenger side door.

"Fuck," you whisper. "Where's the other car?" you ask. You know this, you think, but can't put the pieces together.

George lets out an angry huff. "Drove away, looks like."

You frown. "Well, that's not very nice." Your head pounds again and you groan. "I think I need to --"

"Woah, woah," George says. "Let's sit down."

He guides you to his car and helps you down into the passenger seat. You keep your feet firmly on the ground and take more sips of his water.

"What's your name?" he asks, crouching down to speak to you. He's so tall you're almost eye level. "Can you remember that?"

"I'm not that bad off," you scoff, and tell him. "And you --" The piece slots into place. "You're George Russell."

He grins at you. "I'm flattered," he says. "How's the head?"

You press your eyes closed tight. "Hurts," you say. "Am I still bleeding?"

"Not terribly," he replies. "It'll be alright. I think I hear --"

The siren hits your ears, cutting him off. "That's loud," you mutter. George squeezes your knee and stands.

He takes a step towards your ruined car. "Where are you going?" you ask. It sounds like a whine but you can't find it in you to care.

"Just going to get your things," he says lightly. "So you have them in hospital."

"Oh," you breathe. You allow him to walk across the road and lean into your car, searching for your stuff. He manages to find your phone and sets your purse at your feet just as the ambulance pulls up, siren blessedly off.

You look up at George. "Thank you," you say. "Thank you so much --"

He waves you off. "Please," he says. "Listen, I've put my contact in your phone, and I'll get your car sorted, alright?"

"Are you --" Before you can ask him more, the paramedics take over. You're asked questions, given a few quick tests, while George speaks to one of them off to the side. They load you into the back of the ambulance.

"I'll see you later, okay?" he calls. You just nod and lean back on the bed. The doors are shut and you're on your way.

"Nice bloke," one of the paramedics says. "Never met him before. More of a Red Bull man, myself, but glad he was decent. Do you know him?"

You blink. It's very bright in here. "No," you say. "No, he just stopped to help."

"See?" the man says again. "Decent sort. Now, if he could just get a decent racing car --"

__

Since George gave you your stuff, you manage to call the necessary people to tell them what's happened.

"Few bruises tomorrow," the nurse tells you. She's cleaned your forehead and butterfly bandaged it. "But no stitches. You're a lucky one. Now, that blow to your head isn't too bad, but do try to take it easy. Nothing more than some walks and stay off your phone and TV if you can help it for a week or so."

You nod, thankful for the painkillers she's had you swallow. The throbbing has dulled and you can think a little more clearly.

"Now, last thing," she says. Is she...smirking at you? "You said you've got a ride, but there's a very handsome man waiting for you, too."

"What?" you say. You've called a friend and she's going to pick you up but...is George here?

The nurse taps her nose and tells you you're free to go.

You slowly walk back to the waiting room, unsure of what you'll find. But as soon as you're through the doors, you hear your name.

George unfolds himself from one of the chairs and you meet in the middle. You really thought he'd just call, or something, to tell you about the car. But he's here.

"There you are," he says, as though you've been parted for eons. "I wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I'm alright," you tell him. He smiles and takes a step towards you, eyes on your forehead.

"That doesn't look too bad now," he says. "Shame about your shirt, though." His hand hovers in the air near your face like he wants to touch you, but he doesn't.

He's right about your shirt -- it's a lost cause. Collar soaked in blood and the front looking like you were an extra in a horror movie.

You shrug. "Not how I thought my day would go."

George winces. "I'd imagine not," he says. "Listen, I've sorted the car. A tow company has it and I'll send you their information. It's a bit of a lost cause, the bloke said, but I've given them your name and number and if you call your insurance --"

You put a hand on his arm. He's warm through the fabric of his sweater. He stops speaking immediately.

"George," you say, softly. "Thank you." He blinks at you, eyes remarkably blue, before he gives you an easy smile.

"Of course," he says. "I'm just glad we came along."

"Me too." You let him go and swallow.

"Do you need a ride?" he says, suddenly. "Alex has just gone to get petrol but he'll be back and we can take you anywhere you need to go."

Your chest tightens with regret. Objectively unnecessary, since you don't know this very famous man, but you wish you could say yes all the same.

"I've called my friend, actually," you say gingerly. "She's coming to get me."

"Good." George runs a hand through his hair, that brown fringe falling over his forehead the way it did when he crouched next to you back at the accident scene. "Good, I'm glad."

Today has been wild, absolutely the last thing you expected. A car crash, meeting this man, ending up in hospital. It occurs to you that anything is possible. You're lucky the crash wasn't worse, and maybe that spurs you to say it.

"I'd love to thank you for today," you say to him, shoulders square. You make yourself look him in the eye. "Alex, too. Lunch, maybe? Once I'm over this concussion?"

You've surprised him, if his expression is anything to go by. Then he grins. "Yes," he says. "I'd love that." His grin shifts into a smirk. "Alex might be busy, though."

You grin back. "Is that so? Too bad."

[tender-rosiey]

First of all I love how kind you’ve been to non English speaking anon because as someone who had to learn English, it’s not easy!

Second of all I feel like we don’t see enough fics of jjk men rescuing us from danger! Like imagine gojo saving us from a curse and being like “you know there are better ways to get my attention?” IDUNNO I FELT THE NEED TO SHARE THIS ISDEA 😭

one more — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: it’s nothing <3 a lot of us, including myself, were in there place before so it should be the normal to be patient with them <3

you’re done for, completely and utterly done for.

you’re going to die today and it won’t be because of being stabbed by someone or something normal. no. you were going to get eat by, possibly, the most disgusting and slimy creature you’ve ever seen.

you don’t falter and still fight though, thrashing around in its hold, “let me go you two-toed slimy sewer looking rat!”

the curse seems to have taken great offense to your words cause it frowns then starts swinging you around. It would probably sue you if it could but it settles for preparing to eat you. you start screaming and letting your colorful vocabulary of curses at it.

your cursed technique long forgotten since lo and behold that curse was your natural enemy. so you have nothing to do except to curse it out till it starts crying or something.

just before you’re dropped in its mouth, a figure swiftly catches you and teleports you somewhere safe, a little far away from said curse. you look up and are met with a grinning gojo, “y’know…there are better ways to get my attention than this.”

he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “you don’t need to be in danger for me to notice you, sweets.”

you snap out of your daze, “I wasn’t trying to get your attention!” you huff as you try to get down but his hold on you doesn’t falter, “oh great, I am released from the shackles of a curse only to be trapped in yours.”

he pouts, pulling you closer and nuzzling your noses together, “aw come on now; I deserve a kiss for this, wifey.”

you shake your head and he sulks, turning to walk away from the scene. you look at the curse then up at him like he has grown two heads, “satoru, what’re you doing?”

“I am not fighting until you give me a kiss.”

you gasp and turn to look at the curse once again. it is contained and won’t harm anyone but you can’t just leave it like that so you look back at your crazy attention-loving husband, “you can’t be serious.”

“I am one hundred percent serious,” he announces but he stops, smirking at you, “so?”

he should be smacked for his smugness but that will be saved for later especially when he continues talking, “I was the brave and strong husband who just saved you, after all.”

so you take a hold of his collar and pull him down, smashing your lips against his. he kisses you back instantly and you guys keep at it a for a while until you smack his shoulder, remembering that there is a curse roaming around.

“that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he says after pulling back, grinning from ear to ear.

you pat his cheek softly and roll your eyes, “haha, very funny,” you point at the audacious curse, “now go deal with it!”

he puts you down then salutes, “yes ma’am!”

satoru then turns around to walk towards it but he suddenly stops in his track. you, who sat on the ground with your favorite drink that satoru got, groan, “what is it now?”

tilting his head so he can meet your eyes, he smiles, “what about one more kiss?”

you are about to reprimand him yet again but then he interrupts you, “on the cheek! so you don’t have to worry about it getting anywhere—at least not now!“

“I should put tape on your mouth so you shut up for a bit,” you stand up and walk towards him, “satoru, you make me think that I spoil you too much,” you hum, straightening his collar.

he puffs his chest with a pout, “is it bad that I want affection from my wife?”

you shake your head as you signal for him for him to bend down and he does so gladly, “no, but you need to get your priorities straight.”

he hums a thank you when you give him the anticipated kiss before he replies, “this is my priorities being straight.”

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, “then I have to explain to you how to prioritize correctly.”

he leans close, lips mere centimeters apart from your own, “a private lesson, huh? I don’t mind—“

you push him away with your index finger, “but later! you have a curse to deal with mister.”

reluctantly, he walks towards it, steps heavy. he looks back at you with a pout, trying to convince you once again, but you don’t falter. you’re already used to his antics and can resist them—to an extent.

giving up, satoru looks at the curse, “you ready to get beaten?”

the curses shakes its head quickly and satoru shrugs, “well, you will anyway,” the curse cries but satoru continues, “and in a heartbeat cause I have a pretty wife to get back to.”

the curses attempts to run away but satoru quickly blasts it and it’s nowhere to be found anymore.

a smile is plastered on his face and there is a spring in his step as he walks—or rather runs back to you, “date time, y/n!”

you don’t know why, but you run away, “but I wanna sleep!”

perhaps instinct.

there is no time to think about it, though, since satoru gasps offended before quickly responding, “we can just cuddle then,” he teleports right in front do you and you bump into his chest.

you grumble and he laughs while holding you up, “so what do you say? some cuddling will be pretty nice.”

“yeah, whatever,” you mumble as your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. he presses a loud smooch to your head, ready for at least an hour of cuddling.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[pit-and-the-pen]

(Nothing But) Flowers

a smutty Eris fic for @tsunami-of-tears's birthday! Happy Birthday! Here's some Eris sex pollen to hopefully add to a wonderful day <3

Eris x reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Sex Pollen, fingering, p in v sex, praise, Porn without plot.

Wc: 4k

Autumn was still so beautiful to you. Despite being mated to the high lord, you were still in awe of every sight you sunk in. Spring was so different from autumn. With its trees and their myriad of colors, the way the animals scurried around silent safe for some crackling leaves under their feet. And all the new plants you got to explore. Being from spring you had grown up around the soft petaled blooms but here it was so different. Deadly mushrooms and ferns as large as houses. There was always something new for you to find. 

Which is how you ended up far off the path in the forest. Following a trail of almost glowing dust that led to a large clearing full of bright purple blooms. The smell was enticing on its own but the flowers were just so pretty, reminding you of violets. Your hand reached out to touch one of the petals and it seemed to open further to you, almost begging for you to run a finger along the petals. They were soft under your hand. Velvety almost. The pollen at the center of the bloom stuck t o your fingers. The fluff was almost as stick as tree sap and you couldn’t get it off of your fingers as you tried to brush it off on your skirt. You just stared at it, wondering why it wouldn’t leave your skin, but a tree branch snapping in the distance made you realize how dark the sky had gotten. Not wanting to figure out exactly what happened in the forest after dark, you started the trek back to the forest  house.

Despite the air temperature lowering with the sun, you felt your skin starting to heat up. You placed a gentle hand to your forehead, trying to gauge for any fever. It felt normal enough to you, nothing that would explain the way your whole body was starting to flush. It must be all the walking. You thought and just continued on your way. 

By the time you reached the house, you had shed your riding cloak and the first layer of your dress. Skin flushed, you could feel a bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck and the contrasting coolness had you squirming. 

Eris was sitting in the armchair by the fire, feet perched up and a book in his lap. His reading glasses were halfway down the bridge of his nose. Your mate turned to look at you when you entered and you saw his eyes widen. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You look like you’re burning up.” He put his book down and started walking over to you. His scent hit you full force then. Cinnamon, tart apples and a musk that was exclusively Eris. It was enough to send another wave of heat over your skin and draw a long whine from your mouth. The concern only grew in his face as he misunderstood the noise. Thinking it was due to whatever sickness was coursing through your veins and not the growing desire to jump him right then and there. 

He closed the distance between the two of you and reached a hand out to copy your earlier movements, checking for a fever. He jumped at the contact. “Sweetheart, you’re burning up. Why would you go out if you were feeling this bad?” You could only focus on the lingering feeling of his hand on your forehead, the way you leaned in closer to him at the contact. You willed your brain to listen to the words he said, his face letting you know he needed an answer. 

“I wasn’t feeling this bad when I left.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, like your tongue had been changed to iron in minutes. You fought through it as best as you could. “I was walking back to the house and I started feeling like this.”

He didn’t hesitate before he asked, “What did you do while you were there?”

It took you a while to remember. To think back on what you had done all day. 

“I was walking down the path. Just looking around at all the animals, and plants. Then I saw a few flowers that I haven't seen before and went to go look at them. They were so pretty. But they had a…” You searched for the word. “Like a sap almost.” You held out your hand to show him the lingering pollen and found that there was no sign of it, not even a residue. You stared at your hand in disbelief. You haven't washed away the sticky substance, your hands weren’;t sweaty enough on their own. Eris noticed you looking at your fingers and gently cupped your hand in his. You squirmed under the touch. You felt another wave of arousal shot through you and his eyes snapped to yours, nostrils flaring.

“Did the flowers happen to be purple, love?” He asked, voice suddenly low. You nodded and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Is that bad?” You asked, scared of his reaction. 

He must have sensed your unease and he calmed the nervous expression on his face. 

“Not bad. Necessarily. We should probably get you in the bath.” He said quickly, changing the topic. 

“Eris, what are those flowers?”

He sighed heavily. “They’re flowers that we grow specifically for Calanimia. You have the stag in spring, and we have a tea that we make from the leaves of those particular flowers. And they…well..they.” His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck as he seemingly searched for the words. It dawned on you then. A tea for Calamia.Your face flushed even more as you took in his words.

“Oh.” Was all you could think to say.

“Like I said, we should get you into a bath. Try to cool you down.” He started leading you to the bathing room attached to your bedroom but his hand on the small of your back pulled a loud moan from your mouth. The heat on your skin is almost searing under the weight of his hand. You arched into the touch as you felt your wetness start to coat your inner thigh. Eris swore under his breath, fingers clutching at the fabric of your dress, trying to steady himself. You turned around to face him and were met with his blown out pupils. His jaw was set tight, teeth picking at the skin of his lip as he stared back at you. All the heat evaporated from your body at that look, pooling into your stomach and breasts. Both started to ache in a delicious way that had you surging forward to capture your mates lips on yours. 

He held you gently, lightly returning the kiss. A groan of frustration left you as you tried to deepen the kiss but he just pulled you away from him.

“Sweetheart.”

“Please Eris. I feel like I’m on fire right now. It’s…Gods it’s like the fucking mating frenzy all over again.” You pleaded and you were telling the truth. Eris and you were unable to keep your hands off of each other for nearly a month when you accepted the bond. It got to the point where you had to send servants away because of the amount of times that they had caught you in various areas of the house. Even then, when you borough them back, you noticed the lack of male servants in the forest house. This burning was so similar, but somehow worse. Fat tears started forming in your eyes at the thought of him not touching you. Even now you were wondering why he wasn’t already inside of you. You could smell his arousal and a quick glance down at the front of his pants showed that he was already mouth wateringly hard. 

“I know. But let’s get you into some cold water and see how you feel after that.” You perked up at the idea. You would have to be undressed to take a bath. And you knew your husband. He was never one to say no for taking you in the tub. So you let him lead you up to your bedroom, knees slightly wobbly like a baby deer. 

He kept the touching to a minimum. Not wanting to rile you up any further, plus his hands were buddy trying to keep yours off of him. 

By the time you two both got to the bathing room, he practically had to pin your arms to your side to keep you from unbuttoning more of his shirt. A heavy pout graced your soft features and he only pulled your lips together before he started to slowly unlace your dress. 

You leaned into his chest as he undid the strings of your corset. Nothing like you normally wore, just a casual walking corset and a single layer of dresses thanks to you discarding part of your outfit earlier. But when his knuckle dragged across the bare skin of your back as he pushed the corset down, you shuddered violently against his touch. His arm snaked around your waist to keep you from collapsing into a puddle on the floor. 

He placed you on the bathroom counter before going to fill the tub. You felt your brain fogging even more as you watched Eris’ back muscles contract. The sight was enough to make you drool. You couldn’t help the thought of how his muscles would flex as he was pounding into you. Eris stiffened as soon as the image popped into your head. Your intoxicated state must have opened up the bond wide and clear for him because you were able to smell his arousal in the room. It almost floated towards you, wrapping around your whole body and making you want to drown in it. 

“Eris.” You whined. You saw the small shake of his head before he turned to face you. 

“Sweetheart.” He took one look at you, the way your skin was flushed, your pupils too-wide pupils, and he moved towards you. He took two long steps before he froze. “Gods. You look good enough to eat but I….” He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, sending a calming caress down the bond. 

Eris picked you up and pried off your arms as he deposited you in the bath. A hiss rushed past your teeth at the cold temperature. He sighed a little and placed his hand in the water, warming it ever so slightly that the goosebumps on your arms went away. 

“Can you come in too?” You asked him, the water clearing your mind a little. Washing away some of the raging heat but leaving you craving your mate none the less. 

“If I do, you have to keep your hands to yourself? Do you think you can do that for me?” He was speaking slowly, giving you time to process his words. You frowned slightly at the idea but nodded anyways, desperate to feel your mate in any way. He placed a small kiss on your forehead and rose to his feet to start taking off his own clothes. 

You didn’t take your eyes away for a second, afraid to even blink and miss the sight in front of you. Inch by inch all of his wonderful body was exposed to you. His pants were last, pulled off his feet with his boxers in a swift movement. Your eyes zeroed in on his hard cock. The tip bright red. He followed your eye line and somehow managed to get you to look in his eyes. 

“Remember what I said?” He asked simply, voice still soft. 

“No touching.” You responded and that seemed confirmation enough for him to climb in behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. It took every bit of self control you had to keep your arms pinned to your side. The rational part of your brain reminding you that he was doing this for your safety. For your comfort. 

So you leaned into his touch, savoring the bit of himself he was giving you. Your head was resting on the middle of his chest. Just content to sit in the water with him. But as soon as you got comfortable, another wave of desire pulsed through you. Somehow stronger than before. The feeling made your skin tight, almost itchy and it was painful. You let out a quiet whine, trying to hold back the sound from reaching your mates ears. It obviously didn't work. He would have been able to hear the discomfort if he was in the other room, plus you knew he could feel it being sent down the bond. His arms started to trail lightly up and down your side, resting on your shoulders where he lightly tried to knead out some of the tension resting on them.

The calming action seemed to have the exact opposite effect. HIs hands might as well have been between your legs with the searing pleasure it brought you. A deep moan left your lips that had Eris stiffening again behind you. You felt his touch start to recede and reached a hand up to keep him there. But you remembered the condition he gave you. 

“Please, don’t stop.” You whined out pathetically. Much to your delight, his hands didn’t leave your shoulders. But they stayed still, not wanting to cause another reaction. 

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, the pressure between your legs slowly building hotter and hotter. 

Eris dragged his lips lightly over the junction between your neck and shoulders. You shuddered against him. When he spoke, his lips were right against your ear. 

“Can I try something, my love?” You could have cried at his words, relief rushing through you and causing you to relax further into him. 

“Yes, nother above, Eris please.”

“I know it hurts but I want to see if I can help just a little.” At his words, you felt his fingers gently wrap around your front. Hands slightly warm as he reached for your breasts. Grabbing one of your taunt nipples in between the long digits and putting the perfect amount of pressure on it. When you cried out, he repeated the motion on the other side. Letting you squirm against him, soaking up the pleasure he was giving you. 

ONe of his hands started to glide down your stomach, searing a trail down between your legs. You screamed his name as his finger made contact with your swollen clit. Hips already bucking into his hand. He wrapped his legs over yours, pinning you in place. 

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself, sweetheart. Just sit back and let me do the work.” He said before he resumed his earlier kisses along your neck as he started to slowly circle his finger on your clit. Your head was thrown back, eyes already squeezed tight as you clutched the edge of the tub, knuckles white as you tried to fight the urge to grip his arms. His hand that was still kneading your breast came and gently moved your hand to his thigh. Instantly you clawed your hand around it, grateful for the grounding presence. 

You could already feel your peak nearing, your moans and cries reaching a higher pitch. Garbled version of Eris’ name leaving your lips signaled just how close you were. He sped his fingers up, drawing tighter, faster circles that had you seeing stars. You back arched off of his chest as you felt yourself about to fall over the edge. His teeth lightly nipping at your neck was all you needed to fall apart. Your body jerked at the force of your orgasm, hips twisting as much as you were allowed to. You could still feel your walls clenching around nothing as Eris swiftly drove two fingers inside your aching hole. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, back still arched, head facing the ceiling. Your nails bit into Eris’ thigh, harder than you meant to but as he sunk his fingers in and out of you, you couldn’t find a way to realize your hand. All your brain seemed to be able to do was focus on his thick fingers inside of you, the cold metal of his wedding ring hitting the inside of your thigh. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so good for me.” you whined at his words, unable to respond. 

“I know it hurts but you’re being so good. Just cum for me.” And his words were enough to push you over the edge again. Already so worked up from your first orgasm. His fingers didn’t stop though as you screamed his name. It was hard to tell where one orgasm started and the other one stopped after that. His fingers refused to stop until you were scratching at his wrist, pleading for him to at the very least slow down. He milked one last orgasm from you, fingers brushing against the soft spot deep inside of you and pulled his fingers out from your aching center slowly. You turned around in the tub, facing him before you rested your head against his chest. You heartbeat was frantic at this point but nothing compared to his. 

When you looked at Eris, his face was flushed matching your own. His lip looked like he had spent a good amount of time between his teeth. You placed a small kiss to the small indents on his bottom lip. 

You just rested against his chest, Eris using his powers to keep the bath warm while you came back down to earth. Once you couldn’t hear your heartbeat in your ears anymore, he helped you climb out of the bath. Thinking clearly for the first time in what felt like hours, you blushed. 

“Thank you.” You said to your mate while he helped you dry off, avoiding your breast and between your legs. He slipped one of his shirts over your head, letting it fall past your thighs.The fire was still there but was tamed down to a dull roar. Nothing like the all consuming feeling from earlier. Eris had a self-satisfied grin on his face when he captured your cheek in his hand, pulling you to him as he layed back on the bed. You could feel how hard he still was, even through his sleep pants. 

“Eris…”

“I’ll be fine.” He said in a sleepy voice. He sounded more worn out than you did at the moment. 

“But I don’t want to sleep…” You trailed off as you started running your hand down his bare chest. He groaned when you ran a single finger along the line where his pants sat, hips slightly bucking towards your hand. You looked up at him, his eyes closed, hair still damp from the bath and felt desire sink back into your bones. You paused for a second as your hand dipped into his waistband. He nodded his head, eyes now looking down at you. That was all it took for you to pull his pants down just enough for his cock to spring against his stomach. Your mouth watered at the pretty pink flush it had and as much as you wanted to take him into your mouth the ache between your legs was too much to ignore now. So you quickly slung your leg over his hips and grabbed his throbbing cock in your hand. He let out a string of curses as you ran his tip through your drenched folds, once, twice and then began to sink down onto him. your hands shot out to his chest, catching yourself before you could slump against his chest. His hands were instantly on your hips, clutching at the flesh. Fingers digging in so tightly his nails were leaving behind pretty half moon indents. His throat was tight by the time you sank all the way down. Letting yourself just absorb the pleasure that was the feeling of his cock inside of you. You rocked back slightly and threw you head back at the way his tip pushed against your cervix. This was a million times better than his fingers and once you had adjusted to the feeling you were rocking back and forth on his lap. Hands helping you push off of his hips. He did his best to keep still, the strain in his face proof of that. He wanted to let you chase your high, let you get this damned pollen out of your system. But you weren’t having any of it. 

“Gods, Eris. You feel so good. Filling me up so perfectly.” You started to babble. Letting the words come out in a breathy whine. His hips bucked up as you spoke. Breaking some of the words with high pitched moans. Your nails were leaving angry red lines on his chest and the slight pain only seemed to nudge him even more. You could see the struggle in his eyes as you looked down at him. His lip was slightly bleeding because of how hard his teeth were sinking into it. You lifted a hand off of his chest and pulled his lip from his teeth. You leaned down and gave him a deep kiss. Tongue sweeping across his bottom lip to sooth the angry flesh. The hands on your hip grew slightly warmer as you started to speed your hips up. Rocking back and forth to a tempo you both loved. Your breasts were pushed against his chest from the angle of the kiss, rubbing your nipples against the smattering of hair on his chest. He whined into the kiss as you raised your hips up slowly before slamming them back down. 

“Good boy.” You teasingly muttered against his lips and that was all it took for him to lose that last little bit of control. He grabbed one of your shoulders and pulled his feet flat on the bed. The new angle forces you to sit up. He pulled the prettiest of moans from your lips. Soft cries and hiccups. You felt like he had filled your veins with electricity as he thrusted into you harder. He was grunting from the heavenly pace of his thrusts. You could only let your head fall back as you started racing towards your orgasm. 

‘Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart, come all over my cock?” He said in a mocking tone. He already knew the answer, you could feel your walls fluttering tighter against him. “Go ahead my flame.” His command had you writhing against his lap, legs shaking and it was only his hand on your shoulder guiding you that kept your hips moving. Your whole body felt so exhausted suddenly. But you focused on letting him chase his high. He kept pounding into you. Filthy grunts and moans leaving his open mouth as you felt yourself coming back down to earth after your orgasm. He gave you a few harsh, long strokes and you felt his thighs tense as he came deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum against your walls acted like a balm to the heat against your skin. Satisfying whatever senses the pollen had overtaken. You collapsed against his chest. Both of you sucking down lungfuls of air. You stayed on his chest, only moving enough to lift yourself off his softened length. You giggled a little as you felt his cum pool out of you. The both of you sat there, letting your heartbeats slow down until they're almost in sync. 

“Are you feeling any better?” He said into the crown of your head, his hand tracing feather light touches up and down your back. You just sighed happily and nuzzled further into his chest. 

“I do think we’ll have to take another bath…” You propped yourself up on your elbows, a wide smile on your face. You gave him a dramatic wink. Eris grabbed your arms and rolled you over onto your back. 

“Then let's make sure you’re properly dirty then, shall we my love?” His words made you pull him by his hair to your lips. Whatever it was seemed to be out of your system but seemed to be just getting started for your mate. 

[pomefioredove]

hi dove! since you want requests, here’s one!

could i please have "are you cake? 'cause i want a piece of that." with lilia? maybe he’s trying to learn some slang to understand the youngsters more and decides to use it on his s/o?

but that’s just an idea, feel free to do whatever you like with the prompt! <3

I've gotten the most lilia requests from these prompts than anything else hehe... I see you guys

summary: "are you cake? 'cause i want a piece of that" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, established relationship, short (more lilia content later dw), not proofread a part of this event

"Are you cake? 'Cause I want a piece of that,"

The reaction is immediate. You look at him from over your shoulder with a mystified expression, as if he had started speaking in tongues (which he does, sometimes).

It's enough to make him break character and giggle.

"Who taught you that?" you ask, turning to face him fully. "Cater again?"

Lilia tsks, waving his finger in your face. "I figured this one out all on my own. I'm not senile yet, you know,"

You roll your eyes and start walking down the hall, which he takes as a delicious invitation to tease you more.

He simply can't resist when it comes to you, and you know it.

Oh, you know him far too well.

"Aw... you didn't like it? Not even a little?" he feigns a pout, trailing alongside you. "I thought it was rather charming. Dashing, even! So much more colorful than the lines we had in my day..."

"Now I'm afraid to ask what those were," you sigh, though you're smiling.

He laughs again, amused by your attempt at acting annoyed. "I suppose I can spare you the burden of knowing. Shall I try another contemporary one?"

"Is it going to be corny?"

He smiles deviously. "Afraid so. I'm saving all my good ones for tonight, after all,"

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (2 - Liar! Liar!)

Chapter Summary: You wake up one morning compelled to say the truth and nothing but the truth. Wanda seizes this opportunity to ensure everything remains under her control. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Darcy finally discover what happened to Agent Monica Rambeau. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Manipulation

A/N: Billy is my favorite twin, if that isn't obvious already :P // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It doesn’t require a calendar to track the days here in Westview.

It's the kind of repetition that settles over suburban life, where dates fade into insignificance and days blur into a seamless loop, distinguishable only by the changing seasons. But even the current season—fall—is as predictable in its passage as ever, like storybook weather in its perfection. The birds are always chirping, the sun rises promptly at 6:40 every morning—never a minute early or a second late—and it never rains. Just endless clear skies, day after day, until the sun sets at five.

You've been chewing on this odd feeling ever since you and Wanda arrived in this part of New Jersey, but today, there's something extra. You can't pin it down, just that it's…there. Today feels different—more than usual—and you didn’t really get it until breakfast, when your mouth slipped past your usual tact with the kids.

“Mommy, do you like it?” Tommy asks, his eyes big and hopeful as he holds up a crayon drawing of what looks like the family standing outside a perfect little house. 

Perfect. Honestly, you’re getting pretty tired of everything being so perfect around here.

“It's...very colorful,” you start, the usual praise ready on your tongue, but what comes out instead is, “Though it's kind of all over the place, isn’t it? Maybe you could try to stay inside the lines a bit more.”

Speaking aloud is like sending an email: once it's out there, it's out there for good. Even so, an email would have been the better option. At least then, you could just hack into Tommy’s account—if he ever figures out how to set one up—and erase your blunder for good.

Could having a magical wife somehow save you from this mess?

It’s too late though. Tommy's face crumples, and Wanda doesn't seem keen on throwing you a lifeline, just a dirty look from across the table as you sip your morning coffee.

“But if you’re going for an abstract—” you start, but your son is already sulking off to his room. 

Billy digs into his cereal, blissfully unaware. Wanda, on the other hand, looks as if she's ready to rip open a portal to another realm and hurl you out of this one.

That can’t be good.

“You really upset him,” she says, arms crossing over her chest. “He was so proud of that drawing.”

“I know, I feel awful about it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.  Seeing your genuine remorse, Wanda eases up, giving you a moment to stew in your guilt before she comes back to the table with a stack of pancakes.

“Here, eat up,” she says, setting them down in front of you.

You pick up your fork, cutting into the stack. They look perfect—golden brown, with the butter melting just right. You take a bite, and before you can stop yourself, the words are out.

“They're a bit dry,” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words. But once you start, you can't seem to stop. “And this maple syrup... it tastes kind of artificial.” 

Wanda gasps. “Excuse me?”

“Shit—”

“Language, Y/N!” she snaps, but it's too late, the curse is already out there, floating in the air like a bad smell. 

In the next moment, something strange happens—your lips tingle, and suddenly you can't feel your mouth. Alarmed, you touch your face, finding smooth skin where your lips should be. You try to protest, but only muffled noises emerge. Fear surges as you point frantically at your face. You attempt to scream, but no sound comes out.

Seeing your flustered pantomime, Wanda’s face goes from angry to horrified. With a wave of her hand, your mouth is back in its place, and you’re gasping, both of you staring at each other, not believing what just happened. Meanwhile, Billy is giggling, clapping his tiny hands together, and gleefully repeating the S-word you accidentally let slip earlier. 

You and Wanda just continue to stare at each other in shock, but then you glance at Billy, his innocent delight completely oblivious to the fact he’s saying something he shouldn’t, and you see the corners of Wanda’s mouth start to twitch. A moment later, she’s laughing unabashedly, and before you know it, you’re doing the same. 

Despite the peculiarities of your life here in Westview, you don't think you've ever been this content. Before Wanda, the idea of having your own family—your own kids, two no less—seemed unthinkable. You never imagined you'd have a wife, a house in a quiet suburb, or hear one of your sons swear for the first time. Westview is far from normal, but then again, so is your family. As you watch Wanda's laughter taper into soft giggles, you think it's impossible to love her any more than you already do.

Wanda made this all conceivable for you.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, though still a bit shaken by the ordeal. “I didn't mean to be so rude.”

Wanda looks even more remorseful than you feel—which makes sense, considering she did erase your mouth, however briefly.

“And I probably shouldn't have... you know, removed your mouth,” she murmurs, guiltily picking at her cuticles.

Admittedly, it was terrifying—one of the scariest experiences you've ever had. You certainly don't want a repeat. It makes you slightly wary of your wife, but your love for Wanda outweighs your fear. Standing beside one of the most powerful beings in the universe takes courage, and you've built up plenty over the years together. You're made for this—for her, for this kind of love.

“Apology accepted,” you say, mustering a weak smile.

Wanda's face floods with relief, then quickly contorts into worry. “What’s with you today?”

“I can't seem to lie,” you confess, realizing there's no easy way to skirt the truth. “I don't know what's happening, but I just can't stop saying exactly what's on my mind.”

She stares at you, confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean you can’t lie today? So, you’re usually lying?”

Before you can smooth that over, Billy looks up from his cereal, fixing you with that stern look that’s pure Wanda. “Mommy, lying is bad.”

Wanda’s gaze softens as she looks at Billy, then back at you, the seriousness returning. “Billy, why don’t you go brush your teeth and check on your brother? Your mommy and I need to talk for a little bit.”

“Okay, mama.”

Billy scampers off, and you feel your stature shrink under your wife's gaze, suddenly feeling every bit the child.

“What’s this about not being able to lie?” Wanda asks once it’s just the two of you.

You shake your head. “Look, it’s not that I usually lie, but today, I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s like a—a truth filter permanently switched off.”

Wanda takes a few moments to mull over your words. “Oh…” she starts, sounding half-convinced. “Maybe it’s stress,” she throws out after a beat. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you? Perhaps your mind is just overwhelmed and you need a mental day off.”

You had thought of that, but the whole situation seemed too weird for such a simple explanation. Then again, maybe seeing shadows where there aren't any is just another stress symptom. So you let it slide.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll see if I can call in sick next week,” you mumble, trying to sound cheerful about the prospect of a break.

Wanda comes around the table and cups your face in her hands. You let her pinch your cheeks together, feeling both stubborn and a bit sorry for yourself. It's silly, but all you want is for Wanda to coddle you and make you feel better, not to dish out logical reasons for why you’re not yourself today. 

“Well, if you're stuck with the truth, let's have some fun with it,” Wanda says.

You swallow hard, aware that any question she might ask now would either please or upset her—and there seems to be no middle ground.

“Uhm, honey, I don’t think—”

“Do you love me?”

You smirk at her; that’s an easy one. “More than anything else.”

“Only me?”

You laugh at her silly follow-up. This reminds you of the early days of your courtship when Wanda was a bottomless well of need. You didn't mind at all, knowing she needed to hear it as often as you made her feel it. Initially, you were a bit bothered, wondering if your actions weren't speaking loudly enough for her to trust you. Eventually, it became less frequent, until the question turned into a statement—You love me—to which you responded with your own: You love me too. Since then, it quickly became how you say ‘I love you’ to each other.

“Only you. I'd sooner die than love someone else,” you confidently tell her.

Her smile in return is a beautiful riddle—a riddle you can’t figure out. 

“Wanda, I—”

“Do you like living here?”

“Sometimes.” The words slip out before you can think, and you're relieved to realize that your feelings about Westview are honestly not all negative. “It’s a nice town. Quiet and cheap.”

Wanda's face does something subtle. You can't quite read her reaction, but it's clear she has more questions when she doesn't park on your answer, instead moving on to something else. 

“Do you... do you remember how we got here?"

You blink at her. Initially, the question seems a bit absurd. But as you try to formulate a response, “Of course. We got married at…” you stall, your brain blanking on the when and where of your own wedding. “...then we moved into this house last…”

You try to pin down the date, but it slips through your mind like sand.

“Wanda?” A laugh escapes you, but there's a nervous edge to it. “Why can’t I remember any of the details?”

The last thing she says before flicking her wrist is, “Because you’re not supposed to.” But even that slips away, scrubbed clean from your memory by Wanda’s sweeping hand.

–

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I found her.”

Jimmy hurried over to the tight corner of their camp where Darcy had practically set up shop for the past few days. Since the signals were first picked up, she's taken charge of monitoring the transmissions, her main focus being to locate Agent Monica Rambeau. They've already confirmed that many of Wanda's bizarre, sitcom-style characters are, in fact, real residents of Westview, somehow trapped inside whatever anomaly Wanda seems to be in the center of.

“That’s Monica, right?” Darcy points at the grainy image on the retro television set they've been using to watch the town's activities. The broadcasts come through at odd hours, which makes every second of surveillance crucial. 

Jimmy leans in closer, squinting at the screen where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Monica appears. “It sure looks like her,” he confirms.

The woman onscreen is dressed in distinctly 70s fashion—a bold, patterned blouse with wide lapels tucked into high-waisted bell-bottoms. Her hair is styled in voluminous, bouncy curls that softly frame her face, completing the look that is so far removed from the S.W.O.R.D. uniform Jimmy last saw her in.

“I wonder what character she’s playing in the show…” Darcy muses.

A handful of nearby crew quietly look on as Monica steps out of a Hornet, a stack of papers clutched in her hand, and strides confidently toward one of those cookie-cutter houses lining the street—yours and Wanda's.

“Stay frosty, Monica,” Darcy mutters under her breath, staring unblinkingly at the screen as they watch her knock gently on the door.

It’s Wanda who greets her with a guarded smile. “Hello, can I help you?” she asks, sizing up the stranger on her doorstep.

“Hi, there. I’m Geraldine. You must be Wanda,” Monica says. Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look, both arriving at the same conclusion: whatever spell has ensnared the other residents, Monica appears to be under it too.

“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, her teeth gritted in what she hopes passes for a smile. But Wanda, she’s got a tell. It’s never hard to see when she’s faking it. The sitcom laugh track of this Westview tries to spin it as humor, but it’s clear to anyone—she’s not thrilled about Geraldine’s arrival at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, has Y/N not mentioned who I am?” Geraldine asks mildly,  like she’s bringing up some small, casual detail—which, for Wanda, it isn’t.

“Honey, who's at the door?” Your voice drifts from the living room just before you step into view, crunching on an apple. When you spot the visitor, your face lights up with recognition, puzzling Wanda even more.

“Evening, ma'am,” Geraldine nods at you with a polite smile.

Wanda keeps darting glances between you and Geraldine, trying to piece together what's going on. And what’s frustrating her is you don’t seem privy at all to her disconcertment.

“I told you to just call me Y/N,” you admonish with a light grin. “What brings you here?”

“W-Who is she?” Wanda jumps in, keeping up her charade of a pleasant surprise.

“It’s Geraldine,” you tell Wanda, expecting her to recognize the name. Her blank, slightly annoyed expression forces you to jog your memory and that’s when it hits you that your wife has no idea what you’re talking about. “She’s my new assistant. Didn’t I tell you?” you say sheepishly.

“No, honey, you certainly did not,” Wanda replies, her smile stretched a bit too tight. She turns to Geraldine. “Aren’t offices usually closed by five?”

“They sure are, Wanda,” Geraldine replies cheerfully. It bothers Wanda how Geraldine uses ‘ma’am’ for you but casually drops her first name like they're old friends.

“So, why are you here?” Wanda asks, no longer bothering to hide her irritation.

“Oh, just dropping off some reports that Y/N needed to review tonight. Urgent stuff, you know?” Geraldine holds up the stack of papers in her hand as proof.

“Yikes,” Darcy winces at the tension practically leaking through the screen, feeling that deep cringe of secondhand embarrassment for Monica's obliviousness to Wanda's ire.

Fortunately for your assistant, you position yourself between her and Wanda, intercepting just as your wife’s temper begins to flare. You remember Wanda’s warm, almost syrupy kindness with Agnes when she first appeared, which only makes her sudden cold front toward Geraldine unreasonable.

“I completely forgot about those reports. Thanks for bringing them over, Geraldine,” you say, nudging her toward the exit. “See you Monday!”

Then, you close the door before she can add anything else, sparing both women from each other.

“So, why haven't you mentioned Geraldine before?” Wanda asks, not sparing another second to grill you about your new assistant.

You frown, thinking back. “I thought I did.”

Wanda looks at you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?” she demands, her eyes searching yours.

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Darcy sing-songs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Jimmy reaches over, trying to sneak a handful, but she swats him away.

You give her a lopsided smile, doing your best to charm your way out of the situation. The compulsive honesty from earlier isn't nagging at you anymore, but really, there's no need to sugarcoat anything in this case.

“Sounds like someone's a little jealous,” you tease lightly. And there it is again—that distant chorus of an audience, laughing on cue. You really need to talk to Wanda about this; it could be linked to all the experiments she's been doing with her powers.

Wanda barks out a forced laugh right into your smirking face. “Jealous? Me? There's no way I'm jealous of anyone, especially not Geraldine.”

“Then why did you look like you wanted to throw her out yourself when she showed up?”

Wanda's smile fades a tad, then she just shrugs. “Because she was interrupting our family dinner time. That's all.”

Normally, you'd draw this out until she admits she's jealous, but that could take all night. Right now, all you want is to kiss your beautiful wife, the only one you see. It's getting late, and not being able to touch her all day is driving you a little mad with want.

“Fine, you're not jealous,” you whisper, moving in, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Why would you be? You’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing woman anyone could ask for.”

Wanda melts into you almost instantly. “You love me.”

“You love me too,” you say before leaning in to peck her lips. She hums happily against your lips, but just then, you hear the boys complaining about being hungry. Sharing a smile, you both head back to sort out dinner.

The episode ends, credits roll, and Darcy groans, tossing her head back. “No way. I need more of this,” she huffs, stabbing her finger at the screen. “They're perfect together. Shame Y/N’s supposedly dead. I hate spoilers.”

“She doesn’t look dead to me from here,” Jimmy says.

“My theory? That’s not actually her. I bet Wanda or someone did something to make a rando look like Y/N.”

“You think?”

Darcy nods. “With all the surreal stuff happening here? Yeah, I'd put money on it, dude.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jimmy concedes. “Anyway, it’s a relief to see Agent Rambeau’s alive and kicking.”

“As Geraldine,” Darcy reminds him. “I wonder who chooses their names for them. Back to Y/N, what did that Howard guy have to say about Y/N being dead but so alive in Westview?”

“It’s Hayward,” Jimmy corrects her with a sigh. “He doesn’t seem interested in her or anyone else trapped inside. He’s more interested in the energy field surrounding the town.”

“And their boys?” Darcy adds, not listening to Jimmy’s rant. “We don’t have any public record of their true identities in Westview, right?”

Jimmy gives her a sidelong glance. “No records, no data. As far as Westview’s concerned, they just… appeared.”

“Typical,” she mutters, jotting down notes without looking away from the TV's static, hoping there’s a bonus episode or something.

But the screen stays blank, nothing but static for hours on end.

–

After hours of making love, Wanda lies next to you, watching you sleep. She’s used her powers on you before, but never here, never without your consent since you became a couple. Casting the hex was the easy part, the lying to you—not so much. Acting like she didn't know what was troubling you had hurt her more than she let on. 

She wanted to check if you were still happy here, still content, or if doubts were starting to creep in. And knowing you—the real you—you'd probably lie to Wanda just to keep her happy, just to ensure she has everything she wants. You've always prioritized her needs over your own, always stepping aside to let her shine. She wants the same for you, but you always manage to outdo her in every act of self-sacrifice.

When you started asking her about the exact dates of the wedding you thought you two actually had, it confirmed you still had no idea why you’re here, or what she’s done. She was relieved, honestly, because it meant she could stop forcing you to tell the truth, a spell she’d put on you out of desperation more than distrust.

She isn't sure how long this will last, just that it might be the most happiness she'll ever know, even if it's a delicate, fleeting kind. How did she even do this? Wanda doesn’t even know. It just happened—like a rose that has sprouted off a barren land. And now, despite having everything she's ever wanted, there’s always this nagging fear that it could all fall apart.

Quietly, she makes a promise to herself to fix things. She promises to you and her boys, she’ll find a way to make this life real, something that won’t just vanish like everything else she’s ever loved.