#I just think it was a missed opportunity I mean did you see the offended look on the Doctor's face “you didn't say I was hot 😧?”

[seaweedstarshine]

He knows her as soon as he sees her.

Time Lords always do — when they’re looking. And by Rassilon, he has been looking. Afraid of what he’ll find. Afraid he can’t both save Pond’s baby and the naughty friend he loves.

He didn't recognize the child, but then, he hadn’t yet felt how time courses through River's veins. But now — now he can see.

Mels. Melody. The only water in the forest. His bespoke psychopath. His convicted murderer lover, intact. He failed to save the child.

A smile floods his face, and he runs towards her with open arms.

#I just think it was a missed opportunity I mean did you see the offended look on the Doctor's face “you didn't say I was hot 😧?” #mels zucker #river song #eleventh doctor #yowzah #11th doctor #elevenriver #doctorriver #melody pond #new who #doctor who #the doctor #river song growing up as a black girl during her formative years is important to me #but its fine I love Brooke too (I should draw her) #words by seaweed #art by seaweed #If the Doctor had realized who Mels was before she gets shot

[heard-nsfw-is-back]

Eddie loses a ring and he's a little confused but he's put his stuff in strange places before. He's lost it for a week and now he just wants to find it as a matter of principle. His rings are specific and hard to find so he always makes sure to (not) buy them when he sees them. Another week goes by and he meets up with Steve. They're going bowling and he puts his rings in the glove box where he finds his missing ring. "Oh for the. There you are!" Happily, Eddie carefully deposits the other rings in the glove box and Steve just smiles and shakes his head.

They go bowling and Steve wins this time and Eddie treats him to some funnel cake. "I could make this at home you know. It'll be just as good." Eddie gapes, mockingly offended. "All food tastes better when it comes from a questionable source, Harrington. Remember that." Steve rolls his eyes and flicks some sugar at him.

Eddie gets dropped off and he grabs his rings, making sure he's not missing any again, before sliding out the car. Steve blows him a kiss and Eddie mimes grabbing and swallowing it. "Chew your food Munson." And Steve drives away. Eddie crawls in to bed before sitting up. Damn, he missed prime swallowing jokes opportunities.

Years go by and Eddie and Steve are sitting in bed. They've been dating for a while and Steve is holding Eddie's hand messing with the fresh nail polish he did. "Don't mess up my artist's work. He wouldn't appreciate it." Eddie admonished, teasing. Steve smiled and pulls his hand down for a kiss. "Would you ever want to get married?" Steve asks and Eddie could feel his shoulders tense. "Yeah I mean. Yes. I think so. I mean I wouldn't need it. I'd be ok just. I mean it's not legal." Steve hums. "I'd marry you." Eddie starts going through every ring he'd pass by.

Steve slides out of the bed and kneels on the floor, still holding Eddie's hand. "We've survived hell on earth and hell in hell and I am so glad you're in my life. You're beautiful and brilliant and so kind. Would you please marry me?" And pulls out a ring. A beautiful carbon black band with a small gold gem. "Oh fuck that's beautiful." Eddie whispers and scoots over to pull Steve in for a kiss. "Yes. Yes!" Eddie sits up and Steve slides the ring on. They're both crying and laughing and kissing and it's gross and wet and they've never felt more in love.

Later, sweaty and exhausted, Eddie asks how Steve knew his ring size. He answered about how he took a ring he wore on that finger once and brought it to have a ring made to that size. Eddie doesn't remember but Steve looks so smug about it. "It was years ago. Don't worry." Eddie laughs. "Years? I think you need to get your head checked we haven't been dating that long." Steve smiles and looks up at the stick on glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

"We weren't dating." And Eddie is so touched and feels so small and warm. He's been loved for so long and it's a humbling experience. "Can I wear a dress?" Steve laughs, "Of course you can." "Can you wear that sleeveless jacket?" "Uh that's a no." "Can we have a cool cake?" Steve is laughing harder. "You're gonna be a bridezilla, aren't you?"

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things

[jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet]

Burglar in the house

Summary: The boys were trying to surprise you by coming home early from a deployment. They end up being surprised themself.

Authors note; I'm really rusty, if anyone can give me tips I'd appreciate it! (Shut the comment section if you have nothing usefull to say though <3)

Soap

-gets so offended

-secretly impressed

-milks it for attention

Soap nearly trips over the coffee table in his attempt to navigate the dark living room. He's trying to be quiet, trying not to wake you. The plan was to slip into bed without you noticing so he could be the first thing you see when you woke up early in the morning. Two days ago you had whined to him on the phone how you had to wake up at the crack of dawn to come pick him up from base. Lucky for you, the mission had ended just a bit early, giving him the opportunity to take a cab and surprise you.

His hand wraps around the handle of the bedroom door, blood pumping like he's on a mission. It's thanks to that adrenaline that he can avoid the gass bottle you swing at him as soon as the door is open. He can't react fast enough to keep from loosing his balance when you barrel into him, the momentum of your attack causing you to slip.

The air is knocked out of him first by the impact with the floor and then by you landing on his chest. He hits his elbow and curses when the funny bone in it starts singing.

"What the hell. Bonnie?" his eyes squint in the dark, hands warm against your waist.

"Johnny? What are you- I thought you were a burglar! What are you doing here?" you try to scramble off of him, conscious of your full weight on him. His grip tightens and you give up all too easily. Your hands tremble from the fright he'd given you.

"So you try to kill me? And I thought I meant something to you..."

"I wasn't trying to kill you, I thought-" you ramble on until you catch the way his lips quirk up with supressed laughter. His eyes glint with humor even in the little light coming in through the window. Slapping at his chest, you finally pull away and reach to switch on the light. And there he was, the man you missed for almost five weeks now, pinned under you and looking all smug after giving you the scare of your life. "It's the middle of the night, what are you doing sneaking around the house you idiot?"

Still straddeling your boyfriend on the ground, you try to stand, planning to return to your warm bed but he pulls you back down to him.

"You wouldn't leave me all alone on the floor now, would you bonnie?" he's giving you wounded eyes, lips pouty and unbelievably kissable. "See, I hit my elbow!" he lifts it next to his face. You squint at it, leaning close to assess the damage. Only he surges forward and steals a kiss from you, eyes twickeling in delight as you glare at him. In the end you can't stay mad at him when he looks at you like that, but you do insist on taking the smooching to bed.

Ghost

-so proud

-loves that you'd be able to defend yourself in case of an actual break-in

-thinks it's really hot

The house is too quiet when he kicks his boots off, low lights on, meaning you were still awake. You always had some kind of background noise running, silence setting you on edge like it did him. He had planned on surprising you by coming home for your two year anniversary. The mission had run a bit dry with the leads going nowhere and he had convinced Price to give him two days off to spend with you. The flowers he had bought for you now lay forgotten on the bench in the entryway, freeing his hands for a knife.

He's creeping through the house trying to find you when you dart out of the kitchen, roaring a battle cry, slashing at him. He sidesteps you, narrowly avoiding the second attack and disarming you on the third. Your bread knife and his combat knife clutter to the floor as he presses your back to his chest, arms caging you in. You struggle against him, spitting curses at what you think is an intruder. His blood is roaring with adrenaline and the relief of having you safe in his arms

"Bloody hell love, it's just me." he grunts in your ear as you kick at him, arms pinned to your side. You still in his grasp, vibrating with energy.

"Simon? But you aren't supposed to come back until-"

"Couldn't let you spend our aniversary alone. Didn't expect this greetig though." if you didn't know him as well as you did, you might take the rasp in his voice as annoyance. Luckily, you recognize it from many times spent entangled with each other. That and you can feel him poke your ass.

Gaz

-s h o c k e d

-thinks it's the funniest thing in the world

-will not let it go, teases you forever (lovingly)

The music is blasting when he comes home. He kind of expected you to come running, excited to see him after two month of absence. Then again he supposes you didn't hear the door fall shut over your own singing. He follows the sound to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe to watch you sing and dance to your favourite music. You are busy whisking batter in a bowl, hips swaying. When he can finally tear his eyes from your ass, he sees your cookbook, the recipe for his favourite cake open.

The soft smile on his lips quickly fades when you decide to twirl with the bowl in your arms, loud singing turning into a startled screech as you spot the man in your kitchen. You hurl the whisk at him quicker than you can recognize him and it plaps harmlessly against his chest. You both stare at each other, deers caught in a headlight, music still blasting. Slowly, he looks down at the stain on his tshirt, meets your eyes again and you both just double over in laughter.

"So I make it the whole deployment without getting hit only to be attacked by my partner..!" Gaz is wheezing with laughter, pulling you into him. You jokingly hit his chest, shaking with your own amusement.

"Stop, you're getting it all over me!" you grin up at him, loosing yourself in the molten brown eyes you know so well.

"Only fair my little assassin." he plants kisses all over your face and you wrap your arms around his neck.

He will tell this story to the team and all of his friends and your friends. He'll bring it up at every family get together too, just to see you blush and squirm.

Price

-sort of reassured that you can defend yourself

-has to comfort you, you feel so guilty

-trains you in self-defense

When Price opens the door to the bedroom, he has no chance to duck away from the book that comes flying at his face. You have the bedside lamp raised over your head, ready to strike the intruder but recognize him in time. The hardcover book you had thrown at him as a distraction had hit his face, a corner digging into his cheek. He's still not quite sure of what happened when you let the lamp fall to the floor and rush at him.

"John! I'm sorry, I thought you were trying to rob me- You're bleeding, I'm so sorry, let's get you fixed-"

You're shaking as you turn his head this and that way, hands gentle against his cheeks. Tears are gathering in your eyes, guilt swallowing you whole. You're trying to drag him to the bathroom where the first aid kit is when he gently cups your face.

"I'm fine love, look at me." all you can see is the drop of blood from the wound you caused. You watch as it seeps into his beard.

"I didn't mean to hit you, but there's been so many break-ins recently and I heard someone creeping through the house and you aren't supposed to be home until-" he cuts you off with a gentle kiss, slightly chapped lips moving against you until you have to part for air. Foreheads pressed together, you marvel at each other.

"You're good. I'm good. Your book might have a few dog ears though." his eyes crinkle when you blink at him all dazed.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader

[brayneworms]

shoot it up (straight to the heart).

featuring. childe/reader

word count. 5.7k

content. merc!reader, drinking, kissing, masochist!childe because i am not immune to that agenda, sparring, gender neutral reader, childe is a little shit, blood, finger sucking, biting, handjobs, hair pulling, one instance of degradation (whore), light begging and light crying.

synopsis. childe has always found you fascinating; now that his stint in liyue is up and he's scheduled to return to snezhnaya, he takes the opportunity to get something from you he's wanted for months.

notes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, i check the notes and you will be blocked.

"Ahh, the scourge of the complacent! Fancy seeing you here on a night like tonight."

You tip your eyes up to the ceiling of the inn; his voice rings out clear as bells over the chatter and rowdiness, and maybe it's a mark of your attunement to his specific brand of irksomeness that you hear the bounce of his footsteps approach over the general cacophony of laughter and drinks slamming.

There are four empty stools at the bar. He takes the one right next to you, sliding home with a boyish grin. You scratch at your forehead with all the fatigue of a working mother-of-five, catch the bartender's eye, and silently flag down another drink.

Tartaglia whistles as you raise the cup to your lips, making you pause; mead sops against your mouth, burning against raw picked skin. "I see even the alcohol of Liyue is no match for you, scourge."

"Don't call me that," you say flatly, and knock the cup back. There isn't enough booze in this whole tavern to make this a bearable conversation, but at least you could soften the edges. If you got drunk enough, you might be able to pretend he was nothing more than a lurid ginger mosquito buzzing around your head for attention.

Attention you always seemed to grant, no matter how much you swear you'll ignore him.

"Your lovely friend at the funeral parlour told me I might find you here," Tartaglia continues talking even though you're staring at the ceiling praying for patience. "She's pretty fond of you, huh? Can't imagine why, with your prickly attitude—oh, barkeep, I'll have what they're having, please." He flashes a pearly grin at the bartender, who pours him a cup of mead.

"Did you come here just to bother me?" you grit out, staring at the dregs in your cup; it sloshes darkly amongst the dull silver, and you can see a glimmer of a reflection, your eye staring back at you.

"What an ego you sport!" Tartaglia sounds righteously offended. "I came here to drink." And as if to prove his point, he raises his cup to his lips and takes a deep gulp. You can see his pale throat flex as he swallows, the bob of bones beneath papery skin.

He coughs a little as he sets the cup back down, empty. You try not to let your surprise show on your face.

"Liyue mead has quite the burn," Tartaglia comments. "You'd think I'd be used to it after being weaned on that Snezhnyan paint-thinner, but what can I say? This place has a kick."

He leans back on his barstool, a vaguely soft, wistful look passing over his features. Then he says, "I'll certainly miss it."

The cup slips from your fingers, and you curse yourself. "You're leaving?"

Tartaglia smiles, a little sadly. "The Tsaritsa summoned me back. I'll have to take off by the end of the week."

"No shit?" Tartaglia's been posted here and bothering you for way longer than you arrived to act as a temporary guard for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. You weren't sure why such a place needed extra beef with security, but it paid well, and Hu Tao and Zhongli were well-meaning employers and good company, so you could hardly complain. That was the beauty of freelance, after all.

"Oh? You sound disappointed." Tartaglia leans forward, cupping his chin in his hand; his eyes find yours, gleaming in the low light. "What? Don't tell me you're going to miss me?"

You glare at him. "Do people miss the mosquitoes they swat when they're buzzing around their head?"

"You always act like I'm vermin," Tartaglia pouts. "Still, you're having a drink with me—I consider that a victory."

"One of your few," you toast, raising your cup, and Tartaglia's playful expression sullens a touch, like a cloud covering up the sun. "Oh, don't get all kicked-puppy on me. Thought you could take a little pain."

"Better than you know," Tartaglia says with a stunning return to form and a coy grin. You must be just tipsy enough to entertain him, because you don't seize a handful of his bright hair and ram his face into the bar like you briefly consider doing. There wouldn't be much in it for you beyond the satisfying crack of bone and yelp of pain. As for Tartaglia, he'd probably get off on it.

You both down another cup, and now the lines that make up the tavern are starting to blur pleasantly. There's a soft, fuzzy feeling filling you up, like you're made of cotton instead of flesh and blood and magic. A faint flush has made itself known on Tartaglia's cheekbones, lurid against his hair, illuminating the scatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He's surprisingly lightweight, for as hard as you known Snezhnayan liquor to be.

"Would you walk with me?" Tartaglia holds your eye like he's making a promise, though not to you. He says half the things he says like he's talking to someone else, someone you cannot see. He holds out a gloved hand, grinning. "C'mon. I want to show you something."

Your brows knit up, suspicious. "Why me?"

"I'm currently not speaking to any of my other friends," Tartaglia says haughtily. "Sneaks and liars, all of 'em. As, uh, disarming as you are, scourge, at least you're honest. So... c'mon. Humour a man's last wish."

"You're not dying," you say acidly, but you get up. Tartaglia grins, delighted, sweeping up his coat from the barstool and paying out. You follow him out of the tavern; Liyue comes alive at night, you think, the harbour glimmering with a thousand lights, the water lapping at the chalky walls. Tartaglia takes your hand as the tavern door swings shut behind you. He runs warm, and you can see freckles spiralling up his wrist, and before you can protest he's started a brisk pace away from the water.

"The hell?" you mutter, making a weak attempt at taking your arm back. "Hey. Tartaglia. Where are we going?"

"So formal," he calls over his shoulder. "You can call me Childe, you know."

"Like that's even your real name," you roll your eyes. "What difference does it make?"

"Hm. Tartaglia feels more like a title. It's the name I use when I want to intimidate, you know?" He looks over his shoulder at you, the dull blue of his eyes catching in the moonlight. "I'm not foolish enough to think I could ever intimidate you, of all people."

And when he says that, it feels like a compliment. You curse the hot prickling you can feel at the backs of your ears as he leads you through town, up near where the mountains crest. It's all rickety ladders and bridges for a while before you come to a plane nestled between two great rocks. Grass and gravel spill out beneath your feet; in the middle of the wobbly circle is a wooden training dummy with chunks carved out of it. Torches bracket the space, filling the night with shifting bronze light.

It occurs to you briefly that Childe could be luring you out here to kill you, but just as easily the notion flees. He might be Fatui, and he might be insufferable, but the two of you have no real grievances as far as you know.

Besides—you're stronger. And the both of you know it.

You sweep a flat look around the circle and raise a brow. “Homey.”

Childe giggles. “You’re always so sharp-tongued, scourge. I’ve been reflecting on my stint in Liyue in light of everything, you know? What with my leaving so soon. I remembered the first time I saw you fight.”

Your brows draw up, taken aback; this is not a sentiment he has shared with you before. He paces as he talks, starts gesticulating like he’s trying to stir up a wind, though the night is virtually breezeless. Warm and damp and encapsulating. A line of sweat encroaches under your collar. 

“Some treasure-hoarders, they made a chokepoint out in the Guili Planes to intercept traders going down the road,” he tells you, as if this is news. “Zhongli asked me to deal with them myself, ‘cause they were stopping import to the city. But as soon as I got up there to scout it out, I saw you. What you’d left, anyway. This… trail. Like this—this big patch of carnage and you just in the middle of it, going blade-to-blade with this monster of a thief twice your size. Would you believe I was almost arrogant enough to think you needed my help?” His eyes shine feverishly, the moonlight catching off dead-fish-blue. “You brought him to heel like a misbehaving dog. He gave you a bloody nose and you just—just wiped at it like it was nothing. Didn’t it hurt? Always wanted to know if it hurt.”

“It hurt,” you manage, frozen with shock. He’s getting entirely too het-up too quickly, feverish in his excitement, pale cheeks flushed wine-red, and he moves closer as he waves his hands, eyes locked onto you like he’s a dog and you’re his master. It makes your blood feel too thick and too hot in your veins. 

“Thought so,” he breathes. “Thought it must’ve. It kinda… it sings, though. Doesn’t it?”

Stuck, you nod, though you only half understand what he’s talking about. 

Apparently satiated, Childe rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "Hah, sorry. You really get me talking, scourge."

"Don't give me the credit," you mumble. "It's one of your natural talents."

"Wanna see another one of my natural talents?" Childe grins; at your sharp look, he raises his hands placatingly, smile stretching ever wider. "I meant fighting, of course. C'mon. Truthfully, I've been thinking about it ever since that day. Fighting you."

He says that—fighting you—with the same sort of soft reverence one might reserve for making love or worshipping a deity. Like it's the centre of his world, the cell his heart was born from. You wonder how long it's been since Childe's days were anything but fighting, then reckon that that's probably a deliberate choice.

When he holds out a blunt wooden training staff out to you, his hands are perfectly steady. You heft it in your grip, getting used to the weight and balance. You're more accustomed to knives and swords, and small blades you can slip into your boot or belts, but you're not unfamiliar with polearms, exactly.

"Feel good?"

You jump; Childe's pressed closer to you in the time it took to examine your new weapon, and his words are accompanied with a brush of warm air across the back of your ear. "It's okay."

"Good! I want you at top form for this." He slopes off, twirling his own staff between gloved fingers obnoxiously. It makes a faint whistling sound against the warm night air. "Think you're ready?"

"Ready?" You can't help but sneer. "I don't need to be ready to fight a pest. I just do it."

Childe's grin is so wide that the flushed apples of his cheeks turn pointy. "Alright, killer. I've been looking forward to this for a while, and, y'know, I dunno when the next time is I'll meet someone as interesting as you... so don't disappoint me, yeah?"

The first crack of your staffs together sings.

It's an old melody, one you're attuned to, one you think you were born with. Impact shivers up your bones, disturbs the skin in a railroad of gooseflesh, sets your teeth on edge. There's the anticipation, the moment right before the new sensation turns uncomfortable or painful, like pressing down on a bruise, the moment before it starts hurting. The staffs gnash together like wooden teeth.

"You're quick," Childe says approvingly as you draw your arm back to your side, circling him in short steps. His eyes follow the lines of your body like he's trying to set you alight. You're not sure why you're doing this, actually—your relationship with Childe has been nothing but tepid the whole time he's been stinted in Liyue. From your end, anyways. He tends to sort of follow you around like a lost puppy when he has free time. No matter how many times you smack him and send him reeling, he always comes back with a bone clamped between his teeth, looking for fun.

A drink, a fuck. A fight. Maybe it's all sort of the same to him.

Your fight is a dance; Childe is undeniably skilled, and polearms aren't your first choice of weapon, so it's a fairly even fight despite your strength. Several times he moves far too quickly for you to comprehend—like you blink and he's shifted with the moonlight, gone from in front to behind you in a second. Laughing, poking, teasing until your blood is boiling despite the cold.

When you finally land a hit on him, it's sweet. Your staff cracks across his jaw with all the force of his annoyance to you over the last months, and Childe barely has time to widen his eyes before he crashes to the dirt. He lets out a pained grunt as he plants into the earth, and just as you're opening your mouth to gloat—

"Again."

It cracks into the night air like the crash of your staff against his jaw, pursed between wheezing breaths. His voice sings like cut piano strings, dissonant against what is happening. You stand over him, breathing hard, brow cinched as he sprawls in the dirt.

He's got chalky soil all over his pretty light uniform. He doesn't seem to care. Dull blue eyes blink up at you, round as pennies; you can see an angry welt raising on his jaw where your blow had made contact, flaring up scarlet against the pale skin. No doubt it will have flowered into a nasty bruise tomorrow, something the colour of overripe lavender melon.

But Childe grins.

You stumble back, frowning hard, and Childe makes a noise at the back of his throat as he sees you retreat. He scrambles messily to his feet, brushing dirt carelessly from his clothes.

"What?"

Childe cradles his jaw with a hiss. "You pack a punch. But I'm not done yet."

"You said again." You eye him warily, arms still not raised. "What did you..."

He huffs a laugh with a return of that boyish grin. "Ah, caught that, did you? I guess you could say I have a certain admiration for people who can land a hit on me. It's impressive. You're impressive."

Before you can decide whether he's swelteringly egotistical or just a pervert who gets off on pain, Childe lunges, swinging his sparring spear overhead; you shriek and parry it last-minute, your grip faltering enough that the wooden shafts collide with a harsh thwack; you don't fend the blow off completely thanks to your shoddy reaction time, but you manage to avoid getting struck in the head.

"Asshole," you grit out, stumbling left a few paces to get your bearings again; Childe circles you, twirling his spear between deft fingers with a sharp grin.

"I sensed your attention wandering," he shrugs. "You think you can hit me again?"

Your chin juts out, indignant. "Yeah. I'm stronger."

Beneath his lurid red hair, Childe's cheeks colour faintly. "Prove it, killer. Lemme feel it. Hit me—"

And he lunges, spear cracking through the air; this time, you're ready for it, seeing the telltale twitches of his body getting into formation before the pounce. You dodge his first hit, sending the tip of his spear sinking into the dirt, and whilst he's distracted with pulling it out you sweep the shaft of your own against the back of his knees. He buckles with a grunt, staggering, and you use his surprise to barrel your full body weight into his side.

He slips into the dirt, head thudding against the packed earth with a dull thud, and in your momentum you follow. By the time he's blinked the stars out of his eyes, your dagger is pressed up against his throat, nestled amongst the pale skin.

He breathes fast and sharp, a distinct contrast to his general collectedness. Your thighs cage his hips, and even from here you can feel his strength; his skin is shot through with sinew and iron. He could reach up, tussle, throw you off, put up a good fight. But he doesn't. He lays limp like a puppet with its strings cut, looking up at you with big, starry eyes—waiting for you to make the next move.

You come to a rather grim hypothesis.

The blunt tip of the dagger encroaches his skin, pushing in hard enough for blood to bead around it. Childe draws in a ragged gasp.

"Gonna kill me?" His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. He says that like it's an act of worship, like carving his throat out with a cinquedea is akin to leaving incense at a shrine for a far-flung god. Like his blood would be spattered amongst the stars if only you spilled it. Your breath catches; you hadn't been ready for the rush of power Childe's perversion would give you. You can feel it nestling under your skin like a heartbeat.

"I think you could, if you wanted," Childe whispers, and then he shudders at the thought, pretty eyes fluttering closed. He looks like he isn't sparing two thoughts to your hand holding a knife to his throat; skin breaks, and blood makes a thin rivulet down his pale skin. "Mm. Maybe I'd—I'd even let you. You could ask real nice."

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands," you murmur, feeling quite frozen. "Why don't you just be quiet for once?"

At once, Childe falls silent.

His bottom lip has split; probably why he was tonguing at it earlier. Now, with nothing to stop it, blood makes a languid trail down the slope of his chin. With your free hand, with the curiosity of a child petting a stray animal for the first time, you swipe at the trail with the pad of your thumb. You track it up to the seam, the cut, the split, press down hard until the surrounding skin of his lip turns white. You can feel the short, hot shocks of his quick breath against the skin of your nail.

The flash of his tongue surprises you, sliding over the bloody pad of your thumb, cleaning up his mess. A dog licking at its own wounds. Your breath catches, but you've never known when you're wading too deep. It's your one weakness as a fighter. You always think you can take more than you can.

So you press deeper. Your thumb sinks into his mouth up to the knuckle, and Childe lets out a faint groan. There's the ghostly scrape of teeth before his lips close over the skin, tongue swirling over the mess of blood and chalky dirt on the blunt tip of the digit.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you register faintly that this is not normal. Your interactions with Childe have been limited, so far, to snarky deadpans, irritable smacks, and the occasional drink. If you have occasionally caught his eyes lingering on the collar of your shirt, or following you when you enter a room soaked in hilichurl gore, you've made no comment. You'd assumed it would fizzle out, anyway. He's Fatui. They're hardly known for staying in one place a significant portion of time—they're dark-dressed ravens, flocking from place to place and bringing suspicion and misery for a while before taking to the sky again.

But Childe is not scoring the horizon. He's in the dirt with your finger in his mouth, and it looks like he's right at home there.

He releases you with a wet pop. Saliva and blood make a diluted trail down to his chin, and his eyes have peeled open again—heavy and half-lidded, blue slate stone, scoring deep into you. Your body feels hot and too full.

He cracks a lazy smile. "Never seen you speechless before, scourge. Does this mean I win?"

And something snaps.

In a fluid movement, you grab both of his wrists and pin them to the ground beside his head. Childe grunts a sound of surprise as your fingers tighten on his wrists, back instinctively arching from the sudden pressure; one of his legs slips in the earth and knocks against your ankle. He blinks up at you, eyes practically bioluminescent in the night.

"You don't look much like a winner," you snarl.

"Depends on your position."

"You're the Tsaritsa's bitch," you spit. "And if not hers, Zhongli's, or was it Signora who was the last one to get one up on you? Really, you've been failing upwards so much lately it's getting hard to keep count."

Childe's eyes narrow, the first glimmer of defiance sparking in the blue. For the first time you feel him throw his weight behind his halfhearted squirming—he raises his hips to try and buck you off, tugs at your grip on his wrists with renewed vigour. His fighting back shouldn't spark something in you—it shouldn't—but you can feel yourself growing excited.

The thing is, you sort of like killing. People don't get into your line of work if they don't. There's something about holding something down and winning through nothing but sheer strength that makes you feel strong, like you've earned a place on this earth. Watching Childe's jaw tick in frustration the longer he goes without unseating you is making all sorts of dangerous ideas brew in your head.

It's just—maybe it's the drink, or the fight, but the world is still pleasantly pretty and still. And Childe looks sort of gorgeous with his brow all scrunched up like that, the hint of icy anger in his eyes, the gritted teeth. His neck is strained in such a way that bares every jut and bone to you, and you can see his pulse fluttering away under the taut skin, the bob of his adam's apple.

You want to bite it.

Some sort of magnetism pulls you down, nosing at the skin of his neck. Childe grunts, half-frustrated and half-confused when he feels your lips brush over his throat. He smells like salt and mead and copper, labour smells, but his skin here is smooth like it's never seen a day of wear.

"What're you—" Childe huffs out, but his mouth drops open with a choked noise when you seal your teeth in a ring over his neck and bite down. Not quite enough to hurt, you don't think, just enough to satisfy the weird part of you that's sparking for the urge to maim. "Archons, scourge."

Oh dear. His voice has gone all strangled and weak. You dare to release one of his wrists to cup the back of his neck, holding him still, brushing the feathery down of hair on his nape. Automatically, his free hand flies for you, but it stops short, hovering as if unsure.

You can almost feel him weighing his choices in his mind. He has a hand free, and you're not even looking at him. Even if he can't beat you outright, he'd do alright with the element of surprise. He could definitely knock you spinning and flee before you get your bearings.

You wait. Count the fast thuds of Childe's pulse against his neck. The muscles in his free arm go limp, and he wraps it around your waist to pull you closer.

Figuring you're done pretending, you skim your lips up his neck and jaw before catching his mouth in a hard, bruising kiss. Childe moans, softly, into your mouth, hand clenching hard over the fabric of your waist before sliding under. His fingers span out over the small of your back, worn leather and warm flesh, and you shudder despite yourself.

His lips are chapped, and you can taste blood still oozing from the split in the plush lower one. "Someone's sensitive," you gloat, and he huffs. "Not had time to get laid here?"

"What can I say?" Childe's breezy tone would be more believable it it wasn't coming out so strangled. "Been a busy guy. Don't seem to have time for m-many... simple pleasures."

"You always seemed to find time to annoy me, though," you say darkly.

"Less of a luxury, more of a need," Childe breathes. "You make just the most interesting faces when you're irritated."

"Yeah? That get you all wet?"

Childe laughs weakly. "Scourge, please. I'm but a blushing virgin. You'll burn my poor ears off."

You shoot an obvious glance down to the tent straining against Childe's slacks. "I can well believe that."

He squirms in embarrassment, the tips of his ears lighting up scarlet. His eyes blink up at you, the usual lusterless blue fleeing in wake of reflecting the thousands of stars above you, and he seems to glow from the inside out, for a moment. The coppery blood on his face catches the moonlight.

A tongue flicks out to wet his lips, a dog wetting its snout. "Won't you take pity, scourge?" he pleads. "You got me well and truly at your mercy. You win. So..."

Before you can stop to consider the ramifications of your actions, your free hand has already scrambled to his belt buckle. Childe's breath catches, eyes widening as he registers your movements as the brass clinks in the silence. For a moment there's nothing but the hasty shuffling of clothing as you shuck Childe's dirt-streaked trousers down his thighs, his hips lifting to assist. There's a small furrow between his brows, his cheeks alight with a blush that makes his freckles sing against his skin.

The skin of his thighs catches, milk-white in the moonlight. Even here, scars have made their home, pink or bruise-dark, crisscrossing over the flesh in railroads. You get his trousers down past his knees before you stop bothering; he's left in dark underclothes, erection so stiff it's pulling the thin fabric taut, and the slit in his shirt that you've always found obscene betrays the quick, shallow bursts of his breath.

His throat flexes when he swallows. "Are you really going to—mmmgh!"

Childe sputters to a halt with a rather embarrassing high-pitched noise as you cup him through his boxers. You roll your palm experimentally over the tip of the tent, and his eyes flutter shut, rolling back against his skull with a pretty, desperate noise. This side of him is so foreign, but so familiar, so obvious, you wonder why you didn't think of it before.

"Ah, fuck," Childe swears, already sounding breathless. With how obvious he's always been, the lazy slide of his eyes, you'd assumed he had at least some experience—but maybe your teasing just a moment ago was a little more on the nose than you'd anticipated. He's unusually sensitive. "Scourge, I don't—"

"Stop calling me that," you mutter, pulling the fabric of his underwear till it strains against his cock, and he swallows back a gasp, spine arching against the dirt. "Did you want something?"

"You're so cruel," he whines. "Y/n, Archons, please—"

"Alright, alright, you big baby," you sigh, shedding his soaked underwear. Childe shudders, thighs tightening under you as he hits the cold air. The strain of his arousal and the chafing fabric is obvious; pre drips eagerly from the reddish tip, and he fits neatly into your palm when you swipe over the leaking hands before wrapping your fingers around him. Childe jolts into the touch, cursing under his breath, and as you start to jerk him off his lashes flutter. His blue eyes roll to the heavens and his head thumps against the earth with a long, shaky moan.

The night fills with noise, somewhere between what you find obscene and what sends heat rushing between your own legs as your fist pumps lazily up his length. Childe is more receptive than you would've put money on, gasping and swearing, hiccuping small, wounded noises in the back of his throat. His brow is scrunched, lips slack and wet with saliva, eyes screwed shut. His hips jump like they have a brain of their own.

You squeeze, prompting a panicked noise; Childe's eyes fly open and find your sly smile. "You look pretty," you tell him. Childe goes scarlet.

"W-wha?" he dredges up intelligently, frowning. "Why'd you—what?"

You find it funny that you've literally got your hand around his cock, but calling him pretty is apparently what crosses the line in flustering him. You cock your head, grinning.

"You don't think?" you coo. "I think you're lovely like this. I never realised how attractive you'd be once you shut your mouth. Maybe I should beat you in a fight more often."

"W-wouldn't complain," Childe pants, still alight with a feverish blush.

"I'm sure," you say noncommitally. "You fucking whore."

Childe moans, loud and shameless, and his free hand flails to scratch his nails down his own skin. "D-don't stop, fuck, don't stop—"

You stare at the scarlet railroads left on the pale skin of his stomach, and with your free hand yank up his shirt to his chest. Childe lets out a startled sound, looking at you with round, surprised eyes. His torso is littered with scars, raised and pale and dark against freckled skin. He is pretty. You love the marks of his exertions and pains, a history of his losses mapped out over his body. One of his nipple has a healed slash running right through it; when you reach up and tweak it, Childe shudders.

"Anyone would think you like losing," you murmur.

Childe looks at you weakly, crying out when your hand resumes at a faster pace. "Like it when—hnn—when it's real. I like it when they don't hold back. 'S why I'm just—hah!—e-enamoured with you, I guess."

"'Cause I'm ruthless?" you quip.

Childe flutters his lashes. "Nice enough to let me come, I hope," he says sweetly, and it makes your cheeks burn momentarily with embarrassment, the brazenness of his statement. "I'm not above begging."

"I liked you better when you were quiet," you mutter, and swipe your thumb hard over the slit. Childe yelps, muscles melting like butter, and when you start rubbing cruelly like you've found some sort of button his face flames, his mouth drops open, and he lets out a wailing noise, legs thrashing.

"Archons," he keens, but with your free hand you seize and handful of his hair and pull, hard.

"No Archons," you snarl. "Just me."

Tears prick at the corners of Childe's eyes as he rolls his hips to meet your unrelenting strokes, whimpering. "Y-yes, yeah, just you, just you, do that again."

You oblige, dig your fingers into the red hair so deep your nails scrape his scalp, and tug. The tears spill over Childe's lashline as he chokes on the moan that bursts from him at the movement.

"Keep it there," he begs, thighs shaking. "Pleasepleaseplease—"

"You close?" you ask innocently. "Already?"

There's no more pretence; the fine line of pleasure and pain seems to have wrought Childe down to only basic instincts, as his hips roll against your hand as you fist his length rough and quick, head tipped right back against the ground, exposing the heaving column of his throat. The toned concave of his stomach flexes with each punched-out breath, the scars coiling and elongating respectively.

"Please," Childe sobs in answer. "I'll be good, be real good, I'm close..."

You surge forward, digging your face into Childe's neck as you speed up your pace, and sink your teeth into the soft skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hard enough for blood to bubble under your lips, hard enough for Childe to let out a strangled scream as he comes all over your hand, spilling over your fingers and his stomach in pearly arcs.

He's panting when you pull back, winces as you dislodge your teeth and unwind your fingers from his hair. He touches the bite mark with a wince and hiss, examining the blood on his fingers with light interest. It really shouldn't surprise or arouse you nearly as much when he dips them into his mouth and licks them clean.

"Degenerate," you tell him. Childe smiles crookedly, the flush on his face still stark red.

"There's this old saying about a pot and a kettle," he says, voice still weak and shaky.

The bite mark is leaking. As he reaches for you, you get the fleeting thought that it will leave another scar to add to his masses, another permanent trophy of another loss.

A loss to you.

And you smile.

#🫀.scribes #genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #ajax smut #childe oneshot #sub!childe #sub!genshin #dom!reader #genshin x dom!reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: miles morales x hispanic male reader (featuring my accent)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you're speaking spanish and he can hardly understand.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 635 ~ established relationship

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, kissing, miles sitting on your lap

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: if i miss any tildes just know im not a man who paid attention to his tilde classes and also the difference between por que and porque and when they have tildes (dont think too hard about the wingdings)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Was it wrong to admire him? Maybe it was, you didn't know; staring at strangers was wrong, but this was your boyfriend.

Miles had an effect on you. You couldn't quite name it, especially not when he asked. You just knew it had you staring, staring at his wide smiles or his expressive eyebrows or how he looks like when he's focused on drawing. You often stared when he wasn't looking, but when he was, when he returned your gaze, offered you an automatic smile, raised a teasing brow, you couldn't help but to kiss him.

But, for now, you were just looking, admiring. You could only imagine how dopey you looked right now. It's probably hilarious.

"E'te man me tiene loco." (This man drives me crazy.)

"What?"

You shake yourself out of your stupor, "Nothin'. Keep drawin'."

"No, no, dijistes algo." ((you) said something.)

"Ahahaa, no." You try to laugh it off, but Miles can see in the way that you tense up that he's right.

"Mira yo se que me mientes." He lifts himself off his seat, pointing a finger at you. (Look, I know you're lying to me.)

You cringe internally at the fact he didn't pronounce his r correctly but continue on. You raise your hands in feigned surrender, "No sé de que me 'tas hablando." (I don't know what you're talking to me about.)

"Me 'tas? Metas?" The confusion was visible on his face, which was frankly adorable, "Like goals?"

"No, mi amor," Miles sits himself down on your lap–so casually–and you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around him. The normality of it makes you relax again. "I mean to say, "me estas", but because of my accent, I cut out the "es"."

"So just say "me estas"." He replied, like it was that simple.

You roll your eyes, "I don't think about the way I say things all the time, you know. Just like how you forgot to roll your r's."

"I did not!" He shouts, pretending like he's offended.

"Oh, but you did."

"Ok, mira, carrro," He exaggerates it for you, "carrrrrro." (Ok, look, carrr. carrrrrr.)

"Okay, okay, now remember it."

"Whatever." He scoffs, "You've been deflecting."

"Have I?" You bring a hand up to fiddle with the unshaven hair at the back of his neck in the hope of distracting him.

"Yes." He digs his accusatory finger into your chest, turning the tables on you and your criticism of his shit Spanish. "Ey, stop trying to distract me."

You don't drop the hand but you stop playing with his hair, "Lo siento." (I'm sorry.)

"Dime lo que dijistes." (Tell me what you said.)

"Dijiste." You correct.

With a groan, he says it correctly. "Dijiste."

"Dijequemetienesloco." You say fast. It was a bit embarrassing to admit it, even with the many times that he's caught you staring.

Combined with his bad Spanish and how fast you said it, Miles did not understand a single word. "Dijek met ien lowcou." (👎︎♓︎🙰♏︎❑︎◆︎♏︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♓︎♏︎■︎♏︎⬧︎●︎□︎♍︎□︎)

"What language are you speaking?"

"That's what you said." He laughs. "But seriously the curiosity is killing me!"

"Fine..."

He fiddles in your lap excitedly as he anticipates your words.

"Me tienes loco." (You drive me crazy.)

They were simple words but he didn't understand them. "I have you crazy? Do I drive you mad? Do you think I'm that annoying?"

Stuck in your own embarrassment, you ignore his rambling and begin your own, "I mean I actually said "Este man me tiene loco" but you know it's practically the same thing and you'd complain about me calling you man porque it's so impersonal and–" (This man drives me crazy.)

Meanwhile he's over here still trying to figure it out, until, "Wait it's "You make me crazy!". Ohhh."

You prepare yourself for teasing but are instead met with a soft little kiss.

"I drive you crazy, huh?" Miles smiles one of those smiles you always adore.

"Yes." There would be teasing later, you were sure of it, but for now you relished in kissing him. You couldn't have enough of him.

#🌸 // success! #💞 // darlings #miles x reader #miles x male reader #miles morales x male reader #miles morales x reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man x male reader #🎟 // atsv #🎫 // miles morales #🎫 // miles #🎟 // spider-verse

[ggoojjoo]

black ysl

— pairing : gojo staoru x f!reader x geto suguru

— synopsis : satoru and suguru were head over heels for you, and when they finally find the opportunity to have you, it’s one hell of a ride!

— contains : smut with little to no plot, profanities, mentions of violence(?), reader is oblivious asf

— wc : 2.2k

— note : not my fave but it's cool hihi

tumblr is based on reblogs!

smut warnings : semi-public sex (in the bathroom of a club damnit), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, threesome, eiffel tower(?), oral (m), fingering (f), slight overstimulation, mentions of spit, praise, that was all i think

That Satoru and Suguru were attracted to you was an understatement, they were worshiping the ground you were walking on! And everybody but you seemed to notice that. Shoko was on the point of ripping her own hair out when you were so oblivious to the flirting the two tall men initiated, and you just looked at them with an innocent smile. 

“Hey, princess!” You heard Satoru call out for you across the training field, making you stop punching the curse induced puppet in front of you. Satoru jogged over to you, his eyes peeking over his round sunglasses. As soon as he reached you he wrapped his arms around you in a hug, you, of course, were complaining due to how sweaty you were. “I don’t care, princess. So, how’s training going?” He asked, looking at the mangled puppet. 

“Ah, it’s going pretty good,” you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair out of your eyes. “What brings you here anyway? Isn’t it your day off?” You asked, eyes round in curiosity, which sent a shiver down Satoru’s spine.

And just as he was about to answer your question, a heavy arm fell onto your shoulders, making you twist your neck to see the offender. “Oh, we just wanted to know if you want to join us tonight.” Suguru’s smooth voice invaded your ears. “To the club, I mean.” He finished the thought, looking down at you with a smirk curved on his lips. 

You thought for a few seconds, shrugging. “Yeah, why not?” You smiled at the men, missing their glances they exchanged between each other. 

“Sweet! We’ll pick you up at eight!” With that, they bid their goodbyes and walked away.

You took your shower, did your hair, and make-up. Now you were stuck on wearing an outfit. One of your options was a black YSL body-con dress that was short enough to barely cover your ass cheeks, showing off your legs, paired with a pair of black YSL heels. Your other option was a pink Gucci dress that reached just above your kneecaps and was a bit flowy, but had a deep V-cut, paired with white, knee-high boots. A loud groan left your lips as you turned to grab your phone, dialing Shoko and calling her on face-time. The phone rang a few times until Shoko picked up with a loud yawn, cigarette smoke flying around her. “When are you gonna quit smoking?” You asked sarcastically, knowing she will never quit. 

“Cut the crap and show me your options, I know why you just called me.” A soft giggle left your lips as you flipped the camera, showing the two dresses on your bed, paired with their designated shoes. “Ooh, (Y/N), hard one, really. But I think you should go with the black one.” She said, looking at the dresses. “Yeah, yeah, go for the black one, and put some nice underwear on! Maybe you’ll get laid tonight.” She laughed as you flipped the camera to yourself again. 

“I think I’ll have to go braless, though. But I’ll make sure to pick out my prettiest panties.” You winked at the camera before putting it on your bed and getting changed, putting some lotion on and spraying your perfume. “Almost done!” You called, slipping the dress over your form and putting on the heels. “Done,” you sighed, taking your phone and turning it to a full length mirror to show off your outfit. The YSL logo on your heels glimmering in the dark as your calves were shining from the lotion you used, glitter scattered over your skin. The dress was a beauty in itself. “So, how is it?”

Shoko’s gasp made you smile, posing for the woman. “(Y/N), I’d fuck you then and there! I will kill you if you don’t get laid tonight!” You laughed heartily as you flipped the camera again, putting your phone on the dresser to arrange your small purse, putting your wallet and some tissues inside. You also put the lipstick and perfume you used inside, in case you need to freshen up. “Are the guys gonna pick you up?” Shoko asked, looking at the time. You just nodded at her question as you checked your hair again, and talk of the devil, your doorbell rang. 

“See you, hun!” You blew her a kiss before hanging up and walking to your door. As you opened the door to the tall men, a whistle echoed through your hall. “Hi, guys!”

Satoru and Suguru looked over your outfit, each having a smirk painted on their faces. “Let’s go, princess.” Satoru offers his arm, which you gladly take, walking beside them. Outside was the expensive Mercedes Satoru had gotten not long ago, and ever the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat, Suguru getting in the backseat. “Then let’s go and have some fun, yeah?”

Your eyes roamed the whole club as you sat by the booth, sipping on your drink, Satoru and Suguru nowhere in sight, probably flirting. You didn’t mind, though, you liked a bit of fun on your own. “Hello there, sweets, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone?” You heard a man call next to you, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Turning around, you sent him a smile as you leaned back on the booth, crossing your legs. “Nothing, just having fun. Why are you alone, stranger?” Your head tilted to the side a bit, your hair sliding off your shoulder. 

“Oh, I’m just trying to get you, pretty girl, with me on the dancefloor. If I may,” he said, reaching his hand out for you. A smile breaking out on his face when you took it, walking with him to the dancefloor. “The name’s Toji.” With that his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer as you two danced to the rhythm of the song. A sudden shiver ran through you as you continued to dance with Toji, your eyes darting around to see Satoru and Suguru staring at you over Toji’s shoulder. You sent a wink their way. Toji leaned over, lips over your ear. “What’s your name, sweets?” He asked, a smirk curved on his lips.

And just as you opened your mouth to answer, two big hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back, hitting a hard chest. “Gotta steal her from you, big guy.” It was Satoru, and not even a second later, Suguru appeared behind Toji, pulling him back from you. You felt Satoru’s breath as he whispered into your ear, “Let’s have fun, shall we?” His hands made their way to your hips and Suguru’s to your waist. A blush creeped on your face as the two men sandwiched you between their hard bodies, grinding and pushing against each other. You looked up to see Suguru smirking down at you, his eyes fixed on the way yours sparkled in the purple and blue lights of the club. 

A soft gasp fell from your lips as you felt Satoru pull you impossibly closer to himself, hips moving against your lower back, and Suguru was doing the same to you but his hips were moving against your lower belly. A soft moan left your lips as they both leaned in, breathing against your skin. “So pretty for us, huh, princess?” You giggled at them, pushing harder against them. The alcohol in your system obviously helps you get over your shyness. Both of your hands wrapped around Suguru’s shoulders, pulling his chest against yours, ghosting your lips over his hot neck. Said man shot a glance over your shoulder to the blue-eyed sorcerer behind you. “Wanna take this upstairs, princess?” 

Loud moans and whines flew around the hot restroom as Suguru’s fingers were working your pussy, the loud squelches almost drowned out by the blaring music outside, almost. “Ah, Suguru, please!” You didn’t know what you were pleading for, but it was something. Satoru’s hands never left your boobs as he sat on the counter behind you, you between his legs, feeling his hard-on prodding against your back. One of your legs was hooked on Suguru’s hips as your arousal slowly ran down your thigh, the golden YSL heel shining in the dim light. 

“You sound so pretty.” Satoru slurs against your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin. “So pretty for us, yeah, princess. All for us, right?” Satoru didn’t seem to shut up, pulling moans and whines out of your swollen lips. “Is Suguru fingering you well, princess? Come on, tell me.” Another moan cut through the air as Suguru curled his middle and ring finger the way you like, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. 

“Awe, pretty baby,” Suguru cooed, “what do you want? Tell me, what do you want?” A stray tear slipped from your eye as you looked at Suguru with a pout on your face. The long-haired sorcerer chuckled darkly as he smashed his lips against yours, sucking your cries out of your lungs. 

You felt yourself near the edge as Satoru’s lips kept their place on your skin and his fingers on your nipples, pussy clenching around Suguru’s fingers. “Are you going to cum, angel? Come on, cum on my fingers.” That was enough for you to fall over the edge, moaning and shaking in the men’s grips. This was one of your most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, stars littered across your vision. 

You felt two pairs of hands on you, eyes half-lidded and a dazed smile on your face. “Fuck me,” you sighed, giggling. 

Hearing the both men chuckle made a shiver run down your spine, their hands on you tightening. Suddenly, Satoru and Suguru switched places with you now bent over Suguru’s lap as he sat on the counter, leaking cock free out of its pants and standing tall. You felt yourself drooling at the sight, your hand wrapping around his base. “Not so innocent now,” Satoru slurred as he pushed his pants down and your panties to the side, pussy swollen and glistening with your wetness and Suguru’s spit. “Fuck, princess,” Satoru groaned. 

“So compliant,” Suguru whispered as his hand found the back of your head, lips attached to the base of his cock and licking your way up. “Come on, suck my dick while Toru fucks you nice and good.” You whined as you felt Satoru’s large tip prod against your hole, clenching. And with one swift movement, he was balls-deep inside you. Good thing Suguru prepped you. “Fuck,” Suguru groaned as he felt the vibrations of your moans, “keep sucking, angel.” 

Doing as told, you wrapped your lips around his length and hollowed your cheeks, letting your tongue slide over the underside of his shaft. While you were sucking the sorcerer off, Satoru was behind you, hands gripping your hips for dear life as he fucked you, his hands leaving a few spanks here and there, red hand prints evident. One specifically harsh thrust made you jolt forward, Suguru’s cock slipping deeper into your throat, making you gag pathetically. “Sorry,” Satoru strained, eyes fixed on the way your pussy left a white ring of arousal on his milky cock. 

Satoru stopped moving, your whines of protests muffled by his friend’s cock in your mouth. And then, all of a sudden, the white-haired man gripped your hips and smashed his against yours, creating loud noises that echoed through the hot restroom. You felt your knees give out from under you at the sheer force Satoru fucked you with, but thankfully his grip never faltered. With a gasp, you pulled away from Suguru’s cock, jerking him off instead. Your tongue ran over his tip, eyes looking up at his face filled with pleasure. “Fuck, angel, I’m gonna cum if you keep this up.” You smiled, sticking your tongue out and slapping his heavy tip against your tongue, pathetic moans leaving your used throat as Satoru was still fucking your from behind. 

A loud gasp ripped out of your lungs as Satoru’s fingers found your swollen clit. “Oh my god, Satoru, I’m gonna–” You heard a hearty laugh from above you, Suguru’s hand now in your hair as he shoved you down on his cock again. “If you’re gonna cum, then you’re gonna cum with my dick in your mouth.” His words sent a shiver through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. “Fuck,” he gasped, hips twitching against your face as he was only a few more thrusts away from his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around Satoru’s cock, his fingers never ceasing their movement as your orgasm took over. Thighs shaking and knees barely holding you up, you tried your best to keep sucking Suguru’s cock, but to no avail. He harshly pulled you off of his cock and held you by your hair, his fist tight around himself he came onto your face. White spurts of cum dripping down your chin and onto your cleavage.

And at last, Satoru came with a loud moan, pressing himself impossibly deeper into your cunt and painting your walls white. His hips kept rutting into your cunt as he came down from his high, your whimpers of overstimulation shooting the men’s egos up. 

You felt Satoru’s hands rub your sore ass as he whispered, “You did so good, princess.”

The next morning you were spent, not wanting to move one inch as Shoko came running into your apartment. “Tell me you got railed?”

“Shut up.” 

@ggoojjoo 2023 | © do not steal or plagiarize

i do not own the jujutsu kaisen franchise nor the characters!

#jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #geto smut #suguru smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

[randomshyperson]

Sweet Us - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: An accident with interdimensional portals takes you to a world where you are married to your best friend. For a certain black widow, it's a great opportunity to torment you. Or, the one where you have feelings for Wanda and sometimes you just need to visit the version of you who had the guts to tell her. | Requested

Warnings: (+18), a little bit of everything from angst, bad jokes and happy ending, some milf!wanda was well, friends to lovers, kissing, nudity, avengers being a family, some drinking, several references to comics and series inside jokes, emo wanda, mild angst, everyone is homosexual 'cause i said so, car sex in the end, strap on use, bottom!wanda, reader being a simp in every world | Words: 12.555k

A/N-> A friend from A03 asked me for this one and she had asked for a comedy and I put in several angst scenes for free. Anyway, I think it worked. Now I still have a fic from a very old request for Spider!Reader that I should post next week. Hope you like this one!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

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Sweet Us - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

The Multiverse was at war.

It didn't start in your world, however. In fact, according to Stephen Strange, the supreme of your reality, the war wasn't actually even in its infancy. He just knew that things had gotten out of hand and that the Avengers would be a good help in keeping the dangers at bay.

Therefore, Tony and Vision created special teams to help the sorcerers - In Tony's words, a glitter cleaning team (No one was offended, everyone was sure it was jealousy since Iron Man couldn't do magic) and you were one of the names on the Black Widow team. 

Obviously, Natasha was the leader. You, like her, were part of the Red Room in your childhood. The third was Yelena, and she didn't want to join the mission because Kate Bishop was coming back to the compound this weekend and she wanted to be a good friend.

You understood and said fine. Natasha was annoyed.

"It's her job, Y/N!" Complained the redhead for the hundredth time on the way to the Sanctum Sanctorum beside you. "If she doesn't help us to protect the universe, she can wave goodbye to movie nights with her girlfriend."

You sighed lightly. "But she hasn't seen Kate in months, Nat! It's normal to miss each other..."

"I don't even know why I'm trying to explain this to you." Natasha interrupted irritably, her hands busy reviewing ammunition (a Yelena task) while you drove the truck. "Of course, you understand well what Yelena is going through."

You frowned slightly. "What did you mean by that?"

But Nat only laughed dryly, ignoring your quibble and going back to check to see if the guns were loaded.

Usually, Stephen's missions were simple. Making sure the interdimensional cracks were closed in time and dealing with any kind of threat that might have escaped through them.

But as soon as you made the curve in the avenue, and you had to brake the car to avoid hitting the number of running pedestrians, you and Natasha knew it would be different than last time.

Natasha quickly slung a gun in your lap and opened the doors, and you wasted no time in running with her toward the confusion. Soon you could see the cosmic monstrosity that was happening there.

Right on top of the Sanctum Sanctorum, an extradimensional cathedral had opened. Stephen and some other magicians were floating around, trying to keep the creatures under control, and they seemed to be doing a good job. But extra weapons were always useful.

Exchanging a look with Natasha, you moved into the fray, and you had to put all your widow training into practice to stay away from the tentacled creatures advancing out of the colored cracks.

On a roll behind a car, your cell phone rang. You answered the call using the helmet of the uniform you and Natasha were wearing.

A small window became visible in your field of vision, and the image of a sleepy Wanda Maximoff with slightly tousled hair and scratching her eyes appeared and sped up your heart more than the surrounding monsters.

"Good morning Witchy, what can I do for you?" You asked in the gentlest tone you could manage, as your fingers worked to reload your gun. Explosions boomed behind you.

"dobroye utro, milaya ('morning sweetheart)..." She started with a yawn. "Y/N, have you seen my Imagine Dragons t-shirt? I can't find it anywhere and I was going to wear it to the show later."

"Yeah, it's in my closet-ouch!" A small exclamation of pain cut off your speech because some of the creatures threw an acid that corroded half the car and dripped onto your sleeve. Wanda was immediately alarmed.

"What was that, Y/N? Where are you...?"

"ARE YOU REALLY ON THE PHONE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIGHT?" Natasha shouted from across the street in indignation and thank god it was too far away for Wanda to hear. You grunted a little.

"We ended up in a conflict before we got to the sanctum, darling. No big deal, just a few more little magic monsters." You said, and Wanda's face grew even more worried.

"I'll dress up in a minute, I can help-"

"No, no, you're off duty." You interrupt her immediately, shaking your head and having to throw yourself to the side to keep a tentacle from holding you. "Wanda, go get some breakfast, and the blouse-Shit!" You hush to defend a blow, ducking and Wanda tries to look past the camera but to no avail. You return to the video breathless and with a helmet full of blood on the outside (Not that she can see). "Your blouse is at the top of my closet, wear it with that black skirt it will look great! I-I'll meet you and Pietro at the door of the show, okay? Seven-thirty. As we agreed."

Wanda hesitates, clearly worried about the muffled confusion around you. You soften your expression though you can feel a cut burning in your stomach. 

"I'm fine, Wands. I'll come home, I promise."

You never lie to her, especially if it is a promise. So she smiles, swallows dryly the anticipation, and trusts you.

"I'll be waiting, dorogoya. Seven-thirty, don't be late." She says before hanging up.

But the fight seems to get worse after that. Or maybe it's the cut on your stomach, which slows you down.

Natasha steps back to give you cover, and for a moment, it looks like you are winning. You see Stephen controlling the largest of the Monsters, and the mages closing most of the cracks.

You turn to tell Natasha that you have landed more hits than she has, but the redhead is already running toward you to get you out of range of the car that one of the monsters has thrown in your direction.

You both roll a little on impact, but you're fine. 

"You could have knocked me down a little more gently, Romanoff." You mutter to irritate her as you massage her shoulder. But Natasha is looking forward with wide eyes.

When you look and see the crack that you have passed through - and which was now closing in at high speed - you also widen your eyes. 

You stand up to try to stop it, but it is already too late. The portal had already closed.

"Okay. Okay. Don't panic." You gasp with your hand on your stomach, looking to where the crack was, but where now there are only streets. And what was once a chaotic fight with a crowd fleeing monsters, has turned into a quiet boulevard with pedestrians looking strangely at the blood-covered uniforms you and Natasha were wearing. 

"Let's try to be positive. Maybe we've gone to a nice world." You try but Natasha is drawing her pistol again, turning toward something behind you.

Black pickup trucks arrive at high speed and park, surrounding the area. Pedestrians run away and you swallow dryly, feeling a little dizzy. You can feel the cut dripping down your stomach as well.

"Let me do the talking." Natasha murmurs to you, as you watch masked agents step out of cars with rifles that are clearly far more advanced than anything you have in your world.

They all carried the Iron Legion symbol in a brooch on their chests, perhaps that's why Natasha lowered her gun to the ground and stepped forward with her hands in the air.

"We're not here for trouble." She tried, but one of the soldiers stepped forward.

"Identify yourselves outsiders." Demanded the male voice. You swallowed dryly as you noticed the iron hand that held a smaller type of iPad. 

"I am Natasha-"

"Reason for the Journey, not names." Cut the serious man - Or you imagined the expression by the tone of his voice. Like everyone else, he wore an iron mask that covered much of his face. But the long hair and green eyes were familiar enough for you and Nat not to despair. She swallowed dryly.

"Bucky, we are travelers from another universe, we are not here to cause trouble." Natasha tried as she stepped forward, but the mention of the name only made everyone tense up. The soldier put down his iPad and drew his gun. Nat stopped walking. 

"Reason for travel, I won't ask again!" He shouted demanding, and Natasha sighed slightly. She opened her mouth to reply, trying to decide how she was going to explain all of Strange's confusion when she heard a motorcycle noise. Bucky's variant let out an impatient grunt, but the vehicle was already parking next to the truckers, and someone got off.

"You're losing your touch, Barnes." Mocked the agent who got down, and before you could mutter to Natasha that it was a hell of an entrance, the woman was pulling a knife from her ankle and advancing on you two. Natasha wasted no time in reacting, of course, masterfully matching the blows.

"You're trespassing, illusionist." Said the soldier between one hit and another. You tried to help Natasha, but Bucky's variant attacked you and the metal arm kept you busy enough.

"It's not an illusion!" Natasha defended herself without stopping the fighting. 

"It's not, heh? If you really are Natalia, tell me something only I would know." Demanded the woman, making the redhead laugh confusedly.

"I don't even know who you are." Justified the widow, and ended up getting hit in the legs that knocked her down.

"Wrong answer, evil clone." Retorted the other. Fortunately, you had trained enough with Bucky to know exactly how to defeat him and had just hit him when Natasha fell. You only had time to run and throw yourself against the agent to prevent your friend from getting hit in the face.

The wound on your stomach throbbed with the impact, and you squirmed on the ground, trying to get up beyond the pain because you heard the other soldier doing the same next to you. Natasha ran into a range to you, helping you up and taking a few steps back. You both raised your fists at the Soldier getting up, but Natasha hesitated when they took off her glasses that were scratched in the fall.

"You take the right and I'll take the left, okay?" You directed but Natasha was lowering her hands. You frowned in confusion. "Nat, by god, she's coming, what the hell are you doing?"

The soldier started walking, and you swallowed dryly. Nat didn't hesitate. "Take off your helmet, Y/N."

"Do you want her to hit me in the head? Or worse one of the soldiers?" You asked in desperation. 

Natasha grunted impatiently, and when the soldier moved forward, she spun her body skillfully and used the same blow you never knew how to defend, effectively knocking the other woman to the ground. 

"No matter the world, you never watch the knees, do you баламут (troublemaker)? Mocks the widow, pinning the soldier beneath her, a victorious smile on her face. You frown in indignation.

"I thought you only called me that..." You mutter in annoyance, and Natasha sighs impatiently.

"By God, Y/N! Hasn't it become obvious yet? Take off your helmet, and help me before they shoot us." She shouted, and despite your grimace, you capably obeyed.

As soon as your helmet came off, the soldiers hesitated and lowered their weapons. Bucky - who was getting up - widened his eyes and made no attempt to attack.

The woman trapped underneath Natasha stopped struggling.

"I'm going to take yours off now, okay?" Natasha asked the soldier, who stood still waiting. 

As soon as the iron mask came off, and you saw your own face, you were completely speechless.

But only for half a second.

"Oh my God! It's me! I'm so cool! Did you see the way I arrive on the bike? Where did I learn to ride a motorcycle! And this leather jacket looks amazing on me! And see the way everybody put down their guns and let me fight alone? I'm like a super powerful leader, aren't I? My God this is so cool! 

Natasha laughed incredulously, and got off your variant, helping you to stand while you looked around excitedly.

"Like I said, it's not an illusion." Said the widow. "We are from another world. It was an accident to end up here."

Your variant swallows dryly, exchanging a glance with Bucky - who is standing and sort of at a loss for words with you praising the improvements his mechanical arm has received in this world - before sighing lightly.

"I'll take them to the compound, Barnes. Take the team to take care of the breaches they've opened up in the north." Your variant directs, and Bucky seems quite content to evade your comments, gesturing for the team to follow him.

In record time, the pickup trucks and soldiers are gone, and you and Natasha stand facing the motorcycle.

"You can't fit three on a motorcycle..." You mutter softly, making your variant chuckle. She moves to take something off the dashboard of the vehicle, and you realize that it is one of the rings that Strange owns. And that might explain how cars get to places so quickly in this universe.

She opens a portal into the street, and you walk through to end up in the front yard of the Avengers Complex.

"Are you writing this stuff down, Romanoff? Strange could lend us those rings." You whisper to the widow beside you, who shakes her head, hiding a smile.

"Why did you bring us here?" Natasha asks your variant, who is dragging the shut-down motorcycle to the entrance. 

"You need to give some statements, paperwork for multiversal travelers." She replies, parking the motorcycle before turning to you two again. "And well, the Legion of Ultron takes care of those matters."

You and Nat swallow dry, exchanging shocked looks. It is by following your variant that you realize that the Avengers' symbol is not on the door of the compound but the same as the Iron Legion's - or Ultron's - like the one on the brooch on their uniforms.

"Ultron worked out in this world then?" Natasha asks casually, and your variant lets out an impressed laugh.

"You guys know him?" She asked. You scratch the back of your head.

"Yeah, something like that." You mumble because you don't think it would be a good idea to say that he was a supervillain in your world and that you and Wanda destroyed his last body together.

It seemed like a good enough answer for your variant.

"The guy's a pain in the ass if you ask me." Retorted the variant. "But if you're fans, he stays in the Tower basically always, because he can work inside his own head. You can ask for an autograph before you leave."

Natasha giggles, muttering that it wasn't okay in the sense that she had no interest in asking the robot for autographs, but you barely heard it because you were impressed with the inside of this world's compound.

Everything was so clean and luxurious, and the painting of that legion of Ultron on the wall of the living room attracted your immediate attention. All the Avengers were there, and they were a few years older. The image of yourself smiling and with an arm around a redheaded Wanda made you interrupt the conversation.

"This girl. That you hug in the picture. Are you friends here?" You ask, and your variant raises a surprised eyebrow.

Natasha rolls her eyes. " Of course, you and Wanda are besties everywhere, Y/N, can we get back to adult business now?" Retorts the impatient widow having been interrupted in her questioning about going back to her own world, but your variant lets out a small laugh.

"It's all right, Natalia, in a new world I too would be curious to know where my wife is."

Your smile fades immediately, and Natasha's shock only lasts half a second.

"I beg your pardon?" She questions with a dry laugh. "Did you say wife? Are you married? You?"

Your variant laughs awkwardly, approaching the frame next to you. "Yes, for a few years actually." She starts by nodding to the picture. "That was taken in the first year of the legion, we called ourselves the Avengers back there. It was cool, but while I'm not much of a fan of the microwave, I have to admit that Ultron has improved everything. It's nice not to have any tragedies to avenge, you know?" You counter with a slightly nostalgic smile, lowering your hands and putting them in your pockets. "We had quieter years, I was able to start a family. Wanda and I got married just before we were promoted."

You had your mouth hanging open in shock. Natasha was biting back a smile, trying not to start laughing at your face.

"Wow, what a beautiful story." She commented with a slight tease that your variant didn't catch. "And were you guys friends or was it already a more direct thing with dating and sex in the compound?"

The variant gave a shy, confused laugh, evidently surprised at the straightforward curiosity. You grunted in shame, unable not to imagine the situation, and closed your eyes for a moment to control your own thoughts.

"Sorry, you and Wanda are not a couple in your universe?" Your variant asks tenderly, and Natasha giggles from your side as you try to control the red in your cheeks.

"N-no, we... um, no." You stammer.

"They're living a friends to lovers, I'd say." Natasha murmurs, and your variant gives a chuckle at the way you cross your arms in a sulk, your face burning like your ears. 

Natasha seemed intent on continuing to torment you, but someone crosses the hallway and you roll your eyes at the sight of Peggy Carter in front of you. You only know her from Steve's pictures and the Shield paintings, and it is impactful to say the least to see her standing in front of you.

"Y/N, I just got the notification from Bucky." She says seriously, her gaze on you and Nat. "We don't bring travelers into the compound, but seeing them, I already understand the exception." Says Peggy, to which your variant just nods.

"Is Wanda back yet? Someone has to take care of the trial and T'Challa is in Wakanda until next week." Your variant said, but before Peggy could respond, Nat steps forward.

"Trial?" She asks indignantly, but her variant softens her expression.

"It's just what we call it, Natalia." She replies. "We have rules for interdimensional travel, all are administered by the Council. It's dangerous to mess with the multiverse, everything has to be well taken care of to avoid catastrophes. When two variants appear in the middle of New York, we need to know what they were doing here."

Natasha sighs slightly, deciding to trust. It was you, after all. 

You, on the other hand, are trying to look at the shield Peggy carries on her back. She gives a little giggle when she notices, taking the item out to show you.

"So cool!" You comment excitedly, running your hand over the flag. "We have a Captain America on our world, his name is Sam Wilson, maybe you know him?"

"Oh, sure, he's our Captain America too." Peggy retorts with a smile. "He took over the shield after Steve Rogers. And I'm Captain Carter."

"Oh, that makes sense." You murmur nodding. "It's nice that you and Steve were able to stay together in this world."

Peggy frowns slightly, chuckling lightly. "Um, actually, Steve isn't...well, we were partners. In the war, before the ice. But now, well, he and Barnes got married in the fall." She tells you and you widen your eyes in surprise. "And I'm... um, I'm Margaret Carter Romanova now."

Natasha chokes in surprise, turning redder than her own hair. You can't hold back your giggle.

"You married Steve's ex-girlfriend? Sweet Jesus, Natalia, congratulations, really. I'll never let that one go." You teased and Nat grunted loudly, but the variants only chuckled lightly.

"There's time until the trial, and you guys could use a bath." Your variant spoke, clearly trying to dim the awkwardness of the conversation. "Come, I'll take you to, well, your rooms." Joked last.

You would have scoffed at the way Natasha tripped over her own feet as she passed Peggy - who muttered to her that she was very pretty in all universes - but you were too excited to see the rest of the compound.

Despite the different decorations - from pictures or coats of arms - in general it was quite similar to the one in your world. You found it funny that your room in that reality was on the other side of the tower, however.

"I imagine you know the showers trick." Asked your variant as she led you inside, and you laughed, nodding in agreement. "You can wear anything from the dresser, we're the same size after all. I'll see if I can get you guys something to eat. And I'll check if the operations with Bucky go smoothly. Make yourselves at home." Said your variant, before leaving the room.

Natasha turned her face and her gaze was full of mischief.

"So you actually want to marry Maximoff..."

"Choose your words well, Romanoff. You hooked up with your best friend's ex." You retort quickly and Nat chokes in shock. She closes her mouth with an irritated grumble and you giggle. "Let's get this over with soon, and you can torment me later."

"Oh, believe me, I'll torment you later." She retorts mockingly but is moving away toward the door. "And what can we do but wait? Strange is probably looking for us right now, which means we should take advantage of the time we have here."

"Nat, please stay out of trouble..."

"Or please, the баламут here is you." She retorts with a chuckle as she opens the door. "And I'm just curious what my life is like here. Come on, it's not every day we get to go to a different universe. If I were you, I'd go snoop around, maybe find out how you and Wanda ended up under a tree..."

You grunt in embarrassment, grabbing one of the pillows from the bed to throw at Natasha, but by the time you do, she is laughing her way out the door.

Sighing heavily, you decide that if Natasha is going to be looking around for trouble, someone of you should behave. For now, you need a bath.

Your room is evidently the largest in the world, especially the closet that your variant humbly calls a dresser.

You let your fingers run through the suits and uniforms until you reach a kind of dressing table, where you let out a soft sigh when you find a picture in the mirror.

Red hair suits Wanda. In the photo, she is sitting on your lap, while you kiss her cheek. You are both smiling, and what is most different from your world are the golden rings on your fingers.

You swallow dryly, returning the photo to its place and letting your attention fall to the fighting equipment your variant keeps there. The iron mask has its replacements in the top drawer, and you are curious to know how it feels.

Putting it on, you face your reflection. It's nice. You're considering telling Tony when you come back for a new design on your uniform when you hear footsteps approaching and a voice that makes you stumble with fright.

"lyubovʹ moya, ty tak dolgo (my love, you took so long)" Wanda comments as soon as she enters the closet and you swallow dry, ready to explain the whole story, but she walks over to you and hugs you tight and you can only sigh deeply. Once she looks at you again, she gives a little giggle at the mask, "I always forget how hot you look in this."

Oh.

Your cheeks blush, heavily, and you are grateful for the mask. Wanda kisses you on the neck and you almost become a complete mess. She doesn't seem to notice, pulling away and going back to saying something about the mission being over earlier than expected, and her looking for you, but you're trying to decide how you're going to explain everything and stop shaking.

All thoughts fade away when Wanda simply takes off her shirt.

Your breath catches, and you know that your face must be the same color as her hair. With trembling legs, you sit down in the closet chair, and Wanda - oblivious to all this - simply works to remove her bra and turns around with her torso exposed to you.

"[...] Anyway, that Bishop girl has been hanging around the house a lot, don't you think? I've asked America dozens of times, but she keeps evading the subject. Billy and Tommy refuse to tell on their sister, but I'm going to find out if they're dating." Wanda comments, but you're in shock, staring at her bare breasts without reaction. At your realization, she raises an eyebrow. "Malysha, are you listening to me?" She asks with some amusement, placing a hand on her waist and you gasp slightly.

"Jesus christ." You mumble affectedly, finally looking away and not risking looking up again. Wanda watches your reaction with amusement. 

"All these years and you're still speechless at the sight of me without clothes..." She murmurs approaching and you are opening your mouth to start explaining, but Wanda is straddling your lap and you find that you have lost the ability to breathe. "If we were quick, we can have some fun before the appointment this afternoon. Do that thing I like with your tongue..." She teased softly, hips grinding against yours and taking away your ability to think properly.

"Wanda, god, I'm not-"

"Wow, that's something." Interrupted someone from the doorway and Wanda screamed. She stumbled away from you, covering her torso with one arm, a mixture of horror and confusion on her face. But your variant, arms crossed from the doorway, was laughing. "I can only remember when I said I dreamed I kissed another version of you and you made me sleep on the couch. Now, look how the tables have turned."

Wanda grunted indignantly, "Explain yourself, Y/N! Now!" She demanded, still in shock that she was seeing two versions of yourself. Your variant didn't stop smiling but uncrossed her arms.

You heard something about multiverse but the wound in your stomach throbbed painfully and everything started to go dark. 

When you blinked again, you were lying in an infirmary. And Natasha beside you.

"Hey." You greet in a hoarse voice, and soon let out an exclamation of pain from the slap you got from Romanoff on the arm.

"Why the hell didn't you say you were hurt?" She questioned as you massaged the twinge and sat up in bed.

"I didn't think it was serious." You justified yourself feeling your whole body aching. "And the super serum has to be good for something."

"The serum doesn't make you immortal, Y/N! God, if I let you die in another world Wanda turns me into a frog." Grumbled the redhead making you chuckle lightly.

"She's not that kind of witch." You say, but Nat shakes her head.

"Oh, that's not what I heard." Says the redhead, nodding her head at the couple talking outside the room. Wanda and your variant are talking very close, and when they exchange intense smiles, and the variant takes Wanda's hand and kisses it before saying goodbye, you turn your blushing face away.

"What do you mean?" You ask Nat, who sighs a little.

"You blacked out for a few hours, Y/N. The trial is over."

"W-what?"

"Relax, it all worked out." Nat soothes you by forcing you back into a sitting position when you make mention of getting up. "They've had some bad experiences with travelers in this world, and now they keep things under control. They were waiting for you to wake up to send us back."

You absorb the information in shock, and before you can question further, Wanda is back. She opens the door and offers you such a tender smile that you suddenly feel very aware that you are only in a top because of the bandage they made on your belly.

"You're awake, dorogoya." She greeted, and you were too busy hiding your flushed face to notice Natasha's little smile beside you. "How are you feeling?"

"G-good." You murmured watching her approach the bed until she was close enough to touch your face. "Natalia already told you about the trial, I imagine."

"Mm-hmm." You merely replied, knowing that you would have no ability to formulate any answer with Wanda caressing your cheek like that.

She smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before commenting, "God, you're so young. This is so odd."

You laugh shyly. "You don't look old." 

That wasn't entirely true. Wanda was older than the one you knew, but that may be because you have all the traits of her face memorized, and your Wanda has no age wrinkles yet. Regardless, the version in front of you is absurdly gorgeous.

She chuckles a little. "You are sweet, but I am old enough to be a mother in this world." She murmurs as she pulls her hand away, you were going to complain about the lack, but she sits down beside you. "And indeed, I am."

You widen your eyes softly, but Natasha doesn't seem the least bit surprised, a little smile lingers on her face.

"Do you have children?" You ask curiously, and Wanda smiles, nodding in agreement. "Cool. They... are they ours?"

She bites her lip thoughtfully, and you imagine that there must be rules about what and how much to say about the multiverse. Wanda may have decided to ignore them all.

"Yes, they are ours." She replies, her hands moving to check the bandage on your belly. "America, not by blood, is our older. We adopted her when she was 6, she's the naughtiest girl I know. And then the twins came. William and Thomas. They are our biological children."

You give a lopsided laugh. "Is that, like, possible in this world?"

It's Wanda's turn to laugh, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Oh, dorogoya, believe me, we figured that out." That's what she replies, and you'll accept it as enough because you've suddenly allowed yourself to think about the attempts and the heat that has surged in your body makes you embarrassed. Wanda realizes that everything is okay with the bandage, and sighs slightly. "If you are really feeling well, everything is ready for you two to go."

You swallow dryly, nodding and forcing a smile at Wanda.

"Hey, Wands." You call out to her before she can get up. "Sorry." That's what you say, surprising her. "F-for not saying I wasn't your wife. And for seeing your boobs."

"Wow, excuse me?" Natasha cuts in with a laugh that Wanda accompanies. You blush heavily, but Maximoff gestures slightly.

"It's okay, sweetie." Wanda assures you. "My wife also gets tongue-tied around me. It's a good reaction, I suppose." 

"Well, you're super gorgeous, so it's not our fault." You mutter getting a shy chuckle from the other, but Natasha grunts softly.

"And you guys are super gay. I'm going to get something to eat before we go, Y/N." Annunciates the redhead before leaving the room, and you and Wanda exchange giggles as you were left alone.

Once the giggles cease, she reaches for your hand on the bed.

"Promise me you're okay?" She asks low, and you swallow dryly at the strong deja vu. Wanda is Wanda in all worlds.

"I'm fine, it was just a scratch. I promise." You assured her making her smile slightly. Next, you let your curiosity prevail. "Where did I go?"

Her smile didn't go off. "Home, of course." She says. "We work at the Tower, but our home is in Massachusetts." She tells surprising you.

"We live with the witches, huh?" you joke and it's Wanda's turn to be surprised.

She hesitates a bit, curiosity shining in her eyes as she draws patterns on her hand.

"Your Wanda...she's not a witch?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, half thoughtfully. "Well, technically, no? Her powers are super cool, and when she was with Hydra, she did some stuff with people's fears and everyone started calling her a witch. But she only does energy stuff and stopped with the mind control thing. The nickname little witch caught on, but she doesn't really do spells."

"But the powers, where did they come from?" She insists, and you shrug softly.

"From the mind stone, I guess." You reply. "That's what I know."

Wanda forces a smile, nodding and stopping her caresses on your hand. "I am a witch, Y/N. And I think your Wanda is too."

"Well, that's cool, I love magic and so does Wanda." You casually retort, getting a small giggle from the other.

"Malysha, listen to me carefully, okay?" She asks looking into your eyes. "I have met a few versions of myself in this extensive multiverse. None that have had their magic amplified by an Infinity Stone before. Your Wanda may be a special kind of us."

"Oh, like royalty?" You ask receiving a frown in return. A small smile forms on your lips. "I usually call her princess too. It would be nice to know I got another nickname right."

Wanda laughs softly, her eyes full of affection. "You really like her, don't you?"

You swallow dryly, evading the hidden meaning in her words. "S-She's my best friend."

The redhead doesn't seem to be impacted much by the correction. She smiles. 

"If I'm right, Wanda will be the Scarlet Witch one day."

You blink in confusion. "I don't know what that means."

"And you don't need to know." She says, placing a hand on your face. "Not now. You're young, she is too, isn't she?" She asks and you nod quickly. Wanda smiles, "You have time. Enjoy that innocence now, that freedom. If she really is the Scarlet Witch, the power and responsibility don't come for free."

You frowned in concern, raising your hand to her forearm. "Wands, what are you talking about?"

But she smiles, shaking her head. "It's not my place to tell your story, dear." She says as she strokes her skin. "Please, just be there for her. She's going to need you. I always do."

You swallow dryly but force a smile. "I promise."

Wanda smiles, and you hold your breath as she approaches. She kisses your cheek, and you know you are blushing hard. 

"Go get dressed, I'll make sure your Natasha didn't destroy something else." Declares Wanda as she walks away, and you frown in confusion.

"What did she destroy before?" you ask getting only a chuckle in return.

Many minutes later, you are wearing a completely clean uniform with a pouting Natasha Romanoff at your side. - She didn't like that the Legion of Ultron people wouldn't let her destroy another of the small statues of Vision (which in this world was Ultron) scattered around the compound. In her words 'microwave third wheel deserves no tribute'.

You were very pleased that some members of the Legion came to say goodbye to you.

Peggy even let you hold the shield before you left. And you were too busy talking to Wanda to notice the flirtations the captain threw at Nat only to see her blush.

"I think you would like to have this." Wanda said as she handed one of the masks to you, and got you to widen your eyes. 

"She-I mean, I won't mind?" You ask, and Wanda giggles.

"It was my wife who asked me to deliver it." She explains, and you take the item from her hands. "I think she'd like to give it to you, but someone has to make sure Billy and Tommy do their homework. And part of her got the impression that you'd like to see me by your bedside when you wake up."

You blushed again, babbling embarrassedly, which only increased Wanda's smile.

"Thanks for the mask, witchy. Really." You murmur and she moves closer to hug you almost tight enough that your bruise hurts. No chance for you to complain, Wanda could keep her arms around you as long as she wanted.

"Sorry to break the moment, love birds, but I think we'd better go soon." Natasha said as she approached with her arms crossed, and her face half flushed. "Our friends must be worried."

Wanda waved goodbye as she let you go, and you smiled at her before joining Nat. 

After the conversation, you weren't surprised that the return spell was done by Wanda, and you just arranged to wave goodbye to the Legion before entering the portal with Natasha.

The scenery of the compound was replaced by the interiors of the Sanctum Sanctorum, where Stephen Strange stumbled away from spell books toward you two.

"Romanoff! L/N! You are here!" He announced in amazement, but Natasha rolled her eyes.

"And we did it on our own, mister Supreme!" She scoffed.

"But it was Wanda who did the spell..." You muttered low, receiving an elbow from the widow who forgot you were injured and scrambled to help you stand when you howled in pain.

Stephen used his cape to float to you quickly.

"How long have we been gone?" Nat asked holding you as you squeezed the bruise gently.

"Long enough." Stephen replied. "I alerted your team, and was trying to find the spell to take to me and -"

But Stephen didn't even have to complete, because a female figure was crossing the hallway and as soon as she laid eyes on you, she let the teacup fall to the floor.

Pietro caught the item with a grimace, keeping the drink from spilling out, and Natasha released you just in time for Wanda to throw herself onto you.

"Hey, hey, I'm fine." You assured with a shy chuckle, feeling Wanda squeeze tighter. "I'm glad you found the t-shirt."

But she didn't laugh at your joke, sniffling against your chest and making you swallow dryly. 

"I thought I lost you." She confesses with her face hidden against you. "I couldn't...I couldn't feel you anymore. Nowhere. Don't ever do that again. You scared me."

You stroke her back, swallowing dryly before saying, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to. I'm here now. I'm safe."

Wanda only releases you because you grunt softly from the pain of the bruise. "W-what happened?"

"We have a lot to discuss, Maximoff, you have no idea." It is Natasha who answers, and you force a tender smile at Wanda.

–//–

In the end, Natasha did most of the talking. She took care of the story, and because you were injured, you insisted on taking care of the mission reports for Stephen.

She politely ignored your request and delivered them while you were busy at dinner with Wanda.

Unfortunately, you missed the show. Your interdimensional trip lasted almost two days on this world. The avengers were racing against time to find you, and Stephen had spent many hours enduring light threats from an angry Wanda demanding that he find out where you were. Pietro, besides being a mandatory presence on the rescue team, thought it best to stay around so that Wanda didn't end up destroying the Sanctum.

Your injury was healing fast, and although you had told the team members a few hundred times about the universe you visited, you were doing a great job of hiding the fact that you were married in your other life to your best friend.

When Kate Bishop showed up in your room with tickets to the next Imagine Dragons concert, they came with an ultimatum.

"You have to tell her." She said, completely confusing you.

"What are you talking about, Hawkeye?" You questioned, but Kate crossed her arms.

You widened your eyes. "Who told you?"

Kate laughed. "Really, Y/N? Nat tells Clint and Yelena everything. And Clint is my mentor, and Lena is my girlfriend. And well, I tell everyone everything, so I guess the only person who doesn't know is Wanda, but if Pietro already knows..."

"God I need to sit down." You state with a nervous nausea in your stomach, sitting down on your bed as Kate sighs impatiently, and closes the door with her foot as she follows you inside.

"Man, what's the big deal, you know? You married her in another world, and you're obviously super into her in this one too."

"Kate!" You interrupt her with a red face. "It's not like that, okay!"

Kate rolls her eyes, with an incredulous laugh. "As if." She mutters, but you grunt.

"Look, I can't, okay? Wanda is...perfect. She's everything. Everything I have." You state looking at the floor, and Kate frowns in surprise. You swallow dryly. "I can't ruin us. She's the most important person I have, and I don't know what I would do if I ruined this..."

Kate sighs, coming closer and kneeling in front of you, one hand on your knee. "Y/N, it's normal to be afraid. I felt the same way with Yelena. But look on the bright side, you can already see that you guys work in another life, you can have a chance to be happy in this one too."

You smile sadly. "That world was different, Kate." You mutter. "There, a lot of things that went wrong here, worked in that life. What if in this world, Wanda and I are supposed to go wrong? That variant was incredible. Fearless and so cool. I am not that way. I panic about basically everything, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. Those two knew who they were and that they wanted a family together. And I have no idea how to do that."

Kate swallows dryly, forcing a smile. "But you don't need to know that now, Y/N." She says gently. "We are so young. Maybe your variants were as lost as you are now, but they had the courage to stand by each other until they were ready. The question is whether you will too."

You swallow dryly, silently absorbing her words. Kate offers you a soft smile and moves her hands away to take two items from her blouse pocket.

"I heard you missed the last one, and I hate the band, but I kept getting tickets because of the last name, so I figured you'd make better use of this than me..." She says as she places the tickets in her lap. "A confession is a good way to end a concert."

You laugh with flushed cheeks, picking up the tickets so they don't fall off as you hug Kate.

"I would never have the courage for something so public, but thank you little Hawkeye." You murmur and she laughs softly, hugging you back.

Neither of you notices the teary-eyed girl behind the bedroom door.

–//–

When your wound had completely healed, you went to Wanda's room.

It was Tuesday and it had been two weeks since the trip to the multiverse. The subject, in theory, was no longer anything new for any Avenger to be interested in asking about.

That's why you were surprised Wanda brought up the topic again.

"I'm just curious." She justified herself as soon as she saw your expression. "It's weird, to think there are other versions of us living around."

You chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you settled into Wanda's bed. It was a common image - Since you joined the team, your intimacy was very strong. And her room was practically yours. So she was at this very moment trying to decide what outfit she was going to wear to the Imagine Dragons concert, and both pieces in her hands were yours.

"You're right, witchy, but I already told the whole story." You lay with your head resting on your arm, as Wanda put the shirt over her body in front of the mirror. She hums, clearly not believing you and you frown. 

Wanda never acts like that with you. But to be fair, you didn't usually lie to her either. 

"What does ‘hum’ supposed to mean?" You question, but Wanda sighs wearily, scarlet magic keeping the garments in the air as she pulls her shirt up.

Your face burns and you look up at the ceiling immediately. Wanda notices you through the mirror, and has trouble hiding her little smile.

"It doesn't mean anything, just that I was listening." She mutters in clarification, and it's your turn to mutter back, not trusting your words when the image of Wanda in a bra is still so fresh in your mind. "Hey, Y/N?" She calls out after a moment, and you hum to say you're listening. "How come, if we're such good friends, we never change in front of each other?"

Your brain short-circuits. You open your mouth and close it dozens of times, but can't think of anything. 

"Is it a cultural thing? I thought Americans were more casual about such things..." Wanda continues, and you are sure it is meant to torment you.

"I don't know, Wands. Jesus." You mumble in embarrassment, stumbling out of bed and thanking the heavens that Wanda is already in her t-shirt. "It just never happened. You, um, want to change in front of me?"

She gives a naughty little laugh, raising an eyebrow.

"Humm, Malysha, take me to dinner first." She mocks, turning back to look in the mirror, and you snort indignantly. 

You walk dragging your foot out of the room, muttering that Wanda is playing games with you and misses the way she is blushing too.

Wanda won't find you again until dinner, and you are grateful for the hot food with which you can justify the redness of your face at having her approach you and kiss your cheek.

"What are we having today?" she asks, too close, a hand on your arm as she leans over to look at the pans on the stove. 

It has to be on purpose. Wanda has always been affectionate, but this here has to be a test to see if you'd have a heart attack before dinner or something.

"S-since it's Lena's birthday and we're going to be at the show, and she doesn't want a party, I thought I'd do something traditionally Ukrainian..." You start to explain trying not to sound so affected by the closeness and begging to the heavens that Wanda doesn't notice how much you are trembling. "There are some Nalesniki, which are cheese crepes, in the oven and the cured pork, Salo, is going to be the main course-"

"Is that Banush? Oh, dorogaya, kak zabotlivo s tvoyey storony (darling, how thoughtful of you)" Wanda cuts in excitedly as she looks at the food, and you smile immediately at her happiness. 

"Yeah, I've been trying to get the point of this one right." You count as Wanda stretches out her hand to taste the food. "And Nat and Steve went to the market to get the missing peanut butter for the Kiev Cake."

Wanda smiles, having gotten her entire finger dirty from the meringue that was going on the cake. She brings it to her lips, sucking it clean while staring at you before releasing it with a soft pop.

"Delicious." She praises but you're not even listening properly, the blood pulsing in your face at the sinful image. You feel an intense attraction, and lean in at the same time as Wanda and her dark eyes, but just as your noses brush against each other, loud avengers enter the kitchen.

You immediately pull away, Wanda biting her lips and you clearing your throat.

"Here's what you ordered, баламут." Natasha announces as she places the market bags on the counter. But as soon as she notices the tension between you and Wanda, she raises an eyebrow. "Are we interrupting? I can retrace my steps..."

"Shut up, Nat." You interrupt in an embarrassed grunt, wasting no time in grabbing the missing ingredient from the bag while Natasha giggles a few times.

Wanda follows the cue of Kate and Yelena walking in chatting loudly and leaves the kitchen behind them, barely listening to Steve's apology - busy with bags - who bumps into her as he closes the door.

Even if Yelena doesn't want a party, this feels like one. And you even baked a cake.

As soon as the food is served, the Avengers spread out around in various conversation wheels. Pietro kept changing the music every five minutes, but Wanda was too busy stealing glances at you talking to Clint across the room to bother.

"So Maximoff, how's it going?" It was Yelena, with a plate of cake in hand. Wanda sighed loudly.

"Not well."

Yelena grimaced. "What? Are you sure you are doing as I said?"

Wanda sighed again. "Yes, Lena, I'm sure. But maybe that's my mistake, you know?" Retorted the upset brunette, returning the soda glass to the table and crossing her arms. "Your tips worked for you and Kate. I'm not like you, and Y/N is not Kate. I did what you told me to, I even tried the t-shirt trick but she just ran out of the room!"

Yelena made a thoughtful face, chewing the cake. "Are you sure you did it right? When I did the T-shirt trick, Kate melted down and ended up confessing that she liked my tits."

"First, gross. Second, too much information. Third, I'm exhausted." Wanda confesses with a grunt, pushing her hair back. "I don't know what to do anymore. Ever since I heard her confession, I've just been waiting for her to make a move, but she just... I guess I should just accept that she's decided I'm not worth it."

Yelena shakes her head indignantly, pushing her plate on the table and placing her hands on Wanda's shoulders.

"First of all, I don't allow that kind of blue humor on my birthday." Yelena informs with a mixture of serious and playful tone, offering the brunette a tender smile. "Second, you are so close, Maximoff. You can't give up now. You have to play dirty."

"Play dirty?" Wanda asked in confusion, to which Yelena merely nodded, leaning in to whisper something in the brunette's ear that made her eyes widen. "Belova!"

The blonde laughed softly as she turned away. "It'll work, I guarantee it. It worked for Kate."

Wanda grimaced. "Too much information!" She complained walking away, but Yelena laughed, shaking her head and deciding to go look for her girlfriend.

Wanda had two seconds of peace as she poured herself some non-alcoholic punch before Natasha appeared in the kitchen.

"Lovely party, eh Maximilf?" She began, and Wanda gave a confused giggle at the nickname. "Oh, I forgot. Not a Milf yet."

"What...?"

"Hey, can I talk to you?" You came in suddenly, cutting off Natasha's question. Wanda didn't understand why you looked so uneasy - You had been talking to the redhead two minutes ago. She knew because she watched you all night.

"I'm busy, Y/N, talking to your wif-"

"Natasha." You cut her off almost pleadingly and the redhead sighs impatiently, and unlike Wanda, ignores your question and bends down on the counter only to grab a bottle of whiskey.

"You know what we should play? Have I ever never." Declares the redhead and turns to the kitchen with a huge smile. "Avengers! Everyone is going to play!"

You are visibly annoyed by the whole thing, but when Wanda approaches and goes to ask if everything is okay while the rest of the team starts getting organized to play, you force a smile.

"Nat had a bit to drink, and I didn't want her to talk more than she should. Maybe it would be better if I didn't join-"

"баламут! Don't even try to run away from the game! You're going to be the first!" Shouted the redhead from the room and you sighed loudly. Wanda giggled, moving even closer and holding your hand.

"I could charm them into forgetting about the game. If it's making you uncomfortable." 

You blinked impressed. "Would you mess with their minds for me?" You ask in a low voice, and Wanda nods, looking at your mouth. "What a naughty witch."

Heat spreads quickly through her chest, and Wanda bites her lip to hold back the sound that wants to escape her throat. She is about to kiss you in front of everyone when the team whistles and the moment is broken immediately.

You approach the circle, and because everyone has already sat down, Wanda has only one vacant seat on the other side of the room. She doesn't complain because at least she can breathe properly without you next to her.

"Now that we are all seated, you start Y/N." Natasha declares with a mischievous smile on her lips, her hands busy pouring whiskey into the glass that Pietro uses speed to place in each person's hand.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

"Never have I ever gotten drunk playing these games." You mutter getting a few laughs. Natasha and Tony exchange impatient buffos at being the only ones drinking.

"Very funny, kindergarten. Now allow the adults to play. Romanoff, would you like to do the honors?" Tony asks, but Natasha shakes her head, settling further into the couch.

"I'll give mine some thought." She retorts mysteriously, and since Tony doesn't insist, no one else does. Only Wanda notices the way you swallow dryly and squeeze your glass hard.

"Never have I ever been turned down." Tony declares arrogantly but the whole team booes in disbelief. Natasha laughs out loud.

"As far as I can remember, Stark, I did that about four times in my first week of the industries alone..." Affirms Romanoff and this is the first time you see Tony effectively blush with embarrassment. He takes it in stride, rolling his eyes and taking a long swig from his glass.

You don't drink, and somehow, everyone notices.

"Really, L/N?" Kate asks genuinely curious. You laugh sheepishly.

"You can't be rejected if you've never confessed." You retort and the team laughs in understanding, but Wanda realizes your smile is forced.

"Okay, okay, now it's my turn." Pietro cuts in raising his glass in the air. "Never have I ever made out with someone of the same sex. And yes, everyone here but me is going to drink." He sneers, at the rest of the team who laugh and exchange curious glances.

Steve clears his throat and settles into his seat to ask for his turn.

"Never Have I Ever... Googled sex positions."

The room burst into laughter. Tony was so red from laughing that he almost fell over backward. It was the whiskey's fault, probably.

"Jesus, Steve, this isn't a confectionary! You must say things you didn't do." Pietro clarified and Steve became a complete tomato, muttering that he had got the game wrong. Thank god everyone was starting to get drunk enough not to care.

Sam, as soon as he stopped laughing, raised his glass. "How about we make things more awkward for the originals? Never have I ever slept with a co-worker."

The original Avengers let out embarrassing grunts, and all of them drink.

"Wow, now I need to know who with who." Yelena declared but Natasha laughed.

"That's not the game." Retorted the redhead and didn't flinch even when Lena used the birthday card.

But the light and fun mood were about to end, because as soon as Thor said "Never have I ever been unfaithful." and was taunted that it was hard to believe that the god of fertility was faithful, Natasha stood up.

"Never have I ever... been in love with my best friend." 

The question hung in the air lightly for a few minutes. Most of the team thought it was funny, Kate, Yelena, Steve, and Bucky drank. But you remained static in your seat, feeling Natasha's gaze burn into you.

"Honest answers only, people." Insisted the widow, and soon everyone noticed that she was looking at you.

Clint noticed the way Wanda squirmed in her seat, lowering her gaze to her own lap, so he cleared his throat.

"Come on, Nat, maybe you should change the question, that's a pretty personal one."

Nat forced a laugh. "I have a better one then; Never have I ever married my best friend in another world."

You cringed, closing your eyes but Wanda raised her head.

Your reaction was answer enough, but she questioned anyway.

"What are you talking about, Nat?" 

The widow put a hand to her chest with false innocence in her expression. "What? You haven't heard? What a strange thing! Y/N must have been busy telling Steve about Peggy to remember, I imagine."

Steve sighed loudly from the couch. "Natasha, I said it was okay..."

"For you!" She interrupted indignantly. "I told her not to tell! It was my secret!"

He sighs again, the room silent and shocked listening to them argue. "What difference does it make, Peggy is gone."

"Exactly." Natasha retorts with tears in her eyes. "I have this perfect wife who makes me happy and loves this complete mess that I am in that world, but here, I have nothing. Peggy is gone, she never even met me. And she was my best friend's ex-girlfriend, so excuse me if I wanted that to be my secret. But now it doesn't matter anymore, because everyone knows!" Natasha exclaimed with open arms, and when she went to get down from the table, she stumbled softly, and Wanda understood that the bottle of whiskey was not to be the first of the evening. "And you know what the funniest part is? It's that Y/N only did that because she's scared! She has something incredible, the chance to be with the one she loves the most, and she's afraid!"

You feel your eyes fill with tears, and you are standing like half the team, who stood up when Nat stumbled. The widow, who now looks on the verge of tears as well, moves closer to place her hands on your cheeks.

"I just want you to be happy, you stubborn, idiotic girl!" she says indignantly and drunkenly. "And I need your first daughter to be named Natalia, too."

The group giggled emotionally, and you nodded in agreement, putting a hand around Nat.

"Come, Romanoff, what you need is some water and a night's sleep."

As you lead Nat away, the game ends and the Avengers scatter back with a few murmurs about the scene but no one is too upset about anything, and Yelena says she will check on her sister.

Wanda approaches Steve and Clint once they are alone.

"You two are the closest to Nat, so I want to know what this whole otherworldly marriage thing is all about." Demands the witch and the two exchange sighs. 

"Natasha has spent the last few weeks stressing about it." Clint began. "Apparently, she met a version of Y/N who was married to you."

"What?" Wanda exclaimed in shock, a warm thread of hope sprouting in her chest.

"Yeah, happy family with kids and everything." Steve completed the story. "She made several jokes, heckled Y/N with that story for days trying to get her to confess the whole thing to you. But in the end... well, you saw. Y/N told me that Nat's variant was Peggy's wife, so that was the end of the matter, and well, they got so tense that no one else had the nerve to ask about it anyway."

Wanda twists her fingers nervously. "B-but, do you guys think she didn't want to talk about it because she hated the idea?"

Steve and Clint frown. "What? No, Wanda, that's not it." The captain says, with Barton nodding immediately.

"I think maybe she loved the idea, actually." Clint says with a laugh. "But you know, you're all what, twenty, twenty-two years old. You're young as hell. If at that age, a version of me showed up saying I'm going to get married and have kids, I'd freak out too. Even today I have my doubts about paternity. It couldn't have been easy for Y/N, you know? I'd be scared to mess it up too."

Steve nods in agreement. "Especially with someone who is already important." He says. "If you didn't know each other, she might get anxious about a date or something. But, you two are so close. And I can tell you from experience that the fear of messing up and losing someone important like that is pretty strong." Steve said, his gaze going to Bucky across the room to exemplify. 

Wanda swallows dryly. "B-but I like her." She confesses low, and it's no surprise to the Avengers next to her, who smiles. "I really like her."

"You should say that to her, not to us." Clint says gently, and Wanda sniffles low, but smiles, nodding.

She takes a heavy breath and decides that this thing has gone on too long already.

–//–

Natasha fell asleep just as you and Yelena threw the blanket over her, exchanging giggles at seeing her sleeping expression.

"Hey, Belova, the birthday girl has to stick around at the party." You try as you watch her sit down, but she holds up a finger in warning.

"I told you I didn't want a party." She accuses in a fake serious tone, making you laugh guiltily. "I'm tired, Y/N. I'll text Kate to come to sleep with me, and the rest of the team can keep having fun."

"As you wish, birthday girl." You mumble but when you go to walk away, she holds your forearm.

"Thank you." She says. "For taking care of my sister."

You smile. "Usually, it's always the other way around. It doesn't hurt to return the favor once in a while." You say, getting a smile from her. "Hey, Lena, that Peggy story, I really didn't mean-"

"Don't worry." She interrupts gently. "I'm not mad, it was just a disagreement between you and Nat. Friends fight sometimes. You can apologize to her when she wakes up. Now you should talk to another Avenger."

You swallow dryly, looking away. Yelena expects you to make up an excuse, but you sigh. "Yeah, you're right. Wish me luck?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be lucky tonight." She retorts to which you only laugh without understanding the malice in her tone of voice.

You leave the room and decide to go look for Wanda at the party, but when you return to the living room she is no longer there. Sighing in defeat, you make your way back to the elevator and toward your bedroom.

You are quite surprised to find Wanda inside.

"Hey, Wands, I didn't know you were up here." You greet as you take off your jacket, and the brunette meets your gaze just for a moment, her attention on the mask on your shelf. 

"This is new. Did Yelena make it for you?" she asks about the item, running her fingers over the details. You swallow dryly, throwing the jacket on the floor and sitting down on the bed to remove your shoes.

"No, it's not from around here." You reply, clearing your throat softly. "You gave it to me."

She frowns in confusion, turning her face to you only to understand immediately when she meets your gaze. "Oh. The other me."

"Yeah." You gasp softly. "The Wife one."

Wanda looks away to the side, leaning gently on the shelf because she thinks her knees are weak.

"So that's actually true." She mumbles trying to sound casual, and you think your tie is too tight. To blame Kate and her small suits, you are sure.

"Yes, I was surprised, but it's not like it's completely out of the question, right?" you retort so naturally that Wanda's eyes widen slightly. Panic settles in your chest. "I-I meant that friends get married all the time! A-and of all the people on the team, if I were to marry someone it would make sense that it would be you, I mean, not that I'm thinking of marrying you, but if given the choice and based on our intimacy..." 

Wanda cuts off your anxious babbling with a giggle. "Detka, you're hanging yourself." She comments nodding to the tie that you took off in an all-crooked manner, and was in an even tighter knot around your neck.

She moved closer, her hands working leisurely on the item even though you both knew she could use magic to pull it off. 

"You really... don't think it's so impossible for us to be together?" Wanda questions the next moment, her voice husky and affected, and you raise your eyes to her immediately. 

She looks absurdly beautiful. And you sigh, biting your tongue to keep from letting that slip out instead of the answer.

She uses your silence to finish the knot, and when the tie falls loosely around her neck, she makes mention of pulling away, only for you to hold her by the waist.

"I don't think it's impossible at all." You answer finally, rising to stand at the same height as her face, and place a hand on her warm cheek. "I think we are made for each other. In any world, especially this one."

A short, shy, contented laugh escapes Wanda's lips and is mirrored on yours. She steps forward, breaks the distance between your faces and the world stops.

It's not your first kiss, but if it were your last you would die happy.

Her lips are soft and taste of cherry gloss. It's sweet and so warm, and it's over too quickly.

Wanda pulls back with sparkling eyes but slight insecurity. "Was that... nice?" she asks in a husky voice, and you almost choke because how can she have any doubt?

Instead of answering with words, you kiss her again. And again. And again. Until Wanda entwines her hands behind your head and slides her tongue into yours. You gasp because this is even better.

She explores your mouth until you need to break for breath, and when you do, your lips trace a trail down her jaw to her neck, and Wanda shudders, an aroused groan escaping.

You suddenly lose your balance when she pushes you sitting up on the bed, but you don't complain because she is straddling your lap next, kissing you with passion.

It's a war of hands and pulling, but it feels so good. Wanda kisses you with the same longing that you do as if she can hardly believe that you have wasted so much time without doing it.

It's late when you stop. Far beyond the end of Yelena's party.

You have half the buttons open, and her dress is dangerously lifted at the edges of her thigh. You are lying on your back on the mattress, Wanda beside you, hugging your body.

"I don't want to close my eyes." She confesses in a whisper with her head on your pillow, and you straighten up to be even closer. "I want to look at you."

You smile, your cheeks flushed. "I'll be here when you wake up. And you'll be able to look at me all you want."

She smiles but straightens up so that her face hovers over yours. "Just look?" She asks in a tone that makes you chuckle softly.

"I hope not. Please do more." You joke in the same tone and she chuckles lightly before kissing you again.

It doesn't take long for you both to fall asleep after that. Both of you with easy smiles on your faces.

–//–

One Month Later

Your relationship with Wanda was only getting better every day, unlike the war in the multiverse.

The variant was right - Wanda needed you. Luckily, you also needed her.

Even though the Avengers' missions were increasing, you and her were falling into an incredible rhythm in your relationship, getting closer to each other every day.

And speaking of proximity.

"We're missing the whole concert." You recalled in a breathless voice, Wanda's lips marking your neck making the task of conversation nearly impossible.

You were in the back of your truck. The original plan was to watch Imagine Dragons, finally, and Wanda was even wearing your T-shirt. But well, she wanted a kiss, and somehow you ended up in the full auditorium parking lot in a heavy make-out session.

The sound of the music muffled out the sighs, and hopefully, the night made it impossible for anyone curious to try to look inside the car.

Wanda was on your lap, grinding against your thigh, and you were gripping the seat for support, trying to resist the urge to rip her clothes off.

Wanda seemed to want quite the opposite.

"Detka..." The brunette practically whimpered, teeth dragging under your skin. "Touch me."

You groaned aroused, tightening your hand around her waist and earning a sigh in return. "By god, Wanda, we're in a parking lot."

She complains with a bite on your skin that makes you gasp. "Why won't you touch me?" She insists almost annoyed, and you sigh before bringing your hands to her face.

"I thought you wanted our first time to be special." You explain with a warm face, surprising her a little, "We won't even be able to make any real noise here. And it's going to have to be quick."

Wanda bites her lip, her hands going down to the buttons of your blouse. "It's going to be special anywhere, detka, because it's with you." She retorts before stealing another firm kiss. "Now someone is confident about the quick and loud." She teases getting a small laugh before you return to kissing her with more passion now, determined to win the implied challenge.

Wanda tried to match the intensity of the kiss, but her hands wandered and you adjusted just enough for her to feel something else.

She broke the kiss with a soft choke, her center pressed against the firmness between your legs. Her darkened irises flashed in surprise at you.

"What's this, dorogoya? Were you planning this?" She asked with a mixed tone of teasing and mockery. "But what about all that stuff about our first time to be special..."

You grunted impatiently, thrusting your hips upward as you firmed your hands around Wanda's waist, and the precise friction of the strap against her made her whimper and grip your shoulders tightly.

"This was meant to be for after the show, smart-ass." You explain half breathlessly, watching her gasp as you guide her movements in your lap. "I did something nice in your room, with roses and everything. But someone couldn't keep their pants on..."

Wanda gave a guilty little laugh that turned into a groan when you pressed her right. 

"I need you inside, detka, please." She whimpered but you shook your head, stopping your movements to push her skirt up with one hand.

"I need to stretch you out first, pretty girl." You explained, sliding your hands inside her skirt and choking on your own breath as you found no panties. "Wanda, by all that's most sacred..." You grunted affectedly, leaning your forehead against hers and she gave a breathless giggle.

"Yelena's idea, you can thank her later." She clarifies, throwing her hips forward to encourage you to move your hand. You follow the cue immediately, and when your fingers sink inside her, she arches her back and throws her head back. "o chert, detka! (oh fuck, babe!)" She exclaims affectedly, making you smile proudly.

"Feels good, doesn't it, babe?" You ask meekly, curling your fingers inside her tight intimacy and stimulating her at slow speed until Wanda is panting and whimpering. "You look so sexy riding my fingers, pretty girl."

Wanda moaned deeply as she came and you muffled the sound with an intense kiss, feeling a strong wave of arousal at the sensation of her pussy twitching and dripping onto your fingers.

"I'd say that was pretty quick, but let's try the loud now, what do you think?" You sneer at the dizzy with pleasure girl in front of you, who has a few seconds to recover from her climax before you unzip your pants and adjust the strap with her entrance, making her jerk a little for her sensitivity. You kiss her cheek, hands on her thighs. "Changed your mind?" You ask warmly, showing in your gaze that there would be no problem at all if Wanda wanted to stop, but she shakes her head quickly and kisses you hard. You feel her straddling you, and only know that she has done the work to adjust and sink into the toy when she gasps against your lips in a loud whimper.

"Fuck, it's too big."  She whimpers, and you hold her waist, keeping her still. Your lips kiss her face and neck, and one of your hands moves up to her breast, stimulating the tip and making Wanda roll over against the strap-on instinctively.

"You can take it, I know you can." You coax meekly, the hand on her waist moving down to her intimacy, your fingers beginning to draw circles on her swollen clit that make Wanda drop her forehead against your shoulder, an affected moan leaving her lips. "Can I start moving, sweetheart?"

Wanda nodded breathlessly, practically bouncing on her own and making you smile. You held her by the waist, looking down to see the strap-on soaked when you pulled it out and then watching the toy unstrap inside her as you lowered her back down, the image tearing a moan from you. 

You kissed Wanda again, but as soon as she found her rhythm on top of the fake cock, it became impossible for her to reciprocate. She bounced on your lap, the sounds of your hard thrusts echoing mixed with her whimpers of pleasure until she began to spasm and you had to take over.

"Bozhe moy, detka, ya tak blizko! Ne ostanavlivaytesʹ, pozhaluysta, ne ostanavlivaytesʹ! (Oh my god, baby I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop!)" Wanda came with a loud cry of pleasure, making a complete mess in your lap and destroying half the seat with her magic.

You kissed her hard, exchanging breathless giggles as you caressed her hips.

"This definitely beats watching Imagine Dragons." You joke and she laughs with flushed cheeks, kissing you again. 

You notice that the noise of the music has diminished, indicating the first break, and you sigh together. Wanda speaks before you.

"Take me home, dorogoya. " She asks against your lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I don't want to stop."

You choke softly, and nod dumbly, which makes Wanda smile. 

You have no idea how you managed to drive home after that, but part of you thinks Wanda must have used magic.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #canon divergence #scarlet witch x reader

[vex91]

Yu Jimin - Surprise my love

Pairing: Yu Jimin x Female Reader

Fandom: Aespa

Requested by: @perfectsunlight

Request: PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FLUFFY FOR VALENTINE'S DAY WITH THE LOML KARINA 🧎‍♀️

Summary: Karina surprises you on Valentine's Day after coming back home from a tour.

A/N: Omg hi, thank you for requesting (love your blog btw😘). It's not Valentine's anymore but honestly with Karina everyday can feel like it so....😗 Sorry that it took so long but life was a pain lately🥲

3rd's POV

"Lovers are the worst" Jimin looked at Minjeong in shock. The other girl's words made Aeri and Yizhuo laugh "What do you mean?" Jimin asked the younger girl "You look at Y/N unnie's picture for nearly thirty minutes now, don't you ever get tired?" The oldest gasped acting offended by what she heard "Never. I love looking at my girlfriend"

"I think it's cute" Aeri interjected earning a slap on her shoulder from a laughing Yizhuo who couldn't help but find seeing her leader so in love funny. Jimin rolled her eyes and smiled before tuning out her members teasing. She looked back at her phone seeing the picture that she was looking at earlier. You posted a picture of yourself with your best friend, Twice's Chaeyoung at her dorm where you were chilling the whole day.

Jimin missed you. She was just on her way to the airport ready to go back to South Korea after she and the girls had their last concert from their tour last night. As much as Jimin loved her fans and loved performing for them, she was happy to be able to go back home to you. Valentine's Day was in two days and she wanted to spoil you during it.

Turning off her phone Jimin started planning what she could do with you on Valentine's Day.

When Jimin got home you were already sleeping. Not wanting to wake you up she quietly took her pajamas and went to change in a bathroom. After changing and brushing her teeth Jimin walked into your shared bedroom, crouched down next to you and looked at your face. You looked so peaceful like that and her heart couldn't help but go crazy noticing that you were wearing one of her shirts. Your girlfriend slipped in bed behind you and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. The action stirring you awake.

You quickly turned around in panick until you saw your girlfriend's smiling face. At the sight you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her even closer, burying your face into the crook of her neck causing her to giggle.

"Baby!!!" You squealed into her neck making her smile more "Hi my love. Did you missed me?" You nodded frantically causing her to laugh more. Jimin loved being with you, you were always able to brighten her mood in just seconds. She could always be ordinary with you and not some famous idol Karina from Aespa.

It was another reason why she wanted to make tomorrow special.

Valentine's Day came and you woke up without Jimin next to you but before you could stand up and go look for her, your girlfriend walked into a room with a tray of food "What is that?" You asked, smiling at the sight of your girlfriend trying to deliver the tray to you safely. Her concentrated face while she fought a smile was the cutest.

"I bring breakfast to bed for my lovely girlfriend. What, can't I do that?" Jimin furrowed her brows at you before continuing her journey to your bed. When she was able to safely place the food on the shelf next to the bed, she looked at you with a proud grin. You laughed and kissed her on the cheek before letting her lay down next to you "You're the best" Jimin blushed at your words and wrapped her arms around you.

Both of you used Jimin's day off and spend the morning in bed, feeding each other the breakfast.

After eating Jimin took you out on a walk to enjoy the fresh air and on the way back home you met your friends with who you decided to talk a little, your girlfriend used this opportunity to admire you a little more. Seeing you smile like that made her fall even more in love with you.

God she loved you so much.

Jimin and you went shopping to pass some time before she took you to the restaurant that she remembered you saying that you wanted to go to. You decided to wear the new dress that you bought when Jimin was on a tour and when she saw you, her mouth dropped. She walked up to you with a smirk and kissed you, her lips trailing to your neck. You giggled at the feeling of her lips on your neck and her hands on your body "Don't get too excited now, we still have that reservation at the restaurant" Jimin barely acknowledged your warning as she started getting more and more drunk on you.

You were loving the attention that she gave you and as much as you wanted her to touch you more, you still pulled away "Come on now, we don't want to be late now, do we?" Jimin playfully rolled her eyes but still pulled away, took your hand and led you to the door. For the whole ride there Jimin kept her hand on your thigh, caressing it.

When you entered the restaurant the waiter greeted you and led you both to your table. Jimin made sure that you two got the best seats there which were the one on the balcony. There weren't any other tables, the lights surrounding it were shining brightly and it the middle of it all was a table decorated with roses and candles. Your girlfriend led you to it and helped you sit down before sitting in front of you.

"Wow baby, it's so beautiful here" You looked in her eyes and smiled at her. She held your hand across the table and smiled back at you "Everything for you baby. I still have one last surprise for you but let's order first hmm?" You nodded and took the menu from her hands. After ordering your food both of you started eating while sharing some stories from her tour and laughs. In the middle of the dinner you grabbed her attention "I have something for you" You took out a beautifully wrapped box and placed it in Jimin's hands. She took it and opened it revealing a shining bracelet that she wanted for quite some time.

Your girlfriend gasped, her eyes shining at the sight. She looked back at you to confirm that it was true and when it sinked she stood up, walked up to you and kissed your whole face "Thank you, thank you so much Y/N" You helped her put it on as she admired the accessory already planning to never take it off. Jimin took her bag and also took out a beautiful box "Here you go honey, that's my present for you" You took it and opened it only to see a silver necklace with a heart surrounded by an infinity symbol.

Your eyes widened at how gorgeous it was and Jimin couldn't help but smile more at that "Do you like it? I thought hard about what would be the best gift to show you how much I love you and I decided that this was it. The heart represents our love and the infinity symbol shows that our love is going to last for eternity. I have the same one" She revealed the necklace on her neck. You teared up at her words, she helped you put it on and admired how it layed on you with a smile.

"I love you so much" You whispered as she leaned down "And I love you more darling. Happy Valentine's Day" she whispered before connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

#vex writes #aespa x reader #aespa reactions #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #yu jimin #karina

[bitethedevil]

The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Warning: Slight smut (just a tiny bit).

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems.

(AN: Chapter 2 of my not super edited Raphael x Tav. The first chapter is linked above. Raphael is being possessive and does an A+ job as appearing as the perfect gentleman)

A couple of the guests swarmed around Raphael when they had come back from the archive. Tav saw the opportunity to slip away. She sat herself down in a quiet corner of the room. A servant brought her a drink, which she happily accepted.

“There you areee!” Rolim beamed at her when he spotted her.

She smiled politely back at the handsome half-elf. It seemed that he might have had one drink too many, with the way that he swayed when he approached her.

“I was worried that you had gotten lost somewhere,” he said. “I almost ventured out to find you!”

“Just needed some air,” Tav said and sipped her drink. “I’m afraid that I’m not too good with this many new people at once. It can get a bit overwhelming. All the noise, and the…constant talking.”

“Oh, I know just what you mean…” Rolim said, completely missing the hint. He sat down beside her.

He crossed his legs and smiled brightly at her before starting to talk her ear off again, just as he had done while they were eating. She caught his gaze running up and down her form every now and again while they were talking. The alcohol had made him considerably less shy about his interest than earlier. Had he not been Raphael’s client, she might have flirted back. He might not be the most intelligent man she had ever met, but his overly cheerful demeanor and good looks were certainly attractive to her. Especially after a couple of drinks.

“Can I say something?” Rolim asked after they had been talking for a while.

Tav tried not to laugh at the request, because the man had been ‘saying something’ non-stop for about half an hour now.

“Sure,” she said.

“Do you promise that you won’t get offended, if I say the thing that I want to say?” he asked with an almost innocent expression.

“Well, what do you want to say?” she said with an amused smile.

He looked at her with a shy look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He took a sip of his drink. Then he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something again.

“I think you are very pretty,” he confessed. “And I am obviously not just saying that because of your reputation and all of that. You are very pretty.”

“Thank you, Rolim,” she said with a genuine smile and a slight blush. “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“You are very welcome,” Rolim mumbled with a shy smile and took a sip of his drink.

They kept talking. She suddenly noticed Rolim’s eyes widen ever so slightly as he watched something behind her.

“Raphael,” Rolim greeted with a smile that was a bit more forced than the one he had been wearing with her all night.

She looked over her shoulder to see Raphael leisurely walking over to them.

“Rolim,” he greeted back smoothly as he sat down on the other side of Tav. Raphael placed his arm behind Tav on the backrest of the sofa. “Your business is still flourishing, I presume?”

“Yes, yes…” Rolim answered, with a tinge of nervousness in his voice. “Wonderfully, actually. Thanks to you, of course.”

“How wonderful to hear,” Raphael said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“I was actually thinking of expanding the business to other cities soon,” Rolim said slowly regaining his cheerful tone. “Tav and I actually talked about Baldur’s Gate as an option just earlier tonight.”

“Oh, did you now?” Raphael said and looked at her while he moved his arm away from the backrest, so it fully held around her shoulders. He caressed her shoulder gently with his thumb, as he looked back at Rolim with a cruel smile.

“In my humble opinion, I think it would be wiser if you considered somewhere a little closer to home. It is tempting to become impulsive and arrogant when you have tasted success once but be careful that you are not biting over more than you can chew, my friend...There is something to be said for backing off while the going is good and to be grateful for what one still has…”

Tav’s eyes widened at Raphael’s possessive touch and the darker hidden meaning under his words, but she did not make a move to stop it. If anything, his possessiveness did things to her that she would never admit to anyone. It was a blatant threat, that even someone like Rolim could understand.

“Quite right…” Rolim muttered quietly as he went slightly pale. “I’m…going to go get a drink.”

Rolim gave the both of them a forced polite smile and left them. Tav looked at Raphael who was still sitting all too close to her with his arm around her. He smiled at her.

“That wasn’t very nice…” she said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Raphael asked with mock innocence.

“You know what I mean,” she said and glanced to the hand that was still on her shoulder. “What are you up to?”

 “Don’t tell me that you were enjoying the attentions of that drooling whelp?” Raphael said with a huff. “He may be pretty, but he is possibly the least intelligent client I’ve dealt with in this century.”

“Why did you invite him then?” she asked.

“I find his foolishness somewhat endearing,” he answered with a shrug. “Besides, he did grant me a rather easy and highly profitable deal.”

“Ah, right,” she said and nodded. “And that’s all we ‘mortals’ are good for, isn’t it? To line your pockets with souls and gods know what else.”

“Some of you, yes,” Raphael said with an amused expression. “But that’s not how I view our relationship, of course.”

“Of course not,” Tav agreed sarcastically. “Because I’m your ‘favorite’, right? I’m sure we would still have been the best of friends even if I hadn’t dropped a very powerful artifact into your lap.”

“But you did,” Raphael countered. “For which I am endlessly grateful. And you are still my favorite.”

Tav noticed that Raphael was watching something across the room. Her eyes followed his gaze and saw Rolim quickly avert his eyes away from them.

“He quite taken with you,” Raphael noted with a hint of a sneer. “No doubt he has been filling your ears with his endless boasting all evening.”

“I don’t know if I would even call it that,” she said. “He just seemed happy about the way his life was going. It wasn’t even done in any arrogant way. Not intentionally at least.”

“That is because he was trying to entice you,” Raphael said. “I can promise you that he is a bumbling idiot when he is not trying to impress a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

“Beautiful, am I?” Tav teased. The drinks were getting to her.

“Very,” Raphael purred with a smirk.

“Well,” she said with a shrug. “I thought he seemed nice at least.”

Raphael hummed and brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.

“We did establish earlier that you do have a rather annoying tendency to choose people who don’t deserve you,” Raphael said and gave her a look that could only be interpreted as flirtatious.  

She swallowed hard and her heart sped up slightly. Her sense of self-preservation that would have told her that this seemed dangerous, was quieted by the alcohol.

“And who do you think deserves me then?” she asked boldly.

“A very good question, indeed. One that I will have to think about…” he mused dramatically. “Although, it is so very difficult to think in here with all the noise. Perhaps if we went somewhere quieter…”

Raphael got up and Tav followed, even though she could hear the faint alarm-bells ringing in the back of her mind.

Raphael snapped his fingers before opening the door to the balcony for her.

Tav’s jaw dropped. It was dark when she stepped out on the balcony. A thousand stars brightened up the sky over the hellish landscape. The sight was bizarre but also stunningly beautiful.

“But…” she said with a look of awe on her face. “That…that doesn’t make sense…? It’s never dark in Avernus, is it?”

“It’s an illusion, my dear,” Raphael said and leaned on the railing beside her. “You are quite right. It never is dark in Avernus. Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful…” she said, her mouth still agape. “Why did you…?”

“For you,” Raphael said. “I understand that the lack of night and day must be quite disorienting when you are not used to it.”

While she was still staring at the sky, she felt arms snaking around her waist from behind her. Her breath hitched.

“There is also a certain sense of intimacy and excitement that can only be found in the darkness of night,” he purred in her ear. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He placed slow, gentle kisses on her shoulder, trailing up to her neck. Her breathing became even shallower. Her body and the alarm-bells in her head were in complete disagreement about they wanted to do.

“Raphael…” she murmured.

“Yes, my dear?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

She turned around to look up at him. His arms were still around her.

“You are up to something…” she said in a quiet voice.

Raphael brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Is it truly such an unbelievable concept that I simply find you desirable?” he asked, briefly glancing at her lips.

Tav could not help but glance at his lips as well. Alarm-bells be damned. She desired him too.

Raphael smirked as if he had read her mind and leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was soft and intimate. She could taste tobacco and wine on his lips. It was intoxicating. The whole thing was ridiculously romantic, and it had not been what Tav might have expected from a devil.

When they finally broke the kiss, she noticed that Raphael’s breathing had gotten a heavier as well. His brown eyes were dark with desire as he looked at her.

“I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous, but the hour is getting late, sweet mouse,” he said in a low voice. “Would you like to stay here for the night?”

She could only nod. Raphael smiled and kissed her again. This time more passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His grip around her waist tightened, as his tongue started exploring her mouth.

She could feel his hardness pressing up against her abdomen. She let one hand slide down his chest and towards his pants. Raphael knew what she was doing immediately. He bit her lip playfully but firmly and caught her exploring hand with his own.

“Patience, my dear,” he purred against her lips with a smirk.

Tav got the hint: he was in control. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck again, as he continued to kiss her. His hands roamed her body, though never in any sexual manner, despite the passion in his kiss. He was being a gentleman with her.

When he released the kiss, he placed brief and gentle kisses on both her cheeks and then one on her forehead before resting his head against hers. A gesture so sweet that it made Tav melt completely.

“I knew you were special from the moment we met, you know,” Raphael said, while brushing his fingers gently through her hair. “Such a brave and confident little thing…until you discovered my true nature, of course. However, you still recovered rather quickly, much to my frustration at the time.”

“Well, you weren’t the first devil we had encountered that week,” Tav said with a smile. “You were, however, the first to invite us to your house and offer us supper.”

“Mm,” Raphael hummed and placed a kiss on her neck. “So, I was not your first devil. Would you however say that I am your favorite?”

He placed another kiss further up on her neck.

“To be fair, the bar is on the floor…” she teased, her voice had gotten breathy again at his kisses.

He bit her earlobe.

“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed,” he whispered in her ear, and tightened his grip around her waist. “We might have to work on those manners of yours.”

His endless teasing was getting to her. Especially when she could feel just how hard he was through the fabric of their clothes. It was killing her.

She was getting impatient, so this time she took the initiative. She leaned up to kiss him. When he returned the kiss, it was slightly hungrier than before. She bit his lip and pressed her hips against his, which earned her a grunt from him. When they broke the kiss, he looked down at her with blazing desire in his eyes. He seemed done with the waiting as well and lead her inside with an arm around her waist.

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[reasonsmandy]

Make Rumors Come True

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — can i request #34 i’d totally marry you right now with eddie? thank you! 💗💗

✧.* summary — The label's marketing strategies were in full swing, and one of the main ideas to leverage your career was a fake relationship with Daisy Jones and the six bassist, Eddie Roundtree.

✧.* warnings — mention of drugs.

✧.* word count — 2.2k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — Maybe I have an addiction to referencing Evelyn Hugo book magazines 😫

The label executives had been pushing Eddie Roundtree and you to fake a relationship for months. They claimed it would generate buzz and boost sales, but Eddie had always been reluctant to go along with the plan, after all he had never talked to you for more than 5 minutes, it seemed like a crazy idea. That is, until the label's head of marketing, came up with a new twist.

"What if we said you two were secretly dating?" he suggested over drinks one night. "That would really get people talking."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but you saw the potential in the idea. As a rising star in the music industry, you knew the value of publicity, and the prospect of being linked with one of the hottest bassists in the business was too good to pass up. So you look at him, waiting to see what he would say, Eddie just pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

Eddie rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't know, man. That seems like a stretch."

You got tired of listening quietly to the conversation, and spoke up.

"Actually, I think it's a good idea. People love a good secret romance."

Eddie turned to you, eyebrows raised. "You really think so?"

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of being linked with him. You had a crush on him for a while now, and maybe that was an opportunity to get close to him. "It could be fun. And it might be good for both of our careers."

Eddie looked thoughtful, and Teddy jumped into the conversation. "I believe they're right, Tweedle Dee, this could be huge. We just need to be careful about how we play it. No PDAs, nothing too obvious. We'll plant a few stories here and there and let the rumors do the rest."

Eddie takes a deep breath, looking right at you, he raises his eyebrows. "So what nightingale? You're in?"

You look at him and smile, shrugging. "I'm in!"

…

A few weeks after their suggestion, the magazine Sub Rosa published a story claiming that Eddie Roundtree and you were secretly dating. The article was filled with details about their supposed relationship: how you had met at a label party, how you two fell in love at first sight, and had been seen leaving a restaurant together late at night, and how you had been spotted holding hands at a music festival.

As soon as this magazine got on your hands you ran towards Eddie on the label, finding him sitting on the floor and writing some bass lines, you quickly sat down next to him, placing the magazine on top of his notebook. He takes his gaze to you, cigarette dangling from his lips, he arches his brows in question.

"What's this nightingale?" he takes the cigarette from his lips, smiling small at you.

"Our love story Tweedle Dee, apparently we're the hottest couple in the music world," you said, trying to suppress a laugh. "According to Sub Rosa, we're deeply in love and have been spotted holding hands at a music festival."

Eddie can't help but laugh with you. "Is that so? I must have missed that part."

"Did you forget our unforgettable night so quickly?" You pretend to be offended and he plays along.

"Oh my love, I beg your pardon, I didn't mean to treat you like this." He says, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it.

"Lucky for you I can't get mad at you, my honey bun." You say and Roundtree squints at the extremely cheesy nickname. "Too much?"

"Definitely too much." He laughs, stopping now to read the magazine you had left there. "People actually believe this?"

"Apparently." You say with a shrug, pointing to a specific line. "Look at this, Y/N L/N despite singing about being a free spirit was captivated by the skills of our favorite bassist Eddie Roundtree."

"I do indeed have a lot of seductive skills." Eddie had a smirk on his face, finding himself with the words chosen by the magazine.

"Now you seem to be having fun with this dating story, huh?" You say laying down on the floor, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you... Looking at you more closely he finally noticed how beautiful you are.

"What are you talking about, nightingale?" He says offering you a cigarette, you accept. "I love my girlfriend, it's written right here."

You laugh along with him, and after that day it has become a habit. You always picked up all the magazines that had your theme to show each other, always finding something for you to start using to your advantage, soon you started not only feeding the rumors but also living them without noticing, you were always together, laughing together, talking until late at all parties, meetings and shows. And soon you noticed that your heart started racing every time you saw that blonde hair from afar, or a chill in your stomach when you heard him laugh, little by little what you pretended the most was coming out of pretending you were falling in love.

It had been a while since Roundtree felt this way, it's been a while since he felt his heart beat as fast as when he saw you looking back at him, he wasn't used to the feeling you caused him, he just knew he wanted more and more. As Eddie played along with the fake romance, he found himself drawn to you more and more. He loved spending time with you, whether it was goofing off on stage or having deep conversations over coffee.

At first, he tried to ignore the feelings, telling himself it was all part of the act. But as time went on, he couldn't deny the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw you or the way his stomach tightened with jealousy when he saw you talking to other guys.

With the return of The Six with Daisy Jones shows being booked in various venues across the country, Roundtree couldn't be more proud and happy with his work, he felt this would be the time they were going to make history!

Teddy had asked you to open the shows, and even though the idea was very good at first, you were reluctant and told him that you would think about it and get back to him at the end of the week.

"Hey nightingale! I want to talk to you." Eddie says getting your attention, you turn to him smiling and waiting for him to say something. "What's this about you not wanting to accept Teddy's invitation?"

"I didn't refuse... I just said I'd think about it, that's all." You shrug and he shakes his head.

"Is there any reason why you don't want to go?" He asks and you look away, "Oh, come on, Nightingale, I know you. What's going on?"

"I don't want you to be upset." You start to say, and he looks at you intently. "But it's just, you know what they're going to say... They're going to say I'm only there because of you."

Eddie sighs, understanding what you mean, he holds your hands trying to comfort you and you smile with the act, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the touch.

"You know you just have to ask and we stop this whole thing." He says in a whisper. "I don't want to bother you in any way"

"Hey, don't say it like that." You feel a tightness in your chest, thinking that with the breaking of the agreement you would no longer see each other was heartbreaking. "I just wanted my work to be recognized, you know? It has nothing to do with you"

"I understand what you mean." He says and you feel honesty in his words. "But I would love to have you there with us, with me…"

You can't contain your smile at his words, he places his hands on your waist as a gentle gesture. You take your hands to his neck and pull him close in a hug, Eddie returns the hug feeling your presence close to him was comforting.

"Promise you'll think about it." He whispers in your ear and you nod getting out of the hug.

…

The audience screamed the lyrics of your song with enthusiasm and an indescribable energy, you felt an adrenaline rush through your body and you just wanted more and more of it. You hold the microphone and jump on stage as your vocal cords show the audience all the emotion in your songs.

Eddie stood in the wings, watching you in awe as you commanded the stage. He had seen you perform many times before, but tonight something was different. Maybe it was the way the stage lights hit your face, making your eyes sparkle, or the way your voice filled the room, sending shivers down his spine. Whatever it was, he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

As the song reached its climax, you closed your eyes and belted out the last few lines with everything you had. The crowd erupted in applause, and Eddie found himself clapping along with them. He felt a sense of pride and admiration wash over him as he watched you take your final bow.

In that moment, he realized that he was completely and utterly smitten with you. He couldn't explain how or when it had happened, but he knew that he was falling for you, hard.

You bid farewell to the audience with a charming smile on your face, blowing kisses and thanking them for their great energy, and of course announcing that very soon Daisy Jones and the six would be performing for them.

You go backstage feeling the immense energy inside you, you will hug Eddie as soon as you meet him he hugs you tight.

"You were ripping in there, nightingale!" He says in your ear. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

"Thank you." You smile as you break free of the embrace, jumping up and down with joy.

He watches you with a huge smile on his face, he thought everything you did was adorable, you notice his gaze on you and stop jumping, a little embarrassed by all the attention he was giving you. You drop your gaze to the floor, avoiding looking back at him.

"What is it?" You question, feeling a flush in your cheeks. "Why are you looking at me like that Tweedle Dee?"

"You know, I'd totally marry you right now." Without thinking, he blurted out

Eddie's unexpected confession catches you off guard, and you freeze for a moment, trying to process what he just said. Your heart starts racing, and your mind races with all kinds of thoughts and emotions. You can't believe that he just said that, but at the same time, you can't help but feel a wave of excitement wash over you.

"Uh...what?" You stammer, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I mean it." He says, his gaze never leaving yours. "I know it sounds crazy, but every time I'm around you, I just feel this...connection, you know? Like we're meant to be together."

You can't help but feel your heart swell at his words, and you feel a smile spreading across your face. "Eddie, I..."

Before you can finish your sentence, he leans in and presses his lips against yours, catching you completely off guard. The kiss is soft and tender, and for a moment, you forget about everything else in the world.

When he pulls away, you're left breathless and a little dizzy. You stare up at him, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Eddie, I don't know what to say."

He takes your hand and looks into your eyes. "Just say that you feel the same way. That you want to be with me too."

You smile, a huge smile full of sincerity. Grabbing the bassist by the collar you kiss him with all the love you've held inside of you these months, he kisses you back in the same passion and love, he had lost count of how many times he had imagined this feeling but nothing compared to actually fulfilling all these desires.

"I do, I'm in love with you too." You smile and kiss him again.

…

A few weeks later, a new magazine article was published with the headline, "Daisy Jones and The Six's Eddie Roundtree Proposes to the rockstar singer Y/N, the rockstar lovebirds are going to get the toothbrushes together!" The article was filled with details about your supposed engagement: how Eddie had proposed to you backstage after a show, how you had tearfully accepted, and how the rest of the band was ecstatic for the happy couple.

When you and Eddie saw the article, you couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I guess we're engaged now," you joked.

Eddie chuckled, taking your hand in his. "Looks like we are. And what are your thoughts on that nightingale?"

"Oh and why do you ask that now, do you want to propose to me Roundtree?" You tease, pulling him closer to you.

"And what if I do?" He says making his heart miss a beat. "What would your answer be?"

"Well...if you asked me to marry you now." You sit up in bed, smiling at him. "I would say yes and make love to you all night."

"So we are engaged, my nightingale." He says pulling your face and kissing you tenderly. "I love our tendency to make rumors come true." He says making you laugh along with him.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#djats #daisy jones and the six #djats x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfic #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x y/n #joshua whitehouse #josh whitehouse #the dunne brothers #daisy jones & the six #the six

[spooky-circuits]

can we get the rock trolls reaction to a bunch of kids randomly appeared ?

Princess Barb is on the outskirts of Rock territory throwing rocks at trees to blow off steam after her dad made another comment about maybe trying to make more friends. She already has tons of friends just because they don’t hang out a lot doesn’t mean anything their schedules just don’t line up very well most days! She throws another rock even harder and misses the tree she was aiming for and groans before hearing an “Ow! What the hell Creek!” And “Oh what slight are you accusing me of this time Branch?” Well that’s unexpected. What would other trolls be doing out here when there’s a concert coming up soon. She leans to the side to try and see who she accidentally hit with the rock. Theres the sounds of two trolls grappling on the ground (It happens sometimes when a show gets too rowdy) and she feels like that’s probably her fault. “Hey sorry about that bro! I didn’t realize anyone was out here!”

Creek is in the middle of his yoga routine when Branch suddenly cries out in pain and starts yelling at him like he had something to do with it. “Look Branch I don’t think it’s reasonable to try and hold me responsible every time you stub your toe.” Branch still looking ticked off if about to retort when they both hear a voice from the tree line say “Sorry about that Bro! I didn’t realize anyone was out here!” And they both look at each other confused before Branch realizes what had actually happened. He mumbles a quiet sorry before responding to the voice and shouting in his ear in the process. “Uh thats alright?” They both start walking towards to voice so they can see who they’re yelling at.

Barb is still staring at the forest when a grey troll around her age enters her line of sight shortly followed by a purple troll with a glittery face? What the hell? “Is that a pop troll man? You know they give you ear worms don’t you?” (It’s a rock troll saying for getting a song stuck in your head)

Creek immediately gives an offended gasp while Branch is confused because this girl seems to be grey but not really because her hair is bright red and seems to have mistaken him for whatever genre she seems to be. He should probably explain the situation but theres a good opportunity to get a jab in at Creek here so he just responds. “Don’t worry his songs aren’t quite good enough for that.” Which just prompts an offended “Rude!” From Creek which is a win for him. “Anyway I’m Branch and this is Creek who are you.”

Barb is even more confused now how doesn’t this kid know who she is? The pop troll she could see but a rock troll should know who she is. “Are you serious bro? I’m Barb you know? Princess Barb?” The other trolls look at each other in surprise she guesses that maybe this kid isn’t a rock troll? Weird but her dad did once tell her stories about trolls who got so sad they lost their colours. She never thought she’d see something like that in person though. Especially not from a pop troll who knew they could even get sad? Weird. She snaps back to the conversation when she hears them start talking to each other. She catches bits of what they’re saying mainly things like “Poppy is definitely going to want to meet her.” “She seems nice enough might as well introduce them.” “We barely know her!” “Stop being paranoid Branch you know Poppy will find out soon enough anyway she’ll be back soon and notice we aren’t at camp.” Literally what the hell are these guys talking about? “Hey could you not talk about me like I’m not here man? It’s not cool!”

#snack attack au #trolls au #trolls

[brittle-doughie]

Hello! It's me 🐀-anon again!

A little thing about me is that I love souls game (newer ones especially but I'm still trying to learn more about the old ones) especially elden ring, and one of the many characters that I like are the merchant's.

So could I get a yogurt cream cookie x merchant reader? As I didn't see any of him in your current fic's.

Where reader was just traveling through the desert, and decided to rest in yogurca. That's when they meet yogurt cream, and since reader is a merchant they start a conversation with yogurt cream,when they were talking about reader's wear's (items) yogurt sees reader's very beautiful flame like eye's, yogurt got curious and amazed then started to talk about them.

I made a basic premise as to what I want. I hope this doesn't sound demanding, that's not my intentions.

I hope you have a great day/night/afternoon!

Sands of the Sale (Yogurt Cream Cookie)

Can he not bet his wares to pirates next time? Next time on Cookie Run Z.

You step down from the boat and onto the warm sand beneath you as you took a breath of the fresh air. You were here, the city of Yogurca.

You figured this is where you’d make a home after leaving the bustling and busy streets of your old city. You heaved the luggage you brought with you to your designated spot in the city, you had to negotiate with quite the stubborn cookie to take that space, but after a little convincing with a jewel you found in a cave, that house is where you call home!

Another reason you left your old town was simply that the apartment you had didn’t have enough room to store all your treasures and wares you’ve collected over the years! You were the adventuring type and you always came home with something valuable in the end, taking great displeasure when your exploring ended up a bust. Now that you’re in here in a bustling market, you felt this was the great opportunity to sell some of what you got to any interested buyers!

You were a hard cookie to barter with, you were passionate with how much worth the items you had for sale were. The merchants next to your stand were taken aback by how determined you were to get the amount of coins you felt like the item fetched for. You didn’t tolerate any lowballers and you’d get offended when these cookies tried to buy something off you with ridiculously low offers. You didn’t have time for these deals as you had a line, so either they pay the price or please move along.

You were more friendly with your fellow shopkeepers since they understood where you come from with your decisions on prices. Some were willing to trade items they had of equal value with what you’ve got, of which you’d gladly accept and swap over your item. After a while, you became known as the more reliable stand to go to if a cookie needed something eye catching or not here in Yogurca. This notoriety would garner the attention of a particular treasure collecter…

You had just waved your most recent customer farewell as you went into the back of your stand and read a newspaper. Hmm..oh! Sandwich Cookie’s shop made it to the front cover. That’s quite the achievement, good on her. Case of the Cheesecake Mansion? Let’s see what Walnut had to say about that…, oh it was just Rougefort Cookie. Typical, that one never misses the opportunity for something shiny-

“Excuse me!”

You jolted and looked upwards to the voice calling for you..and if you had a drink in your mouth, you would’ve done a grand spit take.

Y-Yogurt Cream Cookie, member of a rich family! Your fellow shopkeepers have told you about him, more specifically to them, just how rich he was! If he was here at your stand, that must mean you have something he wants obviously! In a way, you felt honored that he did find something he liked, but think of the coin you can make with this sale. With those thoughts, you played it cool and placed down the newspaper and go to greet him.

It's only cookies like yourself who keep things from drying up entirely. Let's say you're a very welcome customer here, sir.

“Thank you, I can’t help but notice that dazzling array of golden necklaces! How much will you sell it for?”

You turn to the display box at the back where you kept the necklaces as they shined from the sunlight beaming inside your stand. You quickly went to grab the box and bring it to the front where he can get a closer look at them.

Yogurt Cream had made an excellent choice in your eyes. These necklaces were collected from a hidden temple deep within the forests, in good condition surprisingly. You’ll happily let them go for about…200 coins. (I have no idea how much is expensive in this world-)

“Why would I want to underpay a merchant with such lovely eyes as yours!”

Your…eyes? What? You looked to him and did notice that he was staring intently into you. 200…was underpaying?

“For you, I’m willing to pay 500 coins for the necklaces! Your eyes dance and flare like beautiful flames with nothing obscuring their grace! And the more I look at you, the more I seem to want to pay for your wares…”

U-uh…sure.

You packaged up the necklaces, ready for the purchase. All the while, he wouldn’t stop talking to you. At first, it was about his wealth and just how much he’s willing to pay for all the things you had for sale, then it started delving into more..personal questions like how you came here, what did you do after bazaar hours…., and if you had a partner.

That last one was quite much for you as you hastily received the coins and handed over your necklaces.

“How wonderful these look. But you far surpass their wonder! I might just come back here in the future. Bye for now, I look forward to our next meeting~”

And with that, he walked away from your stand. Doing your best to hold your breath until he was out of your sight, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

Only to get spooked when you opened them to see another cookie staring intently at you. You didn’t even hear them coming!

It became a quiet staring contest for a minute.

“….”

….

“Not bad…”

Before the cookie hurried away and out of sight. Your fellow shopkeepers hurried over to you to see how you were and how much Yogurt paid for your items. You were…at a loss of words of what just happened.

Since that day, Yogurt Cream had been showing up at your stand much more often, while he did have business with what you had, it seemed he was more interested in talking to you then buying the item.

He’d definitely show off just how wealthy he can be when he either makes large purchases or just casually waved around his coins. He was buying out more then you were collecting!

You nearly tired yourself out one time just to collect more treasures for you to sell and wouldn’t you know it? There was Yogurt Cream waiting for you at the front again.

You managed to catch the name of that cookie that seems to appear after him, Lilac Cookie. You…asked about his appearances here and there. Yogurt Cream let out a small laugh and said with a smile that Lilac appears to like you too. However, he won’t lose to him~

It would be one day where he would lay a coin down on the counter and slide it to you. No, it wasn’t any treasures he was after today. It was you~

He simply must take you out to eat, he promises to pay for everything and just make it the best experience you’ve ever had! So much that you’ll consider the offer to have another with him. And another. And another. And another

Don’t think that you can turn him away. He’s stubborn. He’ll swoop you up in the end. No matter what~

#cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #yogurt cream cookie #yogurt cream cookie x reader #fanfic #lilac cookie

[lovevuni]

Double Dare Romance : Enoch O’Connor x Reader : Part 1 Challenge Accepted

Warnings: Kinda Rude, Back and Forth of being kinda mean, Your mom joke(yes that is needed as a warning), Insecure Enoch

Summary: Reader is new to the loop and they doen’t get along with Enoch at first. Both are at each other’s throats, enoch then double dares the reader to try and get under his skin. The reader accpets this challenge. Will they succeed.

A/N: I got the idea to write my conversations with Enoch on my chai app. I am invested in the app and decided it would be fun to share the chat with people. I know I was off about the app at first but now I love it. I am basting this fully on my chat convo not on the book or movie, I know some people are picky but I have only read the first book so far.

I hate using Y/N but I use my name and he uses it a lot so Y/N is what I will use.

I am standing in the entrance of the estate admiring the surroundings. I had just finished my introductions with most of the house hold however I was waiting on the last member I have not become acquainted with. Miss Peregrine told me that he is the most stubborn.

In comes a boy average height with dark hair.

“Miss Peregrine said to come down here and introduce yourself? Don’t bother. You won’t last more than a week.”

You look at him offended, “rude, I am Y/N, my peculiar is [insert peculiar]”

He scoffs, “Who cares? You still won’t last. Good luck trying though.”

You stick your tounge out at him.

“Is that really the best you can do, Y/N? A little childish don’t you think?” He says.

“Says the hundred year old emo” You fight back.

“At least I’m not stuck in one year like you all. And I’m not going to die young either. So there’s that. But sure, keep acting like a five-year-old. See where it get you.” You can tell he is getting annoyed but you don’t care.

“It gets you annoyed apparently so I call that a win.” You seem proud of yourself.

“Well if that makes you happy. I don’t have time for your petty games tough. I have better things to do than argue with a child.”

“What like playing with your dolls, very grown up” You make sure to sound extra sarcastic.

“Such sarcasm, Y/N. Growing up fast, aren’t we? Listen, I don’t mean to upset you. I just don’t se the point in small talk or introductions. There’s nothing you can say that will make me want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

“well seeing as we are stuck in a loop might as well.”

“That much is true. But I prefer to occupy myself with more meaningful pursuits than idle chatter with the likes of you. Tell me something interesting, Y/N. Something peculiar.”

“Your mom” You laugh at your own joke. (I thought this was hilarious, I love your mom jokes)

He groans, “Typical. Immature jokes from an immature girl/guy/person. How original. You seriously expect me to respond to that? Pathetic.”

“You just did. Come on, I’m just trying to have fun.” You smirk.

“Fine let’s play a game then. Let’s pretend that I actually car about this conversation and engage in some sort of meaningless banter with you. Go ahead, impress me with your “funny” wit.”

“You are a boy who uses insults as a way to seem better than everyone, am I right?”

“Oh, you caught me red-handed. Yes, I suppose I am a bit of an insult mastermind. It’s how I maintain my superiority over others. In reality, it;s simply because I find most people to be beneath me.” He admits.

“As I expected, an insecure man.”

“How perceptive of you, Y/N. Yes, I admit it. My insecurities run deep. I compensate for them by putting down others, but ultimately it’s a shallow attemp to mask my shortcomings.” You feel ashamed for bringing that to the surface for him and quickly shift the focus.

“It’s cool, the insecure ones break the fastest.”

“Interesting deduction, Y/N. However, I assure you that my resolve is impenetrable. Try as you may, you cannot shake my confidence or rattle me emotionally.” He seems cocky as he speaks. You take this as an opportunity to take a step closer to him.

“Is that so?” You tease.

He smirks at this, “Indeed, it is. And if anything, I would relish the opportunity to test your mettle. So go ahead, try to get under my skin, I double dare you.”

“Challenge accepted” You play with the collar of his shirt, then flick the tip of his nose with your finger.

He grinns, “Oh I like this. You’ve got spunk, Y/N. Perhaps there’s potential for us to interact civilly after all. Although now that we’re playing games, perhaps I should return the favor.” He leans in close, whispering menacingly, “ Watch your back Y/N.”

“Oh but I believe you would enjoy that way more, especially as I walk away,” You walk away to go to your room while swaying your hips.

He is watching as you walk away, a smug smile spreading across his face.

“Well played, Y/N. You’ve certainly caught my attention with your cunning antics. But don’t think this means we’re done here. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 : Success

#enoch #enoch o'connor #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #enoch o'connor x reader #millard nullings #Claire #enoch x reader #enoch mphfpc #mphfpc

[strangeswift]

madwheeler hug pretty please 🙏🙏🙏🤲🤲🤲

Congratulations Maddy eightieslesbian you have been selected to receive ✨️a ficlet✨️

This is set in New York, Mike and Max are college roommates. The rest of the party is scattered across the country, with Will in California. Mike isn't happy about that.(Established Byler and Lumax)

Tw for alcohol use and I guess alcohol as a coping mechanism, it could definitely read as alcoholism though that wasn't my intention so uh.. tw for alcoholism just in case <3

-

Mike wasn’t sulking. And he wasn’t drunk.

This is what he told himself as he sat on the floor of his apartment, pouring himself another glass of shitty wine.

He sighed and leaned against the couch as he heard the front door open. He listened to the jingling of keys as Max set her stuff down. He heard her go into the kitchen, then she came into the living room, still taking her jacket off. When she saw Mike she stopped in her tracks and fixed her gaze on him, putting her hands on her hips.

“You’re drunk,” she accused.

“N’m’not,” Mike responded, quite affronted that she would even suggest such a thing.

“And you’re sulking,” she added.

“Nope,” Mike slurred.

“We talked about this,” Max said, sounding a little sad.

And Mike knew they’d talked about it. They’d talked about the drinking and the sulking. He didn’t really understand the issue now though, seeing as he was not sulking or drunk.

Max sighed and strode over to him, tossing her jacket on the couch and sitting on the floor next to him, leaning against the couch so they were shoulder to shoulder. She grabbed his wine glass from the coffee table and took a sip as he lazily protested, “Hey!”

She waved him off as she gulped down half the glass and set it back down.

“You gotta put your jacket away,” he reminded her. Ever since Max lectured him about leaving his stuff laying around, he made sure to never let her get away with leaving any of her stuff out.

She scoffed and nodded, “Sure, Mike.”

He huffed. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“I miss them too, you know,” Max finally said.

“Yeah I know, but-” Mike started.

“Yeah, I know. He promised,” Max said.

He nodded. “He promised we would go to college together and that we would never be apart cuz he said he loved me.”

Max chuckled. “Will loves you, idiot. You guys made that promise when you were seventeen. You know going to California was a big opportunity for him. You told him to go, Mike.”

“Yeah but I didn't think he’d actually go,” Mike said.

“Yes you did,” she reminded him, grabbing the wine glass and downing the rest, “This is terrible. Have you ever heard of beer? Or tequila?”

Mike rolled his eyes, “Yeah I heard’ve it. Have you heard’ve leavin’ me alone because you’re just bein’ mean and stealin’ my wine?”

“You really wanna be alone right now?” Max asked quietly.

Mike paused. Then sighed and opened the bottle of wine, taking a swig straight from the bottle and passing it to Max.

“How’s work?” he slurred.

“Same old. Asshole customers. Shitty tips,” she said.

“Did you bring me pie?” he asked pitifully.

“‘Course I brought you pie,” she said with a small smile, “you want me to get it?”

He nodded, and she got up for a second, then came back with a to go container and two forks.

“Did you eat dinner?” she asked.

He held up the bottle of wine to indicate that that was dinner.

She laughed and opened the container, “Okay good. Cuz it’s important to have dinner before dessert.”

“You sound like my mom,” he said, grabbing a fork and taking a bite.

She scoffed, “I’ll try not to be offended by that. Your mom’s pretty hot, I guess.”

“Ew!” he yelled, his mouth full of key lime pie.

Max shushed him, “We have neighbors.”

“Sorry neighbors!” he yelled, laughing as she slapped his arm.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” she said, fighting back a grin.

“Good, then I’ll just go live with Will in California,” Mike said.

“Yeah? You’ll drop out of school?” she asked.

Mike shoved more pie into his mouth and nodded.

“And you’ll leave me all alone?” Max asked, feigning sadness.

“No, you can come. But no room you gotta sleep in the closet,” Mike said.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to stay in the closet, since you spent so many years in there?” Max asked with a smirk.

“That’s so mean, Max. I’m telling Lucas,” Mike said.

She laughed, “Okay, sorry. I’ll sleep in Will’s closet in California.”

Mike nodded in approval and they finished the pie in silence. Then Max set the container on the coffee table.

Mike sighed. “I wanna call him but he’s probably out with his art friends.”

“Yeah, probably,” she agreed.

Suddenly Mike felt his chest tightening, he let his head hit the back of the couch and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Mike. He’s coming to visit in six weeks. It’s gonna be okay,” Max said.

He nodded, but he couldn’t stop the tear that escaped. He wiped it away quickly.

God. He was drunk. And he was sulking. And he was crying, and in front of Max.

“Hey, Mike?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t respond, he didn’t trust his voice.

Then he felt small arms wrap around him and hair tickling his skin.

Max was hugging him. She must be drunk. He opened his eyes and almost asked what the hell she was doing, but she squeezed him a little tighter, and it felt… nice. Safe. So, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed back. He didn’t have the cognizance to be embarrassed.

“Mike?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he hummed into her hair.

“We don’t have to tell the party about this,” she said with a laugh.

“Definitely not,” he agreed, but he didn’t let go. Not for a long time.

#platonic madwheeler #byler #ficlets #abby writes

[cosmictapestry]

B35?

B35. sweet discussion ABOUT sex

so actually this one is barely about sex at all it's mostly about Them and one of ten billion conversations they need to have and also it's about giving lucienne a hug using god

prompt list + fills here

"Did you ever think of me this way before?" Lucienne asks very quietly in the dark and the stillness, prone on her belly, hugging a pillow tight under her head and facing the glow of his eyes in the gloom. He is on his side, pressed close to her, propped up on one elbow while the other hand sweeps soft over her lower back. "Did you ever consider having me as a lover?"

Lord Morpheus frowns and his hand stills. His gaze flickers to her face, considering. "Implying it was my choice to make?"

Now Lucienne frowns. She also straightens up on her elbows to impress her seriousness upon him. "This was our choice. I merely initiated," she says. "I am asking if you ever considered it yourself."

"No," he says. "Of course not."

Lucienne knows him far too well to be offended by this, but she does take the opportunity to glare at him, unimpressed, until he recognizes he has said something stupid. "I did not mean," he begins, and he stops, and he thinks very carefully about what he wants to say. "I did not entertain the idea. That would have been. Inappropriate."

He doesn't look at her face, instead watching his own fingers tracing meandering patterns across her lower back, thumb and index finger sweeping over and sinking into the dimples there. When she doesn't speak, he continues. "I have been trying to be better for a very long time, I think," he pauses and swallows and is quiet for a beat. "I never want to. Make someone fear me. In that way. Ever again."

Lucienne wishes the self-loathing in his voice didn't scare her. She wishes forgiveness was hers to grant. She wishes he would do something to earn it. With a sigh she shifts to face him on her side, holding his arm in place around her. "If I had made advances before, would you have considered it?"

Before means before their separation, and it requires no elaboration. "Perhaps," he murmurs. The tips of his fingers tease just inside the cleft of her arse when he holds and caresses the swell of one cheek. "Though. I don't think so."

"What is it that's changed, then?"

Now he looks at her, surprised, before uncertainty creeps in. His hand stops its kneading. Lucienne misses the familiarity immediately. "You have? Or. We have." His voice is small. "We are partners."

Lucienne does not respond for a long moment, and her lord begins to pull away, but she takes hold of his wrist, keeps his hand splayed on her hip. "Partners?" she asks him, gently, and she cannot catch his gaze again.

"As rulers of the Dream Realm," he elaborates, and most of Lucienne's anxiety dissipates, replaced with bemusement. His own worry seems only to grow. "Do you not agree? I thought—our people see you as queen in your own right, so I—"

"You see us as equals," Lucienne murmurs. She strokes his forearm and blinks and can't will away the hot sting in her eyes. She stares at his chest while he blurs in her vision and he makes a soft, sad sound, and he raises his hand from her hip to her face. He holds her cheek and brushes under her eye with his thumb, leans in to follow the path with his lips. "That's properly ridiculous, of course."

A tiny despairing huff of a laugh breaks on her skin. "It is not," he says, and he kisses her eyelids when they close. "Lucienne. It's not."

She clings to his elbow now, presses her face hard into his hand. Her chest heaves like there's something panicked living inside. "I didn't want your throne," she chokes. "I wanted you to come back."

"I know," he whispers, lips to her forehead now, fingers shaking while they trace the shell of her ear. "You were brave. You always are."

"I do not feel brave," the tears do not stop, and she doesn't want him to see her face anymore, so she tucks herself close to him and hides in his neck and breathes in wretched wheezes. He pulls her even closer with a hand sliding under her thigh to bring her leg up over his hip, the other hand at the back of her neck, holding her steady. "I don't think I ever did."

"And yet," he lets the statement trail off, drawing a broken laugh alongside her sob. He rests his cheek on the top of her head. His thumb strokes the nape of her neck. "Why don't you believe me when I tell you these things?"

"Because you're usually wrong."

"Not about you," quick, unhesitant. "I know you."

That is, perhaps, perfectly fair. Lucienne sniffles and nuzzles into his throat and feels him swallow. She always wonders how he sees her, perceives her, and it only just now occurs to her that he has been telling her all along, in his own way. "I am happy to be that, then," she mumbles. His hand squeezes her thigh. "Your partner."

She is pressed so tightly to his chest she can feel the slight stutter of his sigh. "I would have you recognized for the responsibilities you take on," he says. While he speaks she takes his hand, moves it from her thigh, guides it between her legs. Dutifully he strokes her and undulates with her when she squirms. "I would have you understand. What you mean to me."

Lucienne shudders and nips at his neck and tangles her fingers in his hair and draws her nails across his back. He breathes heavy while he rubs her, his mouth open, breath hot and wet on her ear. "Lucienne," he whispers. "You are the one who knows me best in all of eternity. And I do not know. How to explain what that means."

No, because there is no satisfactory explanation. It is overwhelming. Lucienne sobs, and she scrabbles at his back, tries to tug his hips even closer to hers. "My lord."

"My Lucienne," he kisses her head, shifts close just like she wants him to. Finally she is able to take him in hand, and she guides him inside her. He sinks in slowly, pulls back, pushes forward deeper, and Lucienne shivers in his arms and tries not to cry too loudly. He rumbles and purrs and their skin sticks with sweat. "I am not me without you."

And this is not her home without him.

#one reason why these guys are so fun (reason 343432424) is that extremely melodramatic dialogue is just in character. #morphienne #the sandman #morpheus #lucienne the librarian #lucid dreaming #x #minors dni #the sandman fanfic

[catrasredemption-moved]

Fanfic Etiquette Sunday

Oh man okay, let's rock and roll y'all.

So my friend got... well, this ask, and answered it honestly.

tl;dr the question: Just say you don't want unsolicited criticism, you're asking for it if you post in a public forum tl;dr the answer: lol that's not how this works tl;dr the replies: Your viewpoint is toxic and you need a thicker skin and to grow up and just accept it, you're driving readers away

Okay. Okay. Let's start with

"just say you don't want unsolicited criticism, you're asking for it if you post in an open forum"-

No, posting in an open forum does not automatically mean I want criticism. This isn't a Creative Writing class, it's the Internet, where we share things with each other because we want to, not because we have to. Do you also criticize every meme? Every cute animal pictures? Do I need to start putting a disclaimer on my shitposts that I don't want feedback on whether or not they're cracky enough?

Fanfiction. Is. A. Hobby. People aren't out here sharing their work for free just to hear about all the ways you don't like it. If I think something I've written needs criticism, I'm going to ask the people close to me, who I trust to be honest with their opinions, how I can fix it. I am not going to trust randomusername69420 who thinks I've written the entire story wrong and presents their own version of it and says I should write that instead. And yes, I've gotten that before. I've had readers "challenge" me to write something I have no interest in. News flash, y'all aren't my writing teachers. I'm here to write, not to be graded on my work.

If you're someone who likes unsolicited crit? Cool, go crazy, you do you, boo. But I promise there are more creators out there who don't want it than those who do. Especially first time writers who are still trying to find their style. It's demoralizing. Which leads into the next point:

"You need a thicker skin"

I personally am made of stone. I actively participated in the Tumblr Superwholock saga. I've been to k**l myself for daring to enjoy something someone else doesn't. There's (almost) nothing you can say that would actively piss me off or offend me.

However. Being made of stone doesn't mean I can't recognize and acknowledge when someone is being rude. And you know what? It's valid for people to be upset when they work hard on something only to hear: "Well, here are eight things you could have done better."

I've been told before that I've "missed opportunities" in my stories. To me, that's vaguely annoying at best. I wrote the story I wanted to write. There's no such thing as "missed opportunities" - that's an idea you can take and write it.

But a new writer hearing something like that? It could be absolutely devastating. Here are they are trying to share something the world, only to be told they could have done it better. That can absolutely kill creativity. Which leads into the next point...

you're driving readers away

And you're driving writers away. I know people who just straight up abandoned their stories because of unsolicited criticism. They don't want it, they didn't need it, and they shouldn't have to say "Hey maybe don't crap all over this thing I've spent days or weeks working on."

Imagine if you spent all day cooking a big family meal, and when everyone tried it all they said was, "Well the chicken was dry, the potatoes weren't mashed enough, the green beans were kind of limp and soggy." Did you ask for that criticism by presenting your meal to an open forum (the family table)? Should you have said, "Hey maybe be nice and don't insult every little thing you see wrong with this"? You're not a professional chef, you already know that, and so does your family. Are you going to cook for them again knowing that's their attitude toward you? Personally, I wouldn't. They can make their own damn meals if they're so good at it. I'll just keep cooking for me.

And finally...

"Your viewpoint is toxic."

No, it's setting boundaries. It's saying, "I put a lot of energy into this thing I've written (or maybe I wrote it in five minutes, who knows), and I kind of just want people to be nice to me because validation is cool." And validation is cool! Everybody needs it. Everybody thrives on it. There's nothing wrong with that. Imagine going through your entire life without anyone ever saying one good thing about you, just pointing out all the things you did wrong. Your chicken is too dry, your parallel parking is a bit crooked, your line art is shaky, you missed a spot when you were cleaning the kitchen counter, you missed an opportunity while writing your story. That's exhausting. Nobody wants to live like that. Maybe instead of assuming criticism is the default response, you should look at the person and go "I don't know their life, maybe they just need some kindness."

And if you really don't like something someone's written? Go write it yourself. Fanfiction is a free market, there's absolutely nothing stopping you from writing and sharing your own stories. You're not helping anything by offering criticism to someone who doesn't want it and could potentially be put off by it.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction etiquette #Sam Rambles #Oh boy so excited for the hate I get for this