#I live for this kind of fluffy drama | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Note

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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missblissy · 2 months

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So I saw that your inbox is open for hazbin requests

Could you do a Vox x Hellborn!Reader, like a succubus or something, so they can travel to the other rings but since hes a sinner he can't and say the reader is planning to attend a party in a different ring and just overall some fluffy clingy vox trying to convince reader to stay home and stay with him instead

If not that's okay !! Have a good day <3

((Ofc nonny! I had a lot of fun with this one! I've never seen any Hellborn!readers or even hellborn!OCs X Canon which honestly this was really refreshing!! Anyways, enjoy!!))

It didn’t look right. It didn’t feel nice… nothing felt nice. You pulled the bracelets off your wrist with a sigh and plucked the matching earring out as well. Another deep sigh, a huff, just hot air puffing from your chest in defeat. In the mirror you looked yourself over again, you couldn’t find anything to wear to the party your friends were having in the lust ring. As a hellborn you could move freely between all of hell, but you willingly choose to live in the pride ring.

Turning slightly you looked at your side profile, then your backside… “Ugh,” You groaned. Normally you’d be thrilled at the chance to travel to the Lust Ring. You kind of where… But you weren’t exactly keen on running into the recent drama your friends have been having.

While taking in your reflection you could see a spark in the corner of the mirror. Then a few more as they zigzagged to the floor. If lightning could produce people, Vox would always be at the source. He appeared behind you, a smile on his face and a clever yet sneaky twinkling shimmering in his eyes.

Hands slithered and snaked along your hips, stopping to rest on your waist. A soft buzz and hum of electricity crawled along your skin and into your ears as he spoke, “What’s with the long face, little star?” The pet name never ceased to fluster a blush on your cheeks, “Another fight with the friends?” That amused look on his face said he already knew the answers to his question.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of many spy cams peeking out from the dark. He was always watching, and Vox was waiting until he saw that little smidge of doubt or frustration for him to come and make his move, “You know you can always stay the night here~” He cooed while swaying you just that little bit closer to him.

You had to fight back a giggle or riggle from his grasp. His needy tendencies were honestly rather cute. Vox was confined to the Pride Ring, so he could never follow you lower into hell, and nor could he protect you, or even spy on you. His powers stopped with pride.

Which explained why he’d always glow and bicker and pull at the idea of you staying home, here. Safe. Where he can keep an eye on you. Where you wouldn’t be harmed.

Being a Hellborn, sure, you could hold your own. But you were far more at risk of permanently dying than Vox was. And that scared the living shit out of him. You could easily perish by a bullet from a regular old gun or a stab of a knife. Meanwhile, if such conventional means happened to Vox he’d just suffer through the pain until he healed or repaired the damage to his body.

Vox tugged at your side a little more, a hum in his voice as he continued to lay on the affectionation. One, two, maybe three minutes passed before you let out such a heavy sigh you fell back into Vox’s chest for support, “I really wanted to go to this party, though,” You turned your gaze just enough to meet his, “Verosika Mayday is supposed to be making an appearance, I really love her concerts,” You whined.

At the same time did you really want to spend all the time and money getting down a few rings just for a petty fight between your friends to ruin it all? You could take it or leave it at this point. And Vox with whatever sixth sense he had smelled the doubt and your unsureness.

Normally, that being 9 times out of 10, there was no way Vox was going to talk you out of anything. Perhaps that’s something he really loved about you, that you were just as stubborn and headstrong as him. And you wouldn’t let anyone, including Vox, stop you from doing or getting what you wanted.

But here he could already tell you were second guessing on even going to some stupid party you’d probably go to again next week. To be fair, he was getting a little sick and tired of you leaving every weekend and going places he couldn’t reach.

The charm was ramped up to the max. You were suddenly spun around, a gasp of surprise jumping from your chest. You came face to face with Vox, a low blue glow from off his screen. Then a sweet, nostalgic song started playing, the source simply being Vox himself.

“Who needs to see some singing bitch when you have one right here?” His tune was out of it and his hum was giggling but still, he began dancing you around, you in his arms and his hands holding tight, “I’ll take you to the moon~” The smile on his face only got bigger, and he drew you in close and tried to steal a kiss, “Get you higher than a balloon~”

Twisted little notes, electric melodies, Spanish guitars, and suave singing were this man's go-to. He controlled everything in this tower, and the lights dimmed and changed colors. Vox made his own little world for the two of you, hidden behind all the showmanship and effects, you could easily mistake yourself suddenly on a sandy pink beach.

“I can take you anywhere, my star, and we don’t even need to leave the penthouse,” Your heart started doing those silly flips and flops, battering around in your chest. You ate every bit of attention up. When Vox spoiled you like this, when he wanted something, good gods you could watch him all night.

That didn’t mean you didn’t try your best to put up a fight, teasingly you whined out and dipped yourself backward only for Vox to catch you, one hand in the small of your back while the other caught your leg, “But how else am I going to get my fix of fun?” You dramatically called out, sarcasm laced in your words.

“I’m the definition of fun, sweet cheeks,” He pulled you back to him, chest to chest, locked in a tango. Every step you took backwards he took a stronger one forward, legs getting tangled but never once did either of you trip. This playful dance was nothing new to you, so each step was gracefully placed.

You faked a yawn, fanning your hand, and tried to look bored despite the growing grin and flare of passion and fire in your eyes. You tease Vox a little more, falsely attempting to flee from him.

Only for Vox to snatch you closer with a grip twice as tight as before. A second of pleading flashed across his face only to be replaced by a sharp smirk. Where his hands made contact with you, sparks of snapping bolts shocked you lightly. Vox laughed out as you jumped in his arms, poured, and gave a mini glare, “You know you like it when I bite,” Vox’s face got closer to yours, the cheeky grin of his eating you away from the inside out.

“Hmph!” Another shock traveled from him to you, causing a gasp of air while his voice drew closer to your ear. It was barely above a whisper… a beg…. A plea. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck while the vibrations of his vocals greeted you.

“Please,” His voice was low. The two of you had stopped moving. And he clung onto you in a more desperate attempt… his walls fell and his true nature came out, “Please stay home tonight,” The cling of a desperate man who didn’t want to let you out of his sight, was enough to melt your heart, “I don’t want to be unable to see you,” Vox said, you understood what he meant even though he still added, “Or to protect you,”

With little effort and carefully, you pulled away just enough to get a good look at those sad puppy dog eyes of his. Your smile was half there, and half in a bantering smirk. You gave him that kiss he tried so hard to get earlier, a soft one. But long enough to hold you there stuck on his lips. When the two you broke, your smile was full there though your voice still was laced with teases, “Fine,” You said, “But I want to watch a movie,”

There were a few seconds of buffering while Vox took in your answer. A large grin took up his whole face as he let out a laugh and spun you around on the spot, “Thank you!” You didn’t normally hear those words coming from Vox, so it had a nice ring to hear him say it.

He set you down, planting kisses all over your face but not letting you out of his grasp just yet, “Go down stairs and pick something to watch,” He hummed with joy, “I’ll order us something to eat,” He added, still giving a plethora of kisses between words. You giggled and laughed and bubbled out chirps of joy as he spoiled you with affection. He was utterly perfect, and too lovely for you by every degree. You nodded your head and made sure to run off as fast as you could because now you didn’t want to spend another second away from him.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #asks #inbox #anon #nonny #vox #vox x reader #reader x vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #reader inserts #vox hazbin #hellborn!reader

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discount-shades · 1 year

Text

Contract Spouse Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Letter

A/N: Not so much this chapter but this fic is going to get dark at times, it's not going to be as fluffy like Sleepy Baby.

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: Angst,

Length: 2000ish

Summary: Jake tells the Dagger Squad about Pip.

Previous Masterlist Next

You roll your shoulders and send off the final few texts and emails of the day, checking the time you sign off at 5:00PM. Being a virtual assistant had its perks. You got to wear yoga pants all day and there was no commute, but the biggest perk was the fact you were able to work two jobs.

One was a fairly involved executive assistant position at a growing company that took up most of your time. The other was as a glorified Google Calendar, keeping your extremely ADHD boss from missing deadlines, meetings, and anything else important.

The downside was a large L-shaped desk with three monitors set up in your bedroom. You had a business degree but when the opportunity evolved out of your part time administrative assistant job, you had taken it. When you had found yourself with a couple hours of down time during your work day you had subtly asked around and had gotten a second job managing your other bosses emails and calendar.

You walked into the kitchen you would be sharing with Sami until the end of the month. After over five years of it being the two of you she had finally decided to move in with her boyfriend of two years. You were happy for her but unsure of your own future. Should you renew your lease? Find a smaller, cheaper, single bedroom place? Get a roommate? You didn’t know what you wanted to do and time was running out.

That was a lie, you know what you wanted to do but it was impossible. You wanted to move in with your husband, drop everything and move across the country to be with him. But it’s not that kind of marriage, you tell yourself for what feels like the millionth time. It has never been.

Jake had been your teenage crush. Your best friend's handsome big brother, nothing would ever come of it. But when you needed him, he had married you, he had even called you almost daily to keep up the pretense that your marriage was real.

With every phone call you had fallen further and further in love with your husband. He was sweet, funny, caring, and supportive. You’ve never told anyone of your feelings but sometimes you think Sami suspects it.

You knew Jake went on dates and hooked up with women. You have tried going on dates, and one night stands, but could never get over the guilt. The feeling that you were cheating on Jake.

You again consider divorcing him. It would be easier. You could date and start a real relationship. You knew how this train of thought would end. You would have yourself convinced you were going to call it quits and then Jake would call and say ‘hello’ in a tone of voice that told you he was smiling and you would be sucked right back in.

He would sign the divorce papers the minute you asked but you kept torturing your heart. You knew you couldn’t keep waiting forever, knew that eventually you would have to move on but you couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

– – –

You hear keys in the lock and the door open and glance at the time, it’s 12:30 AM, “You're past curfew.” You can hear Sami chuckle as she walks in and drops two envelopes on your head.

“I get your mail for you and all I get is sass.” She flops down on the couch beside you. “Are you watching Downton Abbey again?” she groans as you just shrug.

“I want your final month here to be exactly the same as the past five years of us living together.” You grin at her rolling eyes. “You going out and having fun, and me staying in, watching a period drama.”

“Goodnight, Dork.” You can hear the fondness in her voice as she gets up and heads to bed. You look at the envelopes, one is a reminder to renew your car insurance, the other has the NCIS emblem. Frowning you open it and your jaw drops as you read the letter inside. It has come to our attention… marriage under contract… opening an investigation….

“Shit.”

You scramble and grab your phone, quickly calling Jake, when he doesn't answer you try him again. You are taken aback by a woman's voice answering and feel a twinge of jealousy and guilt. You had always told yourself that you would never negatively impact Jake's life while married to him and you hope you didn’t ruin something by calling him like this.

After rambling at the woman on the phone you hang up and stare at your reflection on the black screen. You are so lost in thought that you jump when Jake's face pops up with an incoming call.

“Pip? What's wrong? Are you hurt?” His sounds worried and, despite this, you immediately relax at the sound of his voice.

“I’m ok, I’m sorry!” You are talking in a rush. “I didn't mean to ruin your date.”

“I’m not on a date.” You sag in relief at his response. Happy you didn’t ruin his date or happy he is not on a date, you’re not sure.

“I got a letter,” You stare at the paper in your hand. “Jake, someone reported our marriage.”

“Shit.”

“That's what I said.” You reread bits of the letter to him, giving Jake a moment to process. “It says they are going to be interviewing people who know us,” you pause, ”Jake, I haven't told anyone about us.” Running your hand through your hair, you bite your lip in nerves. “I don’t have a lot of friends or share personal details.”

“I’ll tell the squad.” You can hear it in his voice when he shifts into protector mode. “Rooster owes me his life so he’ll lie for us.” His voice is tense when he says that, bitter in the way he always gets when he talks about the things he never speaks of. “And don't forget the fake marriage plans. No one can say we don’t have a relationship.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’ll scan the letter and email it to you.”

“Thanks, I’m going to head home. I’ll call you when I get there.” You agree and go to hang up but Jake stops you. “It’s going to be alright, you planned for this.” You agree softly. “I love you, Pip. We got this.”

“I love you too,” your reply is quiet and automatic as you hang up the phone, rising to go scan the letter. Jake always said he loved you. It had started as a cover when the two of you were together at a military event, that as his wife, you couldn’t avoid. He had urged you to do the same jokingly.

“I love you, Pip.” His cheeky grin melted and hardened your heart. “Now tell me you love me too, and make sure I believe it.”

After years of saying it you were sure he meant it, in his own way, Just not in the same way you meant it every time the words crossed your lips.

– – –

Jake rubs his head as he stares at his teammates, he had been up late last night talking to Pip. He had asked them to meet him in the parking lot after training where they could not be overheard. “I need to tell you guys something that if anyone asks you’ve always known.”

The faces around him show a variety of emotions. Coyote is resigned, but then again, he already knows. Rooster and Fanboy look giddy with excitement, like little kids about to be told a secret. Phoenix’s eyes are narrowed in suspicion. Only Payback and Bob have mastered a look of polite interest.

“Pip, the woman on the phone, she’s my wife.”

Jake registers the feeling of his head jerking to the side a millisecond before the pain of the slap hits him and causes his left cheek to bloom red. “Jesus Christ Phoenix!” Jake raises his hand to his cheek, shock on his face. “What the fuck was that?”

Phoenix is subtly flexing her hand to shake out the pain from the slap. “You go home with a different woman every night you can!” Rage is clouding her eyes. “You’re telling me you have been cheating on some poor woman all this time?” Rooster moves forward and places himself between Jake and Phoenix.

“Ow! No!” Jake’s cheek feels hot. “It’s a fucking marriage of convenience!” He runs his tongue on the inside of his cheek, searching for the telltale metallic taste of blood, but it's not there. “She was sick and needed health care so I married her when I was still in flight school.”

“Is she better?” Trust Bob to do the decent thing and be concerned with the health of a stranger.

“You know, Phoenix, you should listen to your Wizzo more.” Jake says, gingerly feeling the warmth of his cheek. “Ask questions first, instead of slapping.”

“You’ve had it coming on some level,” Phoenix says without remorse before repeating Bob's question. “Is she better Hangman?”

“She's fine, it's been over five years.”

“Why’d you stay married?” Payback asks. He’s the only other married member of the squad.

Jake shrugs, “the money, and the spousal benefits helped her.” He knows that's not the truth. At least not the whole truth but he doesn’t want to get into the hollow little feeling in his chest every time he thinks about ending the charade.

“How’d you meet?” Roster asks.

“She’s my baby sister's best friend.” Jake waits for Rooster to do the math. Rooster and Sami had crossed paths before and Jake had warned Rooster to stay away from his younger sister.

“Jesus, Hangman, was she a child bride?”

“No!” Jake rubs his face in defeat. “She was eighteen, and it's not that type of marriage, it's just a piece of paper.”

“So why are you telling us this now?” Phoenix crosses her arms and looks at Jake expectantly.

“Pip got a letter.” Jake sighs. “Someone reported our marriage as fake and now we are being investigated.”

“Shit,” Fanboy muses, “do they have a case?” Jake looks at him in exasperation. Fanboy was brilliant at his job, but some days Jake suspected all other available mental real estate was taken up with nerd trivia leaving no space for common sense.

“Yes Fanboy, they do have a case.” Jake rolls his eyes before continuing. “We talk on the phone and have a joint bank account but we’ve never lived together, most of it can be explained away through health, deployments, and her university.”

“So what do you need us to do?” Payback asks.

“Just pretend you have always known I was married.” Jake looks around at everyone nodding. “Pip hasn’t told anyone so you will have to prove that it wasn’t a secret. Coyote was a witness so he has legal proof of knowing.”

“Don’t worry man.” Rooster claps him on the shoulder. “We've got your back.”

“Thank you.” Jake says sincerely. “I’m diving to Austin at the end of the month. Pip’s lease with my sister is up and she’s going to move in with me to make it look real.”

Coyote nods. “That makes sense, this is the first long term posting you’ve had since she finished University.”

“Sooo, yeah,” Jake spreads his arms out helplessly. “In conclusion, I’ve been married to Pip for six years and you have always known. Any questions?”

“Why do you call her Pip?” Fanboy asks, “What's her real name?”

Jake tells them your name. “She always looked so short next to my sister so I called her Pipsqueak. Pip for short.”

After a few more questions everyone walks to their cars and leaves. Phoenix hangs back until it is just her and Jake. “You did the right thing marrying her.” She motions to the red that has not faded from his cheek. “I feel a little bad that I hit you so hard.”

“You could have not hit me at all.”

“Don’t push your luck Hangman.” She walks to her car before turning around. “Rooster’s right though, we’ve got your back.”

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #hangman topgun #jake seresin

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hamsterclaw · 7 months

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Fic Library: Yoongi (Pt 2)

My ult bias, it makes sense that there were too many to fit into one list. All of these authors capture the essence of my favourite tsundere king, check these stories out and show them some love. Part 1 here.

A Steamy Conversation by @madbutgloriouspond. Yoongi x f! reader. You walk in on a half-naked, dripping wet, tangerine haired Yoongi, he's mean and cocky and the inevitable happens. Smutty perfection from Memes.

Clockwork Heart by @vyduan. Yoongi x reader. The chaebol tsundere Yoongi that I'll never stop screaming about. A brilliant, capable reader, a hot Yoongi who does secret acts of kindness, and beautifully rendered side characters including wise and witty BFF Seokjin.

Knee-high by @jjungkookislife. Yoongi x reader in an established relationship. A sexy, skirt wearing, orange haired, watermelon chapstick using Yoongi with a lip piercing in a smutty, enjoyable read.

I'm not even gonna say it by @taetaespeaches. Yoongi x reader. An incredibly cute, fluffy read, where Yoongi stops for lemonade on a swelteringly hot day.

Fireworks by @starlostjimin. Yoongi x f! reader in an established relationship. A soft, fluffy, spicy story with the domestic Yoongi of my dreams.

Too hot to sleep by @gamerguk. Fiance Yoongi x reader - a short, smutty read with a hilarious cameo from Hobi at the end.

The Sweetest Thing by @illneverrecover. A super cute sweet treat featuring a grumpy florist Yoongi and a baker reader.

Kinkmas Day Four drabble by @monimonimoon. A deliciously hot, petty co-worker Yoongi at the office Christmas party.

On the nature of living by @sugalaritae. Griddle's an incredible writer, and this very beautiful story starts off with Yoongi x a ghost reader and resonates so much with me emotionally.

Home by @junghelioseok. Secret agent AU with Yoongi x reader. Short, sweet and comforting.

Set me free by @hesperantha. A time-travel tale with tragedy of epic proportions. You won't have read anything else quite like it.

The one with Yoongi, Netflix and zero chill by @eoieopda. A hilarious reader, a fluffy and cuddly Yoongi and softness and feelings all round.

Yoongi is a rock by @yoongsisbae. A beautifully written story that made me think about mortality and constancy and has the singularly beautiful line ‘And when Yoongi cracked he thought of you’. It gives me chills remembering it. Stunning.

The one with Yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas by @eoieopda. I knew I was in for angst when I started reading but I didn't bank on the beautifully realised longing and characters I wanted to cry for. I adore this.

Best served cold by @anotherbtswriter. Yoongi and afab reader in a mafia AU with drama, tsundere Yoongi energy and a duplicitous family. Riveting.

Bao by @whatifyoulivelikethat. Delivery boy Yoongi x chef reader. One of the first Yoongi stories I read, and have re-read so many times since then. This Yoongi's so perfectly characterised, and there's a cameo from a sexy model Taehyung too.

Dominance and Domesticity by @theharrowing. A Yoongi who doms you in the bedroom and also does ironing? Where do I sign up? Sexy perfection.

Cybersex by @gimmethatagustd. Yoongi x f! reader. Reader is a phone sex hotline operator in this brother's best friend AU. Featuring a hot, confident, capable Yoongi who nearly set my screen on fire.

Shameless by @vyduan. Idolverse AU with Yoongi and reader. A stunning story, part of the Her multiverse series, with complex, layered characters that are so beautifully human. One of the first stories I read when I started reading BTS fanfic, and one I won't forget.

#fic rec: yoongi #fic rec list #yoongi fics

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slightly-smarter-nat · 2 years

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If your requests are still open, could you write one where Natasha got really drunk at one of Tony’s famous parties at the compound, and when R helps the Russian to her room. Natasha would ask R to stay tonight, which she does, and Nat reveals she has feelings for R? And then R is caught off guard and because of the alcohol in Natasha’s system, her walls are down and she’s emotionally vulnerable and disheartened because she thinks R doesn’t love her back? But R reveals she in love with her too and hopes she remembers in the morning. And Nat does and it’s a very fluffy ending. Please and thank you! I live your fics!!

Drunk On Love || Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst- ends in fluff; mentions of alcohol consumption; explicit language; intoxicated characters; mentions of painkillers. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 9027 words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request anon, I apologise it’s so late. I kind of went off topic with the request, so to the anon that requested this fic, if you would like me to re-write it more specifically to the request, I’ll happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

*Italics/boldness indicate dialogue from the show the Reader and Natasha are watching.

‘Anna please, I-it’s not what it looks like! Me and Martha are-‘

‘What Daniel? Good friends? Platonic or romantic? God, you can’t even make your own mind up until you’re both under each other doing god knows what.’

‘Hey, that’s not fair. You know I loved you, yet you threw me to the curb like I was a piece of trash-‘

“You know what is trash, this show.” You remark towards Natasha as the two of you mindlessly watch TV after promising yourselves to have a relaxing, once in a lifetime day off from being world saving heroes.

Natasha glares towards the screen, concentrating on the drama unfolding in front of the two of you- and attempting to keep up with the current storyline of the show, “You’re the one who put it on, and besides it’s rather entertaining when you figure out what the hell they’re talking about.”

You laugh at her words as you shuffle further into the cushioned couch; throwing your feet up on the coffee table in front of you to replicate the optimum comfort position of complete and total relaxation, “In my defence, there was nothing else on and- wait Martha is walking towards the kitchen where Daniel and Anna are arguing!”

Natasha instantly grabs an Ash shaded pillow from beside herself to hug in support and in anticipation of the drama that is about to commence, “Oh god, this can’t be happening.”

Part of you notices the rare and yet delicate occurrence of Natasha being completely relaxed enough to let out this side of her. A side you often see and cherish; knowing your best friend trusts you enough to see what she’d consider and definitely deny to be her ‘soft side’.

However, escaping from your thoughts, you subconsciously drop your feet back to the carpeted floor as you lean forward towards the TV, losing yourself in the chaotic scenes on the scripted, yet somewhat addictive new reality show playing out.

‘Please, just hear me out-‘

Daniel’s plea is silenced with a deafening strike across his face-delivered by a vengeful hand belonging to Anna.

Having lost yourselves in the show, Natasha and yourself release a gasp in unison; not expecting the rather hysterical character to deliver such a harsh statement through her actions, opposed to her words.

As you study each pixel conforming on the screen in front of you with a newfound interest, you unfortunately start to pick at the skin encasing your nails- a nervous and unbreakable habit you have yet to overcome.

Natasha’s ears pick up on the telltale signs of your destructive actions, knowing the unique clicking sound resounds when you’re in deep concentration or in deep trepidation in concern with something.

“Y/n/n, you’re doing it again.” Natasha gently scolds your habit, causing you to snap out of your TV induced trance and notice your now red and broken skin. You silently curse yourself as the irksome stinging sensation makes itself known on your now raw skin.

Natasha shakes her head as she guides her gaze back to the TV screen, “I thought you were using that nail polish I gave you to stop you from dissecting your nail beds?” You groan at Natasha’s question, knowing she’ll refuse to drop the topic now that she is aware of its occurrence once again.

Harvesting a deep breath, you center your tone before answering the red head, knowing she’s only trying to support you, “I did… but I ended up picking it all off during Steve’s latest briefing on our upcoming mission schedule.”

Natasha smirks at the irony of your conflicting actions with the mechanism designed to refrain you from messing with your nails entirely, “Okay, I’ll cross that one off the list as a failure. What about using bandages across your nails?” Natasha moves through her mental list of ways to help you kick your unwanted anxious habit, knowing it’s becoming an insecurity of yours.

In sync with Natasha, the two of you raise your feet from the ground and bury them underneath your bodies as you move to address each other further, “I tried that one already, they just irritate me throughout the day. Plus Parker thought it was double-sided tape and had the audacity to think I was replicating his ‘sticky fingers’ situation.”

Natasha lets out a low chuckle at your statement, though not hesitating to guide her amused gaze towards your stern one.

However, only a few seconds pass before the two of you break out into laughter; never having a dull moment between the both of you.

“Well, I know one technique we haven’t tried if you’re up for it y/n?” Natasha says evenly, keeping her gaze locked on yours.

You can’t help but fidget under her gaze, long forgetting the show on the TV, but happily becoming lost within Natasha’s ethereal sea of green irises, “W-what is it?” You practically whisper, studying her face intently as you await her suggestion.

Natasha silently reaches for one of your hands, delicately brushing over your skin as she encases her hand with yours in a supportive manner.

You watch her actions in surprise, sure you’ve held hands with her before, but this time you’re convinced that the initial touch of her skin on yours was electric.

Natasha gently pulls the hand taken towards herself to place on the cushion obtained earlier, “This way, if you try to do it again, you’ll have to go through me in order to do it.” Natasha says with a tilt of her head, attempting to ignore but most likely enjoying the heated blush working its way up your neck and across your cheeks from her actions.

You attempt to stagger out a response, knowing your feelings for Natasha are ever increasing, yet part of you wants to deny them in fear that she doesn’t return your affections- in turn the current situation is proving that task difficult. Natasha isn’t exactly the most open book of all, deciphering her feelings towards others is a challenge in itself.

Having words fail you, you allow yourself to bow your head slightly and escape her curious gaze. What she’d do to have a moment to hear your thoughts on her outgoing movement- little did you know, her heart is near enough hammering out of her chest, fearful that you’d reject her motion of love in the most subtle way she can ponder without giving you an opportunity to outright decline her care.

“Y/n-“ Natasha finds it within herself to push you for an answer to silence her tormenting thoughts. That is until she hears the bellowing voices of Yelena and Kate travelling down the hallway and into the living area where the two of you are currently occupying.

Your gaze snaps towards the former Widow and Archer, loosening your hand away from Natasha’s in fear of creating a tense, yet ecstatic questioning session from Yelena at the contact-knowing Yelena is desperate to see you and Natasha become a couple. You’d hate to create a false sense of hope, not only for Yelena, but for yourself too.

Though, Yelena has never shied away from creating ‘coincidental’ circumstances of you and Natasha being paired up for every training session; team task and missions. That cannot work wonders between the fears surrounding rejection surging through Natasha and yourself; but it has made you somewhat closer.

As you turn yourself on the spot to give the two women your undivided attention; you fail to see the flash of hurt run across Natasha’s features at your effort to distance yourself from her in the presence of her Red Room Sister and Kate. Her hands now feel cold from the loss of your warmth that she so desperately craves.

Kate takes quickened steps to reach the back of the couch before Yelena, who wanders over with her hands nestled in a pair of the many pockets decorating her impressive and rather practical hunter green vest.

“Hey guys, what are you two up to?” Kate asks curiously as she goes to lean across the back of the cushioned couch to spy what plays on the screen central to the room.

You smirk as you go to reply to the Archer, “Oh we’re just watching some lame show-“ Before you have a moment to finish your explanation, Kate eagerly and enthusiastically interrupts your words.

“No way! You’re watching ‘Heartbreak in New Asgard?! I love this show!” Kate exclaims as she attempts a graceful clamber over the backing of the couch to lumber herself in between you and Natasha.

You groan in discomfort as she uses a tightened grip on your head to assist herself over- allowing Yelena’s disturbed gaze to land on her disheartened sister, “Sestra, are you okay?”

The saddened features tainting Natasha’s face snap back into that of a stoic nature, displaying an unreadable resting face for the Widow, shielding herself from further pain of sympathetic questioning she’d rather escape, “I’m fine, why are the two of you here?”

Natasha quickly dismisses Yelena’s concern, sending a pang of turmoil through the blonde assassin with her miserly tone. However cryptic Natasha may be, Yelena never fails to notice a shift in Natasha’s demeanour; though she also knows never to push Natasha to open up, she’ll come to her when she’s ready- she hopes.

Yelena clears her throat as she eagerly moves her gaze away from Natasha, “Kate Bishop and myself are planning on working on some well needed combat training. Isn’t that right, Kate Bishop?” Yelena teasingly directs towards her newly acquired friend, knowing Kate’s impressive and enhanced Martial Arts are in no way of a comparison to Yelena’s extensive Red Room training-yet.

Kate moves to rest her elbows on her knees, leaning forwards in fondness of the show commencing, “Huh? Yeah, yeah sure whatever you say Yelena. Sounds awesome.” Kate mumbles out in response, not caring to take in the conversation playing out between the Widows, but directing her entire attention on her favourite guilty pleasure.

You wave a hand in front of Kate’s face, laughing at the way her vacant expression signals out your action to follow along the show, “I think we’ve lost her.” You announce, causing Yelena to groan.

“Ugh, you are impossible Kate Bishop.” Yelena lets out, knowing a mass effort will now be required to remove Kate from her current area of fixation.

“Anyway, we wondered if the two of you wanted to join us. You can see how well I kick Kate Bishop’s ass. My current record is under two minutes.” Yelena proudly announces to Natasha and yourself; secretly hoping it’s enough to entice the two of you to join the training session.

You go to respond positively to the question put forward, until you catch Natasha’s eye; part of you wonders if the furrowed gaze is begging you to reject Yelena’s offer and stay with her a bit longer. Having a sudden urge to bask in the lone company of Natasha, you conform your answer.

“Thank you Yelena, but Natasha and I are having a chill day so no training is allowed- Romanoff’s orders.” You say in a light manner, hoping to not offend the younger Widow, but assert your promise to Natasha.

Natasha releases a relieved sigh, though she adores Yelena, she knows she has a better chance of moving things forward with you if the two of you are alone.

“Sestra, maybe another time we can see your self declaration of superiority over Kate’s skillset.” Natasha addresses Yelena, hoping no offence has been caused towards her sister on her part.

Yelena can only smile in response, knowing her offer was likely to be declined in favour that the somewhat undetected, yet mutual pining between her sister and her friend would advance into something more.

“I’ll hold you to that Sestra.” Yelena moves to bring Natasha into a heartfelt hug; striking the opportunity to whisper supportive words into her Sister’s ear in the hopes that she will lift her dismal mood.

The words remain unintelligible to you, until your attention is peaked from Yelena blowing a wave of nuisance air into Natasha’s ear; causing the redhead to shove the blonde away with an amused mumble of ‘grow up’.

Yelena chuckles in giddiness, never passing the opportunity to tease her Sister in the most troublesome way she can muster to think of, “Okay Sestra, okay we’ll get going and leave you to whatever this is-“ Yelena waves a finger between Natasha and yourself, earning an eye roll from her Sister; “Come on Kate Bishop.” Yelena attempts to remove herself and Kate from the situation.

Kate waves Yelena’s words away with a dismissive hand, “Shhh, it’s getting to the good part. They’re about to make up.” Kate lets out with her enrapt gaze remaining upon the TV.

Yelena releases an unamused sigh as she goes to lift the Archer up by the purple collar of her combat gear; causing Kate to follow the forceful tugs from the couch she wishes to remain on.

Kate releases several protests of annoyance at Yelena’s incessant tugs; grasping the message that it was in fact time to leave.

You and Natasha shake your heads at Yelena’s antics, she never fails to amuse the two of you.

Just as the two women move to leave the room and bid you a goodbye, Tony Stark decides to grace the room with his presence.

Yelena moves to nudge Kate, stifling a laugh enough to let her words out, “Oh, look Kate Bishop, it is the grown man that I made cry the other day. How exciting.” Yelena teases, never one to shy away from putting Tony in his place from his vulgar words.

Tony firmly shoves his hands into the compact pockets placed on his custom made jacket, giving his throat a clear in the process, “Belova, a pleasure as always.” He sarcastically remarks as he moves towards the couch; ignoring the shared amusement being vocalised by Kate and Yelena on the way to their destination.

Tony removes one of his hands to bring it towards your head, ruffling your hair into an unwanted mess as he goes to address you, “How’s my favourite Avenger doing on this fine day?” Usually when he directs such a title to yourself it’s because he wants something from you- you dread to think what it could be this time.

You groan in irritation as you slide away from his vexing movements, “I was okay until you showed up Tony.” You grumble as you try to style your hair down from its now hectic state, courtesy of Tony Stark himself.

Tony smirks in response, loving the practical sibling rivalry the two of you unknowingly created from your friendship.

As Tony is an intelligent man, he knows not to replicate his actions of greeting with Natasha, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to display an unfriendly manner to his pestering ways.

He nods his head in Natasha’s direction in greeting, “Widow.”

Natasha folds her arms with a gentle sigh in response, “Stark.” She simply lets out, loving the way she can intimidate Tony with just her presence alone.

You stare at Natasha in wonderment, “Okay, you’ve got to teach me how you do that.” You say in reference to the successful taming of Tony that Natasha can so easily manage.

Natasha smirks in pride, grasping onto that small essence of rendering you stunned. That is until Tony invades the conversation.

“You love it really, y/l/n. Anyway I have some very exciting news to share with you y/n.” Tony announces as he rubs his hands together in motion of hyping up his upcoming statement.

You twist your facial features slightly in curiosity, and a mixture of hesitancy, “Oh god, what have you done now?” You question in uneasiness.

Tony scoffs at your words, “What makes you think it’s something bad, in fact I am offended at your negative tone towards my ingenious idea-”

Natasha picks up the conversation from her point of view, “In all fairness Stark, as of late, your plans have ended in complete and utter chaos- no offence.”

Tony waves a dismissive hand towards Natasha, “Offence taken. Anywho, before I was rudely misjudged, I’ll tell you what I need you for. Tonight I’m throwing a totally kick-ass, ‘you have to be there’ party and you’re coming; no arguments.”

You drop your mouth in protest, “Wait, what?! No way, why?!” You practically stutter out, failing to recall even putting your name forward for this extravagant idea.

Tony rolls his eyes as though the reasoning would have become obvious to you upon revealing his request, “Okay, I may, or may not have announced that you’d be a guest of honour per se to show off our newest Avenger to some of the board members at some new, rival tech company trying to out-do my image. Regardless, your ass better be there or I’ll have J.A.R.V.I.S wake you up every morning at 2 am for two months.”

You shake your head in annoyance, “Not like I haven’t been on the team for ten months already.” You mumble alongside a dramatic shift of your body and folding of your arms for good measure.

Tony shrugs at your statement, “You win some, you lose some kid. Widow, you are of course invited, and by that I mean you have to be in attendance also.”

Natasha widens her eyes as she goes to object to Tony's offer, “No, I was serious when I told you I would not attend anymore of your ridiculous charades that you so adamantly hold for no reason. I’m not going; in fact, I have plans.” Natasha simply claims.

The ending of her statement catches your attention, causing you to snap your gaze towards Natasha in a questioning manner- she hasn’t mentioned any unknown plans throughout the entirety of the day.

Tony smirks in a mocking manner, “Let me take a wild guess and put forward that it will include something as mind-blowing as your current activity of choice. I would never have thought you’d stoop so low as to resort to watching trashy TV on a weekday Romanoff.” Tony clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times to add to his disapproval of Natasha’s refusal to go to the party scheduled.

Natasha shrinks into herself lightly, choosing to contain the thought in her head that she may or may not have been considering catching up on the series later on in her room, “…no, plus y/n put this on. I’m not interested in the slightest.” Natasha firmly rejects the idea of being engrossed with the show, avoiding suspicion.

You turn to Tony with a smile, knowing that if you’re going down in regards to Tony’s party, Natasha is going down with you, “Don’t listen to her, it’s her most favourite show in the entire worl-“ Your exaggerated statement is put to a halt once you feel a firm strike to your chest, originating from Natasha’s pillow being swung towards you in hopes of silencing your teasing.

“That’s enough out of you y/l/n.” Natasha playfully scolds, grabbing the pillow once more to place back on her lap.

Tony shakes his head as he attempts to refocus the conversation, “Romanoff, I can assure you that this party will be one to remember. For all the right reasons of course; give me one more chance to prove it to you. If I’m wrong, I’ll even watch whatever monstrosity is captivating you all so much on the screen. What do you say Widow?”

Natasha bites her lip in thought, part of her wants to join in on the fun of having the team together for some drinks and a bit of dancing. Though she also wants to have an easy night as previously planned with you.

Tony attempts his best pout, unintentionally putting Natasha off the idea more with his odd choice of convincing.

You reach over to nudge Natasha’s knee with your hand to gather her attention, allowing her gaze to fall to you, “I’ll definitely go if you go. That way we can still hang out together and control the hectic levels of fun I’m sure Stark is so desperate for us to have.” You say lightheartedly, hoping to convince Natasha to join you.

Natasha thinks on your words for a moment, deciding that a night in your company will be perfect, no matter the setting.

With that notion in her mind, she gives you and Tony a nod of approval, “Alright, I’ll be there.”

If only Natasha knew what she was getting herself into.

———-

*The Party*

You harshly throw yourself down into a sitting position on one of the many couches decorating the frenzied, yet remarkable party playing out within the Compound.

Through your heavy actions, you earn a distasteful glare from Yelena as she mumbles several curses in Russian before addressing you properly, “Watch yourself y/n, you nearly made me spill my beer; this jacket isn’t cheap you know- well so the guy told me as I stole it from him-“

You raise a surprised eyebrow at her words, earning an eye roll from the blonde, “Oh come on, I am totally kidding… well not entirely, I needed information, he wouldn’t give it to me, blah, blah you know how the story goes.”

You let out a light laugh at her words, failing to see where the story was heading, and opting for the safe option of not asking anymore questions in regards to the topic- the less you know the better, “Sorry Lena, I’m just exhausted. I’ve been here for forty minutes and already I’ve had to display fake smiles; engage in exasperating small talk and in all honesty I’ve lost count with how many strangers I’ve had to shake hands with to please Tony Stark himself. That man is a nightmare.”

Yelena smiles at your dismal tone, allowing your features to cross in confusion, “What?” You ask.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Let’s just say Stark has a surprise waiting for him in his room upon his return, courtesy of Kate Bishop and myself, that he will truly hate, and in your current predicament, I think you will love.” Yelena proudly takes a mouthful of the bitter and intoxicating beer in her grasp- revelling in the knowledge that through the shared boredom of her and Kate they can produce the most mischievous plots known to the existence of the Avengers.

You release a satisfied breath at Yelena’s cryptic words, allowing a surging happiness to course through your system that all this hassle will be worth it by the end of the night- you hope.

“See, I knew I liked you for a reason Belova.”

Yelena hums in acknowledgment, “What is not to love, I am pretty cool. Though, something tells me I am not as cool as Natasha-“

Without even moving your glance towards Yelena, you send her a warning jab with your elbow, earning a menacing chuckle from her as she goes to take another sip of her beer.

Before another word can be uttered, Wanda and Kate take a seat on the opposing couch- having collected their choice of beverage to get them through the night. You give them a nod in greeting as they direct quick ‘hello’s’ towards you; having seen Maria Hill quickly making her way towards your newly formed group.

“Hey, have any of you seen Carol? I’ve literally searched the entire Compound and I cannot find her anywhere.” Maria frustratedly lets out.

Wanda tilts her head in thought until she opens her mouth in realisation, “Oh, yes she is currently challenging Thor to an arm wrestling match. They’ll be on the third floor most likely.” Wanda reveals with a smile, hoping to ease any worry within Maria.

Maria groans in annoyance, “Of course she is, man she’s a hard one to find when you need her. Um, how do you get to the third floor again?” She asks unsure, knowing the Compound is like an endless maze thanks to Tony’s continuous modifications of the building.

You gather yourself up to stand by Maria, readying yourself to point an arm out to direct her gaze to the concealed staircase used to access the third and fourth floor.

Before you can verbally direct Maria, your eyes land on quite potentially the most magnificent sight to ever be graced upon you.

Natasha slowly makes her way into the colossal room, allowing her viridescent eyes to roam the guests dancing and mingling their way across the open space.

Her image is flawless; her wine red and signature hair perfectly reflects the multitude of colourful lights that easily roam their way throughout the room; her chosen outfit entailing a ravishing black dress that hugs her body to an impeccability that can only belong to Natasha Romanoff herself. However, the detail that traps your attention most is the cherry shaded lipstick blanketing her addictive, plump lips.

Having noticed your engrossed state, Wanda takes it upon herself to guide Maria over to Carol herself; biting her lip at the blaring thoughts your mind can conjure in appreciation for Natasha’s goddess capabilities.

The nearing of clicking heels snaps you out of your own mind, as Natasha spots you from a far and eagerly makes her way over to you.

You allow yourself to close the distance at a heightened pace, refusing to withstand another second without Natasha being near you.

Through your diverted attention, you frustratedly stumble towards Natasha; who luckily stabilises you with ease, “Oh, careful y/n. I’ve not even been here for ten seconds and you’re already falling for me.” Natasha teases with a smirk.

You quickly compose yourself and mumble a ‘thank you’ towards her before finding your voice, “You wish Romanoff.”

Unbeknownst to you, she truly hopes she has such an effect on you.

Filling the silence, a sharp pain strikes you at the back of your neck, producing a grimace from you as you notice a metal bottle cap drop to the floor, beside your foot. You turn to the direction of its supposed origin- noticing the impressed faces of Kate and Yelena at the obtaining of your attention.

“When you are quite finished drooling- I mean talking to my Sister. Would you be so kind as to fetch us some more drinks.” Yelena taps her empty bottle in emphasis of its now drink-free state.

You roll your eyes with a shake of your head at Yelena words, turning your sight back towards Natasha who is failing to stifle a laugh at Yelena’s teasing, “I swear I’m going to kick Barton’s ass for teaching Kate that bottle cap trick.” You rub your neck in a soothing motion from the strike inflicted by the Younger Archer.

Natasha hums in agreement, knowing Clint has the tendency to show certain members of the team the more rebellious tricks opposed to the ones instructed for delivery by S.H.I.E.L.D.

“So, can I get you something to drink? My treat.” You remark, knowing it’s an open bar and hoping to catch a smile from Natasha.

She doesn’t disappoint as her alluring smile forms at your offer, “Hmm, surprise me.” She responds, earning an unexpected ‘oh’ from you.

“I’ll be right back, Miss Romanoff.” You take your leave to collect the drinks requested by your closest teammates; hoping to rush back so you don’t get dragged across the room to meet another one of Tony’s guests that he insists you greet.

Natasha watches you go before finishing her journey to the area of couches you were occupying before her arrival.

As she goes to sit down in a vacant seat, she intentionally ignores Kate and Yelena, who in their less than sober state have taken it upon themselves to replicate yours and Natasha’s conversation- with some additional kissing noises and outrageous flirtation that has Natasha contemplating in the not so subtle act of bashing their heads together, in hope of knocking some maturity into them- hope being the key word.

Luckily for you, but not so lucky for Natasha, a rather giddy and lightheaded Tony makes his way over to her; having made thorough use of his own open bar.

“Widow! Natasha! There you are, I have been searching all over for you, you little minx.” The little filter that Tony had in the first place has completely shattered with each dose of alcohol that he has consumed over the party’s duration.

Tony shuffles over to the seat next to Natasha, causing her to move over quickly to avoid Tony’s lack of awareness of his surroundings to cause him to unintentionally sit on her lap.

As he snuggles his way into the seat, he nods his head towards Yelena and Kate, not caring to strike up a conversation with the two, “Now, Romanoff, part of me thought you’d be too, well your earnest self to attend my little shindig.”

Natasha decides to entertain Tony in his current state, knowing he’ll soon move on once his boredom reaches its peak, “Oh really, why is that may I ask?”

Tony sways his movements slightly to turn towards Natasha, intaking a deep breath to keep his thoughts in check, “Well, to put it quite simply Widow; you’ve lost your touch. You’re not as fun and exciting as you once were. We want the old Romanoff back-“ Tony interrupts himself with a strike of a firm hand towards his leg, directing attention to his apparent plea.

Natasha scowls at Tony, “What are you talking about? I haven’t lost my ‘touch’.” She attempts to defend herself, forgetting that Tony’s mind is not of sober thoughts.

Just as Tony goes to open his mouth once more, you arrive back to the area; passing over Yelena’s and Kate’s drink as they mindlessly take them from you, having lost themselves in their own conversation.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask cautiously, noticing the unnerving glare Natasha is directing at Tony- who seems completely unphased and unaware of the impact of his words.

“Oh, just telling Widow here how boring she is now, and how we’re all glad she could join us.” Tony rambles on, attempting to grab at the chilled beer in your hand that you gathered for Natasha.

You swiftly pull it away from him, “Tony, stop being an ass. Nat is probably, actually no, is the most entertaining member on this team. Natasha and boring don’t mix.” You effortlessly defend Natasha, knowing insecurities of her impression towards the others has come up in conversation. Yes, Natasha is a confident woman, though the inflicting damage caused by the Red Room still infiltrates her mind in cruel and vile ways in which she feels as though she has to change the person she was created to be, to be the one the team loves and supports.

Tony obnoxiously blows a surge of air through his lips in disbelief, “Please, we all know I am the most interesting member present. I mean, take this example for instance: if we got a rock, a plain, ordinary rock, I would find it highly taxing and difficult to differentiate between Romanoff and this boring rock that I somehow acquired.” Tony loses himself in his mindless babbling.

You look over towards Natasha, feeling your heart pang in turmoil at her disheartened features. All of her tormenting worries are being announced right in front of her; assisting in the miserable tears cascading down her face.

You go to reach out for Natasha before she abruptly stands up and removes herself from the scene.

The sudden action captures Yelena’s attention, filling her with concern for her sister.

“Nat? Sestra!? What is going on?” Yelena loudly questions, noticing your fuming gaze towards Tony.

Tony sleepy looks over each member present, completely unaware of the hurt caused by his stupidity in the moment, “Since Romanoff has left us in such a hurry, can I have her beer?” Tony reaches out once more for the drink furiously clutched in your hand.

You choose to slam the bottle down on the table placed in front of the couches, not caring over the alcohol now tainting the surface, “You’re lucky you’re not wearing it Stark.” You harshly direct towards Tony, opting to leave and find Natasha in hopes of consoling her.

Yelena watches the scene unfold in puzzlement, Natasha has never walked away in such a manner before, allowing her to conclude that Tony has struck a nerve with her.

Tony lazily moves forth to claim the unattended beer; ignorant to the enraged stares being directed towards him by the two younger Avengers.

——————-

You don’t know how much time has passed, but in the duration you’ve failed to locate Natasha.

With endless apologies and light shoves, you make your way through the crowded room; eyes scanning frantically in hopes that you’ll find Natasha and attempt to fix the mess created by Tony.

Frustration gets the better of you, as you rub your hands across your face to centre yourself, you’re running out of not only ideas, but places to search.

As your hand moves to cover your mouth, you spot Wanda, Maria and Carol clambering in a drunk manner up a set of stairs; releasing bouts of roaring laughter as they desperately clutch onto each other to avoid a nasty fall.

With your luck thinning out, you push your way towards them rapidly, considering the possibility they may have seen Natasha.

“Guys, have you seen Nat?” You breathlessly ask, feeling the effects of not only the exertion to travel throughout the compound as quickly as your legs can take you, but the rising heat of the hectic room.

Carol pouts in thought, “Urm, Nat? Which one is that again?” She asks Wanda and Maria, who find her fake confusion comedic.

“Carol-“

“Oh, the one with the shield huh? Or is it the bow and arrow set? I can’t quite remember-” Maria dazedly asks you, struggling to maintain focus on your features as she sways towards Wanda for stability.

“Can you all stop acting like complete and total jackasses and answer my question?!” The raise in your voice snaps a partial moment of sobriety into them.

A flash of red passes through Wanda’s irises as she attempts to assist you with her mystic abilities, “She’s at the minibar, you know the one where Thor stores the Asgardian liquor?”

Your eyes light up at Wanda’s answer, finally being one step closer to finding Natasha, “Wanda, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much!” You shout as you jog towards the specified location.

You make it across to the minibar in record time, refusing to waste one more second. As you release that final push through the remaining guests that stand in your way, that’s when you find yourself witnessing the rather destructive behaviour Natasha is displaying.

She readies herself another shot of what can be presumed to be one of Thor’s many alcoholic delights that decorate this area of the room.

With one quick swirl of the liquid filling her miniature glass, she releases a breath and quickly downs the shot in one; barely flinching at the burning sensation making its way down her throat.

As you near Natasha further, the drunken features that have progressed are obvious: her usually impeccable posture is slouched across the bar as she desperately raids the supply available to her; her eyes are glazed with a depressive shine- a battle between the red strain of her tears against her vivid green eyes highlights her sorrow further.

Just as Natasha goes to pour herself another drink, you place your hand slowly across the opening of the glass; preventing her from serving another round of regret and earning a scoff from a displeased Natasha.

“Move your hand, I won’t ask again.” Natasha grumbles, her voice carrying a huskiness to it that is most likely from the continued burn of each drink she has ingested.

You use your hand to slide the glass away from her and across the bar, “Natasha, maybe you should slow down. I know you’re upset, but Tony had no right to-“

Natasha staggers back more forcefully than the two of you would have expected, causing you to reach out to keep her in balance, “God y/n, I’m fine. I’m doing what I’m supposed to at parties, getting wasted and having fun. Since, I-I apparently don’t know what that is-“ Natasha rambles on her drunken words, quickly dismissing your concern.

You sigh at her state, hating the fact that she truly believes drinking her problems away will bury them- though they always find a way to re-surface, usually in the morning with a hangover on the side.

“Nat-“

Natasha shakes her head to silence you, “No, I didn’t ask for your help or your pity. Now you either join me and have fun, or you can go away.” She releases a heavy breath at her own words, knowing the alcohol is catching up with her and flooding her bloodstream.

As you move to grab the bottle Natasha is choosing to hug close to herself, a tightened grip is placed on your shoulder, “Ahhh, there you are Widow, we missed you over in our little corner-“ Tony decides to implement himself in an unwanted scene.

Natasha picks up the bottle of liquor and takes an immense gulp from its contents as she storms away from Tony. You try to follow her, until Tony stops you once more, “That reminds me, I need to introduce you to-“

You audibly groan at Tony’s incessant disregard for Natasha’s feelings, “Tony! I do not give a fuck about who you want me to meet. I’m trying to clean up a mess that you caused since you’re clearly too self absorbed to deal with it on your own tonight-“

Tony turns his features down in a rare calmness, seemingly taking your sour words towards his behaviour.

That is until Yelena rushes towards you, “Y/n, where’s Natasha!?”

“She was just here until-“ Your words are drowned out by the thunderous beat of the speakers placed around the room, as they begin to blast out a steady beat belonging to the iconic song ‘Hypnotize’ by The Notorious B.I.G.

Tony releases an ear-splitting set of whistles as his eyes land on the scene that the crowd around you eagerly rush towards.

As Yelena and yourself look towards your left, you’re met with quite frankly a horrifying scene of Natasha hoisting herself up on a steel table.

Without a second thought, you rush towards the edge of the table. Having to listen to the crowd now encouraging and cheering Natasha on for her drunken performance.

Natasha effortlessly moves to the beat resounding throughout the Compound, playing up to the chants of her name as she swings her arms in calculated movements to the rest of her body.

Each sway of her hips allows her to sink further into her routine, losing herself in the music.

Yelena attempts to catch Natasha’s attention, though the music easily overpowers any protests made, not that Natasha would listen to reason anyway.

Natasha rubs her hands across the darkened material of her dress, accentuating her features concealed by the tailored covering.

You can only watch in disbelief from the side, mortified that the situation has escalated so quickly.

As the music continues, so does Natasha’s movements. She picks up in confidence and drops her knees to surge back up into a twirl, earning a chorus of cheers.

As Natasha drops to her knees completely in front of you, she uses her focused gaze to study you; choosing to thrash her arms and body in rhythmic ways. You shake your head at her behaviour, especially when she chooses to caress your face with a gentle hand before pushing it away suddenly, attempting to get a reaction out of you.

Failing to do so, Natasha shrugs and manoeuvres herself back on her hands and knees, using the flat surface of the table to assist her movements easily. She lazily lets her hair dangle down as she continues to move her body to the music.

With a forceful flip of her head, she resumes a standing position, allowing her feet to mindlessly move for her. Though, the surrounding crowd heightens as the song goes on, causing spillages from glasses to splash wherever they may please. Natasha’s foot catches on a spillage of Vodka, causing her to slip off the table.

You instantly unfold your arms and catch her before she can hit the floor. The crowd failed to notice her fall, too engrossed in the music and atmosphere.

Natasha wraps her arms around your neck as you attempt to stand her up. However, from her drunken state and constant twirls, her head takes a turn for the worst and sends her vision spinning. She chooses to fully relax into your arms, refusing to stand.

Yelena grabs Natasha’s arm in order to pull her up some more, “This is not like her at all, I do not know what to do.” Yelena announces, worried for her Sister.

“Lena, I’ll look after her and make sure she is okay. You go find the others and try and get everyone to go home.” You offer to Yelena, knowing her increased worry may not be the best for the situation regarding Natasha currently.

Yelena nods and gives you a grateful smile; briefly hugging Natasha before making her way across the room.

Having time to ground herself, Natasha stands up slightly. You move a steady arm under her as she wraps one arm across your shoulder, giving her the guidance needed to stagger out from the crowds.

As Natasha is incredibly unsteady on her feet, her constant sways and staggers resort to you practically carrying her to the elevator; deducing that stairs to the Avenger’s living quarters may not be suitable for Natasha at this moment in time.

Taking the last steps towards the elevator doors, you tighten your grip on Natasha as you use your free arm to press the ‘call’ button for the elevator.

In the distance the music slowly dies down, allowing you to hear Natasha’s words, “That was such a good party, we should do more things like that, huh y/n/n.”

You find yourself agreeing with Natasha, hoping to keep her awake enough and in light spirits to make the journey back to her room easier.

As the doors open, you guide Natasha forward, until she refuses your help and leans against the bar fixed onto the wall of the modern elevator. You make a point to stay close to her, knowing her confidence in her own balance is greatly misjudged.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, can you take us to the living quarters level please?” You input your desired floor choice to the A.I. system, receiving confirmation.

“No, let’s go up to the roof, the stars will be out and we can look at each and every one of them.” Natasha slurs out.

You shake your head at her words, “I think what you need is sleep.” You direct towards an unimpressed Natasha.

She pouts her lip in challenge at your words, “Well maybe sleep needs me, did you consider that y/n?” Natasha asks seriously, causing you to chuckle at her confusing remark.

“I do apologise Nat, how silly of me for not considering that option.” You play along, allowing Natasha to rest her head on your shoulder at your agreement.

“Mhm, very silly. Hey J.A.R.V.I.S, did you see me dance?” Natasha sleepily questions the A.I. as the elevator shifts in movement to journey upwards towards the correct floor.

“Indeed Miss Romanoff, it was rather… splendid.”

Natasha closes her eyes and beams at J.A.R.V.I.S’ words, earning an eye roll from you, not forgetting the stress it caused to Yelena and yourself.

As you arrive at the designated floor, you whisper to Natasha in order to not disturb the serenity created from the sudden silence, “Hey, we’re here.”

Natasha intakes a sharp breath through her nose as she goes to move forward, though this time she reaches out for your help- which you gladly provide.

You pace yourself towards Natasha’s bedroom door, only experiencing the odd trip from her unsteady feet.

Once you make it, you’re stopped by Natasha’s curious questioning, “Why are we here? This isn’t my door.”

You frown at her words, “What do you mean? This is your door Nat.”

Natasha shakes her head defiantly, “No, this isn’t my door, my door is charcoal coloured.”

You look towards the charcoal door in front of you, smirking at the realisation that the alcohol isn’t done influencing Natasha’s serious nature.

“Well if it isn’t your door, who’s is it?” You question.

Natasha studies your face intently, quite possibly attempting to gauge an answer from you, “Hmm, I guess we’ll never know.” Natasha sighs out eventually.

You hum in agreement as you input Natasha’s passcode on the Lock Screen sealing the door- having exchanged each other’s passcodes for any late night visits the pair of you have picked up on along the months of your ever-growing friendship.

Once the code is accepted and a successful beep is heard, you push down on the handle of the door and enter Natasha’s well organised room.

Natasha gazes in astonishment at the tech, apparently never having seen it before- rejecting the possibility of her daily use of the tech to enter and lock her own bedroom.

As she slurs out her pure amazement at the action carried out, you guide her into her room and gently allow her to sit on her bed, moving to switch on the closest light.

As the desk light partially illuminates the room, Natasha flinches at the bright source, grumbling some curses at the pain straining her eyes.

She uses her hands to rub at her eyes in an attempt to work out the pain, unknowingly smudging her once perfectly kept mascara across her eyes.

As she looks up at you, you notice her make-up predicament and move towards her en suite to fetch several make-up wipes to remove the excess marks now smeared across her face.

“Come here.” You say as you sit next to her, guiding her gaze towards you as you gently move the damp wipe across her face delicately.

Natasha closes her eyes and relaxes into your movements, not having the energy to do much else and feeling the initial buzz of the alcohol wearing off.

As you continue to clear her face, she mumbles out a quiet ‘thank you’.

“What for?” You speak gently as you concentrate on your task.

Natasha opens her eyes once she feels your movements stop, reaching for another wipe to remove her lipstick, “For looking after me, for always being there for me. For being you.” She lets out slowly.

“Always Nat, you’re one of the most important people in my life, I’d do anything to be there for you.”

Natasha’s head suddenly lolls to the side, causing you to put your hands up either side of her to prevent her from falling until she steadies herself- tiredness settling in.

As a few seconds pass for Natasha to regain herself, she speaks once more, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier when you tried to help me.”

You wave a hand to dismiss her words, “Don’t worry about it, you were upset and Tony was being an asshole. I get it.”

As you go to bunch the used and now dried out make-up wipes, Natasha suddenly finds herself asking, “W-would you maybe stay the night?”

Her eyes widen momentarily in fear of rejection, until you smile at her words, “Yeah, of course I will.”

Natasha feels a bubbling of excitement in her stomach, with having you taking care of her and willing to stay, she uses her missed opportunity from earlier in the day to fuel her newfound confidence from what she can only assume to be the alcohol, “Y/n, I have feelings for you. Not like a best friend kind of way, more of a I want to spend every waking minute of everyday loving you kind of way.-“

You freeze in your place, never expecting those words to ever leave Natasha’s mouth- of course you’ve hoped for them, but to hear them out loud is everything you could have dreamed for and more.

Unfortunately for Natasha, she doesn’t have insight to your mind and fails to notice the now heart fluttering thoughts bursting with the idea that Natasha reciprocates your love clouding your mind.

Natasha retreats into herself, silently scolding herself for being so careless with her emotions. How could she be so naive to think you’d feel the same way, she should have never assumed you’d automatically understand her love for you. She should have never got into this state because now she could have cost herself your friendship.

Natasha continues to torment herself, unwillingly reliving the haunting lessons and words originating from the Red Room itself.

That is until you speak up, “Natasha, I have feelings for you too-“

Natasha meets your gaze with tear filled eyes, to which you instantly move closer to wipe away any that dare to escape.

She can’t help the sobs that escape her, pure relief of knowing you feel the same way about her as she does for you.

You steadily bring her into a hug, choosing to shuffle the two of you back towards the headboard of the bed and seeking a more comfortable position.

Natasha moves herself to lay against your side as you draw soothing circles across her arm. From the mixed emotions of the night and the alcohol, it was bound to end in tears, she’s just thankful to have you here to comfort her.

“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way.” Natasha sniffles out, causing you to give her a reassuring squeeze.

“Nat, I’ve always known how much I love you. Everything about you is so captivating. You never fail to make me smile or laugh; you’re always there for me when I need you. You make me want to be the best version of myself Natasha. I know I’d be lost without you, because without you Nat, life would lose all meaning. You give me so much to look forward to, it was just being able to hang out with you and see your mesmerising smile in the morning; that or some sarcastic remark that I should probably take offence towards but you’re so quick witted, I’ll let it slide. Though now, I get to look forward to so much more, like-“

You choose to look down and come to the realisation that Natasha is asleep, soft snores sounding from her as she uses half of your body as a designated pillow.

Refusing to disturb her peacefulness, you relax your body into the mattress and allow a form of slumber to overcome you, not before whispering a soft ‘goodnight’ to Natasha, finally knowing that the woman that stole your heart all those months ago, is the woman you’ll happily love for the remainder of your days.

———-

A soft heat spreads across your cheek as your eyes flutter open from the sunlight that trickles through the gaps of open blinds across the room from you.

In your sleepy haziness, it takes you a moment to register your surroundings, until the events of the previous night come rushing back to you.

A slight shift from the woman beside you catches your attention, as does the sticky note attached to her shoulder. You slowly move to peel it away, successfully not disturbing Natasha as you move to read the note.

‘It is about time you two declared your undying love for each other!

Y/n, thank you for taking care of Natasha and always being someone we can all rely on.

Sestra, I have left some painkillers and water on the side for your undoubtedly raging headache- and yes I will be back in the morning to remind you of all the embarrassing things you got up to.

Lena. ’

You smile at the handwritten note, looking over to see the stated painkiller and water combo for Natasha’s awaiting hangover on her desk- Yelena must have come in to check on Natasha after everyone went home.

Your thoughts are disturbed when a rather groggy Natasha speaks, “My head feels as though the Hulk himself has played football with it.”

You chuckle at Natasha’s words, loving the way she snuggles further into your embrace. As you are about to ask Natasha how she is feeling, she beats you to the mark with her own question.

“So, you love me huh?” Natasha suddenly asks.

You look down to see her eyes now fixated on your face, “I wasn’t sure if you would have remembered.” You let out, relieved beyond compare that Natasha recalled the conversation from the night before.

“Of course I do, when you love someone for all that time and they say it back; you make a point to remember it y/n/n.” Natasha smiles up at you, admiring your beauty up close, desperate to stay in this moment forever- despite the throbbing head and burning throat.

“Now, if you really do love me, then you’ll get me some painkillers and-“

“Already taken care of.” You pass Natasha the note left behind by Yelena. She squints furiously as she attempts to decipher Yelena’s note, widening her eyes and closing them several times to work the tiredness out of them.

Natasha groans in displeasure once she reaches the end of the note, “Oh god, was I really that bad last night?” She asks as she uses the note to cover her embarrassed features.

You tilt your head in pretend thought, “Well… yes, you were very soft and it was quite the experience but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Natasha playfully smacks your arm, moving herself to hide her head under her pillow to mumble out a false ‘I hate you’.

You laugh as you remove the pillow from her face and lean down to see her, taking care not to disturb her pained head too much, “I love you too.” You reply in the same manner as Natasha, allowing her to lean up and place a soft, yet well worth the wait kiss on your lips.

As you pull away, you fail to disguise the blush spreading across your face; using Natasha’s tactic of using the pillow to shield your face from her teasing manner.

A few stolen kisses; many whispered ‘I love you’s’ and unlimited heartwarming hugs later, you could finally admit that life couldn’t be more perfect.

It’s safe to say that you’re officially drunk on love.

————————

Taglist: @beefromanoff

#natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #black widow #natasha romanoff one shot #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fan fic #slightly smarter nat’s writing #slightly smarter nat #slightly smarter nat’s requests #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #anon request #black widow x reader #avenger reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic

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spidybaby · 10 months

Text

Flowers

Summary: Who would have thought some flowers can make that much drama.

Warnings: none, kinda angsty but fluffy.

A/N: I've been so busy with college that I feel bad for not posting. So here's this piece. Hope you like it 😀💛

Everything started with your friend giving you the idea of pranking Kylian, posting a story of some flowers with the caption "thank you baby ❤️"

At first, you didn't want to because Kylian was the kind of boyfriend to always give you flowers, taking you to dinner, doing little things for you.

But when the vacation started, he went to Miami with Achraf and Melissa. You declined his invite to go with him. Due to your work, you needed to be available for your coworkers since you were just promoted as a higher up.

Melissa was sad. It was her first vacation away from the kids and now away from you. You both became really close since you began dating Kylian.

Kylian is someone who girls always try to get with. Something you weren't to moved to, it didn't worry you. You trusted him, and he trusted you. It's teamwork.

Something that began to worry you was him not answering his phone, your texts, nothing. It was like he went ghost mode.

You thought it was because his data was not active or something, but then you saw the ig post. He has data to post, then he can at least dm you to let you know he was fine.

You didn't need him to be glue to the phone for you, but at least let you know he was fine. Only that.

So, you texted Melissa, asking her if she was enjoying the vacation, if she was tanning. But, she left you on read.

That's when the words of your friend made sound in your head. Was that a good thing to do?

"Of course it is. It's a harmless story, and you can even text him saying "thank you for my flowers while you're away." Your friend says, looking at the flower catalog. "So this peonies, please"

You open your phone just to see the seen texts. You didn't understand why he was acting like that. If he wanted a space free vacation, he could have said it.

"Okay, all done. Let's go." Your friend says, grabbing your arm to drag you outside of the store.

"Wait, did you pay?"

"Yes, you'll get them tomorrow."

You both ended up at some cafe, talking about the updates of your lives.

"Don't worry, if you're not comfortable with this, you don't have to do it." She says as she leaves you on the door of your house.

"I'll think about it."

You wave her goodbye as she drives off.

You went off with your night, didn't want to bother Kylian. Maybe he's busy and needs a breath from everything. Maybe he wanted to be alone for a while.

"Maybe you're too much for him," a voice in your head says.

Okay, no, you're not. If you were, he would not be with you.

You push all those thoughts out of your head and decide to sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

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You saw the pictures he posted, the outfit you helped him put together. Yet he still hasn't answered your texts.

You take a look at your bouquet of peonies, you think a little bit before taking the picture. You add a white heart, uploading it to your story.

You send a pic to him over text, thanking him for sending them while he was on vacation.

You decide to turn off your phone as soon as you start receiving the notifications of instagram. You turn on your TV and start your favorite show, taking a caring only on the TV.

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Kylian was calmly talking with Achraf. They were going to dinner with some friends of him.

"Kylian, you're such a lover boy for your girlfriend." Melissa says, looking at your story. Kylian didn't understand, but he just nodded.

He got that type of comment from Achraf, too. He was kind of confused about why the sudden interest on him being a "good boyfriend."

It was not clear until Neymar texted him, asking him where he found the peonies, wanting to get some for his baby gender reveal and not being able due to the shortage of them.

He frowned, reading the text, Neymar attached a picture of your story.

You tag him in a story of a big bouquet of peonies thanking him. He never sent you that bouquet. He told Neymar that he will text him the info, but he didn't have any info to share.

He quickly noticed the text you sent him. "Thank you, mon amour. You're the best ❤️ I love peonies, and you know it 🥰" He tried to call several times. You didn't answer. It went straight to voice mail.

After that, Melissa asked him what was wrong, and when he explained, she tried to call you, nothing. Even Achraf gave his phone to Kylian, nothing.

He was worried. Who sent you flowers? Why would someone send you flowers? Were you aware he was not the one sending you flowers?

He stayed in, but for nothing, you weren't answering your phone.

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You turn your phone back on the next day. You needed to make some calls and send some emails so you will do it from your phone.

The first thing you saw was that you have 5 missed calls from Melissa, 8 from Kylian and even two from Achraf.

You also got a lot of texts. Even one from Bruna, Neymar's girlfriend, she was asking me to ask Kylian where he found the peonies. She wanted some for her gender reveal.

You answer her, giving her the info from the florist. And also assuring her that you will be at her gender reveal.

Another text was from Ethan, asking you to go out but using that insta story to deliver the message. You say yes.

And then a text message from your boyfriend. He was asking if you're available to call you. You wanted to say yes, call him and talk, but your toxic side says no. Let him overthink. So you ignored his, Melissa's, and Achraf texts. Instead, you call Ethan and tell him you'll pick him up to go to brunch.

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"You have to calm down." Achraf says, watching Kylian passing around the room, phone in hand. "Maybe you did send them, and you're forgetting it." He shakes his head no, he didn't. He would remember.

"I didn't."

"Ethan and her are going out." Melissa says, reading the text Fayza sent her. "They're going out for brunch."

"Why is she not answering my texts or calls then?" Kylian sat down, angry.

"Maybe because you haven't answered hers." Achraf points out.

Melissa agreed with him.

"But she told me she was going to be busy." He almost screamed. "I didn't want to distract her."

"Okay, but you even told Melissa not to answer her. Maybe she's mad at you."

And I was true, Kylian told Melissa not to bother you. Since you got your new work, you were busy, so he didn't want you to feel like you were pressured to do a lot of things at the same time.

"But.-"

"But nothing," Achraf interrupts. "Let's not worry, even if the flowers are from another dude, she thanked you. She's not thinking about anyone else."

They both shut his insecurities, and Melissa took his phone. She sent you a text saying sorry for not answering and sending you some pictures.

The rest of his vacation was weird, he keeps sending you texts, and you kept ignoring him but updating your social media.

Melissa and you talked, you told her about the plan you and your friend had. She laughed and told you it was all between you and her.

Kylian, on the other side, was overthinking. He wanted to go back to Paris and be with you. In the last few, he sent you different things. He sent you flowers, he sent you chocolate, he sent you your favorite food, and he sent you your favorite coffee to your work.

You find all that cute and funny. He was so jealous. Your friend and you enjoyed the moment. He was getting his own medicine.

The day of his return, you text him as if nothing happened. Asking if he wanted to be picked up by you.

He immediately say yes, asking you how you were, if you received his things, you just answered with a "see you at the airport, amour"

Making him worried sick. Are you mad at him? Are you breaking up with him? Are you mad about something else? Achraf made him stop, telling him he was overthinking.

The whole flight he was thinking about you, he even texted Ethan for help, asking him to reserve for a super fancy restaurant, to run to the jewelry for something special for you and even asked his mother to go with his brother to pick you a special dress for the night.

When he arrived, it was 10 am. Perfect time for him to rest and to be with you all day and have that special date at night.

You waited at the parking of the airport, his driver was there with you, since he sent him to get you. Due to the flight being private, you could wait there.

You see the plane landing, and your stomach is full of butterflies. You missed him, too much for you to admit outloud.

When Achraf and Melissa got out of the plane, you and Lana got out of the car. Lana ran to her mother, and you said hi to Hakimi. After lana and Melissa greet each other you hugged her.

When Kylian was down, he waited for you and Melissa to talk a little bit, hugging his niece. Melissa pointed with the head to Kylian, who has his eyes fixed on you.

"Hi," you say softly, hugging him tight. "I missed you." You kiss his cheek. He was happy to see you, his face buried in your neck, enjoying the perfume he loved so much.

"I miss you more," he kissed your neck, making shivers run down your spine. He can feel them. Loving how your body reacts to him. Only him.

"Let's go, lovebirds," Melissa says, laughing as she enters the car. "You can talk at home." You both laugh, Kylian kisses your lips and walks hand in hand with you to the car.

The whole trip to his home was them telling you about the trip, and Lana asked some questions to her mom.

"Text me when you're home." You say to Melissa, she was going to her house, leaving Kylian and you alone at his own house. "Bye, Lana." You both waved them goodbye and enter his house.

"Come here." You say closing the door. You open your arms to him, kissing his lips. "I missed you so much, you have to tell me everything."

"I had so much fun, we have to go together, again, it's such a vibe."

You both walked upstairs, he needed to rest and you were helping him with the suitcase. "Thank you," he says, looking at you organizing his stuff. "I have something for you."

"More?" You laugh. "All you did was send me things. You already gave me enough, Ky."

"There's never enough with me." The cocky tone of voice he's using is funny to you. Sometimes you forget your boyfriend is The Kylian Mbappé. "I even have a whole plan for us tonight."

"Kylian, you have to rest." You put the suitcase down, leaving it for later. You needed to cuddle him. "I love you, but you're probably tired. I want you to feel good for this new season."

"I'll do that, but I have to spoil my baby. If I don't do that, who will?"

You spend the day with him in bed, both resting and loving the time you have together. This tight schedule doesn't allow this kind of moment very often, so you both learned to work around it.

Spending every minute you can together, after practice, after every match, free days, holidays. Every second was important for you. Even if it was only a hug and good luck or if it was a whole night, you appreciated everything.

You went home to get ready, his driver telling you he was collecting you at six o'clock. You thank him and run inside your house to get ready.

The first thing you see when you walk inside is the big designer bags. You gasped, not expecting all that.

You open your phone to thank Kylian for the things, assuring him that I was too much for a date night and you'll make it up to him.

After a long shower, you did your makeup and style your hair, using the fragrance you know he loves and wearing the dress he gave you. It was a beautiful black dress, he also went out of the way and got you this diamond necklace that's the perfect match for one he owns.

The driver picked you up at the exact time. He was alone. On the seat was this other gift, you sigh. He's killing you with all the gifts.

The little note attached to the black box reads "Open me" next to a heart he obviously drew. Inside was this lock bracelet from Tiffany.

"You're just the best 😍" you text him with a picture of the bracelet on you.

He was so excited for you to arrive. His foot is moving with impatience. He wants you to know he's all you need.

He knows that he's going out his way, giving you a little more than necessary, but he has all the money in the world when it comes to you. Never checking the price tag. It was for you so he didn't care how much.

"Hey handsome, care if I sit?" You whisper in his ear, making he shiver. He gets up to pull your chair out for you. "Thank you, such a gentleman." You kiss his cheek before taking a seat.

"I just want you to know how much I love you." He says, sitting back on the chair. "I'll do anything for you."

"Even if that meant going bankrupt for me." You joke. He laughs loud, not caring about people or nothing. You love seeing him like that, so free, so happy.

"I'll give you everything you want."

"I know, you know I'll do that too, just not that crazy with diamonds. But I'm all yours if that make it up."

You both talk about everything and nothing at the same time, Kylian rambles about life, sports, and his family. And you do the same.

"You know what's funny?" You ask him, ready to confess the whole bouquet thing. Knowing all his doing is his normal self but also is a little him being jealous.

"Tell me, amour." He grabs your hands. Bringing them to his mouth.

"You did all of this for some flowers."

You don't miss the way his body pauses for a second. He's not making eye contact like before. "What?- What are you talking about?" He laughs nervously.

"You got jealous because someone sent me that bouquet, so you started to send me more flowers, some chocolate, food, coffee, you did all of this." You drink your wine, enjoying how his mind is working trying to make an excuse.

"I don't recall, maybe you're confused." He says, eating more of his food.

"So you don't recall calling me eight times because you didn't send me that beautiful peonies bouquet?" You ask again. He's just shaking his head and eating. "Well, I do, and I got to thank my friend for sending it."

He choke on a piece of stake, coughing dramatically. "You have to what now?" He asks after a big sip of wine.

You explain to him everything. He's embarrassed for believing you meant you weren't coming because you were so busy that you couldn't even answer his texts.

After reassuring him, it was okay, but agreeing on talking more openly when this kind of doubt ran his head. He apologized, and you did too.

With him, everything is easy. Talking, laughing, and loving. He's yours, and you're his. No matter the gifts , the trips, the busy schedule. He's yours and only yours yo admire, to love and to share a life with.

"Let's pay and go home, champ," you say, making a signal to the waiter to bring you the check. "I promise you I was making it up to you for all the gifts." You caress his hand with your nails. Thing that he loves.

"You know you don't have to."

"Oh, I want to." You intertwine your hands. "Hope you still have that Miami energy. You'll need it for the night."

343 notes · View notes

phoeebsbuffay · 7 months

Text

Imagine you are Hayden Christensen's closest friend from college and you help him going through his divorce. Will friendship be enough for either of you? Based on the request made by @calzone-d ...

Warnings: *long post*, drama, explicit smut, fluffy endings.

Recommendations: "Summertime Sadness", "Ride", by Lana Del Rey; “Scared to be Lonely” by Dua Lipa; “Here with me”, by the Killers; “Always” by Gavin James.

***

How it started...

You were 19 years old when you finally got the chance to study cinema at Y/C's university. An old dream you had, to be able to transmit onscreen all your ideas. Your family encouraged you to pursuit the academy of arts in order to become an actress, but you thought yourself too introspective to act.

Well, here you were when you met him. The one who was destined to remain a principal figure in your life over the years. Taking acting classes--well, you did need to study it anyway--you bumped into Hayden Christensen.

"Excuse me", he said to you, a little out of breath.."Is this the acting class with Miss H/N? I fear I am slightly late..."

You remembered finding his blue eyes the handsomest pair of eyes you ever came across with: they were intense, secretive, but friendly too, somewhat emotional. You were instantly captivated.

"Yes, it is. And you are not in the slightest late, young man, but /very/ late indeed. Come in, take your seat, I'll have you updated..."

He gives you a long gaze, relieved for being saved from a bigger trouble—and you can tell he is a freshman like you.

“My name is Y/N”, you side smirk at him.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I am Hayden.”

You both shake hands. Something ignites within, but you think it’s because he has such a good aura…

“You are such a great actress!”, he is telling you, so many months later. “Quit with the production, you are better than me in decorating the lines.”

You grimace, which makes him laugh. The sound of his laughter is so comforting, like this call to your home.

“I don’t like this acting thing”, you dismiss his compliments nonchalantly. Today, you are in a cafeteria, celebrating the end of another semester. One more to go and you will be ready to keep up with your lives, though you and Hayden had vowed to each other never to be apart. “I feel more comfortable behind the cameras. By the way, I just had this idea!”

And then you lean to him, ready to shake him by his shoulders. He nearly chokes with his coke—but then laughing as always because your impulsiveness often brings him to laughters.

“For the love of God, woman. Do you want to see me dead before the time?”

You side smirk, silently apologizing with your puppy eyes. Hayden smiles back, before encouraging with what you had to say with only a nod. As you do, he seems to suddenly notice how nice your hair looks this day.

“I just had the greatest idea ever! I could film your audition and send to George Lucas. The Star Wars director is looking for someone of our age to portray young Anakin Skywalker. You know, before he becomes Darth Vader, of course.”

Hayden is taken aback by what you tell him. You can see the mix of sentiments that rises behind his blue eyes: insecurity, suspicious before reasoning to excitement.

“What? Are you for real, Y/N? How come did you hear about it? I mean…”

You tell him how your internship led you to it. This is how the fun begins, how both of you in fact begin your career.

You are there in every moment of his life: when Hayden has to conciliate his last semester with the filming of “Episode II: Attack of the Clones”, when he tells you that he and his on-screen romantic pair are having a thing.

He is also present at your graduation, the moment when you begin to transit to adulthood. What about it when you get yourself drunk for the very first time?

He is there too.

“I hate the taste of alcohol”, you grumble, unsure how come you are at his couch. “It aches my stomach, makes me sick.”

Hayden chuckles at how all of a suddenly you turn into these kind of discoveries after spending five years in college doing nothing but well behaving. However, due to such a strong bond you two share, he takes care of you.

“This is the moment where I tell you something you told me once: better to put out than to swallow all in.”

You raise your face, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Did you just hear yourself?!”

“Wasn’t that what you told me?”

“No!”, you laugh hard at his remark. “Oh my God, H!”

He chuckles after you.

“Well, it did make you laugh, didn’t it?”

***

• The subtle changes…

You are single again. Your ex dumped you. Coincidently, Hayden is single as well. He’s also been going through a difficult phase in his life after all the critics coming from the fans of “Star Wars”. “Episode III” of the franchise didn’t go that well and even though it’s been a year since it’s release, he’s still affected by it.

“We’ve been through so much together”, Hayden tells you one day. “We should definitely do something new for a change.”

“I agree”, you sigh. Currently unemployed, you haven’t been yourself lately either. “Any thoughts?”

“A good journey would do us well. Let us go to Scotland”, so he says, excited. “Come on, Y/N. I’ll let you drive!”

You chuckle at his old tendency to be so reckless. And you do so because you can’t refuse him anything. A bad omen you clearly ignore, of course.

“Very well. When should we do this trip?”

But why’d you bother to ask when you know the answer? Hayden smiles warmly at him.

Oh that damn smile…

“Tomorrow. I’ve already bought the tickets and booked the hotel.”

You scoff at him, offended.

“What? Why? Are you taking me for granted, Christensen? For the love of God…”

Just like that he lifts you up and throws you over his shoulder, smiling as you scream out of surprise. As he puts you down, Hayden messes with your hair, delighted when seeing he’s the reason of your amusement.

And he realizes this is a nice view to contemplate: the sight of your smile, the sound of your laughters, the joy that sparks in your eyes… Seeing you like this makes him genuinely smile in his turn and forget about his bad phase.

But he doesn’t realize that this may mean something else. Or perhaps he doesn’t want to. It’s been years now since you and him became the closest of the friends, so what if all of this is just the result of genuine admiration from one friend to the other?

Regardless, he’s going to take you with him to Scotland. And so you go with him… It is wild to consider how you are usually all straight, not doing nothing that goes out the line all the whilst Hayden is more prompted to take chances and live the present quite intently.

On that fact you blame him being very aries all the whilst you, as taurus lady, prefer to know where you are going. However, he makes life so interesting that even you, as already observed, cannot deny him anything.

So here you are now at Edinburgh.

“I love everything that is medieval”, you tell him excitedly with a spark in your eyes that makes Hayden smile. He does like when you speak passionately about the things you are interested. “I cannot believe I took so long to come here!”

“Yeah, me neither!”

It is a good time to be alive, both of you agree. The landscape is seductive, peaceful, traits much sought after such a bad period you both went through. People too are kind, albeit reserved, but very pleasant.

Those days are being built in your memory as something great to be remembered, but perhaps there is just more that neither seem too attentive…

“Lady, one bedroom with two beds”, asks Hayden, when you got to London eventually because he, of course, is a man who plans very little—much to your distress, the woman who likes everything settled.

But this is not any hotel, but a fanciful one. The said lady looks at him pitifully.

“Mr Christensen, my apologies, but there is only a suite with one bed.”

You two blush, but Hayden somehow doesn’t mind it. This is when you realize you not only don’t mind it but you also want it…badly. Perhaps that’s why you sabotage it.

“You know what? Let’s make it for another day. Come now, Hayden. Thank you”, you blurt out, pushing him outside.

“What the hell was that?”, he frowns at you. “Y/N, what’s wrong with sharing a bed? Do you honestly think anything would happen or what?”

He doesn’t realize his words hurt you, but in truth there is more than his subtle frustration at your refusal allows him to admit. There is an unspoken rising desire between you.

And of course you have to ruin everything.

“I just… please don’t be upset! It’s because I cannot afford it and…” and you tell him the other reason for it, which appeases his anger and is more palpable than you’d care to admit: you are expecting an interview.

Hayden softens, naturally, but you know he’s changed. You hate it because you know why. There are so many things that suddenly rise in your throat but they die choked.

Somehow Hayden knows it too. But he chickens away. He hugs you instead, not willing to lose his best friend.

“I’m sorry for being such an impulsive jackass. But we did have a great time, didn’t we?”

Oh but if only you knew what waits for you back to US…

***

• The marriage

Here you are, dressed in yellow, standing as a maid in honor for the bride and groom. Your heart breaks because you realize a little too late that you are in love with your best friend.

Worse is: had you accepted to share one bed with Hayden in London, everything would be different. Yeah, you may not have gotten that job as a producer of that movie, but Hayden wouldn’t meet Rachel Bilson.

Nonetheless, here you are. Celebrating their vows, wondering if you could be there for a moment, what would be like if you were her.

“Hey, Y/Nickname!”, Hayden exclaims after the ceremony is over. He is wearing his gorgeous smile and dressed in fanciful robes, which all highlights his handsomeness. But you have learned to bury everything deep inside your heart. A secret that you’d take to your grave.

“I can’t believe you are married, Hay!”, you giggle when you greet him with a tight embrace. “I’m so happy for you! Oh my God, look how grown up you are!”

He laughs quietly.

“I know right? Who’d ever thought? The idea of marriage was hardly ever entertained for me”, so he says.

“Oh right! As I told Rachel once, I do have recollections of your drunkenness state and all that came between”, you laugh too, remembering the first time he had a hangover.

“What a time to be alive”, says Hayden in his typical good mood.

As you speak, you do seem to come to terms that if he is happy, so are you. You are at peace with it at long last. Hayden, on his turn, for a time seems to have suspected that you harbored feelings for him. But he always ignored it for the sake of your friendship. Now seeing how genuinely happy you are for him, certainly he believes it was all a thing of his head.

But why does he have a bittersweet taste of it?

“Could you introduce me to that man over there?” You nudge his sides, pointing to a handsome man that is not very far from Rachel herself.

Hayden raises an eyebrow.

“Really, now, Y/N?”

“You don’t expect me to be a nun, do you?”

He chuckles.

“Well I don’t want to see you get hurt, is all…”

Quite unwillingly, though, he leads the way. And maybe the night will not end that bad for you, after all.

***

•The divorce and the consequences…

In fact, looking back now it was really a great job pushing Hayden to introduce the guy to you because he ended up becoming your boyfriend.

This new relationship of yours, however, changed the dynamics of your friendship with Hayden for some time—but maybe it was all because he was living a different life now, becoming a father in the process.

A few years rolled upon, though, when everything started to fall apart—for you and Hayden. You found out that your new relationship was damaged because you and your boyfriend were scared to be lonely. A crisis developed to fights, to exchange of words that only broke hearts.

In the meantime, Hayden realized how long he missed his best friend. His own marriage started to fall apart, but the more it broke down, the more he needed you again.

Was it a selfish wish to have you by his side? Such questionings never reached you out due to his pride, that masked his hurt. Perhaps he was only scared to be lonely too. He could deal with it himself.

Nonetheless, destiny—the same destiny that pushed one from the other—is about to bring you two together again. One call and your night would be different.

You are single now, ready to go out that night with your girlfriends when suddenly a phone call startles you. It’s Hayden. Your heart races: he hasn’t been the one to call, and hasn’t done so for a long while.

“Hey, H. How are you? Haven’t heard of you for some time. Is everything ok?”, you ask, concerned.

There is a pause that accelerates your heart. You know he is not well. Before he answers, you immediately add:

“I’ll be in your home in a few minutes.”

“I’ll give you the new address. I’m not living with Rachel anymore: we got divorced.”

You are stunned upon those words. Now your silence leaves Hayden uncomfortable. He breaks it by saying:

“Y/Nickname? Are you there?”

“Yes, honey, I am. I’m so sorry, Hay. Please stay there… I’ll be on my way.”

He chuckles.

“Where else would I go to?”

In a matter of minutes, after requesting an Uber, you, dressed the way you are, arrive to his new home. Hayden side smirks when seeing you, though how he eyes you up and down makes you blush lightly.

“Wow, Y/N. Looking hot, aren’t you?”, he laughs when seeing the pink painting your cheeks, hugging you tight when receiving you. “Please tell me I didn’t ruin your night.”

You slap his shoulder playfully, eyes rolling at his drama.

“Don’t say bullshit to me, Christensen. I just wish I knew it properly before. I hope you don’t mind me looking like this.”

“You have always been a distraction to my eyes”, he teases you, pleased to see nothing has really changed between the two of you. “We need some wine, it’s not really a warming night, I suppose.”

As you look into his new apartment, he promptly gets the best wine to serve you. Without your knowledge, Hayden’s eyes follow your moves: noticing your y/c hair is now on your shoulders, how vivid your eyes are, remaining as observing and curious as before.

He cannot help admiring you physically too: though this is a cold night and you are dressed accordingly, when you drop your black coat on his coach, he sees your warming blouse shows some skin.

Indeed, Y/N, looking as hot and beautiful as always. Such is his thought.

He never really told you but Rachel was jealous of you. According to her, she could see you harbored feelings for him and part of her feared Hayden would correspond. Nonsense, he’d tell her.

But now, was she really so wrong? Yet, another and more important question he asks himself is: how could have he let go of you? Not only about matters of sentimentalism, but you’ve been an important piece of his life.

Seeing you back hurts his heart because he now sees the stupidity in letting go of you. He wishes he could have asked you to wait for him, to never let go of you. But this is such a state of complex selfishness that he quiets his internal riot and puts a smile on his lips when bringing the two of you the best wine he has, aware you prefer the sweet ones.

“I was admiring your new apartment”, you tell him, smiling in thanks as he passes you a full glass. “Whoa, looks like we are having a full drinking night, aren’t we? Christensen, I am not that young anymore. Not sure I am prepared to have a full hangover again.”

Hayden cracks loud and the sound of his laughters makes your heart skip a beat. Nothing feels different, you think, pleased.

“I’m bringing us something to eat, silly head. Besides I’ve always taken care of you, right?”

“That is true”, you agree. “But what are we having to eat today?”

“Always hungry, eh?”, he teases you.

You shrug playfully before saying:

“What can I do? I am a Taurus, you know it!”

He rolls his eyes, laughing loud again at your remarks—and that sound has always made your heart race, hasn’t it?

“Not with that astrology nonsense again!”

You slap his arm playfully before joining him in chuckles.

“Always with that astrology nonsense, silly.”

It is not until pizza is brought to you that the serious conversation is finally there.

“So what happened, Hayden?”, you ask him softly.

He sighs heavily, avoiding your gaze. He is silent, but you are patient, giving some time, for which he appreciates it.

“How often do we fall for the idea our minds make of the person?”, says he, sounding frustrated. “Not rarely we come to romantic ideas of marriage that break before the crude reality, you know? It’s not just about being different, Y/N, it’s… the commitment, I suppose, in making everything right. Turns out we had very different ideas of making it right.”

“I’m sorry, Hay. I really am”, you speak gently, taking his hand to yours, realizing how broken he is makes your heart sensitive to his pain.

He appreciates it, but when feeling your skin against him, Hayden is remembered the days before he met Rachel. The way he made you smile, the jokes that brought him to laughters. How easily it was to be around you, how you softened him. He, who was never a sentimental man, hugged you more times than he realized.

But Hayden sweeps away such memories.

“I am too. But I am fine now”, he shrugs. “I mean, not entirely recovered, but better than being broken.”

“Take your time, it’s the best you can do. How long has it been going on?”

Hayden hesitates but says:

“Six months.”

Your eyes go wide and your voice comes louder than expected:

“YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH A DIVORCE SIX MONTHS AGO?”

At least he has the decency to blush.

“Hayden! How could you keep me in secret for such a long time?!”

You’d remove his hand but Hayden doesn’t let you to. Pulling you to his side, he says, almost in a tone of desperation:

“I thought I could handle this by myself”, he explains. “I really didn’t want to bother you…”

Perhaps it’s the wine, but your tongue runs loose with words that have long been choked in your throat.

“And what am I to you? A second option, a plan B that didn’t work out? You’ve kicked me out of your life, Hayden. You’ve never called me to ask me if I was doing ok!”

He gives you a painful look that makes you regret instantly of what you said. You’d think he let go of you and a fight would come—this happened once when both of you were drunk, though by then you were both silly and immature.

“I’ve got a war in my mind for a long while”, he exclaims, holding your wrist and he pulls you even closer to him. “I was fucking stupid, I screwed it, I know. But never would I kick you out of my heart, Y/N! And I… I’m sorry I was fucking blinded by my pain. But only because I feared to hurt you.”

You await for his burst to end, very familiar with his intensity—but when his blue eyes search for yours, your soul is denuded.

Oh fuck.

“I stepped away because he was a douchebag”, he proceeds. “You deserved better than such a man, Y/N. I’ve heard of his doings but I couldn’t reach you out when… when I was in the mid of a crisis myself.”

“You’ve always been too shut in yourself to let others in”, you sigh. “But what relation is there with the fact I was in a relationship?”

“You deserved better”, he says with greeted teeth, holding your face with his hands, both of you barely noticing how your bodies have been dancing dangerously close to each other. “You are still slow after all this time?”

You are shocked, perplexed by his words. You freeze. Hayden smiles slowly at your reaction.

“I feel it everywhere, nothing scares me anymore. I won’t let you go. Now now, not ever. Fuck, I married the wrong person. Heaven has always been my favourite place on Earth when I was with you.”

“You have always been the best”, you mumble incoherently.

Just like that your lips clash against his. In between fervent kisses, where he pulls you to his lap, no reason is admitted. Not anymore.

“I’ve missed you, Y/Nickname”, he groans against your lips. “Like the sun misses the moon.”

“Always the romantic”, you chew his bottom lip as your hands run over his hair, pulling it gently. “Don’t want your memories anymore. Fuck, Christensen, you took so long.”

“This is not a game, I swear”, he breaks the kiss to pursuit your skin, his tongue already on your neck as his hands hold your hips, making you feel his rigid pants.

“Oh Lord. My worst sin is to never be able to refuse you anything”, you hate how wine makes you speak your mind.

Raising his head to watch you intently, he messes with your hair before holding your chin, drawing you closer to him.

Oh that intensity that involves one to the other!

“Then make me a sinner too for giving you all that you deserve.”

You crawl over him, you know you do, when your tongue pursuits his, one pairs the other rhythmically, perfectly. And then he lies you there on the couch, hands already working to remove your pants.

His eyes are set on yours like that of a hunter about to capture his prey. He knows you are on fire and that he is the gasoline. You lean partly to remove his shirt, hands all over him. You gasp when feeling his muscles under your touch and you want more, but…

“Patience, Y/Nickname”, his voice is husky and domineering when laying you down again.

“Yes, Master”, you giggle softly, in such a state that makes you both smile to the other.

And just like that his hands find way to your thighs, gently parting before inserting one right there in your feminine parts, not really taking away your panties for such.

“Oh, God!” You moan sensually, enjoying his eyes on you as he works wonderfully on you. “This is better than I thought!”

“Is it?”, he groans softly in your ear. “How long have you been thinking about it, dear one?”

“For a long while! God knows how much…”, another moan breaks you, earning him a smirk. “Hayden…”

“Yeah?”

“I fucked him thinking about you”, you admit.

His eyes dart, his body shakes lightly with desire. Slowly moving on top of you, his moves increase intently, watching you with desire.

“Damned be you for never speaking your thoughts to me”, he lifts your blouse gently but you help him removing it. As he starts to kiss your neck down to your chest, your legs begin to get heavy at his tenderness. “You should have spoken it to me…”

“Never had I the courage to do so”, you moan, enjoying having his hand over your neck lightly as he bites down your bra, slowly removing it with his mouth.

“For you should. It would have spared us some time. I fucked her thinking of you too”, he admits it drunkly before burying his lips to your nipple, much to your delight.

Hayden ruins you and it’s better than you could have thought. You want him to yourself, to make him unspeakable things but it’s difficult to do or say anything when his lips are so occupied with each nipple, twirling his tongue around it, sucking and biting it.

The sounds in his living room go louder each time. You are brought to heaven, and only then you take control of yourself again.

“Hayden…”, you barely speak when he finishes with you.

You both are a puddle of mess when you, nude, sit over his lap. You share a drunk look, one filled with the darkest desires for so long muffled, now brought to light.

“Yes, babe?” He kisses your shoulders, groaning as you rub yourself against his hardness. “Will you forgive me for such a behavior?”

His words are barely heard when his head is thrown back because your skillful hands find way to his pants and remove it so soon.

You glance at his manhood, impressed by how it is when it’s this hard under your touch.

“You don’t deserve forgiveness”, you giggle softly as you start rubbing it, enjoying to feel the drip of it. “You should be punished.”

He holds back a gasp at your words. Now eyeing you, interested in your upcoming moves. And when you slide to your knees…

“Babe…”

“Yeah?”

One glance. Unspoken words fill the air. And you take with his mouth at long last, not stopping until you have it all down your throat.

“For God’s sake!”, he gasps. “I can’t wait any longer to have you with me!”

All gentleness is left aside when he helps you settle on his lips and he slides inside you. To feel him throbbing like this, going so hard in you makes you arch your back.

“This feels so good!”

His hands move down your back as his lips pursuit your skin, licking and taking every bit of you—though he does know how much you enjoy when he takes his time around your nipples, which he does graciously.

But it’s not until his eyes meet yours, sealing your lips as much as you seal your bodies together, that all is at long last truly consumed….

***

• Nowadays

In a sober state, everything is better appreciated. Hayden watches as you gleefully prepare breakfast. There is nothing but genuinely love in his eyes.

What had started as an explosion of sentiments for so long kept in secret has now flown to what should have always been: a genuine relationship. From friends to lovers. From lovers to something better.

He smiles, not now missing the lateness of his realization that you have always been the love of his life. He stands and moves to behind you, holding you close and smelling your scent as you prepare him some eggs.

“What? I’ve been sensing your eyes over me”, you giggle like a little girl. “Don’t get me weak again, Christensen. This is so not you.”

He turns you at him and holds your face between his hands.

“I love you, Y/Nickname.”

Hayden smiles wide when seeing a blush painting your cheeks. And he beams when you tell him the same.

“I love you too, H. Though I fear I love you more.”

“That is not true”, he protests in between laughters.

But before you fall into that old cliche you and him enjoy in secret intimacy, breakfast is ready. As you two enjoy that morning moment, it doesn’t strike as how many years have passed before you two achieved it at long last.

“I have news to tell”, says Hayden with a bright smile on his lips.

You rest your chin over your hands and say:

“Well? Tell me at once.”

He appreciates all the love that comes from you. The way you look at him, how genuinely you listen and help him in every moment, how kind you always are, how sincere you speak your heart out. So many virtues and even your flaws he appreciates.

There is so much love between the lines and out of them too.

“I was asked to play Anakin Skywalker again.”

And how fantastic you are as his soon to be wife when you jump in his arms excited with his news.

“That is awesome, my darling! I’m so happy for you!”

“A better start than I could have thought”, he admits, pulling you to sit on his lap.

“You deserve it all”, you brush your lips against his. “I love you, my heart.”

“I love you, my soul”, he whispers back.

And this is the ending you deserve.

***

•Epilogue…

When you show up dressed in red—from your full lips to your body—Hayden feels something rise in his chest.

“My God, you look gorgeous, Y/N…”, so he says mischievously when you show up after leaving him waiting for 30 minutes. “It was worth the time…”

You giggle, blushing lightly after all this time. Your hair is loose wavily, put on side as you wear the necklace and earrings Hayden gifted you in your birthday.

“Don’t be silly. Have they arrived yet?”

The occasion is to celebrate Hayden and Ewan’s series “Kenobi”. Hayden’s aforementioned friend said he was going to pick them up in a limo so they’d go all together.

“They are about to… which leaves us a few minutes”, he places right behind you, holding your waist tightly.

“Hayden… It took me some time to get properly dressed. Besides, I…” you get lost at your words when he starts kissing your neck and his hands move up and down your back.

“What are you trying to say?”

Hayden smirks, enjoying the effect he has over you. It’s been some good years since you got together, but even now he manages to get you speechless.

“I…”

Your mind goes blank when he turns you to the mirror and see the naughty look that rests in those blue eyes. His hands move to your breasts, playing with your nipples before slowly exposing them.

“Hayden… they are….” You moan softly, struggling to keep your composure.

He turns you now against the wall of your bathroom, mouth dropping to your full chest all the whilst his hands move to your thighs.

“Hmm”, he sings softly, humming against your skin. “Hot as hell, wife.”

You try not to fall from your heels.

“Hayden!” You cry out when his fingers find all the way to you.

“You get your man on knees every single time. Getting me overzealous, uh?”, he smirks when going to his knees. “All wet for me, honey? Let me taste you thus…”

You are almost ruined as he does so, his tongue in you the way you want him to. You forget yourself, forget the reason why this expensive gown you bought three months ago was quite difficult to dress—precisely why you’d want to tell him by the end of the night.

You forget your state, you forget you should be checking time before your friends arrive. There is nothing to remember as he fucks you with his tongue deliciously until you are about to come undone…

Just like that he lifts your thighs and before you complain, he slides his manhood within, fucking you slowly and pleasantly.

“Oh God!” You scream but he has to quiet your sounds, especially because… the bell is rang.

“That was quick”, he manages to say breathlessly as he rushes to keep himself recomposed.

You giggle, suddenly shy as you do the same.

“Indeed…”

Hayden finds you adorable and peppers kisses around your face.

“They can wait a little. I thought you wanted to say something… you know, before…”

You two share a giggle and he smiles when you bury your face in his shoulder.

“I… I am pregnant, H.”

He hugs you closer. What a night, what a life with you is. Hayden Christensen could not have been any happier…

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine star wars #Hayden Christensen #Anakin Skywalker #darth vader #Hayden Christensen smut #hayden christensen x y/n #Hayden Christensen x female reader

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gojonanami · 1 month

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Do u read any manwha if so do u have any recommendations?

alright I was making a list but I can’t find it — so here’s a new one:

The First Night with the Duke (18+, isakei, comedy, romance): this is my favorite only because it’s hilarious. The ML is kinda a yandere but he’s actually not bad and it’s mostly used for comedic effect. FL is a girl who was reincarnated into a side character’s body of her favorite book and she’s just content to live her life because the character she is has a lot of money. she was gonna stay far away from the ML, but ends up getting drunk and sleeping with him. so what happens when he asks her to take responsibility for taking his virginity (and his heart).

The Broken Ring: This Marriage Will Fail (historical / 18+) : read the tw, this probably isn’t for everyone — six year old Ines chooses Carcel to be her husband because of his pretty face. Carcel believes Ines to be deeply in love, but what happens when she finds out he’s cheating and she doesn’t care? (Multiple lives, cheating but kind of understandable(?), black cat x golden retriever)

Going to Bed with My Hater (modern, 18+): this one is so cute — the FL used to be a big fan of the ML, but when he started taking on mediocre roles, she blasts him as a critic. and then she gets drunk ends up sleeping with him, and has to be on a TV show with him. It’s so cute.

How to Survive as a Maid in a Horror Game (horror / comedy / fantasy / romance(?): this is an interesting one. FL is isakei’d into a bad horror game she was playing the night before that’s known for horrible game mechanics that are very punishing. she gets reincarnated as a maid who is a servant to the heir to this important family and seen as a savior — but he’s actually a murderer and the devil.

The Law of Being Friends with a Male (high school romance, cute, fluffy): FL has a crush on her friend, but her friend confesses that he has a crush on another girl. Friend tries to ask her who her crush is and she describes him vaguely and he thinks he knows who it is — and tries to set her up with his best friend, the ML.

my Cocky Neighbor (18+, neighbors to lovers): this one is a little weird and I would say the main gimmick of this manhwa is essentially all but ignored but putting that aside — I think the dynamic between the ML + FL are so cute. ML is basically your basic playboy who is annoying FL with all his noise at night. She goes over to complain, and he basically slams the door in her face. She accidentally curses him and he becomes a dildo…it’s a whole thing.

Marry My Husband (18+, revenge, second chance at life): funny I finished this one right before the drama dropped. FL lived a horrible life with her husband, and then she found out her best friend and husband were having an affair while she was dying of cancer. they end up murdering her and she is sent back in time. she has a second chance and she wants to get revenge on both of them. but she also finds friends and love along the way!

I will make an attempt to change the genre (isakei, romance, comedy, fantasy) — FL is reincarnated into the body of the evil aunt in her favorite novel — an antagonist who is killed off early on for being shitty and money hungry. she decides to be a good aunt to her nephew, who is the main character, and try to change the course of the story — where he ends up alone for most of his life after the death of several characters. FL ends up involved in the story and finding a love interest in the form of the Duke, who is the nephew’s uncle (uncle on his father’s side, FL is aunt on the mother’s side, so they aren’t related).

I thought my time was up (fantasy, romance, curse): FL has a shitty family and is going to die of a rare magical disease of which there is no cure. so she wants to have a boyfriend before she dies — she has strong purification magic so she makes a deal with a Duke that she will purify his cursed body if he dates her (and then they fall in love).

Not Sew Wicked Stepmother (romance, comedy, isakai, fairytale, mentions of SA): a woman is isakai’d into the body of essentially the plot of Snow White — her stepdaughter is about 11 and the stepmother was been treating her badly until she was taken over by the MC. MC just loves the daughter and wants her to be happy. She gives her husband the space he wants and demonstrates that she wants her stepdaughter to be happy and he starts to fall for her.

Honorable Mentions

his family is obsessed with me

I’m stanning the Prince

the evil lady’s hero

#sab speaks #sab [recs]#I may add to this list #sorry it took so long lmao #I kept wanting to add things so I had to stop myself

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ystrike1 · 1 year

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He Awakened When I Died - By 자요 (7.5/10)

A side character. A broken, unwanted Ducal son. They're friends, not lovers. Nothing romantic will happen I'm sure. In this world power is all that matters. If you have noble blood it's worthless without power. Our protagonist accidentally befriends the unwanted boy before he becomes special, and their special friendship brings forth unexpected consequences.

Bliss Hope is the illegitimate son of a Duke. Duke Hope kept him because he wanted another magical son, but Bliss didn't awaken before the age of ten. Nobles that get their powers after that time are always...weak.

Bliss is so universally disliked that he gets banned from his own birthday parties. Everybody else eats the cake meant for him while they talk about how useless he is.

That's...rough...

This is Shana.

Magicians can also have guardian pets. Bliss summons a fluffball that will turn into a dragon when he gets his magic.

The girl that dies.

That's her role.

Bliss is destined to meet a special woman that melts his heart through...touching later in life. Bliss hasn't awakened, but he's an ice mage. He needs body heat, but nobody touches him because he's a dirty and weak boy. Shana holds his hand and they become friends.

Bliss is very handsome after five years of blade training.

Fluffy is pure white under a layer of dirt.

He's also basically a beast king.

Shana has a good and sisterly relationship with him. She blushes because he's handsome but they do talk like siblings.

Shana is very comfortable around him.

Shana finds a plant called the Devil's Dream. She needs to fake her own death and leave Bliss. He's destined to meet a sensual lover, and Bliss is part of a dangerous family. She needs to escape. Noah the pharmacist helps her because his secret boss wants to get closer to Bliss. Other countries know that magical guardians are rare and prized. Bliss may not be strong yet, but his Fluffy Thingy makes him a valuable political ally.

Shana fakes her death.

We get a reveal.

Bliss has been ACTING kind and brotherly. He wants Shana to be trapped beside him forever. He doesn't actually want his powers to awaken. He wants to live in his father's lonely spare mansion with her until death do they part.

Well, death shows up.

Bliss begs for help.

Duke Hope says he will not allow the family doctor to look at a servant. Bliss begs for help. The guests at the party he wasn't invited to start laughing. Bliss begs for help, and he apologizes for causing a scene. He says he will do any kind of hard labor in exchange for help from a healer.

Silence.

Duke Hope says having a corpse in the ballroom is disgusting, and he needs to bury it.

Power is king in this nation of magical nobles. Bliss is literally a dog to them, and Shana is a weak magical instructor from a lesser family.

Bliss begs for help.

Shana's heart stops beating, and he hears her go silent, because he's holding her in his arms.

His magical awakening happens, and he freezes the entire ballroom. Noah's mystery boss appears. That boss offers to save Shana.

He damn well knows she isn't dead.

Much drama goes on while she's sleeping.

Kyle, the secret boss, explains what happened.

Shana ingested death plants to get away from him.

To escape from him.

Bliss does not take this well. He reveals his true colors as soon as she wakes up. Shana isn't special, by the way. She's really definitely a mage with middling abilities, and Bliss just became one of the strongest mages in the land the day before. He asks her why she left...and everything is different.

Her harmless little brother is gone.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon

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coupsie-daisies · 6 months

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Kinktober '23: Mommy Kink | Yoon Jeonghan

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023

Summary: A conversation with your friends leads to a slip up during an intimate moment with Jeonghan, and he's determined to hold it over your head, not that you mind one bit

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Petnames (baby, princess), oral (fem receiving), fingering, Jeonghan is a tease, dirty talk, Jeonghan is called Mommy, Reader kinda spaces out after orgasming, soft shit at the end, a pussy slap

A/N: This is unedited, but I thought it was cute

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Having a pretty boy for a boyfriend was delightful. He made sure you wore matching outfits, and let you style his hair as long as you let him do your makeup sometimes. It was a bonding experience really. The most amusing part was the way your friends reacted. They were enamored with him, almost as much as you were, and it led to a lot of long conversations that would always stick in your mind.

Like the time they grilled you about his skincare routine because they were jealous of his complexion. Or the time that they questioned which one of you really wore the pants in the relationship (and you were delighted to tell them that you did, but you were kind enough to let him think he was in charge). Or, most memorably, the time that you spent a tipsy night in divulging the details of your quite active sex life and Jeonghan's bedroom preferences.

It was a reference to that conversation that brought on the thought that was now playing on repeat in your mind. You'd been at your friend's house, all of you laid out across the living room watching some reality tv show drama and sipping at your drinks when Mia turned to you.

"Ya know, I've been thinking about Jeonghan again. Ever since he grew out his hair, he just looks so soft and fluffy." She said with a giggle. You raised an eyebrow at her sudden statement.

"What exactly is it that you wanna know?" You asked, very used to reading into her offhanded statements. Poor attempts to segue into absolutely out of pocket conversations. Which, you had to admit, was part of what you loved about your friendships. Too much information was a difficult line to reach, and everyone was curious about everything. It kept things entertaining.

"What does Jeonghan like being called in bed?" She asked. You snorted out a laugh.

"I don't really call him anything unusual. Hannie, baby. Same stuff I always call him." You said with a shrug. You knew some people were into titles or certain petnames, but it had never come up between the two of you, and you hadn't ever given it much thought.

"Yeah, but is that what he prefers? He seems...freakier than that." She said. You curled your nose up and laughed.

"I mean, I never really asked."

"You know, you're kinda right. With the curls and stuff he kinda looks like he'd wanna be called mommy. Take care of his princess." Your other friend Aaliyah piped up. You bit back a cackle at the idea. But underneath it all, you had to admit that the idea stuck.

It stuck enough that weeks later you were still imagining what that would look like, how he'd react. Never enough to bring it up, though. That was just embarrassing, especially if he didn't like it. Or if he decided it was time to tease you about sharing the filthy details with your friends.

But the last thing on your mind now with his face buried in your pussy was asking him if you could call him something new in bed. You arched off the bed, hips grinding against the lapping of his tongue and the brush of his nose against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. You huffed out a moan, squirming under the intense squeeze of his fingers against your thighs.

You slid your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly at the curls and revelling to the feeling of his hummed laughter against your folds.

"Mommy, please," You whined, a tiny wail slipping out when he pulled away, looking up at you with your hands still laced through his hair and your wetness glistening around his mouth. He smirked, that dangerous sort of glint in his eye that made you squirm and flush warm with nervousness.

"What was that, baby?" He asked, fingers digging into your thighs a little tighter and making your breath hitch. Your mind went blank for a moment, desperately scrambling for the words you'd said but finding them just out of reach.

"Jeonghan," You pulled your hands from his hair to cover your face as you wiggled your hips at him, hoping to entice him into touching you again, the burning of your near orgasm fading into a dull, achy throb between your legs now without his touch.

"That's not what you said, princess. Try again." He said, sitting up now and wiping at his face. You made a frustrated noise, kicking your feet uselessly and only feeling more frustrated when he chuckled at your tantrum.

"I don't know what I said. Baby, please. Was so close, please." You pouted, reaching out for his hand to guide it back between your legs. He gave in, fingers teasing against your cunt, dipping in just a little before pulling back to run the full length of your folds.

"I think you know what you said. Wanna call me mommy?" He asked, and your eyes flew to his face, wide and searching for some sort of rejection. You hadn't even processed the slip up, but Jeonghan seemed entirely amused by it. "Just had to ask, you know I'd do anything for you. So tell me, is that what you want? Want mommy to take care of your needy pussy?"

You whimpered, hiding your face in your arms again and rolling your hips against his fingers. He landed a slap to your core and you jerked away from the touch only for his free hand to grab your thigh and drag you back into place.

"Asked you a fucking question. Better answer it if you want to cum at all tonight." He warned, tone dark and low in a way that you knew meant business. You nodded, peeking out from behind your arm.

"Yes please."

"Please, what?"

"Please fuck me, mommy. Need you to make me cum." You said, face so warm that it felt like you'd just combust right then and there. Jeonghan gave you an approving nod before sliding two of his long fingers inside of you, curling them to press against your gspot, rubbing at the rough patch and listening to the pathetic string of noises that it drew out of you.

"That's it, good girl. Take my fingers, cum on 'em okay? Maybe then mommy will let you cum on his cock. You want that, don't you? Want mommy to fuck you dumb over and over again?" He slid a third finger in, stretching you open and pistoning them against your most sensitive spot. You let out a choked moan, something akin to a sob. Your head nodded frantically as your hands searched for something to hold on to, eventually finding purchase on his bicep.

"Yes, please please please make me cum. I'm yours mommy, just wanna make you feel good. Wanna be so full of you. I need it, wanna be good." You were crying now, the rush of embarrassment at being caught in your little fantasy bringing you to the edge with an intensity that you weren't used to, and the way Jeonghan's mouth was running burned humiliation through you, sparks of pride and arousal flaring in your veins.

"Go on, princess. Cum for mommy." He ordered. And you couldn't deny him even if you'd wanted to, your walls clenching around his fingers and your cum dripping down his wrist as he continued milking you through the orgasm, leaning down to kiss over your shoulders and collarbone, murmuring sweet praise into your skin.

It felt like your orgasm lasted for several minutes, your vision swimming and your breath coming out shaky and desperate. Jeonghan smoothed his hand along your jaw, waiting patiently for you to come back down. When you blinked up at him with glossy eyes and tear streaked cheeks, he smiled fondly.

"Hey baby, welcome back. You were in lala land for a minute. How do you feel?" He asked, all of the intensity gone from his voice now. In place was the softest, sweetest tone of pure adoration. You hummed, stretching your legs out a little.

"Good. Really good." You mumbled, reaching out to grab his arm, just wanting to touch him.

"Good. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" He said. You pouted.

"You didn't cum yet." You said, not wanting to leave him hanging. He laughed.

"I'll live. That was more than enough for me. Could watch you cum like that forever." He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "So...Mommy, huh?"

You were never gonna live this one down.

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 1 year

Note

I think Meghan doesn't know who she is anymore. She's a jeans and a white shirt type of girl. She should have stuck to that and elevated it bit by bit, with the help of a stylist. Of course that would mean she would be capable of taking advice

She doesn’t listen to anyone. It’s amazing. The only reason her princess pr worked is because the tiara was on the line and she actually sucked it up and followed directions. Everything else has been an epic disaster.

But she’s still famous and we’re still talking about her and she still has enough juice in her tank for one last attempt at establishing herself. That’s the power of the royal mystique. It can elevate even someone like Meghan.

She’s a basic Cali girl in ripped jeans and white shorts following smoothie fads. That’s all she is. However, the SS and royal pr machines took her resume and created a mixed race pencil-skirted feminist princess image that was insanely compelling because it was based on the character she had played on cable for years. People wanted Royal Rachel Zane, the passionate mixed-race activist lawyer with the great love story. People wanted to wanted to believe in that, just like they wanted to believe Harry the Hero Prince was real.

But that’s not who they are and they can’t keep the illusion going. Without the royal pr machine they do minimal work for their causes/projects and instead they focus on family drama and endless media lawsuits. That’s who they really are-two bitter, angry people still obsessed with slights from decades ago.

It’s bizarre that now they are suing the very same press that created these very marketable personas for them. Maybe deep down they know they owe everything to the DM’s crappy articles. Maybe they know they can’t live up to the image that was built for them.

Sadly, that image is the only marketable asset they have. Meghan’s one chance to move forward is to use the Ms Foundation award to re-boost that image and land some kind of fluffy The View-like platform. She should put out a Mother’s Day essay on a feminist topic, announce a passion project during the awards ceremony, follow it up with related podcasts and interviews and then use the campaign season to build her activist cred and land a television gig she can use as a platform. Then she can grow that platform with a book and more documentaries.

But she’s not going to do it because she’s not an activist or a feminist. She’s going to leak lemon cake stories and go hiking with friends because that’s who she really is. I’m not even kidding about that. She has been doing roast chicken and hiking content since her Working Actress blog days.

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lovelybrooke · 9 months

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Could you write some headcanons for a yandere haru from persona 5? I love our fluffy hair axe wielder

Btw, I'm another yandere writer, and I love your stuff! :)

Yandere Haru x reader

I didn't know if you wanted romantic or platonic, so I tried to do both, hope you enjoyed.

Check out my other works here: Masterlist

---

Haru's yandere tendencies are very subtle, you'll never know exactly what she's thinking because she's always so bright and bubbly. It's a big reason why you'll never really notice her strange behavior. Even if you do, you don't have the heart to call her out on it.

Haru absolutely adores you, and she wholeheartedly believes you adore her too. While she's not exactly delusional, she's gaslights herself into believing any kind gesture is you trying to win her favor. In return for basic acts of curtesy, she's gifting you expensive jewelry, food, clothing, anything she thinks you'll possibly like. While I don't think her father was always terrible, I do believe she grew up with the idea that big/expensive gestures are the best ways to show someone you care, so expect to find gifts in your locker every other day.

I don't believe Haru is a stalker, she probably believes it's too extreme. However, this doesn't include online stalking. She'll watch all your social media pages, waiting for posts. This is mainly how she figures out which gifts you like, but she also figures out other things, like where you live. She never shows up unannounced, but if you're friends, she'll constantly ask to come over, not even asking where you live if you say yes.

Haru constantly talks about you to the other Phantom Thieves, it gets kind of annoying honestly. It's like she can't contain her adoration for you, she has to rant to someone. This is mostly Makoto, who doesn't have the heart to tell her she doesn't care, and Ann, who's actually really interested in the drama.

Regardless of if you're together romantically or platonically, Haru does get jealous. She never really acts on her jealousy however, but it doesn't prevent her from being passive aggressive when you hang out with someone else or show interest in something that isn't her. Haru's really good at making you feel bad, whether or not she does it intentionally you'll never know. What you do know, is that she's not afraid to pull out tears to make you look at her and only her.

On the topic of making you feel bad, as Haru's feelings develop, she realizes that it's really easy to manipulate you. She's so cute and kind, no one would believe you if she kidnapped you or hurt one of your friends. While those two would be last resorts, she's aware of the power she holds against you, and as she comes to terms with her feelings, she's not afraid to use it.

Haru might potentially use the metaverse against you. It's usually manipulating your shadow so that your feelings for her in the real-world change. She does this mostly because early on with in your relationship she feels bad for manipulating the real you. It's easier to just exploit a different version of you rather than the real-world version.

Haru definitely want's a future with you, again either platonically or romantically, it doesn't matter to her. She shows how she can provide for you, how you could live such an easy life if you just say with her. Money is just another way Haru controls/manipulates you. She always points out how poor you are compared to her, but you never really point it out because of her cute demeanor, she probably doesn't even mean it. If she comes over to your house, she'll mention how small it is and how better her home is, you should just move in with her.

Either way, Haru just loves you, and she wants to keep you safe. She knows first-hand how corrupt and terrible people can be. IF you just listen to her, follow her, love her, you'll never have to worry about anything any more.

---

A/n: I'm so happy you enjoy my work. Hope you like this!!!!

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #persona 5 x reader #yandere persona 5 #haru okumura #haru x reader

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tarisilmarwen · 2 months

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Sabezra Day 2024 - "Speak My Language"

Title: Speak My Language

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels, Ahsoka

Rating: K+

Pairing/Relationships: Ezra/Sabine

Character(s): Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios

Genre: Romance/Drama/Comfort/Fluff

Summary: All the little ways Ezra and Sabine tell each other "I love you."

AO3, FFNet

@sabezraweek

---

Physical Touch

For all his skittish avoidance of them, Sabine observed, there was a part of Ezra that seemed to crave touch.

She saw it in the way he gradually stopped flinching at Zeb's shoulder thumps, once he realized the gesture was affectionate, once he realized he wasn't being hit. She saw it more readily in the way he lit up whenever Kanan or Hera put a hand on his arm or shoulder, how light would practically beam out of him.

She even saw it in how he would pat Chopper's dome at odd moments—ostensibly to annoy the droid, who would slap him off and screech in binary and chase him around with his shock prod as Ezra ran away laughing, but aside from her and Hera no one else had dared to touch the cranky C1 unit with any kind of affection, and Sabine could only conclude that Ezra must, on some level, enjoy it. No matter how badly Chopper bullied him on the regular.

Sabine herself? Was not a particularly "huggy" person. She kept people at arm's length, both literally and figuratively, but understood the paradox of not wanting to let her walls and guard down and yet longing for intimacy and affection. She related to Ezra in that fashion. Sympathized with him.

She was looking for him now, actually. He was doing that thing where he would pretend he wanted to be alone to mope but he really wanted someone to keep him company and seek him out to comfort him—another painful similarity between them she understood. Today's Jedi lesson had not apparently gone well. There'd been some yelling. Kanan had walked into the living room where she'd been painting, radiating frustration.

Sabine had quietly put down her paints and gone out to check on Ezra.

She found him sitting curled up on a little hillock, staring out towards the waving grasses. His shoulders were hitched, and his bangs were falling into his face.

Sabine plastered on a smile and came to sit next to him.

"Rough day, I'm guessing?" she quipped lightly, as she plopped down.

He gave a noncommittal sound and a shrug, curling up tighter.

Heart panging, Sabine lifted a hand, then hesitated. She remembered a bit of holovideo from the disk she'd cleaned up for Ezra—just a fragment really, too corrupted to be any good-of Mira gently stroking Ezra's hair.

The blue-black strands shifted with the breeze now, fluttering around Ezra's head. It looked soft and fluffy and she found her hand drawing towards it.

Carefully, she let her fingers slide into his hair, tenderly combing up through the strands.

Ezra gasped softly, eyes widening, stiffening with a bit of shock.

Smiling more genuinely this time, Sabine used the hand in his hair to tug his head gently into her shoulder, again, like she'd seen Mira do in the brief holo clip.

Ezra melted, leaning into the touch with a kind of shuddering sigh.

Sabine let her fingers keep brushing through Ezra's hair, almost hugging him to her side as she played with the ends.

"Thanks," she heard him whisper, so quietly she almost missed it.

***

Gift Giving

After seeing how Sabine's eyes had popped with delight when he showed her the TIE fighter, Ezra had tried very hard to recreate that reaction.

And it turned out Sabine liked getting things.

It took a bit of experimentation to figure out what things, specifically, Sabine liked getting the most. Despite all that he'd managed to learn about girls from trashy holofilms and the drunken advice of his fellow homeless vagrants, Sabine wasn't particularly into flowers or jewelry. Sweets were slightly better, but Sabine had an allergic reaction once to a bit of kopa nut Ezra hadn't realized was in the chocolates he'd bought her and he'd avoided repeating that mistake since.

Art supplies were an obvious choice, but being in the Rebellion meant he was only slightly less broke than he'd been on the streets, so getting Sabine anything of actual quality, that suited her standards, took a bit of saving and scrimping.

It was so worth it, though, when he presented her with the fancy pastels kit she'd been eying in that Garel shop window for forever.

She gasped, almost snatching the box from him in her eagerness. Ezra watched her read and re-read the brand name across the front several times.

"Ezra..." she breathed, and Force how he loved when she said his name like that. Her eyes lifted, joy tugging at every corner and wrinkle of her face. "Is this—?" She couldn't even finish.

Ezra ducked his head, bashful, hiding a grin. He tried to play it cool, rubbing a hand behind his head. "I know you've been wanting them for a while and I had a little extra so..." he trailed.

Sabine flung arms around him, almost bowling him over. Her teal and blue hair was tickling in his face and Ezra forgot how to breathe for a moment as he tried not to freak out about the fact that Sabine was hugging him—hugging him—and ruin things by making it all weird.

She had finally gotten used to him, she let him in her room without turning him away at the door with a mumbled comment about wanting to be alone, she joked with him on missions now and even sometimes laughed at his bad jokes, he didn't want to spoil things by making this about his lingering crush on her.

He was just being nice to a friend. That was all.

He still liked how good she smelled as she pulled back out of the hug, though.

Sabine was grinning from ear to ear, mischievous twinkle in her amber eyes. "You realize I'm going to have to test these out right away?" she quipped, tone implying something conspiratorial.

"Guess I should make a point to steal another TIE fighter for you," he joked back.

She was shaking her head. "Pastels wouldn't stick to the titanium alloy, would be a wasted effort."

"Then it's a good thing I also swiped this," he said, producing a clean white Bike Trooper helmet and presenting it with a 'ta da!' gesture.

"Oh ho, you do know how to treat a girl," she laughed, reaching for the helmet and balancing it atop her box of pastels. "Well c'mon, who knows how long we've got before Zeb and Kanan get back." She tilted her head towards the hanger doors, through which the mostly-empty Ghost could be seen parked, and Ezra followed her eagerly, heart warming at the praise.

The two of them tramped up the ramp like quick shadows.

***

Words of Affirmation

"Sabine said I should wear the Scout Trooper armor more often, makes me look mature and grown-up," she heard Ezra bragging to Zeb from the hallway.

Her door was cracked open just a bit—for both ventilation and privacy—and Sabine heard his preening, and chuckled a bit at how annoyed Zeb sounded when he countered back, "Don't let it go to yer head, kid."

Ezra just laughed in response. Sabine knew he'd be riding the high from her compliment for days.

In fact, she should probably go fluff his ego a bit more, keep his spirits up. He was still bummed out about not getting Hera's kalikori back. Hera had dismissed the loss with relative ease but Ezra was taking it like some kind of personal failure.

He took everything so personally, now...

Shaking off that somber thought, Sabine picked up her cloth and wiped her paintbrush off, setting it down on her easel.

Pretending she hadn't just been eavesdropping she stood up from her stool and walked to the door, cracking it open a bit more and leaning on both edges of the frame.

"What are you giving him grief about this time, Zeb?" she said, teasing, grinning wide.

Zeb rolled his eyes, but Ezra turned towards her.

"I was just telling Zeb about how much you loved the Scout Trooper uniform," he said.

She shrugged. "Well, they say clothing makes the man, but I think it was the other way around this time. That armor definitely wouldn't have looked as good without you in it."

She might have struck him speechless with that one. Was he blushing? He looked dumbfounded and Sabine swore she saw his cheeks reddening.

He was adorable.

With a small cough she cleared her throat. "Hey, glad you made it out okay," she said, changing the subject. "I was really worried when I heard that you and Hera were captured."

He glanced away, eyes lowering. "Wasn't anything to worry about," he dismissed. "Just the usual kind of danger we get into."

"Still would have kicked myself if anything had happened to you," she argued, reaching across to grab a pinch of his sleeve, draw his eyes and attention back. "You mean a lot to me, all right? I care about you." Her eyes squeezed earnestly as she tried to make him understand. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Their gaze held a long moment, blue looking wonderingly into amber, as Ezra took her words in, something in the depths of his irises seeming to glow brighter.

"Err... should I give you two a moment?"

Both teens broke eye contact immediately at Zeb's awkward comment. Sabine brushed her bangs back, hiding her face, her own cheeks flushing now.

Ezra coughed heavily into his fist, very deliberately looking forward and not at her. "I'll uh, see you tomorrow then?" he said.

"Right," Sabine blurted, fleeing at once back into her room and sliding the door all the way closed.

She could still hear Zeb's voice, muffled behind the door, making teasing comments that Ezra replied to with inaudible muttering.

***

Acts of Service

Mandalorian history was full of heroes who performed great deeds. Feats of strength, of valor, of honor. Fulfilled oaths. Last stands.

They weren't all that different from Jedi, honestly. A life of service to others was a Jedi's calling and goal, requiring much of them, demanding the fullness of their dedication even to the point of ultimate sacrifice.

So this, his last great act, his wild ploy to upend the chessboard and sweep away the Seventh Fleet, leaving her his lightsaber as a token, might as well have been a blaring love letter to Sabine's Mandalorian sensibilities.

I love you, I love you, repeated sadly in his head, as her last words—begging him to get off the ship—echoed in his ears. I'm sorry. I have to do this.

She was going to be so angry at him. When she found him she would probably kick and scream and cry.

But he knew she'd understand. After all, she was a warrior herself. She would know the kind of personal sacrifice he was making, giving up everything he'd ever known and loved for the chance that she and everyone else could live free.

It was the kind of noble, larger-than-life task that defined so many Mandalorian epics.

Ezra steeled his jaw and held his head high, diving deeper into the Force as purrgil song filled his ears and hyperspace began stretching out white through the atmosphere. Thrawn cursed and spat but nothing could stop the young Jedi now.

He would do the task that only he could. Ezra Bridger, son of Lothal, Jedi apprentice...

...The boy who loved Sabine Wren.

***

Quality Time

She needed to be next to him like she needed to breathe.

Sabine still couldn't believe it, that she finally had her lost Jedi back, that he was alive and real and whole and he wouldn't leave her side.

They had barely spent a moment apart since she and Ahsoka had rescued him from Peridea.

The journey home had been full of drinks and laughter, so many drinks and laughing so hard her sides hurt. The ship lights spun and twinkled in their eyes and when they finally retired for the night she just latched onto his wrist and pulled him onto the blankets on the floor.

They were out almost immediately, tangled up in each other, but woke up sometime in the wee early hours and just whispered more stories to each other, getting caught up, telling each other everything that had happened in the gap between then and now.

Sabine curled a hand around his, marveling at the strength in the rough brown fingers. Stars how she'd missed this! Just sitting and talking, being in each other's company. It made her think of movie nights and sleepovers in the living room on the Ghost, talking long walks around the perimeter of Chopper Base, sparring in the cargo bay, that one night they'd stayed up watching a meteor shower on a blanket just like this.

"What is it?" he asked her, noticing she'd gone quiet.

She sighed happily, bringing his hand up to kiss the back softly.

"Just happy we're together again," she told him. The empty space left unoccupied, where he should have been all these years, was full again. "I missed this," she said aloud.

"Missed you," he whispered, leaning in for a stolen kiss against her cheek, beard tickling her skin.

She giggled, happy tears threatening at her eyes. "Stay with me a little longer?" she begged.

"Of course," he assured her.

It was a long trip home, but she got to spend it with the man she loved.

Nothing else could have made her more content.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ahsoka show #ezra bridger #sabezra #fanfiction #sabezraday2024 #prompt fics

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