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#very slowly I'm getting the hang of drawing him

cottonlemonade · 2 days

Text

How You Met

word count: 1111 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Sugawara x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

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You cradled the stack of books in your arms as you looked through the large shop window onto the street outside. It had started to rain and people hastened by the unassuming storefront with umbrellas or their bags raised above their heads. It wouldn‘t be long before the foot traffic would die down completely, you thought. Although, in your opinion, there was no better place to escape to during a rainy afternoon than a secondhand bookstore. Grabbing your handy dandy footstool you made your way to a section near the back to sort away the volumes people had left lying around.

As you moved some paperbacks to the right to make more space, the battered little brass bell hanging above the entrance chimed.

“Good afternoon!“, you called out. Putting on your most inviting customer service smile you looked around the shelf to greet the new patron but all you saw was a swoosh of a little rain-damp jacket disappearing into the manga section. Shrugging your shoulders you went back to sorting, enjoying the comfortable silence of the shop and the soft sounds of the radio playing in the back.

However, after about a minute or so when you were just contemplating going to ask if you could help, you heard a quiet sob. You looked around again, thinking maybe you just imagined it, but kept your ears perked. Another suppressed sound made you climb down your footstool.

Behind the very last bookshelf sat a little boy, maybe six or seven years old, curled up to a ball, crying into his folded arms.

You approached him carefully.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The boy lifted his head a bit. His big dark eyes were filled with tears, his lips puffy and red as if he had bitten them to muffle any sounds. He hiccuped.

Your expression softened. He reminded you of your little brother. He had the same scrunch in the nose, when he was sad.

"Can I get you anything?", you asked gently, offering a kind smile.

He shook his head and hid his face in his arms again, trembling from a new wave of sobs.

You got down on your knees and rummaged in your pocket for a tissue. You were so focused to not frighten him that you didn't notice another ring from the bell above the door.

"Here.", you held out a tissue to the boy and he took it hesitantly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Again, a tiny shake of the head. You thought for a moment, then nodded to yourself as you shuffled a little closer to him. What would your brother need in this situation?

"Would you like a hug?", you asked.

The crying boy eyed you with uncertainty at first, wiping his tears on his sleeve. But your chubby figure paired with the rather motherly look in your eyes probably put him at ease because in the next moment he held out his short arms.

You embraced him at once, one hand on the back of his head, and one drawing soothing circles over his damp jacket.

The warmth of your hug made him break down even more. He cried into your shoulder and you held him, now slowly swaying back and forth like you did whenever your baby brother was upset.

"It's gonna be fine.", you said calmly, holding him tighter.

You sat like this for a couple of moments until finally his breathing became calmer, steadier.

"Would you like another tissue?" you asked eventually.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. You looked around in your pockets again. "Shoot, wait, I think I still have some behind the counter."

But before you got up an outstretched hand, holding a tissue appeared next to you. You jumped a little and looked up to a rain soaked guy, a little older than you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

The crying boy took the offered tissue.

"You alright, Yusu-chan?", the newcomer asked, concerned.

You moved protectively in front of the child in case this guy, sweet as he may look, was who the boy ran away from.

But “Yusu-chan”, still in your arms, nodded and sniffled, “Yes, sensei.”

The young man held his hand out to you to help you up.

"Thank you.", he said in a quiet, relieved voice, so that the boy couldn't hear, "I've been looking everywhere for him."

"No problem.", you replied, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You’ve already done more than enough, thank you very much." He bent down to pick up the boy, who immediately nuzzled into his neck.

You blushed under his genuine smile.

"I'm Koushi."

"Y/n."

"Yusuke.", said the little boy, composing himself and turning to you, his arms still around Koushi‘s neck, "I'm really sorry for crying on your shirt, miss."

You chuckled, "Oh, don't worry about it. Are you feeling a bit better now?" You reached out to pat his head and he leaned into the touch like a puppy might.

"A lot." He gave you a wide smile, exposing two missing front teeth. It would have looked sweet if the puffy eyes and red nose didn't break your heart.

For a moment the three of you just stood there a little awkwardly. "We should get going.'', Koushi said, using his free hand to ruffle his wet gray hair and considering you thoughtfully.

You nodded. Yusuke just looked back and forth between the two adults, confused.

"Well then... have a nice evening."

And so they left. You sighed when the jingle of the bell died down after the door had closed.

Staring absentmindedly after them for a few heartbeats you absurdly wondered if you‘d see them again, before shaking your head and going back to work.

A few moments later the doorbell chimed again.

"Good afternoon!", you called diligently, "I'll be right with you."

You slid the little stack of books in your arms in place and went to the front. Koushi stood by the register, nervously playing with his fingers.

"Hello again.", you smiled, your heart fluttering in hopeful excitement, "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, actually... I was ... I was wondering if you would like to grab some coffee, maybe."

Your stomach pulled a little. "Sure, my shift ends in 2 hours."

"Great, I'll pick you up."

You both smiled at each other unsure of what to do next.

"Okay then. See you in two hours."

He turned around to leave and walked right into the door.

You winced in sympathy as he rubbed his forehead.

"That's a pull."

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#sugawara x chubby reader #sugawara koushi x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #sugawara x reader #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara kōshi #hq sugawara #sugawara koushi #sugawara fluff

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

I want to kiss you — キスしたい

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

NOTE : there's more parts planned for this, i just wanted to get at least this continuation out ✌️ it's maybe gonna be a bit of a slowburn thing, bc personally i love anticipating the buildup of two characters kissing. and also ugh i have such cute ideas in the drafts for this! like you and him using a magnetic drawing board to write down things that you take turns deciphering. and him writing a whole diary of his thoughts that he wishes he could voice to you, that he gives to you when you're leaving at the end of your visit 🥺 anyways!! lmk if you want to be tagged for any continuations pwease i'd value ur engagement very much !!

SUMMARY — you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

WARNINGS — slight underlying romantic tension between you and Suguru sooo potential love triangle?! one bed trope (you + Satoru), ik google translate is inaccurate but 🤷‍♀️ oh well

WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.6k

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

A continuation of this post

Satoru's never really been in love before.

Sure, in high school he experienced crushes and a handful of dates. But the crushes were shallow and short-lived, and the dates were lousy and forgettable.

But you? Well it's funny, see, you live on a whole different continent and can't speak his language, and yet to him you're as unforgettable as the scent of spring.

His feelings for you seep into his skin slowly, beautifully; and yet he can't express a single one to you because he too can't speak your language.

During late-night video calls, Suguru tries to bridge the gap between you and his best friend. And in your group chat, both Shoko and Suguru combine their skills to help you and Satoru understand each other. They do it because they see how badly the both of you want to know more about each other; especially Satoru.

Satoru has never been so infatuated before; never quite so curious and unashamedly intrigued with someone else. You're all he thinks about day and night.

When you speak, he desperately strains his ears. When you text, he consults the dreaded Google translate. And he's always nagging Suguru to translate everything, because he wants to know your every thought and expression.

Around a year and a half after meeting you, Satoru realizes something when he's lazing in his bed with his fluffy white cat curled up on his stomach as it rises and falls with his gentle breathing.

He likes you.

On call, when you giggle at the cat's fluffy tail blocking the webcam, Satoru thinks;

あなたの笑いが大好きです I love your laugh.

When talking about you with Suguru, he receives a little teasing smirk from him.

あなたは彼女が好きですよね？ You like her, huh?

During lonely nights, he scrolls through your socials and stares longingly at photos of you, ones where you're hanging out with your real-life friends or family.

とても羨ましいです。私も彼女に近づきたいです。 I'm so jealous. I want to be close to her, too.

Listening to you attempt to speak Japanese on a call while him and Suguru are on a walk around Tokyo, he thinks;

私の言語であなたの声を聞くのが大好きです。 I love hearing your voice in my language.

Any photo of your face that you personally sent him, he looks at with heart eyes and saves immediately.

キスしたい。 I want to kiss you.

He'd be lying if he said he never pressed his lips to his screen and closed his eyes, pretending he was kissing you.

Satoru thinks poetically about you. He pens down these elaborative thoughts into his diary that he plans to give you one day. Maybe then you can get an idea of how deeply he thinks about you.

But even if he could speak English fluently, or you could speak Japanese fluently, he's sure neither language could be descriptive enough when it comes to his feelings for you.

He tries so hard to learn some phrases in anticipation of your upcoming visit, but all he can say when he meets you for the first time at Haneda airport is;

"Hi."

And he waves cutely.

"Hi!" you giggle, waving back.

And all at once, there's a bunch of thoughts buzzing in his head. He's looking at you like he's captivated. Even if he knew any solid English, he's sure he'd be speechless anyways.

実物の彼女はもっと美しい、信じられない。 She's even more beautiful in real life, I can't believe it.

彼女が何を言っているのか全く分かりませんが、いい感じですね。耳元で聞く彼女の声だけが私が望んでいたものです。 I have no idea what she's saying, but it sounds good. Her voice in my ear is all I wanted.

なぜ彼女は私ではなくスグルを抱きしめたのでしょうか？その瞬間は混乱の渦だったのでしょうか、それとも彼女は私を抱きしめたくなかったのでしょうか？ Why did she hug Suguru instead of me? Was that moment a whirlwind of confusion, or did she just not want to hug me?

When you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, the boys wait for you in their seats at the little airport cafe. The neon sign glows yellow above, plants hang from the ceiling; it's a busy place.

They're talking about you over their beverages.

Satoru groans dramatically, throwing his head back, fluffy hair flopping cutely.

"Oh Satoru," Suguru chuckles, "What's the matter? Why the groan?"

"I want to hug her."

Suguru's heart melts. "Then hug her. She doesn't bite. I think she wants to hug you, too."

"But then why didn't she hug me like she hugged you earlier? Maybe I don't seem huggable to her..."

"It was a rushed moment, she had just arrived you know? Don't overthink. Satoru, just hug her."

Satoru lets out a long, stifled noise that's a mix between a groan and a sigh. He tilts his whole body back, balancing precariously on the plastic chair. Rubbing his eyes until he sees some phosphenes, a habit he did when he was nervous. Suguru notices.

"Are you nervous?" Suguru asks tenderly.

"Really nervous. She's prettier in real life. I don't know what to do with myself." he admits quietly.

"Yeah, she is, haha. Oh, there she's coming back now — や!"

"や!" you returned, giggling.

That was Suguru's 'thing'. It's cuter in real life, seeing how his eyes curve up into a smile when he says it. There are details on his face that you didn't notice through the screen; he has an attractive trio of moles on his lower cheek, and when he smiles the left side of his lips curls up more to reveal some of his upper gum.

Satoru's heart beats a little harder when you sit closer to him. He's thinking;

Yay, 彼女は私の隣に座っています。 She is sitting next to me.

"Suguru, ask her if we're taller than she expected." Satoru asks suddenly. You just hear his voice next to you and it gives you tingles — there was a quality to his voice that only revealed itself in real life. An endearing voice crack accompanies the middle of his sentence.

"Satoru asks if we're taller than you expected." Suguru asks you, habitually resting his chin on the palm of his hand while taking a long sip on his iced tea.

"Yeah! Actually, I was surprised, because I thought you and Satoru were the same height, but Satoru is very slightly taller... " you say.

Satoru is listening curiously, waiting expectantly for Suguru's translation. And then it comes, and Satoru smirks at you.

"Yes." he nods, "(Suguru, how do I say I'm taller?) — I'm taller."

You let out a short and sweet ha-hah that makes even Suguru's heart feel a little something.

Each time you laugh, Satoru's thinking;

私はあなたの笑いが本当に大好きです。。。 I really love your laugh.

You three leave the airport for your hotel, so you can check in. It's almost midnight, your plane landed late. Though he thought he'd be tired, considering he's not a night owl like his best friend, Satoru is energetically striding next to you, teasing you and laughing with you and throwing hand gestures to try and communicate better. Suguru's fondly eyeing the two of you out, admiring how your chemistry comes to life so beautifully — this is what his best friend wished about for so long; to be at your side. Now he's getting to truly enjoy your company. The dreamy-eyed exchanges between you and Satoru make Suguru think that the two of you ought to be in a novel one day, with how pure and wholesome your story is unfolding right now.

Though, he can pick up on Satoru's frustrated stuttering when he fails to communicate with you. Suguru doesn't mind being the translator, nor does he mind bridging the gap between the two of you; Satoru's nagging can never bother him.

They help you out when you're checking into reception at the hotel, but then suddenly...

"... oh, that's not good. He said your reservation got cancelled." Suguru tells you.

"What!" you panic, "Why?"

Suguru inquires further for you, and finds out that it's because of overbooking.

So you groan, the three of you walking out of the hotel lobby, standing in the glow of the light coming through its glass doors. Satoru silently offers to take care of your suitcase, attentively noticing how tired you'd become from pulling it around.

"Thank you..." you tell him.

"Mm." he nods.

Suguru is quick to offer that you stay at their apartment. "... if you're comfortable with it. Just for the night, until you can find another booking elsewhere. Or if you want to stay by us for the whole month, that's okay too — just mind the cat."

"Suguru... thank you. I'm sorry to be intrusive."

"You're not being intrusive, don't worry. And anyways, I think Satoru will be excited to know that you're staying with us. He was bummed out when he learned that you were gonna stay at this hotel, since it's a bit far from our apartment."

Satoru looks at the two of you curiously after he hears his name mentioned.

"She's staying with us." Suguru tells him. You quietly appreciate his voice, and how soft it becomes when he speaks to Satoru.

"Yay!" Satoru says with a very cute thumbs up. You can hardly believe that this man is older than you.

"Tell him he's cute." you request to Suguru.

"Tell him yourself." he teases.

"No! That's embarrassing! Ah, never mind."

Satoru already knows what you said, though, his ears picked up on that he's cute and your words repeat in his head like his favorite song while the three of you walk the streets at night. He feels dreamy.

There is something indescribably welcoming about Japan that you realize while heading across the street, looking at the faces passing by. It's clean. The lights glow warm and bright. The buildings stand tall, but not intimidatingly so. When you pass by chattering people, you wish you knew what was being said.

The three of you have to take the train to get to their apartment. While boarding it, a cute little exchange happens between you and Satoru that you can't quite explain, but it makes the two of you laugh shyly and look away.

Now squished into a seat at the very edge, another cute little exchange happens between you and him. Satoru is talking up at Suguru, who opted for holding onto the train handles after giving up his seat for an older woman.

Satoru uses lots of hand gestures even when speaking Japanese, his big hands fly around, dramatizing whatever he's saying — and then he accidentally flattens his palm right on top of the back of your hand.

Satoru's quick to remove his hand and giggle it off, but Suguru is even quicker to let out a teasing "ooh, cute" when it happens, so the two of you get completely flustered.

Satoru's heart thumps and throbs for the whole train ride. You swear you can feel a tension between your hands as they rest palms-flat on the seats, less than an inch away; you can feel his warmth, and he can feel yours.

But then the train ride is over, and before you know it Suguru's thumbing his key into the lock of the apartment door. It rattles, the door opens, and the automatic light comes on in the genkan.

"Just a sec — gonna see where Mint is. Make yourself at home." Suguru tells you quickly, voice shaking as he shimmies out of his shoes, and then he disappears down the hall to find the mentioned cat.

Satoru hears the name 'Mint' and gets the idea of what Suguru said based on that.

He nimbly unlaces his Converse, and leans down to neatly tuck them into the corner of the genkan, purposefully next to your shoes.

Then he straightens his body out, and you two have a small comedic exchange as you both notice the height difference between you and him.

"Uh..." he looks down at you. "Water?" he asks after thinking for a moment.

Your heart lurches at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, please."

"Mhm." he hums self-consciously.

He wonders if his accent sounds weird to you. Suguru's reassured him plenty times in the past that it sounds cute and oddly British, but he doesn't really believe that.

Satoru leads the way into the kitchen, clicking the lights on as he goes. And you follow. Such a simple moment makes him feel fluttery.

And then you drink some water with him in the tiny, cramped kitchen that's much too small to accommodate two people. You wonder how Suguru and Satoru can stand in it at the same time if even you and Satoru can't manage it without bumping elbows. He chuckles apologetically.

Ah, the kitchen scene. What a movie scene it is between the two of you.

"Uhhh..." he seems to be skimming his mind for any piece of English vocabulary, getting nervous as you blink at him, waiting for him to speak.

He holds up one finger, then pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He's a very simple, yet stylish dresser; jeans and a white shirt that's much too big for him. He is truly so opposite to his best friend's fashion that it makes you smile to yourself. Suguru's quite showy with his style, and you can tell he puts a lot of effort into his hairbun, too. But Satoru? Messy hair, in fact so messy that it looks like bed hair even though he did especially brush it and style it for you.

"Okay..." Satoru mumbles, typing things into his phone. Then he gives it to you, and you look at the screen.

飛行は乱気流でしたか？ Was the flight turbulent?

You type your response. He watches you. And oh how he watches you — he looks lovestruck. His eyes are full of wonder. His mind reads like poetry.

He reads your reply when you hand him back his phone.

It was. I realized that I hate airplanes. そうでした。私は飛行機が嫌いだということに気づきました。

He nods. "Scary."

"Yeah." you nod too.

Satoru hesitates.

He's still bitter that Suguru got a hug and he didn't; it's on his mind. He just wants to ask you, but a deep-rooted shyness holds him back.

That is, until you look up at him.

あなたは私を見上げようとしてとても頑張っています。かわいい。 You're trying so hard to look up at me. Cute.

His whole body buzzes with the desire to hug you. He's had dreams of meeting you in person, of hugging you, of kissing you.

The two of you feel your bodies naturally pull together, as if subconsciously desiring to embrace, so it just happens. It just happens.

And you hug and he thinks to himself;

これは私が今まで経験した中で最高の瞬間です。 This is the best moment I've ever experienced.

You can feel his heartbeat and he can feel yours. For a moment, the world around you becomes a dream; and you and Satoru are the only things that truly exist. Everything in the world except your love seems fake, unreal.

You hear him swallow like he's choking up. Then he sniffles a bit.

��かないで。泣かないで。 Don't cry. Don't cry.

くそー、泣いちゃうよ。彼女はとても柔らかいです Damn, I'm gonna cry. She's so soft.

And you break away to laugh sympathetically, he feels a bit embarrassed.

He's crying so softly that it makes your heart lurch.

Your bodies aren't separate for long, because he dives right back in for another hug in an attempt to quench the thirst from deep within his desirous soul. This time he squeezes tighter; you can feel the tones of his torso and the firmness of his bicep muscles as they press against your sides.

He sniffles again, the sound makes your heart lurch again.

あなたに言いたいことがたくさんあるのですが、どうやって伝えればいいのか分かりません。 There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know how.

でも、このハグで私の感情を感じていただければ幸いです。 But, I hope you can feel my emotions in this hug.

And you can; that's how closely connected the two of you feel in that moment. You can feel the emotions radiating from him, permeating throughout the air and seeping into your skin.

You can feel that he likes you. And he can feel that you like him back. It's fascinating to you, because before him you've always been saying I love you and I like you and will you date me? to people, or been on the receiving end of those phrases. But those words are unnecessary for you and Satoru. In fact, they're futile.

If he would say I love you, it would just be an accessory to his already evident love.

Then a sudden embarrassment pries the two of you apart, and you both start giggling to cope with it.

"Sorry... a bit much?" he mutters, half-sure of what he's saying.

"No, not enough." you tell him. He kinda understands what you meant, and feels fluttery. His nose is reddened from crying. He quickly pats his tears off with the base of his hand.

It's like your bodies hate being apart now, you and him can tell by each other's body language. Now at least that's one language both of you became fluent in, despite only being in each other's company for a few hours.

He looks at you. And you flick your brows up and make a funny face, as if to ask him what he's looking at. And he looks away with a bashful laugh, as if to apologize.

The romantic tension is so thick in the air between you two that when Suguru comes back, he feels it hit him like a wave.

おお。さっきまで彼女と一緒にいたとき、世界の存在を忘れていた。 Oh. When I was with her just a moment ago, I forgot the existence of the world.

"That cat is a menace. A menace." Suguru complains.

"What happened?" you ask.

" 'Got scratched." he holds up his hand, showing off the Hello Kitty adhesive across his knuckles. "Anyways, It's late. Are you tired? Satoru's gonna sleep with me, and you can have his room. Unless you want my room. I dunno. You can choose."

"Ooh... I haven't seen your room now that I think about it, except for that one video of you two pillow fighting."

Satoru's already starting to feel a small bit of jealousy and frustration, because he has no idea what you two are talking about.

Suguru's quick to notice this, and translates with a quick tongue.

"Tell her my bed's comfier than yours." Satoru says smirkingly.

"Wow, rude — Satoru says my bed is comfier than his." Suguru lies, refraining from laughing at his own mischievousness.

"Ah, I don't care, I'll be grateful for any bed... ah, actually can I use the bathroom to freshen up a bit?"

"Like I said, make yourself at home."

"Thanks..." you smile.

So Suguru leads the way to the bathroom for you, and you lock yourself in there to freshen up for a while. You sniff your shirt and smile — you smell Satoru's subtle scent on it.

The boys are fussing over the bed situation.

"Don't we have an extra futon stuffed away somewhere, the one Shoko left here?" Satoru thinks out loud.

"Ohhh, you're right." Suguru nods, looking for it.

"Anyways you embarrassed me!" Satoru pouts.

"Haha, did I?" Suguru pulls out the futon from the tippy-top shelf.

"Yeah, earlier you showed off how good you can speak English." Satoru grumbles.

They're softly grunting as they ruffle blankets and pillows.

"Oh, I guess I did. Sorry." he admits, "gosh, maybe if you would have learned a little something in preparation for her visiting then — "

"I did learn stuff! I learned... how to write." Satoru interrupts defensively.

"But why didn't you learn some common phrases?"

"I don't like my accent when I speak, alright." Satoru admits, huffing as he dives into the bed, ruining the artful neatness that Suguru just put so much effort into creating

"Okay, fair enough — oh my god, why would you do that, are you twelve? Oh hey, Y/n." Suguru smiles. "Satoru ruined your bed."

"Oh — two futons? Am I sharing with you or Satoru?"

Satoru rears his head at you from the pillow, looking very cat-like right then with his fluffy white hair. You can tell he's struggling to stay awake as the hour pushes onto two in the morning. He hasn't stayed up this late since he had a video game addiction and played all night with Suguru. Keeping his eyes open was a grand feat.

"No, you get to have two futons." Suguru teases, "Princess treatment."

"Haha, shut up. Be serious."

"Well, you can share with whoever you want or Satoru and I can sleep here together. Whatever you're more comfortable with."

"Didn't you once complain that you hate sharing beds with people?" you giggle.

"Mmm, yeah, but I don't mind if it's with you. Satoru's a cuddler. He also kicks in his sleep."

"That's so cute — well, let's ask — ... hey, I think Satoru fell asleep. Satoru?"

And surely enough, Satoru is asleep; he fell asleep to the sound of your voice without meaning to.

"He's not used to staying awake this late." Suguru tells you, softening his voice so he doesn't wake the cat Satoru.

"That's so sweet. He's really so sweet." you tilt your head admiringly.

You and Suguru are just alone there together, gushing over how cute Satoru looks when he has his cheek squishing into a pillow and his lips pouty and puffy in that sleep-like manner.

A long, nice silence settles in the room. You admit to Suguru that you're feeling a bit too wired to sleep just yet.

"I can stay up with you."

"No, it's okay. You look tired, you should sleep."

"I just always look tired. The night is early, anyways. I usually brood until four in the morning, you know me."

You smile at him, and he has to look away before he swoons. There's a small tension between the two of you, but the both of you force yourselves to ignore it.

The two of you assume a comfortable position on the futons, chatting as if you're not emotional about the fact there's no screen separating the two of you.

"Satoru's never been an insomniac, but in the week leading up to your arrival, he couldn't sleep at all. We'd stand in the kitchen together at midnight, talking about all the things we planned to do when you got here. I've never seen him so excited in a long time... it's really heartwarming to see."

"Really?" you blink at Suguru. He side-eyes you for a prolonged moment, then looks at Satoru who continues to sleep indisturbedly.

"Yeah. You know, he's such an idiot, actually. Because I told him to learn some phrases and instead he learned how to write English."

"That's a start! I mean, look at me, I can barely say a damn thing..." you mutter with lighthearted shame.

"Maybe that doesn't matter at all... I mean, with the kind of chemistry you and Satoru share, there's not much need for words." Suguru says.

You feel your face warm up a bit when he says that. "What do you mean?"

He wiggles his brows. "Oh come on, you know what I mean. I could feeeeel the tension in the kitchen earlier."

"Huh!"

He smirks and begins to tease, "I've never seen two people flirt so much and yet use no words."

You chuckle shyly. "Really...?" you look fondly at Satoru, who's become more curled up by now, face half-hidden under the blanket.

There's a long silence. You're looking at Satoru. Suguru's looking at you as if spellbound. And then he snaps out of it, and reanimates himself.

"Anyways... we should probably get some good sleep if we wanna drag you around on a tour tomorrow. I want your first impression of my home to be how good the food tastes here."

"Ooh, a food tour around Tokyo? Sounds nice. Won't it be too hot tomorrow, though?"

"It'll be fine." he says surely, "Anyways, are you sure you'll sleep here with Satoru? Like I said, he's a cuddler. He will cuddle you in your sleep."

"It's okay. I don't mind." You giggle.

"M'kay, goodnight then."

"Mhm, see you tomorrow." you say, standing with Suguru.

"Wow." he suddenly exclaims when he looks at you.

"Hm?"

Suguru stops on his way out the door, he seems taken aback. "I can't believe you're actually right here. I'm so used to pressing a red button and you vanishing from my screen." he laughs in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm still a bit in disbelief, too. I feel like I'm in a dream and not standing right in front of you."

Suguru smirks. "Mm... well."

He leans down to hug you, pressing your smaller body against his chest with a lovingness that you never envisioned he would possess.

"Have you ever tried to hug someone in a dream? It's pretty difficult." he jokes.

"N-no, haha." you chuckle nervously against his neck. He feels your laughter on his skin, and pulls away before he lets that tingly feeling spread across his chest.

"Goodnight." he murmurs.

"Goodnight." you mumble back.

You're glad when he disappears into his own room, because you felt like you were melting in his alluring presence. A boy as sultry as that requires you to take a breather.

Satoru draws your attention by letting out a sigh in his sleep. You head into the bed.

Though there's a distance between you two, somehow it closes, and Satoru rolls right over onto your futon.

Oh, he is indeed a cuddler, you think. You feel a warm arm suddenly hugging your waist as Satoru changes position, and you hear sleepy lip smacks; his face is very close. You can feel his sweet, warm breath on your face.

There's a comforting, human intimacy about sharing a bed with him. He's so gentle when he sleeps. His hair falls over his eyes, his lashes shudder as his eyes do that sleepy twitching thing.

He looks angelic.

You wonder what dreams he's having. And well, actually he's having dreams of kissing you. How coincidental that you were staring blinkingly at his pouty lips, wondering just how long it will take for the both of you to just — just kiss.

Roaming his features in the dark, you find aspects of his beauty that you never saw before through the screen. He's got a tiny scar above his eyebrow, that must be the one Suguru told you about — the one he got as a child when he fell out of a tree. You remember making a joke "but I thought cats always land on their feet?" and when Suguru translated that, Satoru laughed.

There's slight freckling under his eyes, and slight indents of eyebags stemming from the inner corner of his eye.

And yes, how could you not admire those lashes. They were more beautiful in person. You could count each one if you wanted to, that's how closely he slept to you.

Listening to his soft breaths nearly lulls you to sleep, but then he suddenly cuddles closer and whines in his dream.

Oh, that's close close, you think.

His torso is pressing completely against your side, his body melting into yours like it was made for you. Two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.

His leg comes over yours, and his muscular thigh nestles between your two thighs. It makes you aware of just how attractively long his legs are.

He completely entrapped you with his sleepy embrace.

The warmth of his gentle breathing tickles your cheek, and the tip of his nose slightly dents into your skin. Now that's when you fall asleep. When he's completely melted against you, snuggled up like a cat.

He stirs awake after a few hours of heavy sleep, and for a split second in that groggy wakeful mind fog, for some reason he thinks he's laying next to his wife. So he squeezes you tenderly and cuddles more affectionately.

Oops, he thinks, and pulls away a little out of embarrassment. But once he falls back into dream land, his body subconsciously goes right back in for those sleepy cuddles.

Now the morning dawns over, and you wake up to two bleary, blinking blue eyes right up close to your face...

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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trashogram · 3 months

Text

He Chose You (P. 5)

Lucifer/Reader — Lucifer wants you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for the smut. FINALLY

(Hope none of y’all were planning to actually get off though).

“You want a… baby?”

Lucifer looked as stunned as you felt. He reminded you of a spooked deer — frozen and wide-eyed as he waited for imminent death. Or more aptly a dying fish as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

“… To hang out with?”

Lucifer found himself in your apartment for the second time, milling about beside your coffee table. He internally scolded himself for fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other, but it was either that or burn a hole in your head with his hopeful gaze.

“No!” He let out a pathetic laugh. “Well, yes, b-but obviously not just that! I know there’s more to it than just ‘hanging out’.”

“I'm not stupid.” He chortled again before glancing at you. “… I’m not that stupid.”

The King had the uneasy feeling that you might see right through him now; find that inkling of excitement still germinating in his breast, and change your mind. Or worse, you’d withdraw even more and he’d have to feel that dreadful, terrible, no good shame.

He had practically skipped through the halls of his castle (unbeknownst to you) with the contract held tightly between his claws. But as soon as he entered your fireplace, the excitement had curdled like milk. It was replaced by that shame when he looked at you and saw your ashen face.

“Obviously you wouldn’t be doing this for free!” Lucifer gesticulated wildly. “You, you said you wanted to travel right? Right! If you agree, you’d get to travel wherever you want, whenever you want, no strings attached!”

“A-and also! No more costs, period! All your bills and expenses paid forever, in perpetuity, beyond the grave! Capitalism is a bitch? No, capitalism WAS a bitch!”

“No, no! Capitalism will be YOUR BITCH!”

Your resigned countenance combined with the memory of his pitch made Lucifer flinch.

——

You were never very good in a crisis. Or under a severe amount of pressure… or a moderate amount, in all sincerity.

But you’d have thought, even with the prospect of homelessness looming over your head, that you’d have drawn the line at making a Deal with the Devil to avoid it.

Or at least you would’ve taken more than the time it took to draw up a legal contract to accept your fate.

That time maxed out to 6 days.

The scroll unfurled before you. It radiated an ethereal golden light, and lined with a litany of official statements occasionally broken up by blank spaces meant for a (second) signature.

Lucifer Morningstar was signed here and there, in the same glittery calligraphy as was on his business card.

‘This contract must be interpreted by the Governances of Heaven [Heofon, Himmel, Kem, ἄκμων, آسمان, अश्मन्] and any litigations associated with Hell [Hel, Hallju, Kel]…’

‘… By this contract, Party A agrees to carry the Seed of Party B, hereafter known as “Father”, to the extent of natural gestation as governed by the Law of Nature…’

‘… This union shall be recognized only within the parameters listed and not heretofore or after…’

The legal jargon was giving you a headache. You scrubbed a hand down your face, determined to at least read through it all and, if you couldn’t pick out tiny discrepancies, at least find any giant red flags.

(Even if you’d already reserved the excuse that it was easy to be tricked by the Devil when the Devil was insanely good at presenting himself as a theatrical little man who wore his heart on his suit sleeve).

Then again, would it not just be easier to sign away your life without regard to the consequences?

Lucifer twitched when you groaned on your seat at the table. “Problem?”

You rose slowly from your hunched position to make eye contact. “… My pen isn’t working.”

You demonstrated by scribbling randomly on the sticky notepad beside his scroll. Lucifer responded instantly, left hand flexing in the air and, with a flashy poof, snatching a fancy pen out of thin air.

“You can keep it” He said, grinning as you accepted it with a sour look.

“Thanks… show-off.” You began scribbling your name in half-assed cursive on every blank line in sight.

The grin on Lucifer’s face became borderline manic as soon as you’d crossed your ‘t’s and dotted your ‘i’s. His teeth glinted in the light from your cheap-ass lamp and it made you wince as you handed the rolled up document back to him.

“Um, can we maybe skip the kissing stuff?” You asked. “I don’t really want to cut my tongue open.”

His wounded expression tugged rather annoyingly at your heart.

“Sorry.”

The smile he gave your mumbled apology was strained at best. “No, no I understand. The fangs were daunting to me when I first got them, too.”

You cocked your head, thoughts materializing like the web of a spider.

“That’s actually something we should talk about.” You voiced your thoughts. “Are we compatible? Down there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean — you don’t have teeth down there, too… right?” You asked. “Or some kind of eldritch horror miasma that I can’t touch lest I fall into a coma from ecstasy? Or a tentacle?”

“No!” Lucifer looked mortified. “Wh-what is wrong with you humans?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m just asking!” You cried.

You continued when his expression stayed stagnant. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you but I’m about to become intimately acquainted with… it, and I think I should be prepared!”

Your hellish companion stood, eyes closed, hands folded over his mouth as if in prayer. He breathed in slowly, then out.

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry it’s… it’s been a while since I’ve been with a human.” He reasoned. “It’s good to ask questions. It’s—that’s a good one. Do you have any more?”

That made you pause. There were millions of things you could ask the King of Hell and yet not one thing could properly formulate in your brain.

“Um, I need a second to think about it.” You muttered. “What about you? My setup is pretty basic? I guess? I have a womb. At least I did, at my last physical a year and a half ago.”

Lucifer’s lips twitched upward in a half-smile and there was an answering flutter from your stomach. “I know.”

Your eyebrows shot up and he immediately started babbling. “I mean! I know because the contract went through! The ink would’ve turned red… or disappeared… To be honest, I don't know. I haven’t made a deal in a long time, ha ha. But I remember something happens when there’s a technical issue!”

“Ah,” You felt better with that explanation.

Kind of.

“I thought of a question, actually. Sorry.” You shrugged sheepishly. “It’s probably in the contract but…”

You swallowed down your trepidation. “… I won’t die, right?”

Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, you faced the floor and missed the way Lucifer’s face fell.

“Barring the normal risks that come with being pregnant, nothing else is gonna happen, right? Or if it does, it won’t be agonizing?” You asked quietly.

A moment of silence passed before the ex-Angel’s fingers curled under your chin. Your head rose and you saw Lucifer's eyes soften from something sharper and more determined.

“I will do everything in my power to protect you and the baby.” He said firmly. “Nothing terrible will happen to either of you. I swear.”

It was strange, the effect his words had on you. The jittery feeling in your chest slowly disappeared, and the tears forming in your eyes didn’t fall.

“Okay.” You nodded with a barely there, watery smile.

——

“I’m gonna turn off the lights, ok?” You said over your shoulder.

Lucifer was undoing the last of the buttons of his dress shirt, vest and overcoat already laid neatly over your desk. He met your gaze, eyes bright.

“Of course.” His close-lipped smile struck you, but you flipped the light switch before you could think on it.

A lack of light did very little to suppress Lucifer. He seemed to glow like the star of his namesake, flourishing in the dark and hard to miss. You simply hoped, as you pulled at your sleeves, his shine wouldn’t illuminate the terrain of your body.

Cold air hit your skin, goosebumps rose along your bare arms and shoulders, but you persisted. When everything was shucked save for your underwear, you moved to your bed and realized Lucifer was still standing at the baseboard.

With arms crossed, you assumed the same position at the side of the bed. “Um?”

“Ladies first!” He chimed, as if reading your mind.

You sighed, then slowly climbed onto the mattress and awkwardly pulled the comforter from under your butt. You settled and patted a spot in front of you.

Hesitantly, Lucifer accepted the invitation, and he was sitting next to you before you could blink.

No going back now.

You shifted in your spot uneasily. Fuck, it had been a long time since you had sex.

How did you start this shit again?

No kissing — per your own request. You had half a mind to take it back while you sat there floundering, trying not to let the tangible awkwardness break your resolve entirely.

You could do this. For a lifetime of no work, no bills, no cares.

You could do this.

A bit of movement in the dark caught your eye. You glanced down and realized that Lucifer was twiddling his thumbs waiting for you.

The laugh came bubbling from your throat before you could stop it. Reaching out, you grabbed one of his hands and tugged him forward.

You could see his throat constrict as he swallowed and smiled questioningly. “What?”

Lucifer yelped when you laid back, taking him with you.

——

“Ah! F-fu — Slow down!” You scolded, words muffled as you were repeatedly pushed down into the pillows.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you just,” Every word was punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips against the flesh of your ass. “Feel. So. Fucking. Good.”

Lucifer moaned loudly as he continued to lose himself in the sensation. You could only groan, irritation building as your partner refused to give you even the most basic attention. The frustration peaked quickly, then unraveled as his pleasured moans and squeaks caused your stomach to somersault over and over again.

You clenched around his cock when he whined, thrusting into you so deeply you felt the base of him stretching your hole that much wider.

Well, fuck you for finding the sound of a masculine voice cracking the hottest thing in all of creation.

But it was actually getting you there, so what were you complaining for?

Eyes closed, you focused on the feeling, trying to jump off that precipice with only penetration. It reminded you of when you were a teen, awkwardly feeling around down there. Of trying to find the appeal in your fingers inside of somewhere so sensitive against the fear of hurting yourself. All while you worked yourself up with your own imagination.

In a perfect world, you would’ve moved on from that stage of life with no repeat performances. Hopefully, it could still be salvag—

You gripped the pillows that hadn’t tumbled off the juddering mattress when Lucifer’s claws dug into your hips. He pulled you as close as humanly possible with a strangled yelp, shivering, shuddering, stammering incoherence as warmth flooded your insides.

Fuck’s sake.

——

You were disappointed, but not surprised. All you could do after the fact was bury yourself in the covers and watch Lucifer catch his breath beside you.

Not finishing aside, exhaustion from the entire ordeal made you indolent and your thoughts hazy. You studied your partner as he calmed down, clearly trying not to be too close to you now that the deed was done.

Lucifer’s hair was in disarray, the space between his eyes and across his cheeks rosy like the blots parallel to his smile.

“Hey.”

Lucifer looked at you innocently, waiting. You could physically feel your walls crumbling down despite yourself.

“Come here.” You murmured, hand sliding beneath the covers to touch that poreless skin.

Damn you and your soft heart.

‘Actually…’ You had Lucifer in your arms, his body still warm. Once he was in your grasp, the King melted against you.

He looked a little afraid as you tilted him up by the chin to look at you. The Devil had surprisingly soulful eyes, questioning whatever you had in store.

The tiny thought that he was being way too vulnerable drew a taut, uncomfortable feeling your chest.

“Kiss me.”

Lucifer blinked in rapid succession — surprise, wonder, confusion and hope bloom all at once on his unusual face.

It made you laugh in the quiet, comfortable darkness of your room before you yourself leaned in and met his lips with your own. The line of Lucifer’s mouth trembled, but he reciprocated with only minor hesitation.

* Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1,

Please let me know I missed tagging you!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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orionremastered · 3 months

Note

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

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ginnsbaker · 6 months

Text

In Silent Screams (3/3)

Chapter word count: 11.8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision (past) Warnings in this part: Smut (F/F), Angst, Gaslighting, Blackmail, Mild attempted sexual assault

A/N: This is probably the most uncomfortable fic I've written after In Flames (for good reason lol), so I'm nothing short of amazed if you were able to go through every line in this three-parter. P.S. For some reason, third part was the hardest to write for me, I guess it's because a lot of the scenes now are the same ones from In Flames after R found out and switching perspectives was a lot harder than I anticipated :P

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It all feels like a dream, starting from the moment she opens her eyes and a few rays of light have filtered through the slats of the blinds. For a few moments Wanda pretends she’s back to that day—to that first morning she woke up next to you as your wife. She can still vividly recall the setting: your old bedroom in Montauk. Less than a year out of college, both you and Wanda were being frugal about the whole marriage thing, opting out of checking into a hotel after the festivities the night before.

Wanda smiles to herself at the fond memory. She glances to the side, and the alarm clock reads 5:30. It's too early to be waking you up, or anyone in this sleepy town. Nevertheless, she has to talk herself into extricating herself from your arms if she wants to pull off a very special breakfast-in-bed. A hesitant decision, a quiet sigh, and Wanda's slowly pulling herself from the warmth of the bed. The wood floor feels cool against her bare feet, prompting her to reach for one of your used polo shirts hanging over the back of the desk chair.

She enters the kitchen, her hands immediately getting to work. The spinach and mushroom are her first go-to, swiftly layered with day-old bread, and custard mix, forming the base for her strata. Next come the eggs, which she sets to poach, anticipating the smooth burst of yolk that'll cascade over the muffin once all is said and done. And then finally, bacon—your favorite.

Sparky trots into the kitchen, inevitably drawn by the wafting aroma, his tail wagging in tandem with his eagerness. He settles by her feet, watching with those pleading puppy eyes, occasionally letting out a quiet whine that speaks of his impatience and hope. Wanda chuckles, bending down to ruffle his fur. “You think this will get you a piece, huh?” she teases. But, she already knows that she'll give in, sneaking him a piece or two. He's your and Wanda's baby after all.

After she’s finished plating the meal, she sets them on a tray and carefully carries it back to the bedroom. The morning sun presents itself more boldly, almost spotlighting you in bed. Your face is tucked beneath a pillow, the sheets haphazardly pooled around your waist, revealing the bare expanse of your back, without a care in the world. Warmth floods Wanda's chest. She places the tray on a nearby desk.

Breakfast can wait.

Slipping into bed behind you, she becomes a shadow to your form. Her fingers gently trace the curve of your shoulder, lightly skimming over your skin. A shiver runs through her, and she lowers her lips to your nape. The temptation is too great, and soon, her tongue joins the fray, drawing a wet path down your spine. And then, unable to stop herself, she begins to rub herself against you, a soft moan escaping her lips. The sheer fabric of the polo shirt she's wearing, infused with your scent, rubs tantalizingly against her sensitized skin, heightening her need.

She can't stop thinking about last night, and the times before. She can't stop thinking about you—having you, being had by you. However, as your muscles start to tense, indicating the micro movements of your awakening body, a soft “fuck” slips from Wanda's lips, distracting her rhythm. She waits, a small smile tugging at her lips, silently asking if you're ready to greet the day—together.

You lazily roll onto your back, causing Wanda to reposition herself, now straddling your abdomen. With a drowsy smirk, your eyes half-lidded, you murmur, “Good morning,” squinting at the enthusiastic goddess—my wife, you think possessively to yourself— hovering above you.

Her face lights up, her morning energy nearly palpable. “Morning,” she chirps back, leaning down to capture your lips in a short but sweet kiss. Breaking away only slightly, she gives you a playful eskimo kiss, her nose rubbing affectionately against yours. A giggle escapes you, and she continues until you feel her nose scrunch up from how hard she’s smiling, all the while relishing the sound of her laughter.

When she's done teasing you, she buries her face in your neck. Drawn to the soft, milky expanse of her thighs, your hands begin to wander. As your fingers brush the curve where her thigh meets her hip, the subtle absence of fabric gives you pause. She's without a stitch beneath your polo. Your thumb ventures further south, discovering the dampness tangled in her soft curls. Heat surges to your cheeks, and you bite your lip, stifling a moan.

Wanda notices the slight change in your expression and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. “Seems like you found a little surprise,” she teases.

“Did I?” you smirk, tracing the V-line leading to her hidden treasure, teasing her a little. Wanda's breath catches, her pupils blown. But just as she readies herself for whatever comes next, you suddenly shift upwards, unbalancing her slightly. Reflexively, her legs wrap around your waist, anchoring herself to you. Her hands fly to your shoulders, gripping them for support. With a swift move, you part the front of the polo she’s wearing, exposing the smooth curve of her breast to the cool morning air.

The sudden exposure makes her gasp, but before she can utter a word, you close the distance, taking a hardened nipple into your mouth. Her face contorts in unabashed pleasure, her world spinning as you draw her deeper and deeper into your mouth. It's messy and primal, yet at the same time, it's reverent and sacred—something she has only ever experienced with you. She can't help but squirm, fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on.

Keeping an arm firmly around her waist to ensure she stays secure, your free hand travels down her belly, fingers tracing a sultry path to her soaked center. You leisurely trace her slick folds, gathering her arousal, playing with it.

“Please, baby,” she arches and bucks, grinding her hips, “more...I need more.”

Your lips twist into a devious smirk, reveling in her desperation. Drawing back slightly, you gaze at the flushed, vulnerable state of her, taking a moment to commit the image to memory. “I love it when you’re this needy…” you rasp, the tease evident in your tone.

Oh, but she is. She needs you to claim her, time and time again. She never wants to be anything else other than yours once more.

You lean back in, trailing a path of searing kisses from her collarbone, down to the valley between her breasts. Without warning, you nip at her tender flesh, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. Marking her further, you suck and bite gently, leaving a trail of reddened spots, declaring your claim on her. With every purple bruise you leave, Wanda's moans grow more desperate, more wanton.

When you finally lift your head, her chest is littered with bites, then with a wicked grin, you dip your finger into her wetness once more, circling her entrance but never dipping inside.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I... I want you,” she admits breathlessly, biting her lower lip, eyes pleading. “Please, I need you inside.”

Not wanting to make her wait any longer, you slide two fingers into her, curling them expertly. Wanda's body arches off the bed, her inner walls instantly tightening around your digits, pulling them deeper. Every sound that spills from her lips, the way her body arches, trying to get closer, to feel more of you, tells you just how good you’re making her feel.

Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, while your fingers continue to piston in and out of her. The room is filled with the sound of Wanda's ragged breaths and the wet, slick noises of your fingers moving within her. As you feel her body tense further, you take a chance and slide a third finger into her, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation of being so full sends Wanda over the edge.

“Oh, God!” she gasps, her back arching, eyes squeezed shut. Her hands grip your shoulders tightly, knuckles white from the intensity of her climax. Her inner walls spasm around your fingers, coating them with her release, her entire body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.

You keep up the pace, not wanting to stop until she's wrung out from pleasure. Each stroke of your fingers sends aftershocks rippling through her. When it finally becomes too much, Wanda grabs your wrist.

“Enough,” she breathes out, a sated smile curling her lips.

You can't resist the allure of the taste she's left on your fingers. You raise them to your lips, deliberately and slowly, letting her watch as you savor her taste. The move earns a flustered gasp from her.

“You taste so good,” you murmur, your voice low and husky.

Wanda's cheeks redden, but her eyes darken once more, filled with a burning intensity. “Your turn,” she whispers, reaching for you.

Thirty minutes before she can call it a day, the sound of a knock on her office door sends a ripple of tension through Wanda.

She knows that knock all too well.

Taking a deep breath, she calls out, “Yes?” even as she mentally braces herself for who might be on the other side.

The person almost immediately steps in, and—unfortunately, she's correct about who she thinks it might be. Before she can utter a word, he says, “You know, I can't just come in without an appointment, right?”

“Exactly, Vision. You shouldn't be here without—” she starts to say, but he interrupts her by triumphantly holding up an appointment slip.

His cheeky grin widens. “Got one right here.”

Wanda eyes the slip, pursing her lips as she thinks of a retort, keeping her guard up. The game has changed, but Vision's audacity, it seems, remains the same.

“Alright, what do you want? And I wouldn’t entertain anything that doesn’t have to do with the course.”

“Just some clarification about our last lecture,” he says as he closes the door behind him, audibly locking it. Wanda maintains her composure, not letting it show that the small act alarms her in the slightest.

“Go on,” Wanda prompts, leaning back slightly against her desk, arms crossed defensively.

But Vision, without missing a beat, launches into something entirely different. “I miss you,” he starts, and Wanda's posture stiffens, her fingernails reactively digging into her arms rather painfully. “I realize I messed up, Wanda. I do. But I can change.”

“Vis—” she warns, trying to interrupt him, but he barrels on, his voice filled with desperation.

“And if, by any chance, you're pregnant, I'll step up. I promise. I'll be responsible,” he continues, his voice quivering slightly. “You have no idea how happy I’ll be if you are.”

“I'm not pregnant,” Wanda whispers, struggling to keep her emotions in check. It's one thing for him to disregard her boundaries and be reckless with his words, but to assume that she would continue a pregnancy, knowing he's the father? Even the thought of it is sickening.

“And I would still choose not to be even if you were successful in your plans,” she adds, just to spite him.

Vision looks as if he might be sick, his complexion turning pallid, and a faint sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. Wanda has never seen him struck by her words this hard, and she realizes she doesn't have any idea what he might do next.

“I just... I thought…” he stammers, eyes glistening, “I just wanted to matter to you, b-by—”

“By what, Vision?” She cuts him off, her tone icy. “Hoping you'd lock me down by trying to knock me up?”

Vision’s face crumples further, tears spilling over. For all his stature—tall, lanky yet broad-shouldered—in this moment, he's stripped of that facade. His body shake as he tries to hold back sobs. “I didn't... I didn't think it through,” he manages to say between choked breaths.

Wanda almost pities him, but she shakes her head. “If you’re not here for school, you need to leave.” Her voice is cold, but inside, she's fighting a storm of guilt for the hurt she sees in him.

Just then, the shrill ring of Wanda's phone startles them both simultaneously. Vision's eyes dart to the screen as her caller ID lights up, displaying your name. In a split second, desperation and panic take hold of him. He lunges for the phone, but Wanda is quicker. She swiftly grabs it from her desk, tucking it safely into her purse.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses, her back pressing against the desk.

Vision's eyes burn with an intensity that chills her. Taking slow, deliberate steps, he looms over her, his presence imposing in the small confines of her office. “That’s her, isn’t it?” he demands with barely suppressed jealousy. “She's coming to get you now?”

Wanda backs away slightly, her breathing erratic. “Vision, you need to think—”

“I am thinking.” His voice drops to a low, menacing growl. He tilts his head, eyes never leaving hers. “And maybe I'm thinking of doing something you won't like.”

“No!” Wanda pleads. “Look, Vision—okay, okay, let’s talk. Just not here. We can go to your place.”

His gaze narrows, considering her offer. “When?”

“Soon.”

Vision shakes his head. Not good enough.

“Tomorrow,” he states without room for argument, his eyes drilling into hers. “Same time. Like we used to.” The allusion to their previous meetings isn't lost on her.

Wanda's throat constricts, “Fine,” she whispers, barely audible, a clear note of dread in her voice. She hates the familiarity of this situation. Most of all, she hates that she's put herself in this position to begin with.

Suddenly, Vision reaches out, his fingers nearly brushing the side of her face. Wanda instinctively shrinks back, but the space between the desk and Vision offers her little room to escape. Her back is to the wall, both literally and figuratively. She can feel the cold press of the desk behind her, contrasting with the heat emanating from Vision's body. It’s obvious what he's thinking, what he's restraining himself from doing.

Horrified and trapped, Wanda closes her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. But instead of the touch she anticipates, she hears Vision's harsh intake of breath. The realization that she's retreated from him seems to strike a nerve.

Without another word, Vision pulls away sharply, as if burnt. He turns on his heel, storming out of her office. As soon as he’s gone, her legs give out from under her and she slides down to the cold floor, clutching her chest as she struggles for air. The walls of her office seem to close in on her, trapping her in her own spiraling thoughts.

As the room begins to blur, the sharp buzz of her phone breaks through her spiraling thoughts. Instinctively, she reaches into her purse, pulling out the phone. Your name illuminates the screen, and with it comes a flood of emotions—relief, safety, love.

The mere thought of you—so close, just beyond these walls—stops a panic attack from consuming her.

“Would you like to go bowling?” Wanda asks you as soon as she fastens her seat belt.

The randomness of the suggestion takes you aback, and a hearty laugh escapes your lips. But as you glance over to see Wanda's reaction, expecting to see her sharing in the moment's levity, you're met with a pained expression.

Your smile fades immediately, replaced by concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

Wanda mentally curses herself, realizing just how easily you can read her, see past her defenses. Needing to come up with something plausible, she quickly blurts out, “I had something super spicy when you called earlier. Didn't handle it too well, it seems.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up in a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, hoping you'd buy the lie, or at least not press further.

You don’t. “Hmm… how about we take Sparky out for a stroll today?” you suggest.

“A walk sounds great,” Wanda replies, her voice softening.

“Good,” you say, starting the car. “Let's head to the park. A bit of nature might do us both some good.”

The engine rumbles softly as you shift the gears, transitioning smoothly from one to the next. And then, almost instinctively, you reach out to take Wanda's hand, your fingers lacing with hers in a gentle yet firm grip. You hold her hand throughout the entire ride home, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze whenever you feel them tremble between yours.

That night, while you sleep soundly beside her, she finds herself unable to sleep. She spends the empty hours simply studying your peaceful face. There's a childlike innocence in the way your lips part slightly, a soft snore escaping occasionally. It's endearing, and it makes Wanda smile, even through her turmoil. She imagines traces of age on your face—the lines that will mark years of laughter, the silver that will streak through your hair. She tries to picture herself beside you, her own face carrying the weight of the years, both of you holding on to each other until the last breath. Her smile is teary as she hopes and hopes that this is where she's headed—to this future.

Because tomorrow, she will have to see Vision, and if everything goes well, she'll never have to see him again. Then she will finally express how she needs you to take her back to Manhattan or anywhere far from here, so she'll never have to relive this nightmare she’s created.

The next day comes like any regular day of the week. She kisses you goodbye as you head off to work, and she feeds Sparky to his heart's content before getting into a pinstripe blue blazer set. She fails to notice just how good she looks in this well-fitted ensemble, the fabric hugging her waist perfectly. Her focus is solely on feeling powerful, as she knows she'll need all the strength to finally put an end to things with Vision.

Wanda takes a deep breath, then another, and then two more, before she finally gathers enough courage to knock on the door. Vision answers almost immediately, as though he had been anticipating her knock down to the very second.

The man before her now looks wholly different from the one she had encountered just yesterday. His blue eyes are bright and clear, his face clean shaven. The scent of a cologne she doesn't recognize wafts to her. New, she thinks. It's heady and distinctly masculine, unsettling her slightly.

“Wanda,” he greets with a charming smile, one that reaches his eyes, but doesn’t quite touch the soul behind them. For a moment, she's transported to the countless afternoons she spent here, entangled with him with nothing—not even air—separating their sweating, writhing bodies. His lips quirk into a sly, familiar smile, as if he too remembers those days and expects this visit to be a similar occasion.

“Vision.” Gripping her shoulder bag tighter, almost using it as a shield, she quickly sidesteps him. “May I?” she asks, though it sounds more like a statement as she makes her way into his apartment.

He chuckles softly behind her, the sound dripping with memories she would rather forget. “Of course. After all, you've always felt at home here.”

Wanda's stride falters for a fraction of a second at his words, the implication threatening to pull her under. But she needed to keep her wits about her. If she wants this conversation to go her way.

“Let’s just get to the point, Vision,” she says curtly.

“I intend to,” he replies, closing the door behind them with an intentional finality. Wanda allows herself to glance around, seeking even a brief distraction from what's about to unfold. His apartment is in disarray, a stark contrast to his appearance. Her eyes are drawn to one particular piece amongst the chaos—the finished nude painting he had made of her. The realization catches in her throat. It appears he’s finished it.

Wanda shoots him an expectant look, urging him to speak first.

Vision clears his throat, attempting to sound casual but failing. “Wine? Or should we skip the formalities?”

Her eyes narrow, her patience waning. “We skip.”

“Alright.”

He sighs and drops onto the couch. “Look, I've said sorry over and over, but I’ll say it again. I'm sorry, Wanda. I'm sorry for being careless that night.” His voice lowers, “But I don't regret it.”

Wanda's eyes flash with disbelief. “You don't regret it?”

“No,” he murmurs. “What I regret is that it didn't result in... well, you know.”

The implication is clear, and Wanda feels bile rise in her throat. How could he say something so audacious?

She opens her mouth to retort but he continues, raising a hand as if to hold off her words, “I want to keep seeing you. I can’t stop. Because, believe it or not, I'm in love with you.”

Wanda feels as though the ground has been pulled from under her feet. Every instinct tells her to run, but she knows that this won’t have an ending if she does. Wanda swallows dryly and closes her eyes, trying to piece together a strategy, a way to get through him, a way to get out of this unscathed, a way to ensure he won’t tell anyone about this when she leaves.

“I-I believe you,” she starts. “I think I’ve always known, no—felt, that you l-love me.” Vision nods to her words, his lips curling into a hopeful smile.

“But I have to be honest with you, too,” she continues, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I took advantage of those feelings, Vision. I knew, deep down, that you felt this way and I still... I still let it happen. And for that, I'm deeply sorry.”

He stiffens at her words, a frown forming on his brow. “Wanda—”

She raises her hand, signaling for him to let her finish. “I don’t love you. It's Y/N. It's always been her. From the very start. What happened between us, it was a mistake, one that I haven't forgiven myself for. Especially because of what it means for Y/N.”

She takes a shaky breath, looking into his eyes earnestly, “You deserve someone who can return your feelings, who can love you wholeheartedly. You're a handsome, intelligent, passionate young man. There are many out there who would consider themselves lucky to be with you—”

But Vision vehemently shakes his head, unwilling to accept it, refusing to acknowledge their end. “I want to keep seeing you.”

“You can't,” Wanda insists, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. “It's over.”

Vision's eyes flash dangerously, the calm veneer shattering in an instant. He takes a step forward, trapping Wanda with a threatening look.

“You think you can just fuck me and then discard me like nothing?!” he hisses.

Wanda backs up, startled. She feels her control starting to slip away. “Of course not. I… you were my friend. I cared—I care about you. But I shouldn't have let it get this far.”

He scoffs, not a word of hers reaching his ears. “So, it's all a game to you? You get to decide when to play and when to stop?”

“No, it's not a game,” she replies, desperate for him to understand. “But I can't keep lying to myself or to you. I can't keep hurting Y/N or you.”

His gaze snaps back to hers, and there's a glint of something dark and foreboding in his eyes. “Maybe you should've considered the consequences of your actions, Wanda.”

She swallows hard, sensing the danger in his voice. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe Y/N should know the truth,” he surmises, his voice dripping with malice. “Maybe she should know exactly who she's been sharing her bed with.”

Wanda feels like she might faint anytime. Panic rises, threatening to choke her. “Vision, please,” she pleads, “you can't do that.”

His eyes remain steely. “Why not? She deserves to know, doesn't she?”

Wanda takes a shaky breath, grappling for words, trying to appeal to his sense of reason. “Yes, she does. But not like this. Not from you. If anyone should tell her, it's me.”

“But you'll never tell her,” Vision says, his voice laced with accusation. “I see it in your eyes, Wanda. You don't have the balls to be honest with her. Because you're afraid. You're afraid she'll walk away.”

Both are poised in this high-stakes game, each waiting, anticipating, guessing what card the other will play next. For a heartbeat, Wanda feels disarmed, Vision's threat too sharp and too real. But as the seconds tick by, something shifts in her. She straightens up, pulling herself to her full height, and when she speaks, there’s no fear or hesitation in her voice.

“You’re not going to tell her,” she declares.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Because you know I'll hate you,” she says. “And if there's even the slightest chance that I'll change my mind, then doing that wouldn't be it.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, but the look in his eyes betrays his indifference. “You think there's a chance you'll change your mind?”

“No,” Wanda says firmly. “It's over.”

The defiant look that had been painted across Vision's face begins to crack. He looks smaller somehow, like he's shrinking back into himself. His shoulders slump, and the facade of control and confidence he'd donned earlier dissolves. The boy from yesterday, the one who seemed so heartbroken, returns in full force.

“Wanda,” his voice trembles, almost as if he's on the verge of tears. “Please, I’m all alone. I told you my life, I told you about my parents, nobody in this world cares about me! And I know I said I’m fine and I can survive without them, but why should I when I have you, Wanda—”

She can't help but pity him, his brokenness tugging at her heartstrings. But she knows that relenting now would mean drowning in the same cycle all over again.

“Vis, you will find someone. Someone who isn't me, someone better for you. Trust that.”

“How can I want someone else when I had you,” he insists with unwavering stubbornness, his eyes growing more frenzied, and Wanda shivers at the unsettling sight before her.

“Maybe you had me,” she says tearfully as she decides to finally drive a stake into his heart. “But not in every way like Y/N has me.”

Before she can register what's happening, Vision's hands are suddenly around her waist, pulling her forcefully against him. The initial shock and his assertiveness make her freeze for a split second. As he starts rubbing himself against her, she feels the unmistakable hardness growing between them.

“Vision, stop!” she protests, trying to wriggle free.

“Can you feel that?” he whispers hoarsely, clearly misinterpreting her struggle, mistaking it for their first time together and all the other times she eventually gave in to his advances. “That's how much I want you. Need you.”

Tears of frustration and fear spill from her eyes. “This isn't right, Vision. Let go,” she pleads, placing her hands against his chest and pushing with all her might.

“Wanda, just—maybe if we—you’ll see. You’ll see that you love me, just let me—”

Her fist connects with his cheek, causing him to stumble a few steps away. For a while, they both freeze in horror, the gravity of the situation sinking in. In his moment of delirium, Vision comprehends what he was about to do to the woman he claims to love, and guilt claws at his guts, wrenching his insides.

On the other end, Wanda's chest heaves with shock and distress. She stands there momentarily paralyzed, the aftershocks of the ordeal still rippling through her. Tears blur her vision, but she refuses to let them fall, not now, not when she needs all her strength. Her gaze meets Vision's only briefly before she pulls herself together. She wraps her arms around herself, and then rushes to the front door.

He yells, “No, Wanda! I…please let’s just—”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears.

Wanda goes straight home after the whole fiasco with Vision. She locks herself in the bedroom, crying for hours, paying no attention to Sparky's worried barks from outside the door. She tells herself that it could be worse, trying to talk herself out of going to the police. If she goes to the authorities, she'll have to give a statement. This would inevitably lead to an investigation into their past, revealing things she doesn't want you to know.

Drained from crying, Wanda's eyelids grow heavy. As sleep overtakes her, vivid dreams flood her mind, each presenting an alternate reality. In one dream she’s back in Vision’s apartment, his arms wrapped around her like a chain, and every time she tries to pull away, the chains grow tighter, pulling her back into his prison. A cold dread settles in her heart, as she struggles and fights, desperate to wrench herself free from his grasp.

The next scenario places her in a world without Vision. It's a life untouched by his influence, where she walks unfamiliar streets and meets faces that do not recognize her. Then, in a sudden shift, she's back at her office on that fateful evening, but the events unfurl differently. The temptation of Vision never materializes. She leaves, unburdened by the weight of a choice she didn't make.

But the relief is short-lived. These dreams meld into a harrowing nightmare, saturated in hues of red and black, where you discover her secret. She tries to call out, to explain, to mend, but her voice is swallowed by the deafening silence of the dreamscape.

In her seemingly endless silent screams, Wanda wakes up. The remnants of her haunting dreams still clutching at her, making her jolt upright. The fabric of the sheets sticks to her body, drenched in a cold sweat. Each breath comes in ragged gasps, as if she's been submerged underwater and has just broken the surface.

The bedside clock reads half past six and panic sets anew. You could be home in an hour, given that you haven't been extending your hours at the office lately. The realization pushes her into a frenzied urgency. Throwing off the sheets, Wanda rushes to the ensuite bathroom. The cold stream from the shower brings a semblance of clarity, washing away the residues of her nightmares.

Wrapped in a towel, with droplets still cascading down her skin, she dashes to the kitchen. She pulls out ingredients, her hands working methodically, albeit with a haste that speaks of her need to keep busy, to keep the demons of her subconscious at bay. She manages to prepare a simple but appetizing meal, but the mere thought of taking a bite threatens to turn her stomach inside out.

The dining table is set, and she seats herself, her gaze distant once again. And she stays there, lost in her own head.

It’s how you find her when you get home at 9:15 in the evening.

You’re quiet tonight. Alarmingly so.

She asks you how your day was, and you respond tersely with a simple, “Good.” She attempts to get you to elaborate, maybe share an anecdote like you usually do, but you dismiss her efforts, attributing your lack of interest in conversation to fatigue.

But Wanda can’t stand the silence. When it’s quiet, the voices in her head are even louder.

So she decides to tell you about her day instead. She swears to herself this is the last day she’ll ever lie to you with a straight face. She talks about the final projects her students have begun submitting. As she describes her favorites, your interest particularly sharpens when she mentions the portrait projects. You pepper her with questions, mostly about who made which, and Wanda offers names that probably wouldn't mean much to you.

After you finish eating, you thank her with a small smile. It's only then that Wanda feels she can breathe again. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours, her longing evident. However, just as she tries to deepen the kiss, you pull away, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Showered without me?” you tease, but it lacks the usual lilt in your voice. She simply nods in response. You playfully tap her nose, whispering, “Naughty girl.” Then, without another word, you're on your feet and heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

She proceeds to clear the table and wash the dishes, all while the sound of the shower fills her ears. She allows herself a small smile, chiding herself for being overly affected by her dream.

By the time she makes her way up to join you, she discovers you've already drifted off, turned away from the vacant space beside you that's meant for her.

She’s positively shaking as she takes the short walk from the parking lot to the classroom, the dread building up inside her like a swelling storm. The thought of facing her class, and especially Vision, sends shivers down her spine. The recent events—the horrifically inappropriate advances and Vision's glaring sense of entitlement—play over and over in her mind.

Her feet eventually take her to her destination, but she remains outside for a full minute. The thought of facing Vision again is almost enough to turn her around. But another, stronger, voice reminds her of her duty, her commitment to her other students, and her own integrity. Moreover, she doesn't want to be alone today, here the haunting events with Vision could replay in her mind without any distractions.

She pushes open the door. It appears to be a typical day, with her students clustered in small groups, engrossed in conversation and seemingly oblivious to her arrival. She swiftly surveys the room and, to her relief, doesn't spot the familiar blue eyes that usually fixate on her by this time.

When she starts her lecture on the final topic of the semester, it flows seamlessly. Still, the end of the course can't come soon enough; continuing here is untenable. She can’t keep teaching here, when these hallways keep reminding her of the mistake that almost cost her everything.

You've been leaving the side of your bed cold for almost two weeks now. Sometimes, your careful movements stir her awake, and she watches you, bleary-eyed, as you go through the motions of prepping for a run, a habit you've picked up quite recently. At first, Wanda would always ask where you’re headed and if she can accompany you. But you'd consistently dismiss her offer, always seeming in a rush to hit the pavement.

She thinks it’s good for you—the exercise. The only aspect of your new hobby that she dislikes is that you typically go before sunrise, where everywhere is still too dark and eerily quiet, and her imagination runs wild of all the worst things that could happen to you while you’re out on your run.

And Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she can't help but internalize the consistent rejection of her offers to join you. She wonders if there's a deeper reason behind it. When you're out and she's left alone with her thoughts, Wanda can't help but let the guilt seep in. Has she become too transparent? Has something given her secret away? Did you find out about her affair? How would she even begin to explain?

But then you return after your run, with a sense of tranquility, as though the exercise had been a cathartic release of some pent-up tension. However, something still feels amiss. Perhaps it's because she hasn't slept with you since the night she discovered she wasn't pregnant with Vision's child, and all that has passed between you are brief, perfunctory kisses here and there. She wants to discuss it with you, but she doesn't want to appear too eager or guilty. Instead, she remains committed to being a good wife. And even though being a good wife was never about housework, Wanda ensures that every corner of the house sparkles and shines.

Meanwhile, you go about fulfilling your own household responsibilities seamlessly. From tending to minor repairs to ensuring that bills are paid on time, you continue with the routines that have always defined the dynamic of your relationship. There's no sign of resentment or dissatisfaction in your actions. It's almost as if everything is back to normal. This confounds Wanda even more. She starts to question her own memory, wondering if perhaps this distance, this new version of you, has always been present and she just never realized it. It's possible that you've become this way while she was preoccupied with her affair, and she didn't notice how you slowly adjusted to her unavailability.

Of course, she only has herself to blame. She's determined, however, to rectify it and make it up to you.

Which is when the idea strikes her. The dream vacation to Hawaii that both of you often fantasized about but never took due to financial constraints and a tight schedule. With the money from her teaching job, she now has the means to turn that dream into a reality. A surprise trip might be the perfect remedy to rekindle the connection that has worn out due to your busy lives and... her unfaithfulness.

She knows it doesn't atone for her sins, but it's a step in the right direction.

It should have been the perfect day for her surprises. She has two of them—the surprise trip and the news of her resignation from the university. She had just handed you the box with all the Hawaii trip details, and you were about to dive in, when there was a knock at the door.

Two men in dark suits have arrived at the house, looking for her. Detectives—Rogers and Barnes. Wanda uncovers the real reason behind Vision's absence from school, and it wasn't due to personal family matters or a decision to pursue education elsewhere.

He's been in an accident, and they suspect foul play.

Their questions start off simple, touching on the basics. But soon, they feel like piercing arrows as they delve into the phone calls between them, how close they were, and if she ever set foot in his apartment. Throughout the interrogation, Wanda manages to keep a straight face, though deep down she knows she probably can't fool detectives of their caliber. Yet, she silently prays that you don't see past her mask.

“That’s enough,” you interject firmly. “My wife has answered your questions. Unless there’s anything else directly related to your investigation, I believe we’ve covered everything.”

Your intervention when their questions grow more intrusive suggests she's managed to keep you in the dark. The realization that you're still on her side floods her with immense relief.

“Very well. Thank you both for your time,” Rogers says.

But Wanda isn’t done. She has her own questions. She needs to know if Vision's involvement with her is the reason they're here, probing. She wonders if he might have informed the authorities about their inappropriate relationship, and if that somehow relates to his current situation.

“Wait!” Wanda exclaims, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She contemplates asking her burning questions, but with you observing from the side, she suppresses her urge to do so. Instead, she conveys her worry—she is, after all, his teacher.

“Is he… is he okay?”

Wanda's complexion turns ashen upon catching the look on Barnes' face, instantly realizing he's fully aware of her and Vision's relationship. She can barely hear Roger's response, her blood rushing in her ears.

“…that he’s stable. However, he remains in a coma. It’s uncertain when or if he’ll wake up, but let's hold onto hope.”

Oh.

Her secret's safe—for now. But she... she has to be certain. She needs to tie up any loose ends, if there are any.

It's reckless to visit Vision's apartment in daylight, especially right after a visit from the police.

Exiting her car, Wanda's sandals softly scrape against the ground. She pauses to scan her surroundings, her gaze flitting from one building to another. The neighboring houses and apartment complexes stand silent, their stillness almost eerie, as if they've been forsaken. She knows that not many reside in this part of the town, a fact that had made Vision's apartment an ideal hideaway for their secret meetings.

She cautiously approaches Vision's unit, her hand shaking slightly as it reaches for the door knob: locked. A memory surges—Vision handing her a spare key during one of their early encounters. Retrieving it from her bag, she hesitantly fits it into the lock, preparing herself for what she might find beyond the door.

It opens with a muted creak, and a blanket of darkness envelops her. Hesitating at the threshold, she fumbles for a light switch, her fingers brushing against the cool wall before finding it. She'd half-expected Vision's belongings to be packed up, perhaps by a landlord who wanted to move on from the situation. But everything appears untouched, as if frozen in time; dust hasn't settled, and the items scattered about give no indication that the place has been vacant for weeks. It occurs to her that the ongoing investigation might be the reason the apartment remains untouched.

Wanda moves quickly, knowing she shouldn’t linger. Heading straight to the bathroom, she swiftly gathers her toothbrush and a few other personal items she had left behind. As she emerges, her gaze is drawn to the corner where Vision's easel stands. It used to hold a portrait of her, a work he'd wanted to submit for his final project, capturing her in a light she had never seen herself. But now, it’s empty.

A cold rush of panic seizes her. She clutches the edge of a table, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Had Vision decided to move the painting for some reason? Or worse, had the detectives seen it and taken it as evidence? The painting wasn’t just art; it was tangible evidence of their affair.

But then, in the midst of her mounting fear, a memory jolts her—there was another painting, the one Vision had purchased from the gallery where she used to work. With a newfound urgency, she hurries to his bedroom. The scene is disarrayed, with sheets and pillows strewn about. Ignoring the mess, Wanda goes directly to the cabinet where she remembered he last stored it. She yanks open the doors, and her eyes dart around, searching, but the painting is nowhere to be found.

Desperation grips her. If the detectives come across either painting, they'd have more reasons to scrutinize her further than she's comfortable with. Such involvement would be near-impossible to hide from you. Wanda proceeds with caution, scanning the apartment for any lingering items that could connect her to Vision. Unexpectedly, she finds a piece of her lingerie nestled within his sock drawer. Swiftly, she snatches it up. Before departing, she meticulously wipes away any fingerprints from the surfaces she's touched, then dashes to her car.

Once inside, she pauses to draw several deep, steadying breaths. It's overwhelming to think that this is now her reality, teetering on the brink of exposure.

She eventually finds herself falling off the edge when she discovers Natasha’s email on your laptop, mere moments after the crushing realization that you hadn’t bothered to open her gift.

Her instinct is to craft a lie. She searches her mind rapidly, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for the intimate handhold. Maybe she could say it was an old friend from the past, or perhaps a distressed student she was comforting. But one glance at the photo and she knows, deep down, that any excuse would fall flat. The way Vision looks at her, with such unmistakable affection and wonder, betrays any innocence she might claim. Trying to explain this to you or anyone else would be an exercise in futility.

Wanda had played out various scenarios in her mind about how you might discover the truth, but she never imagined it would be through seeking the expertise of your best friend. It was perhaps naive, but she had hoped you wouldn’t notice anything or, if you did, that you'd confront her about it.

But why would you come to her? She's been pushing you away for months, and the only time she truly showed you how much you mean to her was when she was so relieved that she wouldn't be carrying the consequences of her indiscretions in her womb.

In case you need them, the subject of the email says. Need them for what? Wanda wonders. From the way Natasha worded the message accompanying the photos, it doesn't appear you're just discovering the truth now.

No, it seems that you’ve known for a while. Which means—

The pieces fall into place, a chilling realization creeping over her. Wanda's breath catches as she pushes the laptop away, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. The way you had carried yourself, especially around the police—it was far too serene, too measured. When they mentioned Vision's name, you didn't so much as flinch or even show a flicker of surprise.

Her heart beats painfully against her ribs. The calm demeanor, the calculated way you’d been moving about—it wasn't out of ignorance. You knew. And for how long? The thought terrifies her. How many days or weeks has she been living this lie while you watched, silently knowing everything?

Your silence, amplifying her betrayal, eats away at her conscience. The quiet before the storm, she thinks. And she's right in the middle of it.

“Wanda?”

She’s hiding in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, practicing a smile and a thousand more expressions even though she's barely holding it together.

“Wanda.”

She couldn't shake the thought of you knowing. Did you have any involvement in Vision's accident? You've never intentionally hurt even the smallest creature, let alone another human being, right?

“Wanda!”

She nearly leaps out of her skin as the bathroom door slams open, and you stare back at her, looking just as startled and taken aback.

“Hey,” she says, forcing a smile.

You narrow your eyes at her, and she shivers under your intense scrutiny.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in here for almost an hour.”

Wanda nods quickly. “I'm fine.”

You continue to watch her for a moment, before saying, “Alright.”

Just as you're about to step away, Wanda remembers the plans for later. “About the dinner tonight,” she starts hesitantly, “with your colleagues from the bank... should we cancel?”

She's desperately hoping you'd say yes. She can't bear not knowing what's going on in your mind. The way you act as if everything's normal is suffocating her. Does she even still know the real you? Every moment you're not cursing her out or confronting her betrayal feels like an eternity.

But you shake your head. “No, let's do it. We already promised them.”

Wanda's heart sinks a little, but she nods in understanding.

“I'll go grab some wine real quick,” you say before leaving the bathroom, leaving Wanda alone once again with her thoughts.

Later, as the last of the guests leave, she's certain you've picked up on her distress, noticing how you kept glancing at your watch and drifting out of conversations. She senses your gaze on her as she escorts Scott and his wife to the car, acutely aware you're observing her every move from the bedroom window.

Though they're older than both you and Wanda, they've only been hitched for two years. Wanda can't help but wonder if maybe things are smoother for them because they waited to get married. But then a familiar warmth washes over her. The memory of how deeply in love she was with you surfaces. Even if you had waited six years to propose, she’s sure that had you suggested it within the first few months of dating, she would've said yes in a heartbeat.

Truth be told, she doesn't regret it now, the timing of it, and everything in between.

All she's uncertain of is how tonight will unfold.

The house lies shrouded in an inky stillness, almost like it’s holding its breath. She carefully climbs the stairs to the bedroom you both share, one uncertain step at a time. The door is slightly open, and you're standing by the window, your silhouette thin and brittle.

“What happened, Y/N?” she asks as she stops a few feet from you. Your eyes are closed, and your body trembles. Though she should be consumed by fear, her only desire is for you to open your eyes, hoping to find the person she fell in love with over a decade ago still there.

“What did you do? Did you cause his ‘accident’?” she continues. But you remain silent, unmoving. “Y/N?”

Still, nothing. Wanda is slowly but surely losing her sanity.

“Did you hurt him? You did, didn’t you? Jesus, Y/N. Talk to me,” Wanda pleads, and then out of desperation she screams, “Tell me what you did!”

“No!” You roar with a primal intensity, reminiscent of a wounded animal in the wild, and the sheer force of it makes Wanda recoil. But she doesn't move away from you. Not at this crucial moment, when she senses how close she is to losing you. “You tell me what you did!”

You stalk towards her menacingly, until you're mere breaths away, and Wanda wants to reach out and touch you, but she knows she'll be burned.

“How you fucked him over and over and over! How you lied to me… over and over and over,” you tell her brokenly.

“Y/N, please–”

“Don’t. You don’t get to talk to me now,” you say, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “You didn’t think I’d know? I wouldn’t feel it? I knew from the very first night. Because I know you, Wanda. Every thought. Every look. Every fiber of your being. I know you and I fucking hate you! I didn’t want to hurt him, I wanted to hurt you!”

The confirmation she's been dreading, along with the murderous glint in your eyes, saps the color from Wanda’s face. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, hand clamping over her mouth in horror. “Y/N…”

You try to walk away, but your legs give out, and you crumple to the ground, knees first, like a puppet with its strings cut. The tears flow freely now, unburdened by pride or anger. A raw, guttural sob escapes your lips, echoing the pain in your chest. Wanda, too, collapses, a mirror reflection of your despair, her body shaking as sobs rack her frame.

How could she have ever been afraid of you, especially knowing what you've been through? Beneath it all, she sees the woman she deeply loves, now appearing so fragile and torn apart, all because of her own mistakes. “I'm so sorry...” she whispers, her apology a mere drop in the ocean of hurt between you.

“Was there anyone else aside from him?” you ask suddenly, looking at the carpeted floor before you.

“No,” Wanda answers earnestly.

You offer a wry smile. “He must be really special then.”

She frantically shakes her head. He's not. No one is. It's always been—

“Do you love him?”

“No,” Wanda responds hastily, almost too hastily for your taste. And by the look on your face, she's crushed by the realization that no matter what she says next, your trust in her words may be irrevocably broken. “I thought I did, but no,” she admits. She can't bear the thought of deceiving you further and aims to leave no question unanswered.

“Did you…” you start, staring intently at the ceiling, and Wanda knows exactly what you’re asking even before it comes out of your mouth. The fact that you have to ask leaves her utterly heartbroken.

“...ever love me?”

This was her doing. The very second she acted on impulse and succumbed to temptation was when she truly lost you.

“I love you,” Wanda murmurs, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours, stubborn for her words to reach you. “I know how fucked up that sounds to you right now. But I do, I love you, Y/N.”

“You love me?” your voice falters, making you wince. “You have a truly unique way of showing it.”

How does she prove it? How can she make you believe? Wanda scrambles for tactics, for miracles, for a do-over.

“After all this,” you continue, “you might as well have killed me. Being dead might be painless compared to this.”

“Baby, please don't say that,” Wanda's voice breaks, choked by tears she can't hold back. She feels the urge to reach out, her fingers itching to touch you.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore. Even hearing you say my name makes me sick.” Your voice is steady, each word dripping with cold resentment.

“You can stay,” you say after a while. Wanda senses a fragile hint of hope blossoming within her. But it's quickly crushed when you add, “Stay in this house, for as long as you need. But I'm leaving.”

And it’s here where the panic sets in. The realization that she's on the brink of losing you entirely, not just emotionally but physically as well, hits Wanda like a freight train. The walls of the room seem to close in on her, and the weight of her decisions and mistakes press heavily on her shoulders, making her feel as if she's sinking.

“No,” she whispers. “Please, don't go.”

You start to slide your wedding ring off, and that’s when Wanda loses it. She launches herself at you, capturing your lips into a heated kiss. In the split-second it takes for the golden loop to slip off your finger, a flood of memories rushes over Wanda—the scent of rain as it patters on the roof of the reception, the song playing in the background as you and Wanda sway to your first dance as a married couple, the warmth of your hand intertwined with hers. Those fragments play in a demented, rapid slideshow, and time stretches and contracts, maddeningly so.

For Wanda, it feels like someone's drilled a hole in the base of her skull, letting all the sorrow rush in like a merciless flood. Everything else is white noise. For that brief instant when her lips slot against yours, you don’t push her away. Wanda pours everything she has into this kiss, hoping you'll feel her truth in it. But then, before she even has the chance to deepen it, you’re pulling away and it’s—

It’s over.

Stubborn as always, Wanda tries to hide in your neck, and you feel her tears sliding down your throat. She clings to you with all her might, holding on for as long as she can. But when she feels you gently place your wedding ring into her palm, her face crumples with a pain so profound, she knows she may never recover from it. And then you begin to rise, lifting yourself from the floor. As she instinctively clings to your leg, you take another step, causing Wanda to stumble forward from the sudden loss of support.

“This can't be the end. It just can't,” Wanda murmurs to herself like a mantra, as if repeating it will change the course of reality. She's almost certain you hear her, but it doesn't change your stride; you just keep walking away.

The ring burns in her palm, a searing reminder that her promise of loving and cherishing you always means nothing to you now.

Wanda can't quite figure out how, but you've chosen to remain in the guest bedroom for the evening. She'd heard the engine of your car roar to life, but then it fell silent after just a few moments. Peering out, she’d seen you stepping out of the car, phone pressed to your ear.

Who had you been talking to? An intense curiosity had consumed Wanda, making her wonder who had been on the other end of that call. In the short window they'd been estranged—no, just temporarily separated, because Wanda refused to believe that you'd entirely lost your affection for her—could there have been someone else? Someone waiting in line for their turn?

Now, she stands hesitantly in front of the guest bedroom door, hands clenched in her sides, torn between giving you space and continuing to fight for her marriage. She's torn, but not clueless. It's not just about barging in or holding back; it's about the aftermath. She stands there, frozen, trying to figure out which move won't blow everything to smithereens. Because the time she has with you is running out and there might not be a tomorrow.

Or a you and her. Ever again.

Wanda finally sinks to the floor, her back flush against the cold, indifferent wood of the door. Sparky, pads over, his little claws making almost no sound against the floor. He nestles himself on her lap, making his bed there for the night. She wraps her fingers around his soft fur, his warmth seeping into her, but his presence is a double-edged sword. As much as she adores him, he's going to be the only thing of you she gets to keep, and it's going to be a painful reminder from here on out.

In an act of despair, she presses an ear flat against the door, searching for the tiniest murmur, the faintest shuffle. Anything to tell her what's happening on the other side of this barrier. A barrier that was never there before. She's on the outside, and the thought that you're moving on, building a life sans her, is terrifying.

It's a cruel irony, she realizes. Here she is, just a few inches from you, yet completely and utterly in the dark. And so, she sits, hoping against hope, that at some point during the night, she'd hear the door creak open, and you’d scoop her in your arms and take her back.

She waits, because that's what love does—it waits, even in the darkest of times.

The next morning, Wanda wakes up, surprised to find herself in a bed instead of on the hard, cold floor. She doesn't recall making the trip, but the idea that you cared enough to ensure she slept on something warm and comfortable almost makes her heart leap out of her chest.

However, her happiness is short-lived as she opens the closet and discovers that some of your things are missing. To a stranger, the differences wouldn't be obvious, but she knows which shirt and trousers you chose, and she understands the implication. It means you won't be returning tonight, and perhaps not tomorrow either. When she goes to the bathroom, she finds only one toothbrush, and that's enough to make tears well up in her swollen eyes once more.

“Thanks for picking up,” Wanda says, her fingers gripping the phone tight, holding onto it like she’s drowning and it’s her only lifeline.

“Well, you've called enough times. Figured I'd give you a break,” Natasha's voice, though distant, is biting, as frigid as the coldness that Wanda has been feeling in her bones these past days.

“I need to know where she is. Please.”

A sigh on the other end, followed by a chilling silence. “You think after everything, you still have the right to know her whereabouts?”

“She's still my wife,” Wanda counters, but it’s weak.

“She was your wife,” Natasha fires back, unrelenting. “The last I checked, people who love their partners don't sleep with college kids.”

The words hit Wanda harder than any physical blow could. She's taken aback, gasping for air as if she's been sucker-punched.

“I—”

“She loved you,” Natasha continues ruthlessly, “more than you ever deserved. And you threw it away, for what? Some fleeting thrill?”

Loved? Past tense? Had Natasha just assumed—

Or was that word coming directly from you?

Pushing down the slightest twinge of sympathy that threatens to surface, Natasha picks up on Wanda's faint, broken breaths on the other end. She can tell Wanda's on the verge, and it's familiar, too familiar. It's almost exactly the sound she caught when she was on the phone with you the other night.

“I never meant for this to happen,” Wanda barely manages to say.

“Well, it did,” Natasha snaps, her voice cold. “Intentions don’t change actions. And actions have consequences.”

Wanda’s voice comes off a little strong this time, thick with conviction. “Maybe I deserve this, Natasha. Maybe it’s my time to pay for all the wrongs I’ve done.”

“You think?” Natasha scoffs.

“But you... you’ll never get it. You’ll never understand why I can’t just let go, why I can’t give up on her,” Wanda says.

“And why’s that?”

Wanda's voice trembles with the knowledge that what she's about to say is a cheap blow. “Because you've never been married. You've never committed yourself to someone in the way I have with her.”

That stings, and Natasha can feel her own anger rising.

“Don’t think for a second that just because I’m not married, I don’t understand commitment, pain, or betrayal,” she says, voice low and measured.

Wanda swallows hard. “I didn't mean to—”

“Of course you didn't. But here we are, yet again,” Natasha cuts her off. She sighs, leaning back in her chair, “I’m not telling you where she is. She needs time, Wanda. Time away from you. If she wants to talk, she’ll find you.”

That's the last thing Wanda wants. She worries that distance will solidify your resolve, turning her from an immediate regret to a distant afterthought.

“I need to see her, Natasha,” Wanda pleads, “Just tell me where she is.”

“Why? So you can make things even worse?”

After a tense pause, Wanda plays her last card, “Remember that night after we all went out? The night you and Bruce...” she trails off, not needing to complete the sentence.

Natasha stiffens, instantly knowing where this is headed. “Don’t you dare, Wanda.”

Wanda forges on, “I never told anyone, never used it against you. I kept your secret. You owe me, Natasha.”

The feeling of Bruce's hand against her cheek, the humiliation, the denial—all of it comes rushing back. She never thought Wanda would throw that night back in her face.

“You're really going there?” Natasha laughs hollowly.

“I’m desperate, Natasha. I love her. I can’t lose her,” Wanda’s voice breaks.

The line goes quiet, stretching seconds into what seems like hours. Finally, Natasha exhales heavily, the weight of the decision clear in her tone. “I'll give you an address. Show up, try to talk to her, but if she asks you to leave, you respect her wishes. Understand?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She knows Natasha can enforce her terms if she wants, which means she has no other choice but to comply. “Understood.”

Natasha's parting words would later linger in her mind for hours.

“This doesn't mean I've forgiven you or that she ever will. But you get your shot. Make it count.”

Wanda’s been standing outside the diner for what feels like a long time. She hopes her outfit—a parka over a crisp white v-neck and high-waisted jeans—makes a good impression. A glance in the reflection of the diner’s window confirms her red hair looks glossy and radiant, cascading in waves down her back.

Time and time again, Wanda had turned over every conceivable strategy to win you back. But in the end, they all hinged on the one thing she feared most: agreeing to a divorce. The very thought threatened to break her from the inside, but her desperation to make things right, to show you that she's changed, made this painful decision a necessary one. Wanda had taken so much from you, taken everything you had to offer and discarded it carelessly. Now, it was her turn to give something back, even if it meant letting you go, legally.

She tells herself, repeatedly, that their love story isn't defined by a marriage certificate. They won't end just because their marriage does. She had to believe this; it was the only way she could find the strength to move forward.

Steeling herself, Wanda takes one step forward. Another. Until finally, she’s there.

“Hey,” Wanda greets, doing her best to sound casual as she slides into the booth opposite you.

You give a nonchalant nod, mouth full of your Reuben sandwich. “Hi, Wanda.”

The scent of your cologne is the first thing that hits her, and it’s... different. This one's sharper, crisper, with a hint of citrus, perhaps. It's as if you're purposely shedding parts of yourself that she's grown accustomed to, distancing yourself in the most elemental ways. There's a new watch on your wrist, sleeker than the one she gifted you on your last anniversary. Even the way you hold yourself seems altered, shoulders squared and posture more rigid. Every detail screams of a transformation, a conscious effort to morph into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But why? To hurt her? To move on? To forget? All of the above? It's been just a week, yet the differences are already evident. Wanda dreads to think how much more will change if she goes months without seeing you.

This isn’t going to be easy, and that’s putting it mildly. “Sorry for cornering you like this. You rarely return my calls and it’s been almost impossible to match our schedules,” Wanda admits.

You concentrate on chewing your food, trying to appear perfectly disinterested in what she’s saying. As you take another bite of your sandwich, Wanda studies her intently, looking for any fleeting sign of emotion, but there’s nothing there but a chilling detachment.

“Natasha told me you’re already talking to divorce lawyers,” she continues. She's woken up next to you for more than a decade; she’s not easily deterred by the display of indifference. “If you’re decided that it’s what you really want, then I’ll give it to you. I’ll cooperate.”

“Okay.”

Wanda notices the fleeting moment your eyes dart to her left ring finger before you quickly look away.

“I, uh, got something for you,” she says.

“No, thanks.”

Wanda’s heart sinks as you dismiss her before even knowing what it is. Determined, she pulls out the small ring box and places it on the table, feeling a pang in her chest. “But it belongs to you,” she murmurs.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your wedding ring,” she says, pointing out what you already know. Your expression darkens, frustrated that she misses the underlying meaning of your question—not about the ring itself, but rather its significance right now.

For a split second, Wanda harbored a fragile hope that seeing the ring might stir something within you.

But then you're shaking your head, beginning to say, “I don’t want—”

“I understand,” she says, her shoulders sagging as she leans back into the booth. “But I'm returning it to you, and I’m keeping mine. What you decide to do with it is up to you. However, holding onto it on your behalf isn't something I can do.”

The ring she slipped onto your finger five years ago held all her promises, all her devotion to you. So it hurt that you no longer accepted that, no longer recognized it as yours. And she didn't want to be the guardian of that pain anymore.

“Fine,” you say, reaching for the tiny box and Wanda releases a heavy sigh of relief.

“So, you've got your ring back, and I'll sign the divorce papers once they're drawn up,” she says, mustering all her courage for what she's going to say next. “And then, I'll come for you.”

She watches in surprise as you nearly spit out your coffee, a few droplets escaping past your lips. As you hurriedly reach for a napkin, Wanda can't help but offer a gentle smile, always finding your occasional clumsiness endearing even in the middle of breaking her heart.

Your wide-eyed stare meets hers, speechless.

Her smile fades slightly, replaced by a melancholic self-awareness. “I didn’t want to believe you when you told me that night that you hated me. But I guess that’s better than indifference.”

“I don't hate you, Wanda,” you say. She can tell you're telling the truth, and she smiles a little at that.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” she laments. “Thank you.”

She takes a deep breath, knowing she needs to be clear, to lay everything on the table. “I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. On us. What we have, and I’ve thought a lot about it, is something I’ll never find in another.”

“I’m not telling you this to get a reaction out of you,” she continues, “I know you’re not exactly thrilled at the idea of me pursuing you, but,” she falters, the first sign of her vulnerability. “This time, I want you to know everything. I don’t want you to be blindsided by my intentions, so I’m giving you a heads-up.”

“Wands,” you say, the nickname slipping effortlessly from your lips, and she has to fight the instinctual urge to reach for your hand across the table. “You can’t torture yourself like this.”

“I’m not,” she assures you. “I just refuse to give up on my dream.” She senses the skepticism in your eyes, and she can't blame you, not after everything that happened in the recent weeks. You’re my dream, Wanda had confidently and lovingly written in her vows. The memory of that day, with the weight of those words, is as vivid in your mind as it is in hers.

She's always been the type to hold onto what she loves, never letting go without a fight. But seeing the dark circles under your eyes, the sunken weight of your cheeks, she knows the very sight of her is taking a toll on you. And so, she’s leaving, for your sake.

“I'll see you soon,” Wanda says, getting up to leave. She hesitates for a moment, considering whether to go for your cheek, if you'll allow her. However, the lack of response from you pushes her to take small, shaky steps toward the door and out of the restaurant.

It isn’t over. Wanda’s made up her mind: she won't give up on you. Maybe she's the villain in this story; and hell, there's probably someone out there, all primed and polished, perfectly poised to love you without the scars and rough edges. Except, she doesn’t care, even if she knows she’ll be diving headfirst into the storm.

She swears that someday she'll be on her knees, asking you to marry her again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #natasha romanoff #vision

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the-travelling-witch · 6 months

Text

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

Character Choice: Leviathan x Fem! Reader

Stats: nsfw/ minors dni, jealous/ possessive! levi, cream pies, monster/tail fucking, mean dom! levi, levi with two cocks, degradation/ name calling, marking, double penetration, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), hint of/ alllusion to exhibitionism towards the end

Profile: It’s not fair! Why do his stupid brothers get to hog your attention all the time? He’ll make sure you’ll pay attention to him and only him. You’re not leaving his room for quite a while; there’s lots of fun stuff Levi wants to try with you. And when you do limp out of his room, his brothers will certainly get the message.

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

obey me masterlist || sfw version

You had been playing video games with Levi for a while now, comfortably sitting in his lap with his chin resting on your head. And so far, everything had been super relaxed. That was until the credits rolled and Levi’s focus started to drift from the screen to you, inhaling the comforting scent of your hair products.

Just for the stench of his brothers to fill his nostrils, clinging to you just as stubbornly as the actual demons. It made him livid, imagining Asmo hanging off your arm, Satan holding you close as he read to you or Belphie using your lap as his personal napping spot. You should be spending time with him!

Before he knew it, pure jealousy was coursing through his veins and his form shifted. Coral-like horns perched on his head like a crown as a scaled tail wrapped around your ankle, slowly winding upwards. His hands, which had held the controller up until now, gripped your hips tightly as he tried to control his breathing.

You’d felt Levi’s envy often enough through the pact linking you two together. Whether it was losing the bid on a figurine he wanted or seeing someone else with the character he tried to get, the feeling wasn’t new to you. But this time, the sensation was overwhelming, his pact mark on your body searing with his jealousy. Normally, you could console him easily enough but right now you weren’t so sure.

“Levi? Levi are you alright? What’s wrong?” you questioned, one hand coming up to thread into his purple locks as you tried to shift so you could face him. Only to be stopped by his iron grip. You could, however, get a glimpse of his orange-flashing eyes, pupils merely slits. “Levi, I’m worried-”

“Oh, now you care?” His tone was cold and sent shivers down your spine, rare determination falling from every word. “What’s wrong, you ask? Maybe it’s the fact that you’re always so busy cosying up to all my brothers. Even that scumbag gets more of your attention than I do.”

Levi knew deep inside that wasn’t true. You always spent plenty of time with him. Then, Lucifer’s cologne tickled his nose and he lost all sense of rationality, thoughts only fueled by his sin. When he spoke again, his words were like pure venom dripping from his fangs. “Did you have fun? Letting them get their grimey hands all over you?”

“No, Levi, I-” You interrupted yourself with a sudden gasp as sharp teeth sank into the column of your neck, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to leave a nasty, very visible mark. Still, you couldn’t help but grind yourself back on him, feeling his prominent bulge against your ass. You almost drooled at the inhuman size of him, mind wandering to how good he’d stretch you open on that.

“Enjoying yourself?” He hissed while pressing you down harder, rubbing himself against your clothed pussy. Searching for something to ground yourself with, you reached back and dug your fingers into his hair as you rolled your head back to give Levi more access to your neck. “Look at you, you’re actually getting off to this. You’re so easy, no wonder demons like you so much.”

Much to your embarrassment, you could feel the arousal staining your panties at his harsh words. There was no use denying it, this side of your usually timid Levi was heavily turning you on, so much so that you could feel yourself pulsing against the straining material of his sweats. Somehow, that realisation just made you squirm against him more, searching desperately for any sort of friction.

It came in the form of his tail flicking forcefully against your core, not enough to seriously hurt you but definitely hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. Levi took advantage of your moan to tip your head back and shove his forked tongue down your throat. At the same time, his clawed hands roughly groped your breasts over your RAD dress shirt, certainly leaving red marks for you to find later. Apparently that wasn’t enough for the demon though, carelessly ripping the material apart and making buttons roll over the floor of his room.

Your bra was next. Although he didn’t destroy it, he merely pulled it down enough to where your breasts could spill over the cups, further driving home the point that this wasn’t about you. This was only for him and his pleasure.

As his fingers meanly pulled at your nipples, tweaking the little buds and rolling them between his digits, his tail had stopped prodding at your slit and instead slithered under the waistband of your bottoms. With it pressed against your body like that, it really had no option but to rub over your clit as it reached for your undergarments.

Just when you thought Levi would really have you ruin your clothes, he pushed them off your legs to give his tail free reign to work. As the appendage curled around the seat of your panties to pull them off as well, it grazed your folds and you lightly jerked in your demon’s hold.

Said demon had gone back to biting and licking at your neck, his eyes following the string of arousal sticking to your underwear with rapt attention. The fact that he could reduce you to this state so easily was definitely an ego boost but he was nowhere near satiated with just this.

“I think it’s time I remind you who you really belong to,” he snarled, voice bitter as he could still smell them on you. “Once I’m done with you, nobody will ever forget it again.”

Without so much as a warning, Levi plunged the end of his tail into your soaked core, earning something between a shriek and a moan from you. The initial clamp down of your walls around his scales drew a shaky groan from him in return, squeezing your tits harder in his palms.

His tail was curling and uncurling inside of you in unreadable patterns as he stretched you out gradually. The texture of his cold scales was something you never grew used to as they scraped against your warm walls, the tip effortlessly hitting spots you never knew you had.

In record time, Levi had you writhing and squirming in his lap and he chose to make it worse by slipping one hand down your front to ruthlessly tap your pulsing clit. The noises you made drove him nearly insane with lust but he willed himself to patience, as far as that was still possible.

“That’s it, you’re gonna cum,” he all but ordered, fingers and tail pressing down on the same spot on opposite sides of your walls. “And your orgasm is gonna be all mine, you got that?”

“Yes, Levi,” you whined, eyes screwed shut and fingers tightening around his wrist and his purple locks.

“Then do it,” he spoke directly against your ear.

You straightened in his hold as lightning shot up your spine, the thicker part of his tail keeping your legs nicely spread while he flicked his fingers harsher against your clit.

Then, your bones turned to pudding as you weightlessly leaned back against Levi’s clothed chest, feeling your release leak around his tail. You tried to control your breathing with little success. A hand swept sweat matted hair out of your eyes while a second one ran up and down your side to provide a familiar comfort.

But soon, your world shifted as you fell forward, your fall only cushioned by a hand on your chest before your cheek met one of Levi’s many pillows, which had previously not laid there. Behind you, the demon rose to his knees as well, his thighs colliding with your ass.

You whined as the movements of his tail started again, much slower than before though. He shushed you almost gently, yet when you pushed yourself up on weak arms to look back at him, one hand firmly pressed your upper back onto the floor again.

“Be good and behave.” Levi’s cold voice made you shiver in the best way possible and this time he could feel the way you clamped down on him at his command. “Seriously, I thought between us I was the perv but seeing you let me use you like this without any resistance makes me question that.”

There was rustling of clothes to be heard and you almost protested the withdrawal of his tail but the pressure of his pre cum leaking cocks against you shut you right up. No matter how often you two got frisky, you wondered every time how they were supposed to fit.

As much as Levi wanted to see you choke on his cock while attempting to wrap your hand around the other, he was far too impatient. He needed to stretch you open now.

Aligning the head of his upper dick, he heaved a sigh before pushing in. Just feeling your heat around the tip made him lightheaded but before he could get carried away, he remembered why you two were in this position in the first place.

In one single thrust, the demon filled you to the brim, knocking all air from your lungs as you were shoved into the pillow. Despite having two members to work with, taking just one was still quite the challenge. It hurt but at the same time it felt so good.

With his demeanour that night, you thought he’d set a ruthless pace from the start but he surprised you with tempered and measured thrusts, aiming for depth rather than speed. Your shoulders tensed up when you felt his tail return, this time however circling your other hole.

“Levi-“

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this, I can feel that messy cunt of yours gripping me even tighter.” And he was right. Just the imagination of Levi using his tail, which was still coated in your previous release, to prepare you for what was inevitably to come had you bounce your hips back on him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re supposed to be my master, yet you’re acting more like a bitch in heat, already going dumb on my cock.”

Apparently now it was time for your bra to leave the scene completely as Levi fumbled with the clasp for a second before carelessly throwing it somewhere into his room.

The fact that he was still fully clothed whereas you were completely nude made you feel excitingly exposed, fire burning through your body at the thought of Levi just having your way with you like this.

It should have been embarrassing how your pussy squelched with his cock inside, how fast you were approaching another orgasm, but with Levi leaning more of his weight onto you as he seemed to reach deeper in both your cunt and ass, you were more concerned with trying to sustain your lungs with enough air.

Well, it wasn’t like you had to tell him you were close anyway. The way it got harder to move in and out or the way your legs started trembling gave you away. With his cocks hitting your g-spot and clit on every forward motion as your walls were sandwiched on both sides between him, it was clear you’d reach your peak sooner rather than later.

Your high pitched moans echoed around the room and Levi’s guttoral groans soon joined as he starved off his own release to fuck you through yours. At this point, your vision turned hazy but you couldn’t help but want more. And more you should get.

Through the fog of your mind, you barely registered the moment of emptiness and Levi’s biting words were drowned out by your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears. What you did notice was the sensation of two cocks stuffing you to your limit, both heads throbbing with a desperate need to just stuff you full of his cum.

The view of you on your elbows and knees, back arched and fingers a death grip on his pillow rushed directly to his head and to his dicks. He was the one who had reduced to such a pathetically fucked out state, unable to speak any coherent sentences. Not his brothers.

“Do you just whore yourself out to everyone?” Sharp claws were dancing up your spine, the layer of sweat reflecting the blue light of his room. The thought of his brothers getting just a glimpse of you like this made his earlier rage flare up again.

“N-No,” you whimpered meekly.

“No? Just the demons you know?” His still clothed chest met your back as his hands held your hips in an iron grip, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. His fangs were grazing your skin again, searching for a new spot to leave his mark on. “If Mammon were here, would you let him fuck this messy cunt of yours, hm? Would you gag on Belphie’s cock like a slut, yeah? Let him push your head down as he pleases?”

You didn’t answer this time, not that he really expected you to. Normally, Levi might have intertwined your fingers or pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. But not on this day.

“C’mon, you can be louder than that, slut.” Purple coloured nails tangled in your hair and pulled your head up. “Let everyone in this house who’s fucking you this good.”

Nothing he had to tell you twice. You felt so full, every sensitive spot you could think of and all those you didn’t know you had were being abused over and over again.

What had you screaming and scrambling for purchase was the pain of his fangs piercing the skin of your shoulder as his tail wrapped around your middle, the tip resting dangerously close to your sensitive clit after dragging through the slick mess staining your thighs.

“You’re close again, right?” That was when his tail started circling your pulsing nub and your eyes flew open as the knot in your stomach started pulling you into opposite directions once more. “That’s right, you're just a little toy for me to use, aren’t you? Just an obedient cocksleeve waiting to get stuffed.”

To emphasise his point, your expression was reflected back to you on one of his shiny consoles, eyes fluttering open and shut as your tongue lolled out and drool dripped from your lips, head still pulled back.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Levi cursed out of breath, cocks twitching against your walls as the slapping of skin picked up in speed. Letting your head fall forward again, both hands gripped your hips tightly, nails nicking your skin.

“I’m so close, please I can’t—“ You couldn’t decide if you were begging to cum or to rest.

Your demon made the choice for you. He drew quicker circles on your abused clit, pressing his scales down harsher, which had your toes curling and your hips trying to wind away from the assault.

“Stop squirming!” Pulling your hips back to meet his strokes, you weren’t sure if Levi was trying to make you cum again or if he was just selfishly chasing his own release with all means possible. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’ll be a good human and not waste a drop. Once we’re done, you’ll only smell like me!”

Mindlessly nodding your head, you fell over the edge with a scream of his name, shuddering and jerking as his pace didn’t slow at all. Maybe it was because you were so out of it but you could swear you could feel his cocks swell before his hips stuttered and he painted your walls white with a throaty groan.

There was no chance you could ever keep all of his cum inside, no matter how deep he shot it. You were pretty sure no human could ever cum this much.

For a few minutes there was nothing but panting to be heard before he finally pulled out, the bite marks on your shoulders pulsing as the adrenaline wore off. Levi stared as his cum leaked out of you and ran down your trembling thighs, collecting the drops with the tip of his tail before pushing them back into you. You moaned weakly at the clench of your overstimulated walls around the appendage but just as you were wondering whether you could handle another round, the chime of your phones echoed through Levi’s room.

Satan @ House of Lamentation (New): Dinner in 5, get down here

Just as you were about to push yourself up on shaky arms, Levi’s hand on your upper back kept your chest on the floor.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time, we need to get cleaned up,” you protested.

Without a word, Levi wrangled your ankles into your panties again and slid them back up your thighs. Snapping the waistband, he gave your clothed cunt a final slap and innerly gloated at the way your combined release was soaking the already ruined fabric.

With widened eyes, you looked back over your shoulder to see if he was serious only to find him staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes, daring you to challenge him.

“I told you, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

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hotchsofficialwifey · 6 months

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okay hear me out... mike schmidt with goth!fem!reader (be warned: i'm not goth so this might not be very accurate lol)

he met you while he was working at the mall, eyed you from across hot topic. despite your intimidating black clothes, chains, and eye makeup, you had one of the sweetest smiles he'd ever seen, instantly drawing him to you. you said good morning to the worker with one of those perfect smiles and he immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.

he started hanging out at the hot topic more frequently. he began to pick up on your schedule, too. you'd usually come on Saturday's between 12-3pm, circle through the food court and your favorite stores (one time he even caught you at Victoria's Secret, but didn't go in, for obvious reasons). he felt a little creepy, but it wasn't like he was stalking you, just keeping you safe (this was his bullshit excuse). some part of you was simply magnetic, pulling him in like a siren, wrapping him around your finger so tightly he never wanted to be let go.

after a few weeks or so of this same routine, he got fired for beating up a man in broad daylight, and had to get a shitty job at Fazbear's Pizzeria. the only part of that job he missed was you, but his yearning would soon come to an end. he went on various apps, websites, whatever he could to find a babysitter for abby while he was at work, when he found your profile on one of the apps. you were around his age, lived in the same town, and were looking for a job as a babysitter. perfect! he got in contact with you shortly after, and you were fast to reply. you set up a day, time and location, and the next night you were there, knocking on his door.

it was as if the closer he got to you, the prettier you were. pink lips overlined with black liner, flared black jeans paired with a Siouxsie and The Banshees t-shirt, eyeliner so sharp it could probably poke him and black converse covered in doodles. you were more casual than usual, obviously, but god, you were beautiful. you hit him with one of your dazzling smiles, introduced yourself to him and abby (abby instantly liked you), and he went off to work, the scent of your sandalwood perfume on his mind.

you got closer over the months you babysat abby. he came home early in the morning, but you always made breakfast (not only were you beautiful, but amazingly sweet). he didn't pay you as consistently as you originally hoped he would, but you were begin to grow a crush on him, so you didn't really mind. it got to the point where you two even exchanged numbers, using work as an excuse, but you mostly talked and sent memes to each other. but what he admired most about you is how good you were with abby. you guys drew together, watched cartoons together, laughed together, you even did tarot readings for her. abby would fill him in on every little detail of your night together, start to finish. she adored you, and you adored her, which only made him fall harder for you.

the love confession was unexpected, but really sweet. he had invited you over for dinner before he went to work, which he often did, but after you put abby to bed and sat down on the couch with him...

"thanks for everything you do for us." he blurted suddenly. your face suddenly felt very warm, and you bashfully replied.

"it's no big deal, really. i like spending time with abby..." fuck it, you thought. "and with you." you stared at each other for a moment, tension in the air, before he kissed you. slowly, softly, easing you into it. it got heated quickly, and one thing left to another, and he was forty minutes late for work (but it was so worth it).

a/n: okay, this wasn't as focused on the goth part as I wanted it to be, but wtvr. i'll be doing headcannons for goth!reader later!! for now, here's some backstory lol

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 3 months

Text

Not A Hero Just A Good Man

Simon Riley x Reader (probably ooc) Simon's home from deployment and he needs his spouse Fluff and very slight hurt/comfort Should be gn!reader, if I messed up anywhere please tell me There is mentions of a girly bodywash that is owned by the reader but... anyone can own those

"I need you to understand that I'm not the nice one out there, luv. I'm not the good cop. I'm not the hero."

You're sitting next to Simon on your shared bed, he's still in his gear, but his mask is in his hands and he's absent mindedly grabbing and rubbing at it.

"Luv, if you knew only half the stuff I've done. The absolute horrendous things I've done to people. And I'd do them again. And I will do them again."

He's growing distressed. His brows are drawn together and his rubbing over the skull part becomes harsh. He'll hurt himself at this rate.

So you get up and kneel down before him, force yourself into his view. Your hands oh so gently take the mask from his and the care with which you put it onto his nightstand chokes Simon up.

You slip your hands into his. He's still wearing his gloves, there's blood all over them.

As he looks down and sees your delicate, perfect hands in his blodied hold, the tears start gathering. He's trying to pull his hands away but you grip him harder. His glistening eyes find yours.

"I didn't marry a hero, Simon. I didn't marry someone who has a nice job or lives in a nice reality."

He's looking to the side trying to avoid your gaze. His hands are still limp in yours, refusing to hold onto you when there's still the gore of his actions clinging to his clothes and his skin.

You're gently easing the gloves off his hands and let them fall to the floor. His knuckles are bloody and split, even under the protective layer.

He swears he lets loose a sob when you bend down to press two soft kisses to the palms of his hands. He's ripping his hands away from you, cradling them to his chest.

"No.", your harsh tone makes his gaze snap back to yours again and when you grab his hands again he reluctantly lets you have them.

"Don't you dare look away from me, Simon Riley." You can see how hard he has to fight to obey your words. You can see his panting breaths get harsher and your grip is so soft, that if he truly didn't want to have you touching him, he could pull away. As if you could ever hold him against his will.

You take one of his hands and press it against your chest, deliberately drawing in deep and steady breaths and waiting until he is following your example.

"I didn't marry a hero, Simon. I married a good man."

You can audibly hear him gulp.

"I married a good man, who is willing to do the ugly work. I married a good man, who gets his hands dirty so the world is just a tiny bit cleaner."

His entire focus is on you as he hangs on to every word you say.

"I married a good man, who does horrible things. But those things need to be done. I'd rather have a good man, like my husband, do them, than someone who doesn't care at all. Someone who finds joy in them. I married a good man. And when you come home, blodied and bruised I will still love you. And when you come home after you did the worst imaginable things, things I don't even know possible, I'll still love you. And when you do horrendous things again, I will still love you. I love you."

He's looking at you and the tears catch in his eyelashes like soft morning dew on the most intricate petals. You have never seen a man more beautiful than your Simon. You have never seen anything more beautiful than the man, he allows you to see through the cracks in his walls.

"Love...", he breathes. And it's reverent, a prayer. As if you are the deity that holds his absolution. As if your words alone can save him from the damnation he suffers.

His hands slowly reach up, cup your cheeks. He's about to pull back when he sees the blood on his hands next to your unblemished face but your hands cover his and you nuzzle into the hold of a killer.

His body bows foreward, into your warmth and his chapped lips fit against yours. As soon as your lips touch he whimpers and your hands find their way to his cheek and neck, holding him close.

You only pull back enough to touch your forehead to his, both of you keeping your eyes closed.

"My Simon.", you whisper into his skin and his arms wrap around you as he lets his head fall to your shoulder, buries his face in your neck and starts shaking.

You grab onto him just as tightly. It's uncomfortable the way you're on your knees half risen to meet him in the middle but you don't care when you start humming and gently swaying.

You don't know if he's crying, probably not, but he's still shaking so you tighten your hold and whisper your love for him into the quiet of your bedroom.

When his breaths start to get quick and shallow again you force him back, cup his face and demand "Simon, look at me."

He does, his gaze is unfocused, and he's panting way too fast, but he's trying to focus on you. He's not too far gone so you check in first "Touch?" He nods in a jerky movement.

Your hands go to his again and you hold both of them to your chest with one, the other one finds his neck and puts gentle pressure there.

"Match my breaths, darling.", you instruct. He obeys.

Today is a good day, as you are able to bring him back from the brink for a second time. Slowly his eyes blink back into awareness and your gentle smile cracks open his ribcage and sets his bleeding heart free.

"There he is. Hi."

"Hi, luv." His voice is horribly rough a splintering sound like old rotten wood breaking apart but he doesn't miss the way your hand on his neck squeezes affectionately.

"Let me give you a shower?" He nods, too tired afer two almost panic attacks to answer. You stand up and offer him a hand which he takes and allows you to pretend to pull him up.

You don't let go of his hand as you pull him into the bathroom, maneuvering him so he can lean back against the sink. You know that he's tired, but you also know that the last thing he needs to see right now is himself, still covered in blood, and you taking care of that mess for him. So you don't give him the opportunity to gaze at the reflection of what's going on in the mirror over the sink.

Once you've eased every piece of armor and clothing off of him, you usher him into the shower, under the warm spray of water before following him.

Once your both under the water, your wrap your arms around him and just hold him. When he sighs you can feel the way his lungs fill up to their limit.

It's a long time before you take the bottle of shampoo into your hands and put some of it in your hands.

"Bend down for me?", you murmur.

Simon gets on his knees before you instead, buries his face in your tummy and relaxes as your hands begin to massage the shampoo into his scalp.

You're careful while rinsing it out and he presses a soft kiss to your tummy before standing up. A thank you and a offering at the altar of the only deity he'll ever worship. Then he's standing again, his hands on your hips, while you begin to lather his body in your own body wash.

You can feel him relax and it doesn't take long before he gives you the gift of his voice, even if it is so say: "Damnit darlin', making me smell like a princess?"

He's grumbling affectionately and you grin. There he is. It's always a good sign when he starts being a grump about stuff he secretly loves. It's always a good sign when he starts with his horrible dry humour.

"No one says that big dangerous men can't be princesses.", you quip back and see the way the corner of his mouth lifts up.

"I'm too manly to smell like...", he squints at the bottle. "Rainbow sunshine." He snorts. "Sounds like something that would come out of a unicorn's ass."

You laugh and slap his chest. "You are the worst, Si. Guess you gotta suck it up and smell like unicorn ass."

"The shit I go through for you.", he grouses and you can hear the grin in his voice.

When you've rinsed him off again he puts his arms around you again and pulls you into him, resting his head on yours.

"Thank you, luv."

"Always, baby."

...

"Now get your unicorn ass out of this shower so I can dry you off and cuddle with you."

He laughs roughly and slaps your backside. "The only one with a magical ass here, is you, luv."

#the sewer writes #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x gn!reader #ghost x gn!reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #fluff #hurt/comfort #cod simon x reader #cod simon riley x reader

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natti-ice · 2 months

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Hi lovely!

Could I ask for a Benedict fic where him and reader get pretty messy with the his paints? 💕🥹

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, nudity, sensual touching, kissing, implied sex (1k words)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

You had met Benedict at a social event this past season and the two of you got on very well, any time you saw each other in passing you had to stop and make conversation. You felt at ease with him, he was so down to Earth unlike most of the uptight socialites of the city. You were very fond of him in general and it seemed he felt the same about you. Not to mention the fact you were also very attracted to him. He often spoke to you about his art and his passion for finding the beauty in life, he showed you his work book of sketches, all of random things he found beautiful even if most people don't.

Today on a casual stroll in the park, Benedict casually asked you if you would like to be the subject of one of his paintings, you had never thought of modeling before but it intrigued you. You were always curious on how people viewed you and this would show you his perspective of you, so you agreed. He brought you back to his studio and showed you some of paintings he had hanging around by artists that inspired him, then he lead you over to the center of the room where he had a large sheet of white paper spread across the floor. You assumed it was to protect his floors from any paint drippings but you were quite wrong.

"This is our canvas for today, my lady" Benedict smiles

You chuckle and furrow your brows a bit "I'm sorry what? Are you going to draw a life size version of me?"

"No, dear" he laughs softly "I'm going to paint with you. I want to use your body as a brush, if that's okay with you of course" he adds that last part in quickly to reassure you can pull out at any time. There's a sparkle in his eyes as he explains how he wants to cover your nude bodies in paint and roll around making an abstract design. "So, what do you say?" His voice is filled with hope, he desperately wants you to say yes.

You think about his offer for a moment, the thought of being naked with him excites you but also makes you very nervous. You have only known him a short amount of time but you trust him a lot, you nod with a soft smile "okay, I'm in."

"Excellent" he grins and claps his hands together once "you can get undressed while I prepare the paints." he gives you a comforting smile then turns around and walks to the back of his studio where he keeps his paint. You slowly start to undress, you feel the butterflies in your stomach intensifying as you shed each piece of clothing. Finally naked, you fold your clothes neatly and set them on a small sofa nearby. The window of the studio is cracked out letting in a soft breeze, you feel goosebumps grow on your bare skin and your nipples become erect.

A few moments later, Benedict came back carrying a tray with small cans full of paint "alright here we are-" he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you, his eyes wide in surprise as he takes all of you in "wow... you're absolutely breathtaking" his voice is so soft it's almost a whisper

You chuckle nervously, you feel your whole body start to heat up "um, thank you, sir" you wrap your arms around your body, very aware of how exposed you are. He steps closer to you and sets the tray on a small table, he picks up a can filled with red paint and holds it up to you.

"May I?" He asks for permission, you nod slightly giving him full access to your body. He dips two fingers into the paint and slowly runs them along your collar bone, it slowly starts to drip down your front as your body temperature melts the paint. He works his way down your body, streaking the red all over you, his fingertips ever so slightly graze your nipples sending a shiver down your spine. "Beautiful" he whispers softly before setting the paint canister down and began to strip his clothes off.

You watched him closely as each article of clothing flew from his body leaving him bare in front of you. He gripped your arm softly and turned you around, he slowly poured some of the paint down your back letting it cascade down your back. He presses himself against your back slightly, you can feel his breath tickling your neck as he began to place soft hot kisses along the side. He used one hand to rub the red all over your back, a gasp caught in your throat as his larges hands rubbed soft circles on your ass.

When he finished he turned you around to face him, he picked up a can of blue paint and handed it to you "now you do me" his voice soft but laced with something more sensual. You take the can and start to smear blue all over his body, trying desperately to avoid his intimate areas as best as possible even if it was staring right at you. Once he was blue from the neck down he gently took your hand and brought you down to the paper on the floor. "Lay back, darling," he instructed playfully "we're gonna roll around a bit" he chuckles before rolling on top of you, his arms wrapped around your body as he goes in for a kiss.

Things escalated quickly from there, paint began to adorn the paper as you two made love. Shades of blue and red mixed together leaving streaks of purple behind, hand prints of different colors could be seen throughout the paper. Moans filled the studio, there was also the occasional sound of paper ripping when things became too intense. When it was all said and done, Benedict framed the work and even put it up in a gallery. People always asked how he created such an abstract piece of art, he came up with a story of how he just started throwing paint at the canvas. Only you and him ever knew the truth.

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pre11yyy · 4 days

Text

Warnings: non con (if u r not comfortable don't read), mdni, violence themes, heeseung is so fucked up, explicit content, some creepy shit, stalker!heeseung

Thinking about neightbour!heeseung who has been stalking u after his first time seeing u, he just can't help it but wonder what u do, what u like, who u r hanging out with until it became a routine for him

Neightbour!heeseung who'd only greet u and ask about how r u doing as if he doesn't know what u do 24h/7

Neighbour!heeseung who had enough from watching u from afar and now wants more than that, he needs to be in ur space and what's better than ur house? He finds himself sneaking in trying everything he learned to open ur door and when he finally got in, the feeling is overwhelming as he's now able to touch ur things, smell ur scent and feel ur warmth, Heeseung is very quiet as he walks around ur house, he takes his time observing everything, learning new things about u which makes his love, His possession for u even bigger.

Neightbour!Heeseung who had been thinking about sneaking in while u r there, wondering in his head how u'll react if u ever noticed him there, the thought so thrilling for him to not do it, so he does it, opening ur door quietly when he could hear clearly ur tv on, glacing to see u sitting in ur little couch stuffing the crisps in ur mouth without having an idea that he is here with u, With u ohhh how this idea is so tempting to him, but he needs to wait, he can't make a single sound yet

Neighbour!Heeseung who is waiting for the right moment to make u his, he watches ur every move, the way u laugh, the way u speak, the way u touch urself, he is a good boy, a very good boy, waiting patiently for the right moment where ur phone rings, he knows its him, the man that always calls u, the one that takes all ur time and attention, he's not going to allow that to happen anymore, not when he's here and you'll be his, he is sure of it, so he makes his way slowly, standing in front of u, he's here now, and he is ready

Neighbour!heeseung who would play with ur hair while ur sleeping, hiding whenever u feel his touch on u, gasping where u just imagining things? U don't know how much it hurts him, he wants to make his presence clear, he wants u to feel his hands on ur hair and all over ur body, and he does, his hand slowly tracing ur neck down to ur collar bone, making u wake up to the sudden touch, the one that made u flinch, your eyes searching for the source of the touch in this darkness of the room, finding nothing in sight, the fear is taking over u and u can't help it, u need to check the house, so u get up from ur bed, trying to find the source, the feeling of being watched is taking over u, u need to find the source or else, you'll lose ur mind, he knows how scared u r, that's why he is not letting u find him, not yet, so he is staying still, he's not even breathing, he just watches u walk around searching, but no, he's not letting u find him, not before making sure u can't leave this place, the moment u reach the door, he is on u, his hands are around ur neck, his breathe is on ur neck and his voice is on ur ear

Neighbour!heeseung who would let his words sink deep into ur mind, "I'm gonna fuck you until you scream my name and pass out, until you forget about everyone but me", "took me too much to get here", "but m here now"

Neighbour!Heeseung who'd bite your neck hard enough to draw blood, the pain is something so foreign to u, but that's not what ur afraid of, its him, it's his presence, and it's the fact that u don't have any idea of what he's capable of, who is even this person that's wrapping his hands around u?, u find urself freezing not knowing what to do, ur hands shaking as u feel his hands gropping ur body, squirming to pull urself away but no, he's not letting go, instead he squeezes harder, and now ur begging, asking him to stop, his laugh is echoing around the room, the laugh that makes his hold weaker and allows u to turn, facing him, the man you see on the street, the one who is so sweet to u, the one who is a good neighbour, he is here, but his whole aura is different, u can't help it but feel ur body shivers at the creepy smile that's all over his face now after seeing ur surprised face "Baby,m finally here sorry for making u wait"

Neighbour!Heeseung who doesn't waste his time as his hand is already in ur pants, making u gasp at his touch, his finger moving up and down, his other hand grabbing the small knife in his pocket, making his way to the back of ur head, his hands gripping ur hair, his eyes piercing into yours, and his smile is wide, his teeth are showing, as he press the sharp metal on ur throat threatening u to stay still or else he'd cut u, so u did, giving in to whatever his doing to u, the moment u close ur eyes, his smile grows even bigger, his hand moves faster, the knife is getting closer, the pleasure is taking over u, it feels so good, ur moans are escaping, his eyes are locked into your every movement, studying u before his teeth sink into ur skin, the pleasure is overwhelming, u've never been in a similar situation and u can't help it but admit that it's turning u on, it feels too good, so good that u find urself cumming in his hands, your moans are louder, and ur legs are giving up on u, your body falling down but he's there to catch u, holding onto u tight, his eyes never leaving yours as his hands find their way back to ur pants, his fingers tracing the wetness, the touch so electrifying, making ur eyes roll back, ur body twitching in his hold, eyes dripping with tears as u beg him to stop and he only smile at that, his heart beating so fast at ur beautiful sight covered in tears

Neighbour!Heeseung who makes sure u know it's him and him only, that his the only one who can make u feel like this, the only one who can have you, the only one who can touch and taste and see every inch of u, he'll make sure of that, by carving his name into ur skin, the moment his done with the last letter, he's biting ur lips, making sure u'll know how much he loves and needs u, the blood is dripping from the cuts in ur lips, the pain is so sweet, and the pleasure is even sweeter, and then his kissing u, his tongue is tracing the cut, his sucking on it and his enjoying this moment, the moment he can taste u, and have u, and own u, the moment he can feel every inch of u, the moment he can have u in his hands, the moment his eyes are on u, and his touch is on u, his everything is on u and ur his "You're mine and mine only"

Neighbour!Heeseung who would make sure u won't be able to escape, that ur his, and his only, the only one who'd need, the one that will obey his every wish, he'll make sure of that, he'd make sure that ur body can't live without him, that ur addicted to him, so that his name is the only thing in ur mind, he'd make sure of that, the moment he enters ur hole, the feeling of beeing full is overwhelming, his thrusts are fast, and rough, the way his hitting ur spot over and over again, the way he's filling you up, the way his hands are all over you, the way he's gripping your body so tight, the way he's marking you, the way his nails are digging into ur skin, the way his teeth are piercing ur skin, everything was so overwhelming to u, u were sure u r losing it, ur mind so foggy and the only thing that could leave ur mouth were moans, the only word that could come out of ur mouth was his name.

Neightbour!Heeseung who kept fucking u and filling u up the whole night, not caring if u passed out or not, not caring if he was hurting you, the only thing he cared about was his needs and desires, to make sure u'll stay and what's better than for him to make sure u'd carry his kid, the only thing he wanted was you and nothing else.

Neighbour!Heeseung who'd take care of the wounds and bruises that he caused on ur body the next day, his sweetness taking u by surprise making u doubt that he was the one who caused that in the first place, his smile was so sweet, so pure, the same smile that could make his eyes disappear, and the same smile that could melt his heart.

Neighbour!heeseung is who ur stuck with,forever

idk wtf this is but yeah whatever

#kpop #kpop smut #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung enha #heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung smut

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dragon-kazansky · 15 days

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Seven - The prince

♡♡♡

Once again, you find yourself sitting in the pleasant blue drawing room that belongs to the Bridgerton's. It is a colour you could get quite used to.

Most of the family were present, so it was quite a nice gathering. Daphne had been the one to greet you when you arrived, but Benedict insisted you sit beside him once you came into the drawing room.

You smiled at Anthony as you passed him, and he gave you a gentle smile in return, bowing his head. This did not go unnoticed by the second son, who gave you a questioning look that you offered no response to.

"Daphne, have you thought about who you would like to dance with at tonight's ball?" Violet asks her daughter.

"I have some ideas. Lord Weaver is a fine dancer." Daphne says.

"Lord Hardy was asking about you at White's last night." Anthony tells his sister.

Daphne comes to sit beside you.

"Lord Hardy? What about the duke?" Her mother asks.

"The duke has not proposed, Mama. I am still considering my best course." Daphne says.

Gregory steals from Anthony's plate behind you, sending the eldest brother into a frantic motion. His sneaky little brother.

"Wise girl," Anthony says, once he is over his brother's thieving ways.

"And Lord Hardy is a fine option. Although, he is rather boastful."

"My dear, why ever do you complicate matter so?" Violet asks. "You must simply marry the man who feels like your dearest friend."

"Oh? Is that it, Mama? Well, how very simple indeed!" Daphne sighs.

"Yes, quite."

Benedict, who has been slouching slowly inch by inch on the sofa since you sat down, looks up at you with a cheeky grin. You roll your eyes and nudge his knee.

Daphne, deciding to shift the conversation from herself, turns to you. "You did quite well yourself at the last ball."

You smile and glance back at Anthony who smiled at you in return. "I had help."

"Hm?" Benedict sits up and looks at you. "What does she mean?"

You turn to him with a proud smile. "Well, my usual dance partner wasn't present last night, so Anthony stepped in. Dancing with your brother garnered a little attention, and I had several dances with different gentlemen that night."

Benedict turns to look at his brother so quickly that he could have gotten whiplash. Anthony smiles smugly at him.

Violet leans forward with some interest. "Oh? Do tell me more."

Talking about Daphne any more seemed like a dead-end, so Violet decided to move on to you.

"Your eldest offered to dance with me. He's quite the skilled dancer. Afterwards, I was approached by several others. I honestly think Daphne may be my good luck charm. Her magic is rubbing off onto me."

Daphne smiles at you, pleased that thongs are turning around for you.

Benedict glares softly at his brother. "She's my dance partner."

"You weren't there." Anthony argues.

"Still..."

"It matters not. I think I may be not he without a partner for the rest of the season. Even if none wish to call upon me, I shall dance at every ball."

Benedict isn't sure he is comforted by your words, but at the same time, he can't fault you. Perhaps this will be your way into the marriage market, after all.

♡♡♡

Benedict made it a point to attend this ball. The idea of Anthony stepping in for his role as your dance partner didn't quite sit with him.

While Daphne is off dancing in the next room, you hang back in the connected room with the other Bridgertons.

"Give me your dance card." Benedict says.

"Hm?"

He reaches for it without speaking and signs it. You chuckle.

"I'm just making sure," he says.

"Yes. Of course."

"Did you hear?" Colin asks, rejoining you both after fetching a drink.

"Hear what?" You ask, turning to him.

"There is a prince attending tonight." He sips his drink.

"Ah yes." You recall hearing that. "I'm sure everyone knows."

"Does Mama know?" Benedict asks him.

"I'm not quite sure." Colin muses.

You look at Benedict. "Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason. I just wondered. After all, if he's eligible, and the Duke has yet to still propose to Daphne..." He drifts off.

Colin looks at his brother. "You can't be serious?"

Benedict shrugs.

Chatter grows near the entrance, and you look up in time to see the Queen enter with a younger man by her side. There is no doubt in your mind that he is the prince that was expected to arrive. He is dressed like one.

"That shall be him now," you say, watching walk into the ballroom.

"Princess Daphne, eh?" Colin grins.

Benedict smacks him lightly. Colin glares at his brother. You rolls your eyes and walk away.

"You owe me a dance!" Benedict calls out.

You laugh as you head into the ballroom, wanting to see what is happening. The Queen introduces the prince to Daphne and you watch curiously.

After a few moments, Daphne lets out the most unladylike laugh you have ever heard. You chuckle quietly to yourself.

As the music begins to play again, Benedict comes up beside you. "Done swooning?"

"I was hardly swooning."

Benedict holds out his hand and gives you a look. You chuckle and place your hand in his.

"My name is on your card."

"I know."

You both join the others and dance around the room. Benedict and you smile at each other, enjoying each others company. Dancing with him has become a rather nice moment for you, but you haven't forgotten your initial attempt to find a suitor.

When your dance with Benedict comes to an end, another gentleman approaches you, and another after that.

Benedict finds that your dance with Anthony last time has really improved your chances. He thinks nothing of it as he rejoins Colin in the other room.

The evening passes, and you find that you had enjoyed every moment of it.

♡♡♡

Prince Friedrich of Prussia had garnered a lot of attention. The ladies flcoked to him in the masses. While he was trapped outside with the ladies and their Mama's, you were inside looking at the art.

The Bridgertons. Were here, too.

The gallery was phenomenal. Artwork covered every inch of every wall. There was so much to admire and take in.

You were currently with your mother as you took in some of the artwork. Your eyes are taking their time to trail over the details of paintings. You didn't know much about art, but you could certainly admire it.

Violet Bridgerton had her arm hooked with her eldest son. She scanned the room and pointed out some of the lovely ladies present. Anthony sighed and looked at his mother.

"Were I looking for a list of debutantes and their dubious accomplishments, I could have stayed home and read Lady Whistledown." Anthony frees himself from his mother and wanders off.

Violet turns to take Benedict's arm, but he catches on quick and wriggles out of her grasp, also fleeing.

Poor Colin is left behind to take the fall.

Benedict finds himself looking up at a painting in deep thought. Lady Danbury joins him along with another gentleman.

"It's much too cold," Benedict says, looking at Danbury. "Where's any sense of the subject's spirit? And the light! Given the quality, I do wonder why the piece was not skyed with the other daubs."

"Perhaps we should ask the artist," Lady Danbury says.

"That would be something, Lady Danbury." Benedict nods at her.

"Mm... Mr. Granville, why was your piece not skyed?" She turns to the gentleman beside her and Benedict wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

"Mr. Granville, I--"

"If you will excuse me, um, I must find my wife." Granville leaves.

Benedict is left starting in utter shock. "You diabolical... How could your leylt me rattle on like that?"

"How could I not, my dear Mr. Bridgerton? It was riotously funny, you must admit."

Lady Danbury walks away.

Benedict looks back at the painting and sighs.

"Penny, for your thoughts." You say, coming to stand beside him. Benedict looks at you and then back at where Lady Danbury had gone.

"I was humiliated just now."

You look around but don't see who he is looking for. "Surely not."

Benedict looks back at the painting. "What do you think?"

You look up at it and give it a good look. "I... can't say I know much about art. Do you?"

Benedict smiles a little. "You could say that. I have a passion for it."

You turn and look at him. "You're an artist too?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. Not yet." He looks almost sheepish.

You smile as you look at him. "Is there any possibility of me seeing your work?" You ask.

Benedict isn't sure why his heart races at the thought of you seeing something so important to him. His personal hobby.

"You wish to see my work?"

"If you'll allow."

Benedict stares at you for a moment and then tears his gaze away, realising he was perhaps looking for far too long.

"Perhaps one day."

You hear the far away tone of his voice as he looks up at the painting on the wall. You wonder what he's thinking.

Perhaps he hopes he can paint something for all to see one day. Maybe then he will let you see his passion.

The crowd behind you gasped, and you both turned to see Cressida on the ground with Prince Friedrich comforting her.

"Ah, the art of swooning." You chuckle.

Benedict chuckles, too.

You turn your gaze away from the crowd and back to the painting on the wall. Your eyes trailing along it. This piece doesn't make you feel much of anything, if you were honest.

Yet, somehow, you believe Benedict's painting would certainly have a way to move you. Whether you understood art or not.

♡♡♡

Benedict sits in an empty room of the house, all by himself sketching away in his book. He has already torn out and tossed a couple of pages in frustration.

There is a lingering thought in the back of his head. The thought of showing you his work. You asked him so innocently too.

If Benedict is to create anything worthy of being admired by you, it would have to be perfect.

He wasn't entirely why your wish to see his work mattered so much. Perhaps it was because you became friends. Perhaps it because he felt you would understand.

Your kind-hearted nature and sense of humour were perfectly admirable traits, but it was your wish to know him on a deeper level that had Benedict desiring your company.

You were one of the only people to really see him. It felt good.

The second son swore to himself that he would draw something worthy of your gaze. Nothing less.

It was just going to take him a while to create such a piece.

If only Daphne would play a different tune kn her piano. The constant repetitive notes he can hear from the drawing room were driving him insane.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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strwberri-milk · 3 months

Note

Do you think you could do genshin charas (I don't mind who! Your pick 🫶) with a reader who has a reaaaaally clingy cat

The kitty hates everyone but the reader and follows them everywhere. When the reader leaves and the cat can't follow it meows SO loud for hours until the reader comes back. Kitty will jump up on the readers shoulder and sometimes sit on their head (small kitty) and if anyone comes close to reader the kitty will start hissing and swatting at them until they back away. Basically like a guard dog but a guard kitten

hmm im giving you diluc and kaveh!! i'm also making it so that kitty warms up to him *eventually* because itd be so sad if it hated him forever :( ALSO my friends kitten literally hates me she refused to take a treat from my hand for like half an hour [sob] she would sniff it but wouldnt eat it :((( oh ya also surprise rafayel bc hes so funny LMAO

I can see Diluc taking to cats. They're more self sufficient than dogs and considering his busy work schedule he'd think it'd be a little difficult to keep a dog busy without also worrying for it's safety. When you tell him you have a cat he doesn't mind it at all but he's a little concerned when your cat starts hissing and spitting at him.

He looks at you, unsure of what to do and you explain that the cat is simply just protective of you. He doesn't want to somehow offend your cat by encroaching on your shared bubble so he looks to you to see what he can and can't do.

Now whenever your cat and Diluc hang out it's like a game of chicken. Diluc's trying to figure out what he's allowed to do (by permission of your cat) and you're trying to make sure your cat doesn't scratch Diluc/hurt itself trying to jump onto him to protect you.

Diluc also tries other ways of acclimating your cat to him. He leaves a jacket in the room you and your kitty are in together so it can explore his scent freely, waits to see if it'll come to him rather than you bringing it to him, etc. When it slowly finally warms up to him he can barely hide his relief, hating the thought of you having to choose between him or your pet.

He's very patient and your kitty seems to appreciate it, hissing at him less until finally, one day you come home and find Diluc sitting incredibly still watching your kitten sleep soundly on his lap. He's barely breathing, turning to you when he sees you come in with awe in his eyes not unlike a child's. It definitely helped that his body runs warm and kitty just needed a place to nap.

Kaveh jumps the first time your cat hisses at him. He wasn't expecting that to happen since most animals warm up to him pretty quickly. Similar to Diluc, he knows not to force a relationship between himself and your kitten so he also takes his time to acclimate your cat to him.

Unlike Diluc I think your cat would warm up to him faster. Kaveh has absolutely great vibes and animals tend to follow him around because he also has a habit of feeding them if he can. This natural kindness is shown in the way he respects your cat's boundaries and the way he watches you care for the animal.

Your cat slowly explores Kaveh only if you're close to him. He has a bit more success if he's wearing something or has something you've recently worn draped over him but he's careful if your kitty starts circling around his feet. Even if it lightly nips or hisses at him he tries not to react too strongly, knowing that it's just trying to protect you and getting mad at it is just going to halt progress.

Eventually your cat starts to slowly enjoy sitting with Kaveh and watching him sketch. It doesn't interrupt his drawings but you notice it's eyes watching his pencil flit about. When it gets more comfortable it might tentatively bat at it, Kaveh carefully picking it up and depositing it into your lap to avoid any actual damage being done to his work.

Rafayel is incredibly dramatic and because you know he's afraid of cats you've decided to keep your cat away from him. That was mostly successful until one day he came in as you were getting dressed in your room. You knew he'd be coming over and you forgot that he could just let himself in and quickly tried to make yourself decent the second you heard his screaming.

You're ready to attack whatever it is that made him lose his composure, thinking you're ready to go face to face with a Wanderer when you find him crouched on top a kitchen counter glaring daggers at you. He knew you had a cat and was under the impression that since you knew he was coming today you would have put it away.

In a weird way he tells you he's glad that your cat isn't "trying to trick him" by being cute and cuddly. He's very adamant about not touching your cat and keeping his distance away from the "creature". You'd have to convince him to touch your cat but that only happens once your cat actually calms down in his presence. It sees how you act around him and over time realises that you care a lot about him.

It takes some more time but your cat and boyfriend have some sort of peace treaty with each other that's never actually communicated. They relatively leave each other alone and tolerate each other's presence only for you.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaveh x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader

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cmoundiamante · 27 days

Text

SOMETHING THAT I WANT ✦ S.JY

pairing flynn rider!jake x fem!reader

genre hc, high school!au, fluff.

warnings reader has really long hair, mommy issues, n i think that’s it lol.

a/n hello everyoneee. as i wanna post at least once a week, heres a little gift (; the release of miniskirt is being delayed because ive been studying lately, but dont forget that the taglist is still open to anyone who wants to be notified the day i post it.

wc +1,0k

Flynn-Rider!Jake who knows you from school, a classmate of yours who never came near you, but you felt his slanted eyes fixed like daggers in every class.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who tells his best friends about you, slowly acknowledging that he was attracted to you. Highlighting your eyes, your lovely lips and especially your immense long hair.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who comes to you for a school activity, that's your first interaction.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who as the days go by continues to keep in touch with you, greeting you when he saw you, talking to you from time to time and even changing his desk place, forcing his friend Sunghoon to sit with him behind your desk.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who notices your passion for art. Little by little you became friends, but he wanted to be more than that, so the way he thought he could get your heart by buying you things you liked. One day like any other, he showed up in front of you with a gift bag. "What’s this?" you asked, the bag he was holding in his hands moving closer to you. "Open it by yourself."

You grabbed the bag, discreetly touching Flynn-Rider!Jake's cold fingers, and pulled out what was inside. Without much surprise, it was square and wrapped in gift wrap. You raised an eyebrow and without much force tore the paper with your fingers, discovering what lay beneath what covered it. "Jake what the-?" "Do you like it?" Your eyes widened like saucers, causing Flynn-Rider!Jake’s eyes to sparkle. "It's Faber Castell, they are very expensive." You tried to refuse his gift, but he insisted anyway. You were so full of happiness, so full of joy, that you jumped out of your seat to hug him and kiss him on the cheek.

Rapunzel!Reader who comes home wishing her mother hadn't come home from work. You swap your school clothes for a more comfortable one and tie your long hair in a bun, lock yourself in your room and seek inspiration from your thoughts, while delicately opening the temperas that Jake had given you.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who the next day receives a very nice drawing made by you. It was a forest, decorated by a very tall tower and a large mountain with a waterfall behind it. The sky was decorated with clouds and night lanterns, all done in a contrast of purples and yellows. "I made it with the temperas you gave me."

Flynn-Rider!Jake who put the canvas on his bedside table, hoping one day to hang it on the walls of his room.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who invites you to the park to spend the day together. "What do you mean?" you asked, walking down the halls, barely brushing your hand against his. "A picnic, I saw on tiktok trend that people get together to draw, would you like to go?" you couldn't say no to that. "Of course."

Rapunzel!Reader who, as she prepares to leave, is questioned by her mother in every aspect of her life. You wished she were at work today. "Where are you going dressed like that?" asked your mother, looking at you with some disgust, "I'm going out with some friends." You knew the mess you could make if you told her you were dating a guy. She just rolled her eyes and didn't respond to you again, completely ignoring your presence. You weren't with her half the day, and when she showed up she despised you.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who could get you out of your bad thoughts, who could finally make you feel the way you should. You both painted all afternoon, talking about your lives, including your mother's relationship. At the end of the day, both of you kept each other's drawing.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who took you to collect flowers in the park, with a basket and holding hands.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who was becoming the guy you were falling in love with.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who watched tutorials on youtube to know how to make a braid. When you finally came back together, he used the same flowers you both had collected to embed in your braid.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who decides to move to your place in class, deciding to accompany you. Sunghoon was jealous but quite happy for his friend. "You look very happy, and so does she." he said, metaphorically congratulating him on the good work he was doing.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who was aware that you were falling in love with him, started to be more flirtatious and compliment you to make you nervous.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who invites you to take a boat ride. He begged his father to rent him a boat so you could both go see what you wanted most in this life, the night lights. Your eyes lit up as you watched the little fabric marshmallows go by, and even though Jake had come to see them, he could only keep his gaze on you.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who after so long, in a place as romantic as a night on a boat, gives you your first kiss.

Rapunzel!Reader who when she gets home, is terribly scolded by her mother. Wondering why you were coming home at this hour, telling you that you were a terrible daughter, that you were good for nothing, and that as long as you lived under her roof you would do whatever she told you. You understood her concern, but there was no need for verbal violence.

Rapunzel!Reader who finally decides to move on. One early morning, exhausted by your mother's attitudes, you cut your hair above your shoulders, having no problem leaving it uneven.

Rapunzel!Reader who calls her best friend… boyfriend… for help. Jake gave you a space in his house, also that same night you were given the opportunity to meet his parents, who gave you a warm welcome to their home.

Flynn-Rider!Jake who even though he saw your hair darkening from the haircut, there was something that shone brighter than that, and that was your gaze.

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sanjifucker42069 · 7 months

Text

Missing

Sanji x Reader

You wake up to find your little friend gone. Panicking, you turn to Sanji.

Its Peaches time again bitches! I meant for this to be a small drabble, its smallish, right?

Word count: 1036

Sunlight flittered in through the porthole, the warmth warming your face. Blearily, you pried your eyes open. Morning again already? With a groan you swung lazily in your hammock, debating whether or not to get up. You swung, eyeing the small box you kept near your bed. With careful hands you drew it near you.

"Good morning Pea-" You began, cracking open the box. You kept the little rat in this box of a night. It had all she could want, a small bed of a straw, a hide, and a water dish. You didn't necessarily want to keep her in there at night, but you didn't want anything bad to happen to her. So when you drew the lid back, and there was no rat in sight you felt panic bloom in your chest.

"Peaches?!" You cried, checking the hide, checking the bed. Where could she have gotten to? The panic grew stronger. Nami didn't even know the rat existed. What if she found her? Or anyone? What if they treated her like a common street rat? With an air of stress you rolled out of the hammock, hitting the ground softly. You scoured the entire quarters, careful not to wake Nami.

The wardrobe. Under crates. Inside barrels. Nowhere. Panic. Your breath quickened. Surely she couldn't get too far? You studied every dusty corner, crawling on your hands and knees. Desperate. Stress. You could feel yourself starting to tear up. She had to be here somewhere? Right?

Sanji.

Sanji knew of her now. You could trust him. With a speed that startled yourself you quickly padded to the boys' quarters. With bated breath you cracked the door open. You squinted, staring into the room.

Zoro was fast asleep, arms crossed as his hammock slowly swung. Luffy was on his stomach, arm hanging over the side, snoring loudly. Usopp, too, was fast asleep, curled up on his side. But the fourth hammock was empty.

Kitchen.

You creaked the door closed. The sun was slowly rising higher, the waves sounding too loud right now. Your heart was pounding. You felt your stomach drop.

Stupid. It's just a rat. You stupid thing.

But still you couldn't stop your nerves as you scrambled into the kitchen.

As soon as you crossed the threshold you felt a wave of calm wash over you. Sanji had his back to you, calmly beating something in a bowl. He cast you a glance over his shoulder, that soft smile you'd come to love igniting a sense of relief.

"G'morning, love. You're up early."

"Sanji." You whispered, tears threatening to fall. At your tone, Sanji moved to study you.

"Love? What's wrong?"

Sanji noticed your nervousness. His hands reaching out to coax you in. Before you could think, your feet carried you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, clutching fistfuls of his jacket. Drawing in a deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak.

Squeak.

You froze, eyes wide. With great hope, you wrenched yourself back. Sanji took in your stunned expression, offering you that gorgeous smile, a softness that made you feel vulnerable.

"Oh, her? She wandered in this morning, got quite an appetite, this one. C'mon, come take a look." When you didn't move, he reached out to cradle your cheek. "Hey, love, she's okay. Its okay. Take a look."

With a shaky nod, you let the man direct you to the bench. Peaches, ever the kind soul, regarded you with a passing glance, brushing you off to focus back on her snack. You frowned. The grey rodent was perched next to where Sanji had been cooking, munching away on a crumbling biscuit.

"How long has she been in here?" You asked, wiping your face with your sleeves. Sanji's kind smile never wavered.

"About an hour."

"Oh." You felt so stupid. "I'm sorry Sanji."

"Hey." You looked up, finding that gaze on you. You hated that look, it always felt like Sanji was looking into your very soul. Rubbing at your arm to soothe yourself, you tried to avoid feeling minuscule. "Its okay. You wanted to make sure she was okay, I understand. And you have my word that while she's in my kitchen she'll receive the utmost care. She is a lady after all." A cheeky wink. "There's nothing to be ashamed of love. C'mon, how about you help with breakfast? You can watch how sneaky this little one is about stealing sweets."

That drew a laugh from you. You bumped your hip against his, getting closer to the man. "That sounds about right." You felt yourself smile, revelling in his warmth. "She must feel safe around you."

Sanji grinned, chopping at the fruit before him. "Guess so."

"So do I." You added quietly.

Sanji set the knife down, regarding you out of the corner of your eye. He pulled you into a side hug, his breath tickling your hair. You preened at the touch, nuzzling into his side. Shuffling to face you, Sanji's fingers tilted your chin up.

"I'm glad. I feel safe around you, love."

With that he kissed you. His lips were slightly chapped, the sea air's doing, but were soft in a way you didn't expect. The kiss was light, delicate, as if he didn't want to startle you. The faint taste of smoke invaded your senses, curling around you like a blanket. You reached up to cradle his face, drawing you in deeper. Sanji grinned against your lips, diving back into kiss you once more. This was perfect. You never wanted this moment to end.

Squeak.

You pulled back at the angry sound, turning to glare at Peaches. The rodent regarded the two of you, looking lightly peeved. You stared her down. "Excuse me?"

Sanji laughed, the sound melting your heart. "She wants another treat, love." He presented a small slice of pear to the rat. Peaches took it greedily, squeaking happily as she chomped away at the fruit. With a smile, he turned back to you, eyes playful. "And you know what? I want one too."

You laughed, dragging the man in for another kiss. Perhaps you would start waking up earlier, if it meant you could experience calmness like this.

#sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece x reader #opla x reader #edit: I FORGOT TO TITLE THIS LMAOOOOO #fluff

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boba-beom · 10 months

Text

stay still | CHOI BEOMGYU NSFW

p: beomgyu x fem!reader | g: smut | w: fwb!beomgyu a tease, heavy petting, fingering (f!receiving), marking, degradation; (slut, whore), pet names; (baby), smut with plot, possessive but also annoying gyu 🙄, ruined orgasm rip, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything! | wc: 1k | summary: while visiting beomgyu his friends and family just so happens to stay over too. instead of sleeping in the guest room you end up sleeping in his bed where you talk to him about your crush on one of his friends and wanting to stop your fwb agreement, but he tries to make you think otherwise. | a/n: guys,, this beomgyu is tainting all thoughts in my head omfg

!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

continue under the cut ❤︎

“didn’t we agree to stay quiet? hm?” beomgyu’s low whisper raised hairs along your neck. the deep rasps in his throat never failed to make your eyes subtly roll to the back of your head. or was that because he’s been teasing you since he joined you in his bed. here you are back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling with beomgyu laying on his side.

“gyu- fuck. can you just hear me out for a- a second?” you struggle to face him after having your eyes shut a little too tight, causing you to see luminescent colours whenever you tried to blink your eyes open.

he stops his ministrations of rubbing your clothed bundle of nerves, knowing that your satin shorts have a dark patch spreading across the material. he has your one leg trapped between his thighs and the other spread out a little.

beomgyu knows how to get you shaking, he knows what makes you crave for more and how to tease you. but for some reason he just doesn’t seem to understand the fact that you may or may not have a small crush on his friend whom you’ve only met twice.

“what do you even have to say? that you want to drop me for yeonjun? he has many friends with benefits to go to, what makes you think he’ll drop them for a filthy whore like you?” he sighs, adjusting his position beside you, now resting on his arm and looking at you. his finger grazing strokes up and down your thigh hidden under the blanket you were both sharing.

“why are you being such a dick right now?" you stare right at him with your hand grabbing his wrist, stopping him at a halt from the embarrassingly delicious tingly sensation against your skin.

"me? baby, I'm satisfied with you. but it's starting to sound like you've only been hanging out with me often just to coincidentally see yeonjun too." he air quotes with his other hand.

"maybe I am? I think I like this guy, beomgyu. you're just selfish." you huff, rolling your eyes. he was beginning to irritate you.

"I'm selfish?" his fingers trail closer to your clothed core, slowly pushing the satin material aside. "no panties, as expected. it's very much whore behaviour if you tell me."

you inhale a sharp gasp as he prods at your sopping hole, gathering the slick between his middle and ring finger and gliding it up to circle lightly around your nub.

"see, my whore." he hums closer to your neck, his hot breath fanning against your skin. "you like that hm? is that why you're in my bed and not in the guest room with yeonjun?" he smirks as he watches your chest heave just under his field of vision, noticing the way your nipples start to perk up.

"I- I wanted to confide in you," another sharp gasp intrudes your sentence as his fingers prods your entrance and gradually sinking his fingers inside you. "but- oh fuck- you don't care. you're.. so fucking stupid." you manage to mutter.

beomgyu draws out a hum as he leans forward to leave kisses and nibbles along your neck while his fingers work inside your clenching cunt. the familiar feeling of his fingers curling up just how you like it.

"I'll fuck you stupid with my fingers, now stay quiet."

he sucks at the exposed area of your neck as you turn your head away in attempt of burying it in the pillow. his fingers don't stop plunging in deep, picking up the speed in contrast of his slow licks after he sucks at your skin. a short-high pitched squeal leaves your lips as he speeds up.

"did you want yeonjun listening in? he possibly could. you think he knows how much of a slut you are for me?" beomgyu continues his actions, now littering kisses along your chest and clothed nipples.

"beomgyu, I'm-" you swallow back a moan but your shaky breath and heavy heaving doesn't stop. neither does beomgyu's fingers, adding his thumb to simultaneously rub your clit while his two digits are non-stop pumping in your clenching cunt.

"tell me you want me. not yeonjun. just me. and I'll let you cum." he whispers against your chest, licking your perked nipples through your satin cami top.

"okayokayokay, I want you beomgyu. so fucking bad. please make me cum like you always do." you begin to squirm under his body in attempt to reach your climax quicker.

"stay still, yn. you don't want yeonjun anymore, do you? just me, right?" beomgyu returns to kissing your jaw as you sigh in his ear, murmuring countless 'yes's, borderline whining.

"mmm, gyu, m'gonna hah-" your ears are met with beomgyu's low chuckles, fascinated by the way your body won't stop squirming.

"choi fucking beomgyu," you exhale. "why the fuck did you stop?! I was so close." you almost sob from the loss of your orgasm, almost reaching that state of euphoria that only beomgyu's been able to give you for god knows how long you've been friends with benefits.

"sorry baby, it's late and I didn't want to wake anyone up. you were starting to get a little too loud." he whispers the last sentence, shooting you a wink with his stupid grin crawling on his lips. "at least now I know you want me and not yeonjun. you're mine."

he pulls his fingers out of you, not without a few twitches from you, and sticks his soiled fingers into his mouth, taking them out with an exaggerated pop and satisfied groan.

"sweet as always." he winks at you and you scoff at his ridiculous gestures.

beomgyu wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer to him as he rests his head on your boobs, which he likes to call his personal twin pillows. in no time he was silent with light breaths as you instinctively run your fingers through his outgrown hair.

"gyu, you're so annoying. but at least I know that you want me too." you smile to yourself, falling asleep with him.

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @kookthief @lovejoshua @robin-obsessed and just assuming you wanted to be tagged bc of the rbs hehe @hyewka @gyuspeach

#kflixnet #k-labels #smiles hard hours #mdni #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x fem!reafer #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu drabble #txt smut #txt x fem!reader #beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt drabble

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