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ceilidho · 3 days

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)

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Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.

By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.

The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down.

But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.

The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you.

You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep.

“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.

After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”

Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”

“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”

“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”

The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”

You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.

A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.

When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up.

“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”

You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out.

The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false.

Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again.

“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”

You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.

It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot.

You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind.

John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you.

A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky.

You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt?

You don’t think you can.

Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them.

Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.

It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night.

When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.

“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”

It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office.

You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.

Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it.

“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”

On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too.

“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck.

It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name.

You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you.

“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you.

Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.

You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before.

Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work.

Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.

The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air.

Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.

Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous.

When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside.

The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey.

You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”

She puffs out a breath.

That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now.

Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west.

“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.

You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains.

As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time.

An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.

That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you.

The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.

Then, from behind you, you hear it.

The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line.

The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead.

The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride.

Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip.

John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out.

Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you.

Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off.

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves.

A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly.

You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath.

When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane.

Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him.

“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”

The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs.

“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.

“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth.

You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.

It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town.

You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock.

“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”

Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back.

“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail.

You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself.

He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone.

John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”

The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!”

“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it.

When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up.

You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x you #price x reader #john price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you

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huggingkoalas · 2 days

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is this hatred? or love? part 1

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count 2.9k

warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

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“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?”

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily.

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

“Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you.

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around.

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod.

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you.

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile.

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.”

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple — you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room.

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile.

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

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hxney-lemcn · 14 hours

Text

Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his.

Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

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propertyofwicked · 6 hours

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THIS IS US - LN

warnings: smut throughout!! MDNI!! unprotected sex, little bit of jealous!lando

snippets of lando and his girls sex life throughout the years of their relationship! <3 (can be read as a fewtrell!reader but it's not discussed)

masterlist the playlist

the first time -

y/n remembered her first time with lando like it was yesterday. the two of them, freshly 19 and still friends at the time, found themselves cuddled up on the sofa in his and max’s shared house. their friends slept dotted around the house, many of them drunk and sleeping in the first place their body stumbled into.

there’d always been a sense of something more between the two, friends from a young age, attached at the hip. they were close, too close for friends, max would tell him constantly - raising his eyebrows every time he caught them wrapped up in each other on the couch, or when they entwined their hands at any given opportunity. everyone around them had given up trying to push the two together, hoping they would come to their senses soon.

their first time happened so naturally, it was quite sweet actually. her head resting on his shoulder, as they sat together, her eyes staring wide up at his face. it was that moment he decided to go for it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. he half expected her to push him off, but found himself pleasantly surprised when she kissed him back, escalating the kiss till she was straddling his lap.

“not here,” she remembered him whispering in her ear, pulling her up from his lap as he lead the two of them to his room. the two of them resuming there position on his bed, lando resting his back on the headboard, palms covering her waist as she hovered over his cock.

“-wait!” she panicked slightly, “i don’t know how to-”

“it’s ok, you’re fine. just breathe, ill guide you. go slow, yeah?” he reassured her. in the heat of the moment he had forgotten this was her first time with anyone, let alone him, and yet she’d decided to get on top.

y/n remembered lowering down on him, his grip on her hips allowing him to fill her slowly. lando distinctly remembered her shy moans, the way she tried to stay quiet, aware of the amount of people in the house.

“fuck me, angel. so tight,” he’d said, grunting slightly as she got lower, fighting to keep his hips still whilst she grew accustomed to the stretch, “last bit angel, you can take it.”

“there’s more?” she’d replied, panting slightly as he chuckled at her, “i can’t d-”

she remembered the way their eyes locked as he jutted his hips up into her, filling her whole. he remembered the way her mouth gaped open, and the way her head rolled back as his hands slowly rocked her hips over his length.

lando was gentle with her, kissing her softly throughout, his moans and praises merging together as she grew more confident, falling into a steady rhythm on top of him.

“i love you,” he’d grunted as his hands ran over her skin, trying to remember everything about her - the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she clenched around his cock when she got closer. she reciprocated his sentiment, neither of them shocked at the revelation.

“you owe me a tenner,” max had said to niran the next day, after he’d found the two of them passed out in lando’s bed, smiling to himself.

getting caught -

the two of them gained more confidence with their sex life the following years. lando knew exactly what she needed, and how to make her fold for him. max had described the two as rabbits, going at it like no one’s business, laughing to himself as the trio constructed a new bedframe - the last one meeting its unfortunate ending when lando had taken out his stress on his girl. her legs had been over his shoulders when they heard a snap! and felt the mattress dipping into the broken slat. the paint on the headboard had long been chipped from the constant banging into the wall behind, and one of the legs was coming lose.

it had been mid-season, the two of them finding themselves in his drivers room after an unfortunate race. y/n had tried consoling him, but being comforting and supportive was not working at the time. he’d come round eventually and talk to her but for now, he had her pressed against the wall, her cheek pushed up against it. her skirt had simply been tugged up around her hips, panties to the side as he pushed into her from behind, roughly thrusting as he muttered curses under his breath. his hand was about to snake around her waist to toy with her clit when the door flung open.

“land- OH SHIT!” a voice had called out before dissolving into giggles, followed by the door slamming shut again. the shocked face of daniel ricciardo, followed by his distinct laugh, was something y/n was sure would never leave her brain. the interruption hadn’t bothered lando, the two of them were both covered enough for daniel to have seen too much, and so he took it in his stride, bringing them both to a finish soon after.

it had taken a while for y/n to look daniel in the eyes again without wanting to drop dead on the spot, her boyfriend simply smirked at the memory.

club, cameras, cars -

lando’s body was pressed up against hers, packed together in the busy club, their bodies moving in time with the beat. his hands stayed firmly on her waist, telling her it was so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but realistically it had been his way of keeping her close to him. close enough that he could drop his head to hers, joining their lips together in a deep kiss. her tongue dragged along his bottom lip, before her teeth nipped at him, pulling away slowly to catch her breath. his hips grinding into hers, her hands running through his curls.

she was obsessed with him, his unbuttoned shirt, the way his necklace peaked through - she was feral for him.

he looked up momentarily, glad to meet max’s eyes, who directed him to the corner where a man similar in age was filming the interaction between the couple. he leant down to her ear again, so that she could hear him over the loud bass.

“someone filming us,” he told her, feeling her body tense slightly, “you wanna get out of here?”

she’d nodded at him. being filmed by anyone and everyone was nothing new for her, although she wished people would have some concept of privacy. it was somewhat infuriating, but she guessed that was the price she paid for loving the man in front of her. his eyes had softened at her, noticing her anxiety - she didn’t get anxious when people captured them driving around, or just living their normal lives. she did however when such intimate moments were filmed and posted on twitter for the world to see. people had strong opinions - strong opinions that they shared online all whilst hiding their own identities.

they walked next to each other, his hand clutching hers protectively as they said goodbye to max. a few cameras flashed as they walked towards lando’s car, the odd fan approaching him to sign something - they assumed someone had leaked where they were. it was these interactions she didn’t mind, the ones that didn’t make her feel like her whole life was being dissected by the media.

“’m glad max pointed him out,” he started as they climbed into the car, “don’t want to imagine how far i would’ve gone if he hadn’t.”

“you would’ve fucked me in the middle of a club?” she spluttered out, turning to stare at him as he pulled onto the main road.

“i’d fuck you anywhere, angel,” he replied with a shrug.

“you are the pr teams worst nightmare,” she joked, shaking her head at him again.

“hey!” he defended, “since when did loving my girlfriend become a crime?”

“it’s not,” she conceded, smirking to herself at her next statement, “the real crime is the fact you’re not pulling into that lay-by right now.”

“i- wha-,” he stuttered, taken aback at her boldness, “here? right now?”

“why not? there’s no one around.”

he didn’t bother indicating, pulling the car into the side lane, and hurrying to turn the lights off. his free hand adjusted the seat, rolling it back as far as it went before reaching over to grab the woman besides him. she clambered over the centre console, landing not-so graciously on his lap.

the whole interaction was messy and lacking in any decorum. his cock was deep inside her, stretching her out as he thrusted up into her. with every bounce her knees hit the side of the door or the centre console, sure to bring bruises to the skin from the sheer impact. she leant forwards into him, his hands trailing under her dress to squeeze at her breasts.

“baby, lean back a bit,” he had told her, desperate to see her face.

“lan, if i lean any further back im gonna hit the horn,” she said, still adjusting herself to lean up.

“you can hit my horn,” he retorted, giggling to himself at the childish joke.

“don’t make jokes when you’re inside me,” she begged, sighing at the man in front of her.

the counter -

y/n had remembered their move to monaco fondly, lando had been living there for a few months before she made the move herself. she recalled the heartfelt goodbye with her family and friends, her entire life packed into boxes and a suitcase as she moved to a country she’d never even visited. the move felt right, especially after 3 years together - 2 months of long distance was hard enough, neither of them could imagine spending anymore time apart. she’d set herself up as a small time content creator, working closely within quadrant to build up a sufficient income to support herself in between races. lando’s fans loved the snippets of domestic lando, but they also appreciated her wicked sense of humour and her biased insight on the world of motorsport.

once she’d settled into life at the new flat, traces of her personality dotted around, the woman found herself on facetime to her mum giving her a virtual tour.

lando had been out of the flat, spending his morning training, returning home sweaty but overjoyed to hear the sounds of his girlfriends voice travelling through their home. taking the opportunity to sneak up on her, he crept around the hallway, moving quietly towards the kitchen.

“praying my B in french GCSE is gonna come in hand- AH!” y/n yelped, almost dropping her phone as lando pounced on her shoulders, shouting boo! as he did. the older woman on the phone laughed as her daughters face went from startled to glaring at the boy behind her.

“i better leave you two be,” her mum had told them, smiling at the camera and waving slightly to the couple. the shock of her youngest child announcing that she was moving to a different country was wearing off gradually - the happiness of her daughter being with someone she’d secretly rooted for their entire childhood taking over.

“bye mum!” “bye y/m/n!”

y/n had placed the phone beside her, leaning back to rest on the counter. lando had fallen into her embrace, hands wrapping around her waist as he pressed kisses across her entire face. she leant into the kiss, joining their lips together in what had started so innocently. in what had started as such a wholesome day, talking to her mum about the new flat and spending time with the man she loved, quickly turned into something much more.

he’d soon noticed how the counter perfectly lined up with her waist, smirking into her lips as they kissed, before his hands twisted her waist, turning her by the hip until she was pressed up against the marble. her back arching as he bent her over, grinding her ass into him as she did. he’d tugged at her jeans, pulling them down her legs slowly, her lace panties following soon after. he’d allowed her a moment to step out of them, kicking her clothes across the kitchen floor, before kicking her feet further apart. his strong hand gripped her hip, stabilising her frame as he guided his cock through her folds, covering it in her slick before pushing himself into her fully. she moaned out for him, her hands searching for anything to grip onto for support, settling on wrapping around the coffee machine.

the counter pushed on her lower stomach, the pressure sending waves through her body as she tightened around him. he grunted at the feeling, his fingers finding their way to her clit, falling into a natural rhythm as he always did. lando knew her body like it was his own, he could map every bump, every scar, every freckle that adorned her skin. he knew where she needed him, and how.

“im gonna cum,” she’d whimpered pathetically, embarrassed at how quickly she fell apart for him.

“already?” he asked cockily, his hand landing harshly on her ass. lando took her moment of shock to run his hand up her back, his fingers settling at the base of her hair. he gripped at the roots, tugging her entire body back into his, her face settling next to his. he could hear the way she panted, the way his name tumbled from her lips like a mantra.

“always take me so well,” he moaned in her ear, exhaling as he did. the feeling of his breath hitting the skin of her neck sent her over the edge. she fell forwards, legs shaking beneath him.

lando’s hands moved back to her hips, holding her up so that she wouldn’t fall as he pushed her into the counter again. he thrusted into her for a minute more, his pace growing sloppier as he reached his own climax. y/n whined at him, overstimulated and sore - her noises short circuited his brain, and soon after he was filling her up, his cum leaking from the sides as he rode out his own high.

they panted together, lando pulling his cock out as they fought to catch their breath.

“how did we manage to fuck in the kitchen before our actual bedroom?” she chuckled, moving to grab her discarded clothes and shuffling towards the bathroom.

“never gonna be able to cook in here without thinking about this,” he replied with a shake of his head, as he followed her out of the room with a final glance at the counter. the coffee machine now skewed, water puddled around it from where she’d knocked the tank.

“lando norris? cooking? that’ll be the day the world spontaneously combusts,” she teased.

jealousy -

y/n had accompanied lando and max to the motogp event, finding herself in a deep conversation with someone she had hung around with during the karting days. she hadn’t expected to see him there, pleasantly surprised to catch up with an old friend who’d she’d spent a lot of time with growing up. she honestly saw no harm in it, lando and max had disappeared to film content of the day, so she saw no issue in speaking to him rather than sit alone, twiddling her fingers.

lando, however, was fuming not happy. he trusted his girlfriend in any situation, it was other men he didn’t trust, especially when he walked up to find y/n laughing loudly with a man he vaguely recognised.

“y/n, we’re leaving now,” lando told her, clenching his fists at his sides rather than taking her hand.

“oh- ok,” she replied, a little startled at his tone, “bye sam! was lovely seeing you!” she said to the man, turning on her heel to catch up with her boyfriend.

“lovely to see you!” lando mocked childishly when she rejoined his side, “yeah bet he thought it was lovely to see you.”

“what is your problem?” she asked, stopping short of the car, arms crossed over her chest.

“what’s my problem? you. him. the way he looked at you?”

“are you serious?” she asked, taken aback, “he’s an old friend lando. grow up.”

“grow up?” he repeated, “you don’t see me laughing like that with old friends.”

“whatever you do with old friends is not my problem, i trust you to make the right decision. but clearly, you don’t trust me,” she responded, marching past him and climbing in the back of max’s car.

the two barely spoke for days, the silence made worse by the fact they were stuck together in max’s spare room. y/n spent her days with P, lando with max - the other couple desperately trying to speak sense into the two of them, knowing just how stubborn they both could be.

y/n finally believed their spat was over when he settled between her legs, eating at her like a man starved. she was stubborn, but never too stubborn to pass up the chance of his tongue on her heat. his hands gripped at her thighs, his grip leaving bruises on her skin. lando’s tongue swirled around her clit before sucking at her harshly. she was so close, hands gripping at anything - his hair, the bedsheets, his hands. but then she felt nothing, only cold air against her desperate heat as lando pushed himself away and stood up to move across the room.

she sat up on her arms, staring at him in complete disbelief.

“what the fuck lando?”

“you know what you need to do if you wanna cum,” he’d told her, dark eyes staring back at her. he wanted an apology, she wasn’t going to apologise. she’d done nothing wrong.

“good idea, lan. ill see if sam’s free,” she shot back, leaning forward to grab her phone from the bedside table.

that had been her mistake. potentially too brave in the moment, y/n genuinely didn’t know if she regretted even alluding to messaging the man causing the couples squabble.

“i didn’t mean it!” she’d moaned out, feeling his hand slap against the skin of her ass harshly, the feeling sending shots of pleasure back to her core, before he rolled her onto her back once more. he freed his cock quickly, roughly thrusting into her with no warning.

“’m sor- m’sorry,” she said again, her legs pulled harshly over his shoulders as he fucked into her. he wasn’t even mad anymore, yet he rammed into her as if to teach her a lesson, as if he was literally fucking the attitude out of her. she moaned out loudly at the feeling, lando’s grunts like music to her ears.

“you gonna behave now?” he asked her, pace remaining relentless.

“i wi- will,” she choked out, “i promise.”

“good girl, that’s more like it,” he said, satisfied with her remorse as his fingers returned to her clit.

she came hard and fast around him, the tightening of her walls bringing him to his own climax. he pulled out slowly, rolling to lay next to her as their chests heaved in unison.

“you know i do trust you, right?” he asked, finally willing to talk to her about the argument.

“i know. i just wish you’d show it, rather than getting angry when i speak to any man.”

“im sorry,” lando apologised, pulling her into his side and pressing a kiss to her head, “im trying my best, m’trying not to let jealousy get the better of me.”

“thank you,” she offered him, “and ill try not to provoke you. even if it does result in the best sex of my life.”

he chuckled lightly, his breathing finally stable. but no quiet moment between the two would ever stay quiet for long.

“im glad you guys made up and that, but next time can you not be so loud?” max shouted through the door, making the couple blush as they realised they’d forgotten that he was home, “oh, and you’re cleaning those sheets.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

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cinnamon-girl-writes · 13 hours

Text

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman . . .

gentlemanly things the jjk men do ! feat. gojo, nanami, geto, choso, higuruma, yuuji, megumi

fluff, headcanons, dubious grammar

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

gojo

Im’ma be real, it was hard af to come up with something serious for this man

but I’m gonna go with: he always opens doors for you and never lets you open them yourself

whether it be your car door or a restaurant, he’s always there just a step ahead of you to make sure his princes doesn’t have to do any work <3

*coughs* he also does it to stare at your ass from behind *coughs*

nanami

opposite of gojo, i couldn’t stop thinking of gentlemanly things this man *wouldn’t* do— anyways

nanami is the man who compliments you on more than just your appearance <3

of course, he tells you how beautiful you are all the time

but the best thing about this man is when he tells you how smart you are, or how he loves that your jokes always make him laugh

he’ll compliment your dtermined attitude or your loving nature

if you’ve been working really hard lately, he takes notice and tells you that you’re doing great

overall just. 10/10

geto

soooo geto has a history (in canon) of feeling unneeded/underappreciated

SO wwhat i think he’d always do for his partner is make a deliberate effort to tell them that

every day he finds a way to tell you: you matter to me and i need you in my life <3

sometimes it’s random, like when you’re laying and the couch and he tells you

or sometimes it’s more of a show, like him taking you out to dinner just to show you he appreciates you

choso

while romantic relationships are a little new to him, he treats his relationship with you very seriously

that being said, he notices whenever you’re stressed out about something

so to help you with this, he takes on whatever tasks are burdening you: your kids are driving you crazy? he’s great with kids. the dishes on your counter have been sitting there for two weeks? don’t worry, he’s got it

overall probably one of the best on this list

higuruma

this man- *ovulates*

anyways . . . like nanami he’s another epitome of gentlemanliness, however higuruma doesn’t have that much free time to spend with you because of his job as a lawyer

so when he is with you, he deliberatly asks you about how your day was. he’ll listen to every word you say and ask questions, wanting to get every detail out of you (and also, maybe he just likes the sound of your voice :))

but regardless, hearing about your day is very important to him

oh, you’ve got gossip about people he doesn’t even know?? he’s SAT

he listens to every detail, stopping you to ask questions and make sure he’s following the story

the KING of giving advice

yuuji

yuuji doesn’t necessasrily stick to formalities, but one thing he always pays attention to is the SIDEWALK RULE <3

like you swear this guy has a sixth sense or something because you literally never find yourself walking on the outside of the sidewalk

if you ever ask him about it, he just says he doesn’t do it on purpose but just always puts your safety first

megumi

poor megs didn’t really have a great example of being a gentleman growing up :( so this stuff is kind of hard for him

i would say in general he just has a pretty hard time with giving/recieving affection

but that being said, megumi puts a lot of thought into everything in your relationship

dates that he plans out are always extremely well thought out according to your interests and likes

his gifts are usually hand made, but if he does pick something out it’s very personal, usually something that you’ve been mentioning a lot lately

a/n: no i did not inclde toji because as much as i love his broke ass, for the life of me i could not think of one single gentlemanly thing about him

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pucksandpower · 17 hours

Text

Yeah … I’m not sure how I feel about this.

I know Logan is far from the best driver on the grid but the way Williams has treated him this season and actively made it hard for him to show improvement, continue to develop, or work to succeed has really just left a bad taste in my mouth. Essentially dropping Logan for lack of performance when much of that was likely due to the team itself (considering the whole chassis issue and then the fact that he was made to run an experimental setup being tested for Miami last weekend) is not it.

Kimi is a fantastic driver — one who I have no doubt will succeed in Formula 1 soon — but he has barely even had a chance to find his bearings in Formula 2. What is the purpose of further shaking up his season only to put him in a backmarker car? There is no need to rush his development and put unnecessary pressure on his shoulders.

I just don’t see how this would make any sense.

#this feels like one big mess of mismanagement waiting to happen #and didn’t williams claim they aren’t just mercedes’ junior team anymore?#but yet …#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #logan sargeant #ls2 #kimi antonelli #williams racing

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slayfics · 2 days

Text

Eijiro teaches you how to use his headpiece.

1.2k words

“You guys are all wrong,” Minoru declared. “Yaoyorozu has the best hero costume.”

“Can you not be a perv just once Mineta!” Mina yelled, bonking him on the head.

You all had been discussing who had the best hero costume in the common room of the dorms before Minoru interrupted with his own opinions.

You rolled your eyes ignoring him and moving on, “Kirishima, I think your costume is pretty cool,”

“What really?!” The redhead perked up on the couch.

“No way! How is that any less of a pervy answer than Mineta?! Come on, what about me? My jacket is pretty cool!” Denki said eager for attention.

Mina ignored Denki’s desperate cry for praise and turned to you, “It is kind of an interesting choice since Kirishima’s costume is basically just pants,” Mina giggled.

Your cheeks flushed at your friend’s words, “No no! I’m not trying to be a creep or anything!” You backtracked.

“It’s ok don’t worry! I uh- didn’t think that” Eijiro said blushing alongside you.

“I was thinking about your headpiece when I answered, you designed it yourself?? It looks so cool!” You spoke trying to redeem yourself.

“Nah- don’t lie. You just like watching him run around without a shirt,” Denki huffed.

“Leave them alone man!” Eijiro said shoving Denki off the couch. “Yeah, I designed it myself,” he spoke turning his attention back to you. A prideful smile on his face from your praise.

“That’s really impressive!” You smiled. “How does it work?? Is it hard to get on?”

“The thing breaks every time he’s in a fight! It’s not that impressive…” Denki mumbled to himself on the floor.

Eijiro ignored him and answered, “It just latches on- it’s pretty simple. I can go grab it and show you.” He offered.

“Oh-ok!” You blushed, as he sprang off the couch to head up to his dorm.

“Wait!” Mina called. “Why don’t you just go upstairs with Kirishima? Then he doesn’t have to make so many trips up and down the elevator,” Mina suggested with a sly smile.

“Are you kidding me?!” Denki exclaimed, but Mina covered his mouth.

“Go you two!” Mina encouraged, shooing at you both with her free hand.

“I uh-,” you hesitated on the couch.

“It’s ok with me,” Eijiro spoke but quickly added- “I mean as long as you’re comfortable with it!”

“I am, as long as you don’t mind me in your room,” you answered.

“Go go go, we’ll be here. Right, Kaminari?” Mina said aggressively to him. Denki giving up just nodded and rolled his eyes at Mina.

“Alright let’s go,” Eijiro waved at you to follow him, with ab apprehensive smile.

Once you both were out of earshot Mina let out a laugh. “Man, they need so much help,” she declared.

“Maybe but- you don’t have to be pushing them together,” Denki complained.

“Oh, get over it. They have been crushing on each other for a long time now.” She answered.

The elevator ride up to Eijiro’s room was long and filled with awkward conversation.

“Could I get in trouble for being here?” You asked nervously.

“Nah I doubt it- besides I’m just showing you how my headpiece works right? I suppose that could be useful to know in the future if we’re ever teamed up together,” Eijiro justified.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed nodding happily.

You both made your way to his dorm door. You briefly remembered what his dorm looked like when your class held the dorm competition- but when Eijiro opened the door it was more intense than you remembered. The bright red curtains brought a whimsical sense to the room, and the posters covering the walls illuminated the room with his personality.

“Oh wow,” you exclaimed following him inside.

“I know I know- I already heard it from Hagakure. It’s not a very appealing room,” Eijiro said sadly.

“No! I love it!” You sang.

“What really?! Thanks,” he said smiling and blushing as he looked around for his hero costume. “All right, here it is!” he said, pulling his headpiece out.

Eijiro sat on his bed, and you nervously followed his lead sitting next to him.

“It’s easy I just put it on like this-,” he said placing it on, “then lock into place on the side.” The headpiece made a snapping sound as he locked it in.

“Oh, I guess that is really easy,” you laughed nervously feeling silly for asking how it worked now. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah, sure!” He answered and took off the headpiece, handing it to you.

It was heavier than you expected and cold to the touch. "Wow, this doesn't bother you?"

"Nope! Keeps me protected from getting hit in my weak spots," He answered.

"Can I try?" You asked.

Eijiro nodded and chuckled in amusement thinking it was cute you wanted to try on a part of his costume, but when you moved closer and placed your hands around his head he froze. He hadn't realized you meant you wanted to put it on for him.

Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as you were just inches away from him carefully placing his headpiece on.

You secured the metal piece around his face before catching sight of him staring intently at you. His gaze made your hands start to shake as you went to snap the headpiece in place. His vermillion eyes sparkled as he looked at you with a bashful smile.

The warmth of your hands on either side of him was intoxicating and he felt how could get lost there when suddenly, "Ow!" he yelped.

Your shaking hands had caused you to pinch the side of his face as you snapped the headpiece together.

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY!" you exclaimed springing up off the bed.

"It's ok!" Eijiro said, reaching his hand out to reassure you.

You wanted to believe him, but you saw a drop of blood drip down to his cheek.

"NO, YOU'RE BLEEDING!" You yelled, horrified with yourself. You booked it to his bathroom to find some first aid supplies. Eijiro followed behind you- blushing at you rummaging through his stuff in a panic.

"It's ok promise- but let me help you!" He offered.

"Oh man, you're right! First, I hurt you then I rummage through your stuff without asking! I'm the worst!" You proclaimed, dropping your head into your hands.

"No no! Really, it's not a big deal!' Eijiro said attempting to calm you as he brought out a band-aid.

"Here let me help you please!' You begged.

Eijiro smiled sweetly and handed you the band-aid and a cloth, then took his head headpiece off so you could inspect the injury.

Your eyes misted at the sight, "I'm so sorry- that looks like it hurt." You sniffed and dabbed at the injury gently with a cloth to clean off the blood. You moved closer to tend to him, and Eijiro once again felt lost in your close presence.

He smiled down at you, cheeks tinting as your hands grazed his cheek to place on the band-aid. "Believe me- I'm not even thinking about that right now," he said voice low and sultry.

You caught his gaze and blushed at realizing how close you had come to him in your panic. A blush dusted your own cheeks as you tilted your head and asked, "What are you thinking about then?"

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55

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ladymunson · 2 days

Text

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by REBLOGGING

Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

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thoughtsandmusingsandideas · 2 days

Text

Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU

A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!

Dehya

You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites

Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob

They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.

Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters

It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe

At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her

You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-

Everything is still

Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused

“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”

Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes

And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is

(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)

During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.

“Hey, let’s get married.”

And after choking on her water, she agrees to it

Congratulations! You have a wife!

The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable

Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons

It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door

(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)

They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away

“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him

“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.

And then everything clicks

“Wait, I’m a god?”

The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours

Arlecchino

When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine

You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!

It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person.

It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-

Waitâ€¦ you can still breathe!

You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.

You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)

It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin

But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either

And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet

He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact

Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close

Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract

It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)

And after that it only takes a week before he slips up

He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive

It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.

“Mother would like thisâ€¦” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.

A flash of heat at his back. “â€¦ What did you just say?”

After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.

You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore

And then you make eye contact

Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.

Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.

Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.

At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem

You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it

Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple

After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests

“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”

“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.”

The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance

Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?

You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.

Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.

Also Freminet is the flower girl

#genshin sagau #sagau #sagau genshin #sagau x reader #sagau forgotten!creator au #genshin impact sagau #sagau cult au #Sagau forgotten!creator au #sagau Dehya #Sagau Arlecchino #Sorry if my writing is inconsistent I won’t fix it #forgotten!creator au

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bombuni · 2 days

Text

contains: poly!ateez x gn!reader, soft ateez taking care of u, non-verbal and self-isolating reader, implied depressed/chronically ill reader

you: babies i think it’s better if you don’t come over tonight

joong: Everything ok?

minmin: but im hungry and u said u’d make dinner :(

woo: WE’RE HUNGRY!!! OM NOM NOM

you: just not feeling it tonight. sorry

You shut your phone off with guilt weighing in your heart. You had promised your boys a nice home-made dinner after a hard week full of non-stop practicing. You knew they’d been looking forward to it the entire week, the stress-free time they’d get to spend with you, but, there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been growing the past week and now it’s big enough to stop you from doing anything else but wallow in your thoughts. Now the guilt just adds to it.

There’s times when you don’t have energy for anything. Not even for your favorite people on Earth and it’s simply your body’s fault. At least you try to tell yourself that.

There’s no response to your last message and you sent it an hour ago. Usually you’d be suspicious about the lack of whining and bickering, but you’re just too tired to worry as fatigue fogs your senses. You’re set for a night of self-pity when your front door unlocks, myriads of voices barging in and breaking the calm of your apartment. You already feel a headache coming on as Wooyoung, like usual, argues about whatever hill he’s chosen to die on.

You want to get up to greet them, but somethings stopping you. The pit in your stomach almost weighs you down, your limbs too heavy to move now. You sigh and surrender to your body’s fatigue.

Seonghwa watches you with a sad look on his face. He knows all the tell-tale signs of your sad ruts by now, the most obvious of all being when you go out of your way to isolate yourself. It hurts him because he wants to help you, but he‘s not quite sure how to do it right with you.

“Sweet thing,” he coos quietly and lays a gentle hand atop yours, “how do you feel?”

His attention turns a switch on in you, feeling yourself melt against his soft touch and caring voice. You shrug, feeling a loss of words. You don’t really have any to describe how you feel. Or rather, there’s a boulder in your throat stopping you from even attempting to say anything.

Hongjoong and San walk over, the latter immediately scooping you up into his arms despite Seonghwa’s protests. Hongjoong leans over the back of the couch, carding his fingers through your hair and tutting at the state you’re in.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easy, you know,” he mumbles.

San looks right at you even if you won’t meet his eyes, trying his best to communicate the worry he has because he knows words don’t work with you when you’re like this. Seonghwa flicks San’s forehead, pulling a loud noise of protest out of him, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the kitchen?”

San responds by pulling you tightly against him and closing his eyes in bliss. Seonghwa grumbles something about disrespect, but walks away to help in the kitchen himself. It’s starting to feel a little warm with San’s irresistible need to touch you and Hongjoong’s eyes not once leaving your form. It gets unbearably hot when you feel Mingi’s lips against the crown of your head, Wooyoung doing the same and immediately jumping into gently scolding you for pushing them away.

Hongjoong wants to agree but he knows it’s not what you need right now. He shushes Wooyoung, “Did you take your meds yet?”

You shake your head. Yunho walks up to you, bending down to hand you your medicine with a kind smile on his face. He takes your hand in his when you swallow your pills, kissing each of your knuckles gently, as if he fears scaring you away.

“Here.” Yeosang passes you a glass of water. There’s eight pairs of eyes on you and you can feel each one. It’s like they’re watching a zoo animal on display and you’d laugh at the thought in any other circumstance.

Jongho stands across you, intently staring you down, “You know you can’t just expect us to leave you alone, right?”

San pulls your head into his chest and throws protective arms over you as if you’re a kid getting a scolding, “Don’t be mean.”

Jongho is about to retort before Seonghwa stops him, “Ok! Ok, what Jongho means,” he kneels down next to Yunho with a gentle expression aimed at you, “Is that we want to help you, sweetheart. And it’s hard to do that when you don’t allow us to,”

Yeosang scratches at his neck as he finds the words, “We know it’s hard for you to do that, but…”

Hongjoong continues for him, “We’re just asking that you try at least. Okay?”

You hesitantly nod into San’s chest and you feel him let out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung speaks up from behind you, “You’re hogging ‘em, Sannie,”

He shakes his head violently and hugs you tighter, “No ‘m not.”

Mingi grimaces, “You totally are.”

It’s all-out war again and your body shakes between theirs as each one tries to take you for themselves. San’s still got a good grip on you as Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho fight to pull him off of you. Wooyoung and Mingi stand back and argue with San, really the only thing they’re good for. Hongjoong and Yeosang grimace and watch the events unfold, only waiting to step in if they notice you get overwhelmed.

But you don’t. You feel warm and loved and happy, and there’s a bubble of laughter forming in your throat and surpassing the boulder that was stuck in you before. You’ll take it one step at a time, and they’ll take that step with you.

bom note: this is for the gays with chronic fear of being emotionally vulnerable. i tried to make readers issues as vague as possible for u. Also realistically i would not want 8 men all up in my space when im in one of these moods but it’s fantasy ok shhh

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #poly ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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cntloup · 3 days

Text

Medieval AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“I know this is too much to take in right now. You can always back out. I don’t wish to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” he utters in a soft and sincere tone while you both sit on the bed with your backs against the headboard.

You offer a small smile through the heaviness in your heart. Is this truly what you want? Can you trust him?

You've spent all night talking and getting to know each other. Although it was mostly you who did the talking. But he answered some of your questions... very briefly of course.

He mentioned that his father was a ‘bloody prick’. But his mother... he truly loved her... still does as you have noticed by the way he speaks about her. And his brother Tommy and Tommy’s wife, Beth and their son, Joseph... all so dear to him.

“All dead.” he replies in a cold, monotone voice after you ask where they are and takes a sip of the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“I’m... so sorry.” you breathe out, shocked at the revelation, not truly knowing how to react.

You can sense the hint of pain in his voice, you can see it in his eyes even though he keeps it all to himself, the walls around him too high and broad, strong but not entirely unbreakable.

And deep down, you wish you could take all that pain away. No human should ever go through what he has.

And you know he hasn’t told you everything. You still have to earn his trust for him to open up to you. And you understand that since he has to earn your trust as well.

He tenses up at your touch as you take his hand in yours, but eventually warms up and turns his hand over to hold yours.

“I’m really sorry. I know this is hard on you too. I never wished to be such a nuisance-”, “You’re not... It’s fine.” he cuts you off, turning his head to look you in the eye and you return his gaze with a soft smile.

But you quickly shy away under the intensity of his glare and turn your head away.

And you’ve noticed the slight edge to his tone. It definitely is difficult for him as well.

Moments pass with a heavy silence settling in the room.

He has been nothing but kind to you, never making any advances towards you, unlike all the other men you have encountered.

Although you can’t help but feel a leaden weight in your chest, almost crushing your heart.

How can you marry a man you barely know?

But you’re aware that you have no choice.

And despite all of that, you can’t help but sense the slight tingle in your heart. He surely makes you feel something... Is it quite love though?

Despite his rough and tough attitude, the seething danger in his eyes, you know there lies a good man beneath it all.

All the conflicting emotions coursing through you make your eyes tear up and you can’t help the sobs escaping you ‘till morning comes as you lay in your bed.

-----

The ceremony is simple... and rushed of course.

As he says his vows, you can feel the sincerity in his tone which makes your heart warm up, almost melting at his words with that deep, gravelly voice.

And he kisses you so tenderly, his lips lingering on yours, making your heart flutter in your chest.

He sends the guests away so you can have your privacy, despite traditions calling for them to stay.

“We don’t have to do anything.” he says softly after you walk into the bedroom, stepping closer to you as you fumble with your dress while looking down, sensing your nervousness radiating off you.

“Really? Are you sure that’s alright?” you ask anxiously, “I’m not going to force myself on you!” he responds, nearly in disbelief that you would think that.

“I know... I just...” you mumble and chuckle nervously, “Alright. I-I'm really exhausted. I think I will go to bed.” you add with a smile, “Alright.” he nods and steps away to change his clothes.

He walks up to you after he notices you struggling with your dress, “May I?” he offers, “Yes. Please!” you respond and turn around so he can untie the straps.

And he does it with so much care and tenderness, the slight brush of his fingers on your skin sending shivers through your body.

As you go on with your nightly routine, brushing your hair in front of the mirror on your vanity table, he sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you.

“What?” you ask with a shy smile as you notice his stare burning through your soul, “Nothing.” he says, returning the smile and looking away for a moment before looking up at you again.

You finish your business and walk towards the bed where he’s still sitting, “You’re staring!” you scold playfully, “I’m merely admiring my wife.” he says with a boyish smile, “Well, thank you... husband.” you reply, looking down with your cheeks heating up.

You settle on each side of the bed, but you can’t help the desire to feel close to him bubbling up inside you, “Can you... please... hold me?” you ask shyly, voice barely above a whisper, “ ‘course, love.” he replies, offering a warm smile before shuffling closer to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Better?” he asks, “Much better.” you nod, nearly melting in his warm embrace.

Maybe this arrangement is not so bad after all.

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kiss-inthekitchen · 12 hours

Text

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all.

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM.

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable.

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows.

And then you give up.

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him.

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy.

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.”

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep?”

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?”

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart.

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?”

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.”

“That’s nice.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound.

“What did you call me for then?”

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.”

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?”

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?”

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds drabble #my fics #couldn't find a cuter pic of spencer on a phone so its payphone image u have to suspend ur disbelief

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hydrus101 · 21 hours

Text

One thing I haven’t seen anyone post about yet is the “should’ve used our left hand” conversation, and it is so so so important to me.

It’s very rare that we get any verbal confirmation that John—who for all intents and purposes only exists in a meaningful physical capacity through Arthur’s left hand—interacts with the world at all unless it’s in dire circumstances where he has to, like the mines in Addison.

We don’t hear him say “let me get that” or anything active almost ever, and we have to infer that maybe he’s moving around, touching things, gesticulating, guiding Arthur in some small way when he says “here!” but it’s never really said explicitly that he touches things idly sometimes. He usually only helps Arthur, like holding the torch, and doesn’t do much for himself. And yeah, perhaps that would be clunky writing, but it bothered me for a little while. I’ve always wanted to see him interact with the world more, touch more things, take a little initiative with the body they’re sharing, even if for practical reasons, but if it’s important to him that Arthur has some semblance in control? If he is considering Arthur’s feelings constantly by tamping down the urge to find and seek and know for himself, increasing that sense of isolation? If he’s trying even harder now to take up less space, to make himself small, in order to assuage the prickling guilt he feels for threatening taking that control back from Arthur? If he’s going to do his fucking damnedest to resist the urge to manifest even when the power is right there at his fingertips? Well, then that’s fucking delicious.

#love love LOVE IT when characters repress themselves out of misguided consideration for others #I love John so much I’m so excited for the John centric season yall you have no idea #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #john doe #arthur lester

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lyv-writes · 18 hours

Note

OKAYY WE NEED DAD!SPENCER REID‼️

okay so Reader is going out for the day for like a little girls day with her best friends and says bye to Spencer and the cute little toddler! Buttt then the toddler starts missing reader and Spencer isn’t sure how to handle it at first, but then he gets the hang of it! <33

AAAA this is so cute omg thank u for this!!! i hope i was able to do it justice <33

spencer reid x mom!reader

words: 1,395

warnings: none really! just spencer being a good step-dad to your daughter, fluff, baby crying, that’s it!! :]

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

“Thanks again, Spence,” you say, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips before tugging your coat off the hook and making for the front door. “Remember, Lila is allergic to kiwi. And her bedtime is 8, no exceptions. She has to go to daycare tomorrow morning.”

You had spent the morning holding Lila, playing with her and soaking up her laughter as much as you could. Spencer knew you had never really been apart from her—going to work was one thing, but there was a guilt that came with taking the day for yourself. He watches with a fond smile as you ramble through the list that you had already repeated to him twice and does his best to reassure you, nodding along despite having already memorized it.

Pre-made food in the fridge.

Medical information on the fridge in case of emergencies.

Call if she gets too fussy.

“Oh!” You say, halfway out the door before turning back to Spencer, a smile gracing your face. “And don’t let her convince you to give her sweets after dinner. She’ll ask you for fruit snacks, all cute, then she won’t sleep and it will be hell in the morning.”

“No fruit snacks after dinner, got it,” Spencer said, following your line of sight to Lila sitting on her plush rug in the living room, toys surrounding her as she played. Your face softened, affection swimming in your eyes and he could practically hear the thoughts going through your head. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he gently guides your face back to meet his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, tone soft as your shoulders sag at the understanding behind his words. “You deserve to have a day with your friends. I think Lila can handle playing dolls with me for a few hours.”

His phrasing made you giggle, picturing Lila’s pouting face, wagging her little finger at Spencer when he takes something too literally, or doesn’t do it the way she wants. For some reason, Lila is never happy with the voices Spencer does, and after a year-and-a-half she still gets that same little pinched brow whenever Spencer holds a doll in his hand, high-pitched voice mimicking a princess’s until she yanks the toy out of his hand with a firm, yet cute, “No, ‘Penth.”

Without fail, hearing his name in her little voice makes his heart soar, pride filling his chest even if she’s scolding him, wagging her little finger as she says it. He’d always been hesitant at the idea of being a father, whenever he pictured his future that was always a blurry part, but now he couldn’t imagine not having you and Lila in his life.

Searching his face, you finally come to the conclusion that he’s being sincere and a bright smile covers your face. Spencer had come to terms a long time ago, far before the two of you were even dating, that he would do anything to make you smile. A sense of pride wells in his chest knowing that the smiles you give him are just for him, a special glint in your eyes every time.

Between work, and Lila, there was hardly any downtime to just relax. Your evenings were often spent wrangling Lila into bed, usually with Spencer if he’s not away for work. Spencer made it a point to be home in time to have dinner with both of you as much as he could, slowly getting involved in her night time routine. She was 6-months-old when you and Spencer began dating, and while it took some getting used to at first, Lila began reaching for Spencer with a giggle and a giddy squeeze soon enough.

When your friends suggested a girl’s spa-day, Spencer was quick to encourage you to go. Having a toddler made it hard to have a social life, especially when your friends weren’t moms themselves. Lila had warmed up quickly to Spencer, which was the biggest relief, and it was hard to find a reason to say no when Spencer offered to babysit.

“She’s gonna be my daughter,” Spencer said, a fond smile on his face as the two of you spoke conspiratorially in the kitchen. “I already think of her as mine, I’d be happy to watch her for the day.”

Your heart swelled hearing his words, and you couldn’t help but say yes when he put it like that. Spencer, you, and Lila being your own happy little family was all you could ever ask for, and it meant more than Spencer could ever know that he had been so welcoming and understanding. He was a dream.

With a final glance at Lila and a sigh, you’re pressing another unhurried kiss to Spencer’s lips, that same lil dazed smile on his face that he got after every kiss, even after nearly 2 years. “Thank you, Spence. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your forehead—you were gonna be gone all day, he had to get his fill while he could. “Now go before you miss your appointment.”

With a final kiss, Spencer watches as you walk down the front steps, drive away, waiting until he can't see your car anymore before he’s turning around and closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Lila is already looking at him, eyes glancing between the door and him before her small voice is heard over the cartoon playing on the tv.

“Mama?”

“Mama went to the store,” Spencer cooed, lowering himself down to sit on the floor in front of her and her array of toys. “She’s coming back, don’t worry.”

“Mama s’ore?” she whispered in her small voice, her wide eyes blinking slowly at him before her lip began to tremble. It broke his heart to see her eyes, which looked so much like yours, gloss over with tears.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Spencer said, scooping her up in his arms. “She’s coming back for you. She’ll be here soon!”

With a sharp wail for her mom, the tears that had been welling up began falling in big drops, hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she cried. Hurriedly, he began to bounce her in his arms, mimicking the way he had seen you do it countless times. He’s shushing her in a soft voice, whispering soothing words in the hopes that they’ll at least calm your crying.

Spencer wracks his brain, trying to sift through the information he had gleaned from the parenting books he had been reading for the past two years—he had started as soon as he came to the conclusion he would ask you out. Would showing her pictures of you work? He didn’t want to make things worse by making her miss you more, but maybe seeing your face would soothe her.

Transferring Lila to one hip, he fishes his phone from his pocket and opens the album of your photos, showing her various selfies, focusing on pictures he has of the two of you. After a couple of minutes her sobs quieted to sniffles and soon enough she was swiping through the pictures herself and giggling every time she saw your face.

With her swiping, it landed on a video, one he had taken of you reading a story to her before bed. At the time he had thought the voices you were using for the characters were so funny, hiding his own laughter behind his hand so that he could capture the sound of Lila’s giggles.

Spencer watches as she giggles along with herself, laughing at the way she reacts when you tickle her tummy. Spencer cant help the fond laugh the slips from his lips at the sight, bright grin tugging at his cheeks at your rosy smile.

When you arrive home that evening, only the kitchen light is on downstairs, the faint light from your bedroom guiding you as you softly push open the door. A warm smile paints your face as you slip your phone from your pocket, taking quite a few pictures of Lila, fast asleep atop Spencer’s chest, her favorite book lying next to his relaxed hand. His soft breaths rustle the hair at Lila’s scalp, her hand loosely gripping the edge of his sleeve as she sleeps.

Tip-toeing around the room, you shed your clothes from the day, slip on some pajamas before placing Spencer’s book on the nightstand. Slipping softly under the covers, you curl yourself around Spencer’s side, hand resting on Lila’s back as you fall asleep, comfortable with the people you love the most.

#theres a lot of firsts in this for me #but dad!spencer is so cute and sweet #thank you for this request!!!#my writing #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x mom!reader #criminal minds #lyv answers!

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pedge-page · 3 days

Note

I can imagine preggo wife literally talking and talking and talking in the middle of a movie and gets offended and leaves when Joel tells her to quiet down

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Yapper

notes: Oh I had fun writing this! no warnings (maybe some Fugitive and Raiders spoilers), Enjoy!

- - - -

Joel’s pretty excited for movie night. It’s one of the few films the two of you don’t argue over and can pretty much watch the entire way through without disruption.

Or at least, it used to be.

Joel settles against the couch armrest with his feet propped up, knees bent slightly so you have room to sit in front. He’s got any snack you could think of within an arm reach away, and he’s got the title on pause so you can scooch your fat booty and big belly comfortably. Usually takes about 15 minutes of squirming, smacking his chest to “fluff” it up, adding a pillow at his crotch, then taking it away because you like his hard cock there instead, elbow in his groin and then his knee, then you gotta get up to pee before starting the whole process over.

“OK Im ready!” You say after 15 minutes on the dot, snuggling close to him with the back of your head rested against the crook of his neck.

He finally hits play, and the Lucasfilm logo flashes across the screen. The tropical forest and ominous music plays as the familiar font of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark fade on to the screen.

“Joel. Joel. Hey Joel.”

“Y-yes?”

“Did you know Indiana was named after George Lucas dog? Who also was the physical inspiration for chewy?” You ask rhetorically.

It takes him a second to understand you’re asking him a question. “What?”

“Chewbacca! From Star Wars!”

“Oh ok neat,” he says with some enthusiasm, but quick to end it and get back to watching the movie—

“Yeah also Sean Connery is also apparently—well guess how much older he is to Harrison Ford.”

“Um—I don’t—I don’t know.” Joel says slowly, watching as Indy carefully removes the sand from the pouch and weighs it to the gold idol.

“C’mon, guess!”

“I really don’t know, can we—“

“12 years older than Harrison in Last Crusade! My mom was like ‘WHAT no way’ and I was like ‘Yes way’ and she was like ‘He's his father and he's got all that white in his hair and receding hairline’ and I was like ‘Joel's only in his late 30s and he's got white in his beard.’”

Joel can’t hear a damn thing happening on screen except the shouts about hating a pet snake named Reggie. “Wha—“

“Not that you look anything like Sean Connery in Last Crusade. Maybe in like Bond —oof he was the hottest Bond. Plus you got like a receding beard-line with all the patches, I don’t know, but my mom was like ‘Ya know Joel's got more white hair lately since you've been pregnant’ and I was like ‘Nah uh’ and she was like ‘Ya huh’ and I was like ‘Huh I wonder why that is…?’ Anyway but nope only 12 years between him and Ford—“

Joel turns to look at you with a frown, a bit confused and amazed at how you have so much to say, right now, oblivious as ever.

It doesn’t phase your rambling one bit: “—Like damn, but you know Harrison Ford has always been handsome. But like in the bad boy kind of way, not like handsome upstanding like Christopher Reeves? When I saw The Fugitive, I was like ‘oooohhhh I'll be his wife now’ hahaha! no no I’m sorry, he’s famous and I’m not so that’s why I married you, but that's such a fall film don't you think? Minus the murder and betrayal and fucking Dr Charles Nickles like was he British or not? He was in and out of an accent the whole time? Didn't make sense to me but yeah, it's just such a fall Cozy film.”

Joel looks back at the screen and realizes Marion is already being cornered by the Nazi creep: “Ah huh—honey—“

“OH! I Love her song! It’s kind of like Leia and Han’s from Empire except the last notes are different, like it goes do doooooo instead of da dat dada daaaaaaa, That’s just John William’s for ya, but you’d never notice they were so similar!”

Joel opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out as you continue:

“—Also I know you said my mom made good apple pie but I really wanna try to make it because I want you to like mine more, so I need you to get some apples and pie crust and butter and stuff from the store, I’ll make a list so you can get it. They said we need ground cinnamon but I think ours expired like 5 years ago so don’t forget that. And then I'm gonna tell you how to slice the apples since I can't handle sharp objects and then oh I need you to get the mixer from the top shelf and then you have to mix it all together and slice the top with like little heart patterns and then put it in the oven n stuff ‘cause it's hot and I don't wanna burn OH and that reminds me—!”

“BABE!”

“Hmm? yes?” You ask with a innocent smile.

“Let's try to be quiet and watch the movie ok?”

He offers a gentle smile and nods, pointing towards the TV again and settling to watch it with his beautiful wife.

His very very very unhappy wife. Your eyes haven’t left his, face now downturned in such a scowl, he should be shitting his pants.

You roll your jaw at him once, teeth grinding against one another with slitted, murderous eyes. Joel gulps, too afraid to glance back at you again. His eyes are wide staring at the commotion on the television but, now in your deadly silence, he can’t seen to focus on it at all.

Instead of saying anything, you roll polly up to your feet, arms crossed over your chest defensively as you utter a loud “Hmph!” before storming away from the living room.

He’ll have to deal with groveling tomorrow morning when you might be a little more welcoming. But on the bright side, he’s got way more room to spread out on the couch and he can hear the movie much better now!

.........

He switches it off and runs upstairs to get on his knees by your side of the bed, begging for your forgiveness and promises of a Clyde's milkshake to go.

- - - -

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