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pathetic-sapphic · 6 months

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arcane characters and their toxic traits in a relationship?

Arcane characters and their toxic traits

a/n: it is almost 5 am so i haven't proofread it yet ;; hope you'll enjoy it regardless

Tries to take on all the burden and suffering on her shoulders. She never wants you to get hurt or to bother you so she'd rather suffer in silence. This greatly affects your communication as she may get distant whenever she's dealing with some problems, which in turn may make you think that you did something wrong and that she's ignoring you. This simply comes from a traumatic past where Vi always had to take accountability and sacrifice herself for others. She will work on it once she sees the way it affects your relationship though. She just doesn't want to be a burden.

JINX

Very insecure when it comes to your love and loyalty towards her. Jinx is so used to thinking that everyone will eventually abandon her and you're the one person she really cannot lose. Because of this, she will often come off as overprotective and possessive. You will need to make your boundaries clear and reassure her often. Because she's so scared of losing you, sometimes she will go to drastic ends in order to make sure you're still happy with her and don't want to break up. Can also be very impulsive and has trouble sticking to the plans you two made.

CAITLYN

Can come off as insensitive when it comes to finances. Of course, she understands that many people aren't quite as well-off and Caitlyn genuinely cares for everyone but sometimes she doesn't quite understand how affluent she is. She might overwhelm you with expensive gifts, luxurious trips or over the top galas. She won't understand if you're ever hesitant when buying something or why you always make sure to see what's on sale at the market. It will take some time getting used to and you'll have to explain to Caitlyn the differences between your upbringings. Caitlyn isn't a judgemental partner, she just likes to spoil you, though she will tone it down if she notices you getting uncomfortable.

EKKO

Very stubborn when it comes to asking for or receiving help. He will push you away and hide his wounds or problems from you. Ekko is just so used to handling things on his own that he hates the idea of letting you bear his burden. He needs a long talk with you where you'll show him your support and help him realize the importance of confiding in one another. Ekko doesn't realize that it isn't a one-sided thing, meaning that if he helps you out when you need it, you'd do the same for him. Sure, he has the Firelights, many of them who are his friends but he rarely felt comfortable enough to confide in anyone. It's easy to forget that he is just a boy, trying to shoulder the weight of the world, and that he doesn't have to do it all alone.

SEVIKA

Surprisingly inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. Sevika rarely gets attached to someone, beyond the sexual sense. For her, lovers are people she sleeps with to release the tension and frustration that builds up during her shift. She never truly had a partner, someone to whom she can show her soft side, someone who will cherish her beyond her body and money. Because of this, she often struggles with showing love towards her partner in a non-sexual way or a way that doesn't include physical touch. Words. That is the biggest problem for Sevika; expressing her appreciation and adoration through kind declarations is something that will take a while for her to learn.

SILCO

Silco is often too focused on his cause towards Zaun and forgets his other priorities besides that one. This causes him to overwork and come off as cold towards anyone he deems a threat to his goal. Because of this, he may ignore his partner whenever he's stressed out and deep into work. He's also rarely home, and since he isn't a fan of PDA, it can be hard to deal with the feeling of missing him so much. He tries to make it up to you with gifts but you'll need to explain to him that such luxurious things cannot replace his touch and company.

VANDER

Similar to Vi (where do you think she got that trait from?), Vander is so used to shouldering everything on his own. He wants to assure for you to live a comfortable and fulfilled life, even at the cost of his own happiness. He works tirelessly to keep the Last Drop and the Lanes afloat and seldom shares the workload with you. You can see how the stress wears him down but he will deny it until he completely bursts under pressure. Vander doesn't understand how much it hurts to see him like this, but some kind words and gentle touches can help when coaxing him into leaning on you too.

VIKTOR

Workaholic who never takes care of himself. So burdened down with the little time that he has left, Viktor doesn't plan to waste any of it by doing trivial stuff such as eating or resting. As loving as he is, Viktor can be an insanely stubborn partner. You'll probably have to hoist him over your shoulder and lock the door to his office in order to take him away from work for a couple of hours. He doesn't realize just how detrimental the negligence when it comes to taking care of himself is to his health. You need to explain to him that he won't get anywhere by working himself to the grave and you'll probably have to beg him to let you take care of him.

JAYCE

As smart as he is when it comes to his field of work, Jayce can be quite dense and heedless of other people's feelings. If you're the type of person who doesn't know how to talk about their problems or struggles with communication, there will be some issues in your relationship with Jayce. He's the type of person who asks you what's wrong and, once you give him a half-assed 'Nothing, I'm fine.', he goes all 'okay :D', pats your back and wanders off. You need to be direct and blunt with him because hints and exaggerated sighs simply won't do the trick.

MEL

Mel is an incredibly intelligent woman who knows how to get what she wants. This means that she can be quite manipulative at times, I mean you have to be if you want to succeed in politics. She'd never act that way with you on purpose, of course not, but it may happen unintentionally. She is also another workaholic who may appear too cold with her feelings but this is simply because she's hesitant to bring her walls and defenses down. It'll take a lot of time and patience to see her vulnerable side.

GRAYSON

Grayson is sort of a combination between Viktor and Vander; works too much and is too selfless for her own good. Grayson takes her job very seriously, safety of the citizens is of the utmost importance to her. This leads to her neglecting her own well-being and health. Lots of caffeine and many long nights in the office are spent by Piltover's Sheriff and, the older she gets, the more it wears down on her. It's hard to ignore the bags under her eyes or the tiredness in her voice as she drags herself into your shared home late at night.

AMBESSA

Quite cold and guarded, someone who doesn't appreciate or understand feelings like mercy or kindness. She believes that every single person is inherently selfish and wants something from her. This is why she doubts your good nature so much in the beginning. It has been a long time since Ambessa let herself get involved romantically with someone so she has a lot of re-learning to do. This may come with a cost of your feelings being hurt from time to time, especially if you're a sensitive and kind-hearted person. As much as Ambessa loves you and tries to show that, it isn't easy to sweep years of experience under the rug. You'll need to be strong while she gets used to upholding a romantic relationship.

CASSANDRA

Cold and regal, oftentimes comes off as strict. Cassandra only wants the best for you but sometimes she just doesn't know how to say it. So instead she might go behind your back in order to ensure your safety and happiness. This often backfires, especially because of your opposing opinions. You feel as if she's treating you like a child while Cassandra simply thinks that she's looking out for you. Is also insanely stubborn, it'll take time for her to learn to look at things from your perspective.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane headcanons #sevika x reader #grayson x reader #viktor x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #jinx x reader #ekko x reader #silco x reader #vander x reader #ambessa medarda #jayce talis #mel medarda

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months

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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,382

Warnings | +18, bullying, for the moment only this

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | This work originated in Italian, so i apologize for any errors you will find, i am not a native english speaker, so go ahead and write in the comments where and what i can improve! 🥺❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

There was something in the air that day, something that weighed down her chest and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

She looked outside her room and saw large gray clouds looming ominously, it was probably an approaching storm, and even so, she would still have to go to school, she could not escape her school obligations.

She had done so much to escape the harsh judgment of her family members, she knew that attending college was a huge expense for her parents, especially for being an out-of-towner with so much rent and bills to pay, so the only thing she could do to repay them was to get good grades and come out with a more than excellent GPA, without mentioning her problems.

So the girl prepared herself for yet another stressful and gloomy day, surrounded by prof's coaches and daddy's boys who wouldn't stop bragging about their possessions for a moment.

She adjusted her jacket and grabbed the bag containing all the necessary books, grabbed the house keys on the fly and locked the door behind her, not before nodding in the direction of the elderly neighbor who came out with her adorable little wagging dog every morning at that hour.The little Maltese barked in her direction and with a smile walked over to the couple, stroking the soft coat of the dog who, excited, hoisted himself up on two paws, accompanying her caresses with his head. Y/N burst out laughing at that warm expression of appreciation, could it be that only a dog was able to accept it without judgment?

"Do you go to school, Y/N?" asked the lady with a smile.

The girl nodded, "That's right, Mrs. Choi...I have a test today, I hope everything goes well."

"Oh, take it easy, my dear. I really feel that something new will happen for you today," the elderly woman's smile widened and Y/N was interjected.

She was no stranger to the strange outings of the woman, who very often seemed absent-minded and pensive, but a strange chill caught her. She tried to dilute the air with a giggle, "I hope it's also something good," she joked lightly, the woman rippled her lips.

"It depends on your point of view," she shrugged.

Y/N's smile faded away, not wanting to inquire further she decided it was getting quite late and waved a little awkwardly to her wacky neighbor, giving one last caress to the little dog, who continued to bark in her direction, trying to call her back.

"Come on, Y/N...you can get through this day too without too many hiccups," she said to herself, trying to mentally build up her courage. She arrived at the university with a lump in her throat, aware that once she entered the classroom she would see the haughty faces of her classmates again.

She was an outcast and the only classmate with whom she had come to form a decent bond of friendship had to change her address because that faculty was not suitable for her. But to say that she had simply grown tired of being bullied was perhaps easier.

She took a deep breath and entered the classroom, as she presaged, smiles filled with mockery accompanied her all the way to her seat, she took out the appropriate book for that hour of class and ignored everyone, no one however lent her a further glance, the arrival of the teacher had nipped in the bud any attempt at mockery.

Taking a test at the first hour was never easy for anyone, but the girl more than gladly accepted that chance to escape her foolish classmates.

She carried out the task in complete silence, interrupted only briefly by a few balls of paper and notes, some asking her to have her copied, others admonishing her not to sully their own air with her presence. Y/N swallowed, such doggedness seen from an outside eye might have seemed surreal, but to her it was normalcy.

They bothered her just for the sake of it, because she was the one without money, she was the unfashionable girl, she lived in a miserable apartment in a miserable neighborhood, she was everything they were not.

"Psst... Psst, little one!"

Y/N initially ignored that low whisper, but at yet another ball thrown at her head, she turned away in annoyance.

This was Kang Yoozu, one of the boys who worked hardest to make her school life a living hell; he seemed to take pleasure in constant torture and Y/N was often one of his favorite victims.

"What the hell do you want?!" she growled, impatient. He shrugged, "I just wanted to ask you if you were free later."

Y/N frowned, what was that jerk saying?

"Why would you care, Yoozu?" she asked, strangled.

A wicked smile spread across the classmate's face, "Your parents are street food vendors, right? How much can they possibly make per month?"

Y/N found herself gritting her teeth, ignoring the amused exclamations of the others; the professor seemed to have disappeared into thin air, which frustrated the girl even more.

"I don't know what you're getting at, but I suggest you shut your mouth," she said harshly and Yoozu's eyes narrowed.

"I'm just wondering how they were keep you, don't you think it's incumbent on them to lighten their load and earn money in other ways?"

The young woman blanched at the outrageous statement-what the fuck was she implying?! "And let's hear it-what would those ways be?" she rose from her chair under everyone's gaze.

Yoozu looked around with feigned interest, then elbowed his seatmate, chuckling.

"Well, I have a lot of money, a fuck or two wouldn't hurt, don't you think? You would earn honestly on your own strength," the whole class erupted in convulsive laughter, Y/N felt humiliated. She had endured much from them, had swallowed a myriad of bitter morsels, but no, that one would not let her get away with it.

In a very brief instant she found herself facing the smug boy who stared at her with satisfaction, and soon the scarlet shape of five perfectly outlined fingers was stamped on the candid face of that being, a being who for two years had made it unbearable for her to study for a better future. The noise was a dull pop and everyone fell silent.

Yoozu's eyes turned icy, and soon he jerked up from his chair, flipping it behind him.

"You dared too much, beggar" he made to approach threateningly, no one would intervene, she knew, but fortunately the professor's voice stopped whatever was about to happen.

"What the heck is going on in this class? Y/N! Yoozu! Go back to your seats immediately before I suspend your test."

The man's threatening voice made the boy take a step back, Y/N went back to her seat, but she felt the threatening gaze of her companion behind her the rest of the time, until the end of the hour sounded and everyone got up to leave their verifications on the professor's desk, who collected all the papers and added something to the register, which Y/N guessed was about her and Yoozu. A sick feeling invaded her stomach, she did not want her average to drop because of a bastard like Kang Yoozu, he had practically invited her to prostitute herself. With him.

Disgusted she took the art sketchbook from her bag, a small smile was born on her lips.

Classes with Professor Jeon always gave her a chance to get through the day in a slightly more uplifted mood.

He was a young boy ready to put himself on the front lines to help his students, older than her by five years, he had found a place in the university where he had studied because all the school staff thought he was deserving of getting a professorship there. And, Y/N admitted at least to herself, he was handsome as well as kind and helpful. She felt her heartbeat increase when her favorite professor made his entrance into the classroom, greeting all his pupils with a bright smile, exchanged a few words with the older professor who gave way to him, and during that conversation the girl clearly heard the excited murmurs of her classmates. They did not think much about it, giving vent to their shamelessly enamored sighs.

Y/N merely shrugged her shoulders as the young professor took a seat behind the desk and gave everyone a jovial look.

"Good morning, guys" he said quietly, a chorus of "good morning" and "hello" rose from the desks.

Y/N watched spellbound as the corner of his lips slightly lifted in a satisfied smile of the man, her professor's long hair that day was tied in a ponytail that the girl found damn adorable, which contrasted with the tattoos that decorated the entire arm left uncovered by the pulled-up shirt sleeve, the man crossed his arms and his biceps swelled in a hypnotic movement that caught the girl unprepared, she felt her body set on fire and with shame removed her gaze.

What she did not know was that Jungkook was also watching her. He never let her out of his sight, in truth.

From the first time he had caught her rushing into the classroom, wet as a tender chick, Jungkook could not help but feel a strange flutter every time he laid eyes on his pupil. Their eyes had met for the first time that day, a rush had gone through him from side to side, thunderstruck by that little figure who had bowed in apology over and over again.

And it was wrong, he should never have taken an interest in one of his students like that, but he was a man, a man with secret feelings and appetites, and everything about Y/N screamed timidity and fragility.

He wanted to protect her, wanted to take her away, wanted to make her his.

He knew about the way her classmates treated her, his colleagues sometimes talked about it during lunch breaks, this was terrible for him, it hurt him to even imagine the way the girl felt, he would have protected her if it was possible, but each time the bullying happened in his absence, and as a professor he could do nothing if Y/N herself did not ask for help. He could not punish the perpetrators without catching them in the act. The young man sighed, before lowering his eyes to the register, frowning at what he found written there.

"Park Y/N and Kang Yoozu were found standing during testing time, they looked like they were about to start a fight, I intervened in time to put them in their place."

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he read his student's name next to Y/N's.

The girl was too quiet a person to provoke a quarrel, his dark irises stopped on Yoozu, who was giggling along with his partner as his scribbled something in sketchbook.

Y/N, on the other hand, waited quietly and composedly for her class to begin, and that told Jungkook a lot about the dynamics of the strange event described by his colleague.

He rose from his chair clearing his throat, all eyes were soon on him.

He sensed the mischievous glances of the girls in his direction, he knew he was very much desired, after all he was the only young professor in the institution, but he did not let those attentions buy him, the only gaze he wanted on himself was that of the same girl who was anxiously crushing her fingers.

He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms again, and in Y/N's gaze he read something very much like... desire? He looked at her, biting his lips for a thousandth of a second, clenching the tender flesh between his teeth, but that minimal amount of time was enough for the girl to widen her eyes and lower them immediately afterward, her cheeks flushed. Jungkook felt himself tightening in his pants, thinking that he was so adorable that he wanted to fuck her right then, in front of everyone.

He would have gladly made her cry as his cock penetrated her deeply.

"Guys, today I'm not going to talk to you about history and artists," he began, his voice crystal clear and smooth, "But about a subject that, unfortunately, will never stop being talked about," he paused behind Yoozu's desk.

He observed the lines drawn by the boy on the once-clean page, Yoozu made to cover his scrawl, but Jungkook was quick to catch him, "Let me see a bit, Kang," he said, before taking a better look at that jumble of shapeless lines, which took on the appearance of a naked girl with a tear-streaked face, there was a uniform at the corner of the paper and a bag, which Jungkook immediately recognized, raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction and returned the object to him, not without first tearing up the page, "Drawing your companions without clothes is not what I asked you to do, Yoozu.

Employ my hour to draw something in good taste, instead of indulging in such disgusting antics," the man scolded him harshly. The student bowed his head, humiliated, apologetically, and his deskmate turned away, as if to put some distance between himself and his friend, which the teacher laughed at internally. It was precisely people like Yoozu who had no friends.

Jungkook finally turned around and walked in Y/N's direction, stopped just behind her and lowered himself until he reached her ear, "Today's lesson is about bullying," he murmured, the girl felt her legs trembling under his low and sweet tone, she meekly nodded, writing on a vacant page the theme, then Jungkook raised his voice slightly, "I would like you all to draw a representation of bullying, also writing a small dedication to the kids who experience it firsthand."

When the young teacher turned away from her, Y/N resumed breathing normally.

Everyone caught the stinging reference, the girl gazed admiringly at Jungkook's strong shoulders, perfectly aligned in a proud posture that Y/N had no trouble finding attractive, clutched the pencil grip and set to work, unaware of the forbidden desire she aroused moment by moment in her teacher.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere

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sleepyangelkami · 3 months

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NS//FW ALPHABET .vi

☆ WORD COUNT - 5.3K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

☆ WARNINGS - smut, nsf//w themes, much much more but unfortunately i will not be typing them all out because this entire post is around sexual themes, read at your own risk ! intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

AFTERCARE, what they're like after sex vi likes to be a little rough, this is no secret to you or her. but she makes sure to change that as soon as it's over. she'll take the harness off her hips, discarding it before crawling back up to you, placing kisses on your cheek and shoulder. "you okay?" always wanting to know what's going on inside you're head. "was it okay? too rough? no?" of course she likes it rough, so do you, neither of you would have it any other way but she also wants to make sure that you can communicate your limits, even through your fucked out glossy lips. "good girl, that feel better?" she'll already be rubbing cream on the little bruises, whether it was on your hips or across your ass. she doesn't care where it hurts, all she cares is to make it better. "my pretty girl, did so well." she'll make sure to murmur as she cleans your bottom half with a cloth, trying to ignore your broken whimpers as she coos, attempting to shush you. you'll both sleep naked, skin to skin with your arms woven around her neck, hers around your waist and holding you close.

BODY PART, her favourite body part of hers and also yours it's no secret that you're obsessed with her arms, it made her a little obsessed with them too. she loves her biseps, the way they flex and most importantly, the way you stare at them, all wet-mouthed when they do. she also loves the strength in her arm to keep you pinned against the bed, stopping you from writhing under her or the way they sit at either side of your head, watching you get wide eyed at feeling a little trapped yet awfully flustered. she loves how much you love them. she adores all of you, truly every inch of your body but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love those thighs impossibly more. she loves grabbing at them, pushing your little skirts and dresses up to reveal the skin that she can push and pinch at. she adores nothing more than being inside you, head thrown back yet still, her hands are on those precious thighs, kneading and playing with the plush skin. they're like two stressballs in her hands and you can't help but writhe against her as she does so.

CUM, anything to do with cum really vi can squirt pretty easily, it just comes naturally to her. but what she loves even more than squirting is making you squirt. when you'd looked away, all shy and embarrassed after telling her you'd never been able to squirt before, she just had to take it on as a challenge. and when she was fingering you, pumping her fingers in and out as her mouth sucked on your clit, she couldn't help but grin at the spurts coming from your cunt. "atta girl." she'd coo, pulling her mouth away and pressing a slap to your pussy. "that's it, good girl." all proud of herself for being able to achieve the said impossible.

DIRTY SECRET, a dirty secret of hers vi wouldn't call herself a criminal. sure, she spent her fair share inside stillwater though she thought those circumstances were sort of unnecessary. she thought once she got out, she'd left her thief days behind her. not that she'd call it stealing, she always said she was just doing what she needed to survive. but if that were true, your white cotton panties wouldn't be hidden in her drawer or your lacy pink ones wouldn't be sitting in her back pocket. she was so discrete about it, waiting until you'd turned away or even walked away for a second before slipping them between her fingers and into the back of her pants, right in the pocket. she was good at being sly about it, after all, she'd had practice. you'd come back, looking through your laundry basket or the folded clothes on your bed, brows knit together all confused. "something wrong, cupcake?" she'd question, pretending not to be interested as her eyes studied the comic book that had been sitting on your bed or something or other. "jus' looking for something." you'd mumble distractedly, fishing through your clothes once more, you'd think you'd gone insane. but vi then turned her attention on you, feigning confusion. "what're you looking for?" she'd smirk at the way you'd flush then, turning away. "n-nothing."

EXPERIENCE, how experienced is she? does she know what she's doing? you know, most people think vi doesn't have much experience seeing as she was in prison for a couple years but i BEG TO DIFFER. you cannot tell me this girl wasn't getting around behind those bars. every lunch, every dinner, every time she got out, she was eyeing up someone knew. she didn't care whether they were desperate or played hard to get, she had no preferences when it came to that prison, not that she had a lot to work with anyway. but aside from that, she was pretty much open to just about anything. she didn't care who it was, if they were willing to give, she was willing to take. though, it was often in the most uncomfortable places in the world. in the janitors closet or some other remote area where she wouldn't get caught. times could get tough inside prison and sometimes all you needed was to blow off some steam and get that anger out which is exactly what she did. i think vi would be very experienced in that department which is why it was so different when it came to you. both in a soft bed, no pressure, no need for stress relief. it came calm to her, like she didn't have to rush unlike the people in the prison where if the quickie didn't hurry up, they'd be getting caught by enforcers. which is probably not what one would want to see as they... you know, finish?

FAVOURITE POSITION, self explanatory I think vi likes having you in missionary. there's something about her holding you close, one hand coming beneath your chin to force your head up. "look at me when you take it, 'kay baby?" her voice filled with little whimpers here and there because as much as she tried to stay strong, she couldn't help the way you made her feel. she wants you to keep eye contact all the time, forcing you to look at her whenever your eyes drift away or shut closed. when you're mumbling about being close and she can feel your cunt tightening around the strap, she can't help but grab your face roughly again. "look at me when you cum." it's not a suggestion nor question, it's an order.

GOOFY, is she humorous in the moment? does she make jokes? during sex, vi is usually serious. she's not serious in a scary way that would make you rigid but she doesn't often bring in goofiness to the situation either, unless, of course, you'd asked her to. she wouldn't mind if you'd asked her for something more lighthearted but when vi has sex, her usual instincts take over. she becomes a much more serious person, her entire mind switching to one thing, pleasuring you. the whole point was to make sure you felt good and the last thing she wanted to do was make you insecure in any way. with that being said, she might murmur a couple things with a humorous chuckle. "yeah? you like that cupcake?" when she does something slightly out of your guys' normality. but of course, she knows you like it by the way your back is arching and moans fall freely. but she can't help it but tease.

HAIR, how is she groomed? does the carpet match the drapes? i'd imagine that vi shaves pretty regularly. something about being in prison for so long and not exactly having the option to. now, she has a sense of freedom about it and seeing as she can have longer showers and such i can imagine that she'd be in there for over an hour, shaving too. it also probably makes her feel a little cleaner after being in the prison (not that it's dirty not to shave some people just find it makes them feel cleaner afterwards) but when it comes to you, she really doesn't care. she'd probably prefer you to be a little shaved but i don't think she'd care to the extreme that you'd have to be bald or anything like that. she'd just prefer you to trim, at least, otherwise, you're good! as long as it's not too much.

INTIMACY, how is she in the moment through romantic aspect? vi prefers it intimate. even if she's degrading you, perhaps she's praising you, either way, she's worshipping your body completely. being in the prison, she's had so much meaningless sex that this is so important for her, you're important to her. and having sex is one of the most vulnerable things you can do. she wants not only you to be comfortable but herself to be too. she's not big on 'fucking around and getting it over with' not anymore, at least. with you, she likes to take things slow, even if it's teasing. but don't get me wrong, you can still take things slow to a intimate level and still make sure you're covered in bruises and looking up at her with big watery eyes. she supposes it's just the aspect of caring. there's a difference between degrading some random girl in the janitors closet than degrading you, her beautiful cupcake, even if she's calling you a pathetic slut. even her praises are laced with love, strangely enough.

JACK OFF, anything to do with masturbation vi doesn't masturbate a whole bunch. she's done it many times before, of course, as everyone has but she's not the biggest fan of it. she prefers to feel someone else. before, when she was in the prison, she could have any girl she wanted at her fingertips so she didn't need to. but now that it's just you and her, she has you in her clutch almost always. but of course, as every relationship, there are times when you guys can't be together. and if she's horny then, she has no problem trailing her hand down her own pants, rubbing one out to the thought of you. even if you're not there, you're still the only thing plaguing her mind. she'll think of your whimpers and moans while trying to keep her own at bay. her head stuck in your pillow.

KINK, a kink of hers don't get me wrong, you're one hundred and ten percent vi's pillow princess, she just loves having her fingers burried inside you and her mouth on your weeping cunt. she's just not always sweet about it. vi will edge you until you can't take it anymore. she loves the way she feels you clamping around her fingers, mumbling all needily about how you're close, so so close and it's as if one more pump of her fingers could do it for you. but before you finish, her hand is leaving your body, slapping down on your pussy gently before kissing your shoulders. she loves the way you cry out for her, tears filling your eyes and she has no problem mocking you afterwards. "awh, baby, were you close?" and you'll nod, all sniffly. all you needed was the sweet relief she'd promised you beforehand and yet it was the only thing she wasn't sticking to. it felt good, definitely, amazing even but you just needed to reach the edge and she was denying you of that. "poor thing." she'll push her hand down again, pleasuring and pleasing you until you're seeing stars. and just as you're ready to cum once more, that familiar knot inside your stomach, her hands leave you again. "stop whining." she'll murmur, slapping your cunt again. "or else you won't cum at all."

LOCATION, where is her favourite place to do it vi prefers your bedroom. you have a big upcity house in piltover so the girl could live in your bed if she wanted. it was surely big enough. and with your massive house, walls so thick, she didn't have to worry about anyone hearing you both. there's a difference between you and the other girls she was with, she wanted to take her time with you, make sure you were as comfortable as she would so she could touch you in all the places that she wanted to. vi thought that being comfortable was important and for her, she didn't think she'd be so comfortable doing the things she wanted to you in a public bathroom or a friends house. she loves having you in your bed, the scent of you filling the room, everything was so unique and fit to your personality. she loves being surrounded by your sheets when you finish or having your music player in the corner of the room, one of your favourite songs a low murmur as you whimper and whine into her shoulder, trying to keep your noises down but as always, she didn't like that. "don't do that, wanna hear you." because you had the power to be as loud as you pleased seeing as you were home and comfortable.

MOTIVATION, what turns her on and gets her going vi isn't someone that would get mega turned on easily although it's seemingly always in the back of her head to try and turn you on. she's done it so much that she now does it subconsciously. she doesn't mean to talk to you in that tone at the worst possible moments but when she does, she can see it on your face what she's done. that is what gets her going. she loves when you suddenly get all flustered, a little bashful, especially in front of people. perhaps you're trying to talk to cait when she puts a hand around your waist, touching you a little too much for it to mean nothing. she loves seeing the way your cheeks heat up and you suddenly stumble on your words. she just loves putting you into your place, watching you get all subby and dumb for her so quickly. the way you'll look at her to finish your words for you, or stand a little closer, almost behind her. she loves the way you lean on her mentally, making it seem as though you were incapable of doing anything without the help of your vi. then, at least, everyone would be able to grasp the fact that you were off limits.

NO, something she wouldn't do, turn offs pick this as you please, there's no kink shaming on this blog ! 🩷

ORAL, preference in giving or receiving, skill, ect vi's a giver. and she's good at what she does. she knows this, you know this, it appears as though everyone does. and this makes her awfully confident. she loves having her strong bisep holding down your hips as she licks you out, lapping you up like a dog without any shame. she loves the sound of squelching that you both unintentionally make and she relishes in it. she watches your back arch off the bed and smirks against you, her tongue embedding itself in your hole. however, if you did want to give, she wouldn't exactly have a problem with it. she'd have you lying on your back, looking up at her through your lashes as she sits herself on your face. "look so pretty under me." she'll murmur as she gets herself off on your face, her hips rolling as you did everything in your power to make her feel good, licking and lapping at her with your little kitten licks. she was so good to you, it was only fair that you gave her the same feeling back in return.

PACE, is she fast, slow, stamina, ect vi has stamina like you've never seen before. when she has her strap embedded deep inside you, it's like she can't stop. she's rough with her hands grasping your hips and thighs, squeezing the plush as she fucks herself into you over and over. vi loves edging as we know, but the night usually ends with overstimulation. and between both that and the roughness or her hands on your body, you're so fucked out and subby by the end of it that you're practically putty in her hands. vi can go many rounds all while holding her fast pace without so much of a stutter of her hips, she can withstand much more than you can with her high stamina so if you're willing to let her, she'll use you like her little toy for as long as she pleases once you're fucked out and crying into the mattress.

QUICKIES, her opinion on them? how often? ect not the biggest fan. don't get me wrong, of course you turn vi on. sometimes, she's sitting in a restaurant with her legs folded over themselves, squeezing them together as she tries to stop thinking about it. she fails, of course. every little thing that you do, looking at her with your doe eyes, your bottom lip between your teeth, even your grabby hands at her biceps, you make her go crazy sometimes. but as badly as she wants to bend you over the bathroom counter and take you then and there, she won't. this way, she won't get to spend all her time using you, won't get to take her time when dragging your panties down your legs or edging then overstimulating you until you can't walk. but that doesn't mean she won't tease. and boy, does this girl love to tease. she'll put her hands all over your body, squeezing at your thigh or pushing them around your waist. she speaks to you in the very tone that has your face hot as rocks and whispers things in your ear. but she won't take you then and there. she'll wait, until she thinks the time is right. then, she'll make a steady exit with you in her arms, bringing you right on home. as soon as you reach home, she's making her move. and as you moan with your eyes rolled back as her hand reaches your puffy clit, she can't help but grin. "this what you wanted, hm? got you all pent up, huh? so mean." she'll mutter, ready to finally put you where she wants you.

RISK, is she game to experiment? does she take risks? usually, vi isn't one to take risks, she likes having you inside your big bedroom, everything so you as she fucks the stars out of your head. with that being said, you did still live with your parents. and sure, your walls were thick enough but sometimes, just sometimes, there may be a couple... complications. if vi is fucking you, she's not stopping. it's her rule. so, if your mother is at the door, twisting the knob and asking why your door is locked, you're trying to respond in the steadiest voice you can. "'m j-jus'- nngh- exercising, mom!" worst excuse ever but it's all you could come up with as her fingers are stuffed in your hole. "are you alright?" she'll ask hearing the noise you'd tried to keep at bay. you mentally cursed yourself. "think i-i hurt my leg, 'm fine!" she'd ask if you needed help to which you'd instant tell her no. with a strange expression, she'd walk away from your door. "such a peculiar child." or, if someone was calling you, you'd ignore it. vi though, she'd always answer her phone, no matter the situation. "yes?" her voice wil ring through the phone, despite the fact that her fingers are still pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. when the person at the other side of the phone would ask what the sound was at one of your particular whimpers, vi would smirk. "i got a dog." she'd almost laugh. "a dog?" they'd question, in confusion. "yeah, a cute little bitch." you though, were too fucked out to care.

STAMINA, how many rounds can she go for? how long does she last? like i said before, you'd never met someone with the stamina that vi had. it was truly unearthly, you thought it was slightly concerning, actually. vi threw you around like a rag dog, her big arms allowing her to do so as she fucked her strap into you, strings of curses and moans falling from her lips. it would get to the part of the night where you're just too fucked out to even say anything, babbling though you were sure they weren't even real words, the only thing you could say was one particularly short word, vi's name. it was exactly how vi wanted it, she wished for the only thing to be running through your head to be her and that pretty pink strap in your hole. vi can last long too, it's almost incredible how she can fuck at least two orgasms out of you before cumming herself. however, when she does eventually finish, she likes to make sure that you're right on the edge too so you can do it together, there's something so intimate about having her hands enveloping yours, both of you seeing nothing but white at the exact same time, your climax enveloping you.

TOYS, does she own toys? does she use them? nothing is better than coming home and having you either bouncing on her cock or laying down as she pumped it into you, getting rid of every nerve in her body. though, as much as vi adored her strap, she'd be lying if she said it were her favourite thing to use on you. vi own's a vibrator and boy does she put it to good use. she doesn't care how you take it but if that vibrator is on your clit, she's going insane. it's one of the ones with the big wand so she'll force your legs up, holding it down to your clit and cooing as your back arches. "awh, feels good, sweets?" and you'll barely be able to respond, so wrapped up in your own thoughts and pleasure as the wand vibrates against you, sending shocks through your entire body. or perhaps she's using it on you both. she's done it before where she's hovered over you, rubbing her clit against yours and just before she gets close, she decides to add a little more fun to the mix. she'll place the vibrator between you two, watching as your clit is vibrated against it, her own doing the same as she holds back her noises, her juices mixing with your own. her favourite thing about scissoring is how messy it gets so when she's given the option to put a vibrator between you two, knowing it'll only get impossibly messier, she can't not take the opportunity.

UNFAIR, how much does she like to tease? sometimes it seems as though vi knows you better than anyone else in the world, she likes to throw this around every now and then. like when your eyes flutter closed and your hole tightens against her fingers. she knows you so well, she knows that face and those strings of moans. "you close, baby?" she'll murmur against you and when you nod with a whimper, she'll take her fingers straight out of you, tongue coming down to lick the juices from it. you'll whine at the sudden loss of contact, feeling cold and empty without her long fingers to fill you up. but when she asks what's wrong, you simply can't speak, all nervous and hot. she loves this side of you and uses it to her advantage multiple times. she likes when you're shy, but she makes sure you know it won't slide with her. "what is it you want, sweetheart? gotta say it or else you won't get it." but when you're merely whining, her hand will come down to press a slap on the outer fat of your thigh. "you have words." she'll remind you while grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at her even through your glossy eyes. "use them." and when you do, you get your way as promised. as soon as you're babbling out the words about needing her fingers, her mouth, her strap, whatever it is you desire in that moment, she's pressing little kisses onto your skin. "see? wasn't so hard was it, pretty girl?"

VOLUME, how loud is she? what sounds does she make? whimpers. what? she can't help it. poor girl just wants to please you by slamming her 'cock' into your cunt over and over, repeatedly hitting exactly where you need it. but the way the base of the strap hits against her so good, she can't help the whimpers that fall from her mouth. "hmmph, cupcake, y'feel so good." she'll mumble, too fucked out to degrade you. that's when you know it's gotten her, when you know she's close. when she's too wrapped up in her own mind, dizzy and seeing stars. she's not able to get the words out to call you her filthy slut so instead, the words tumbling out of her mouth are like praises, sweet nothings even. and when she knows you're getting close too, her mouth is like a waterfall that simply refuses to stop. she'll utter and mumble things to keep herself grounded, trying to focus the attention on you and not her flaming cheeks. "so g-good f'me, angel, always so good- huuh~" trying to utter the words before being stopped with a gasp, one that shows she's just as close as you are. the spurting feeling follows soon after.

WILD CARD, random head cannon talking about herself in third person is something vi often does. whether she's alone, telling herself that everything will be fine she just has to fix it or she has you wrapped around her little finger, loving the sounds you make. your head will be looking down to her own face, sitting between your thighs, eyes trailing over the tattoo on her cheek. you'll be a whining mess, just wanting her to touch you so you can get your sweet release. her biceps will pin you down, holding you against the bed. "shh, baby, vi will make you feel good." talking about herself as if she isn't in her own body. though you have to be honest, she did hold that promise up as her head dipped further between your thighs, tongue flat against your clit and tasting you. or perhaps she has your face in the mattress, your ass up in the air as her strap fucks into you. you're whining as you squirt again and she just cant get enough of the juices flowing out of you. but you? you're mumbling and babbling incoherently about how you're making a mess. you'll be so worried about the juices falling all over your sheets and now it's getting so messy that you can't think of anything else. vi, though, to soothe your worries, merely fucks the strap so deep inside you that you can't think of anything other than her, soothing down the skin of your hips. "shh, sweetheart, vi'll clean up the mess either." reassuring you like the sweet girl she is.

X-RAY, what's going on underneath them clothes? a bright pink strap. she loves the strap as it goes with her outfits, and her hair and everything else belonging to you. she loves having you bounce on it, whining about how you can't take it anymore but vi won't let you get out that easily. she's telling you to keep going or if she can truly see the exhaustion in your eyes, her hands are finding way to your hips, bouncing you up and down so you don't have to do any of the work. the last thing she needs is her princess getting too tired before she can finish with her. you also go slightly feral over her boobs. perhaps she's laying on her side, your legs propped up with rope she's bound against your body and you're just writhing. she has the vibrator sat pretty against your puffy clit. you're whining and whimpering, not able to keep still and before you know it, your lips are on her boobs. she's trying to contain her sounds, trying to hold the vibrator upright while your tongue swirls around her nipples. you can't get enough, just needing your mouth on something and the way her boobs feel snug between your lips, your warm drool falling all over the milky skin. you just can't contain yourself as you feel yourself approaching yet another orgasm. but this time, vi's too focused on the way your lips feel against her boobs to have any power left in her to tell you not to come.

YEARNING, how high is her sex drive? sometimes, vi can't take the way you are around her. especially in public. the way you're grabbing at her or standing close yet a little behind her when interacting with other people. she just loves it so much that she's sure she could dick you down then and there. but, as said before, she lets the tension build up until you both break. but that doesn't mean she doesn't get horny quickly. my god, this girl cannot for the life of herself go through one day without feeling a wet splotch form in her boxers. then, she blames you. perhaps it was because you'd bent over once to pick something up or you had your hands behind your back and she'd imagined tying them that way. you'd always just stare up at her and ask her when she'd take accountability for merely being horny. she'd shrug her shoulders, telling you never. and you'd believe it.

ZZZ, how quickly does she fall asleep afterwards? vi just has unlimited energy, it seems. when you guys are finished, she wants to make sure that you know you're safe, at home, with her. the sheets will be slightly messy but oh well, that's a tomorrow problem. Her main goal is to make sure you're okay. she'll place the wet rag where you need it, washing you off with the energy that she still has. then, you finally find yourself in her arms, her skin hot against your skin but thankfully the cold sheets offer a little relief. vi will talk to you while she's still awake, about anything and everything. just because she knows you like falling asleep to the sound of her voice and god knows she has enough energy to keep talking. "really?" you'll babble, all tired as your eyes are screwed shut. she's telling you random facts and stories that you've probably already heard before. yet every time, you seemed more impressed. "really, baby." and she'll only stop talking when she asks if you're still listening and receives no response. she knows you're sleeping so she tries to stay as still as she can while playing with your hair strands between her fingers, smiling softly at how good you were for her. she still has energy so she'll lay awake for a while but she won't leave, fearing you'll wake up and she wont be there. she wants you to know that she will be there, always.

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ginnsbaker · 17 days

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (7/?)

Part summary: Six weeks later, Leigh decides to throw herself a birthday party.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.600+ | Warnings : None | Author's Note: Just a reminder that this doesn't strictly follow canon events. Borrowed some elements from the actual birthday episode, but it's going to go very differently for us :) Enjoy!

Six weeks later

“Hey! Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Leigh’s mom calls out from the kitchen as Leigh hurries down the stairs. She runs straight into Amy’s arms, a ball of energy, drawing bewildered looks from her mom and sister. Ever since Matt died, they are used to Leigh either being too quiet or too snarky. Today, of all days, they were expecting her to be something else much worse. But it seems they're mistaken as Leigh turns to Jules, yanks her in close, and kisses her hair.

Jules and Amy share a look. To say this as an interesting development would be an understatement. It's her birthday—her first one without Matt, who had been at the heart of her celebrations for the last decade. They hope Leigh finds some happiness, truly, but these past several months have taught them to temper their expectations.

They keep their silent exchange to themselves, watching as Leigh picks up a croissant and takes a heart bite out of it, her face lit up with the widest smile. “Happy birthday,” Jules grins, pushing a small envelope towards Leigh. “Got something for you.”

“Thank you!” Leigh exclaims. She eagerly opens the envelope to find a bunch of homemade coupons, each promising some sort of favor from Jules, good for the next year. They range from “Will listen to your rants for 30 minutes, no interruptions” to “I will restart the book club you tried to get me and mom to do and actually read the books this time.”

Laughing, Leigh flips through them. “These are brilliant, Jules. Might have to use one today,” she says, already thinking about which one she'll cash in first. Then, she pulls Jules in a bear hug, as if it’s the most exquisite present she’s ever gotten in her lifetime.

“You okay?” Leigh asks when she notices Amy staring at her.

Jules gives their mom a warning look as Amy struggles to come up with a response. “Nothing, I just… I didn’t think you’d be doing quite so well today. That’s all.”

“I didn’t either but we all make choices and I’m choosing to have a great birthday. So, let’s do this thing!” Leigh says in a manner that Jules feels too over the top. Amy starts laying out the plans for the evening and Leigh has a blank look by the time she finishes running them through it.

“I think I want a party,” Leigh announces. It’s met with astonishment, as if it’s the last thing her family’s expecting to hear.

“You do?” Amy.

“A party?” Jules.

Leigh isn’t perturbed by their reactions. “I do. I want a party,” she confirms. She delights at the dumb look on their faces as she reiterates, “Tonight. I want a big party.”

“You’re not having a big party.”

Danny calls her up the minute he gets her Facebook invite. He's partly furious about receiving the invite through Facebook, given that they’re “kind of seeing each other”, and partly incredulous because he couldn’t believe she’s making plans on her birthday without considering the fact that they are “kind of seeing each other”.

Leigh, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she flips through a recipe book on her kitchen counter, rolls her eyes so hard she worries they might stick that way.

“Well, yes, Danny, that's exactly what I'm doing,” she fires back matter-of-factly.

Danny's frustration simmers on the other end of the line. He had already made plans, not bothering to consult Leigh because he assumed that their day would be spent together—privately, just the two of them.

“You didn’t think I’d have something planned?” he asks, more hurt than angry.

“Why would I think that?”

“Because we’re dating, Leigh,” he says, appalled that he needs to remind her. Leigh takes a second, biting her lip. Maybe it was a bit inconsiderate that she didn’t consider Danny when she impulsively decided she wanted a big celebration. But that flicker of guilt is short lived.

After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she’s actually excited for something, the last time she thought, I deserve to be happy.

“Yeah, well, I can still do what I want, Danny,” she retorts.

“Now you’re acting like a child,” he snaps.

Leigh feels a flash of anger, then something else—determination. “Maybe so. Come to the party or not, I don’t care. I'm going to have fun, Danny, with or without you.”

“Fine. Just don’t—”

Leigh doesn’t let him finish. With a press of a button, the call ends, his words cut off mid-sentence. Too often, she’s been criticized for not always following through with her declarations, but it's a different game when she's out to prove something.

Drew steps carefully around a minefield of clothes and makeup scattered on the floor to get to Leigh. She's curled up over her laptop, one leg propped on the chair, chin on her knee, in a posture that makes Drew wince. “For a fitness instructor, you're not exactly a poster child for back health,” he says, announcing himself to his best friend.

Leigh's head snaps up at Drew's voice, but instead of annoyance, a smirk quickly spreads across her face. “Good thing I'm not a fitness instructor anymore, then,” she says. Then she turns her attention back to her laptop as if he’s not there. Drew moves to sit on the edge of her bed, flops down on it like a ragdoll and stares at the cobwebs on the corners of the ceiling.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Leigh,” he says.

Leigh is unphased, keeps typing. Then, as if she’s just heard his remark, mutters a distracted, “What have I been doing?”

“Avoiding. You've been avoiding writing about anything that's even remotely related to love or grief,” Drew says.

This time, Leigh stops typing. She sighs, a long, drawn-out exhale that seems to carry the weight of the world. “I’m busy, Drew. This gig is eating up all my time.”

After leaving the Beautiful Beast, she took on a part-time job as a remote project manager. With Matt gone, she's left to deal with the debts they racked up together. She loved her studio job, really did, and wasn't fazed by the slim paycheck because it helped her mom out. Being surrounded by family has been a huge support (despite her occasional squabbles with Jules), but she knows she'll need to move out on her own again at some point. Ultimately, the pressing need for financial stability has pushed her to seek out better-paying opportunities.

Drew straightens up, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. “Bullshit.”

Leigh looks over her shoulder at him with mild irritation. “What do you want me to say, Drew?”

“You're meeting your weekly quota on other topics,” he points out. “Makes me wonder if bringing you back to the advice column was…premature.”

It sounds like a threat, but coming from him, she understands it as an early warning in case the senior editor begins to notice the issue. Leigh smiles thinly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why does it even matter which topics I choose to engage with? First off, I'm collaborating with other writers now; it's not entirely my show anymore. Secondly, I've been doing a good job—”

“A great job, actually.”

Leigh tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. “So, what's the problem?”

“They're expecting you to lead on those topics because you've lived through them. They're looking for more authenticity in the pieces,” Drew explains.

Leigh looks out the window, seemingly lost in thought, then shakes her head slightly. “What, you want me to write about how I started picking fights left and right after Matt died? Do you want me to detail my attempts at fixing his depression, as if it were as manageable as setting a broken bone?”

“You don’t have to delve into the most personal details.”

“It can’t be authentic if it’s not personal,” Leigh sneers.

“Just think about it, okay?” Drew presses, a little desperately.

Leigh chews on the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. There's a whole part of her story she hasn't even touched on with him—the string of one-night stands with Danny, the way she's snapped at anyone who dared to disagree with her in the past few weeks. She's been on edge, not really liking the person she's been, and the thought of putting that version of herself out there for everyone to see is nothing short of humiliating.

As a writer, she knows what to say, the same way a psychologist would know what to do even if they don’t need to have all sorts of human experience to help someone in every situation. But she also questions her right to preach behavior to others when she's far from having it all figured out herself. Regardless of her indecision, she knows Drew’s not going to drop it until she at least tells him she’ll consider.

“Fine,” she says, with a nod. “I'll sift through the inbox and tackle the ones I feel up to.”

“There you go, that's my girl,” Drew says, visibly relaxing. But then, a moment later, he feels a stab of guilt for showing up mostly because of work. It's been a while since they've hung out, their usual brunch dates falling through one after the other, and their daily chats have shriveled up to a few messages a week, with mostly just memes from Leigh that Drew hardly ever acknowledges. Eventually, Leigh just stopped sending them.

Drew fidgets, avoiding eye contact for a second before it dawns on him—he hasn't just been busy; he's been dodging Leigh on purpose ever since he popped the question to his partner. He was worried Leigh wouldn’t take the news well, considering the things she’s been going through. But if he’s being brutally honest with himself, a part of him just didn't want her grief to dampen his excitement. He was worried her sadness might dampen his spirits, and in a bid to preserve his own happiness, he’d left her out in the cold. He hadn't stopped to think that maybe he owed Leigh more than just her column.

“So, uh, how’s it going?” Drew asks cautiously.

“It’s going,” Leigh offers. Heartfelt talks aren't their thing, so Leigh decides to brush it off fast. “By the way, I'm throwing a birthday party for myself.” It comes out a bit more cheerfully than she feels.

“A party? That's great, Leigh!” Drew exclaims. “And hey, if you need help setting up or anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah,” she forces a smile, not as enthusiastic as she was about the idea at breakfast. “It's tonight, though. You're coming, right? And bring anyone fun you know.”

“Wow, OK,” Drew nods before his face morphs into a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, is this where you're planning to hard launch your new relationship? At your party?”

Leigh’s eyes sharpen into slits. “You know about Danny?”

“Jules told me,” he says.

Rolling her eyes, Leigh retorts, “Let me guess, she told you so you'd join the haters club?”

“Nah,” Drew shrugs, his smile bright and sunny. “Danny's okay, I guess. If you're happy, I'm happy.”

She hasn’t been not happy lately. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it sure beats being on her own. So maybe she is—or at least, on her way.

“Thanks, Drew,” she murmurs thoughtfully.

Drew makes himself comfy, chin in hand, looking like he's all set for one of their marathon catch-ups. "So, how did you and Danny even start? Tell me everything."

Leigh's trunk is a one-can band, banging and clanging with every turn. Her groceries create a beat, something to fill in the lack of sound in her car. It’s how she drives these days—in utter silence. Before, she wouldn't even think of heading out without the perfect playlist, which often took her an extra five to fifteen minutes after settling into the driver's seat. But these days, as soon as the key is in the ignition, she twists it and takes off, not even waiting for the car to warm up.

Organizing a party by herself (with Jules' indispensable assistance, of course) and extending invites to her entire Facebook friends list has turned into quite the ruse. She's seasoned enough to temper her expectations—knowing well that not everyone who RSVP'd “yes” will show, and that some who didn't bother to RSVP might just surprise her by showing up. So, she's stocked up on as much food as her sedan can hold.

While Leigh's mind wanders to what snacks to whip up and what sauces to pair them with, she accidentally ends up on a lane that forces a left turn instead of going straight. This little misstep means she's got to take the scenic route home, which, by pure coincidence, takes her right past your clinic's street.

Her heartbeat quickens, though it shouldn't. There's no reason for it. She hasn't seen you in a month, not since the night she made a bold declaration on her bedroom door.

Leigh never planned on actually liking you as a person. Initially, her motive was purely to get a closer look, to dissect what it was about you that caught Matt's eye, what you possessed that she lacked. However, the answer to that mystery didn't remain elusive for long after spending a little time with you. You had this kindness about you, soft and easy, something Leigh’s always found just out of her reach. She prides herself on being decent enough but next to you, she feels a bit more like sandpaper to your silk.

Matt was like that too—gentle, easygoing. Leigh is well aware of her own rough edges, her sharp corners that don't quite align with Matt's smoother ones—and, by extension, yours. You and Matt had more in common than just interests; you both saw and reacted to the world in similar ways. Finding out that you and Matt were alike in important ways, in ways she wasn't, is something she's still learning to cope with.

As she nears your clinic, her eyes instinctively search it out, a habit she can't seem to break.

This time, her timing is impeccable; just as she glides by, you step outside with a puppy in your arms, licking your face all over. You catch sight of her car from a distance, and you couldn’t stop the surprise that flashes across your face. As she drives past, you give her a little wave, puppy still in tow. Leigh cracks a small smile, then throws on her aviators, maybe trying to hide a bit more than her eyes. She sneaks one last look in the rearview, catching you watching her car disappear down the street before you head back into the clinic.

As soon as she gets home and is safely out of the car, she opens her messages.

The last text you sent her says, “I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends,” sent three days after the encounter in her bedroom. She didn't respond to it, and you didn't push any further or impose yourself on her.

She wishes she had at least reacted with a heart or sent a smiley face to your message. Maybe then, inviting you to her party tonight wouldn’t feel so awkward. Nevertheless, she manages to type out a quick invite and extends to you the courtesy of bringing a plus one, someone you believe would be good company.

Your response arrives within five seconds of her hitting send.

“Thank you, I'll be sure to drop by :)” - Y/N

Satisfied, Leigh sets her phone aside. Now, she can focus on making those Deviled eggs.

The dress she's pulled from Jules's closet is a bold choice: deep black with a plunging neckline and a hem that flirts with daring. It's sexy, but not quite Leigh's usual style—and that's exactly why she loves it. It clings to her in all the right places, promising a confidence that Leigh isn't entirely sure she feels. Her hair, which is normally pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, hangs loose and wavy. She tops off her outfit with a slick of red lipstick and layers of dark eyeliner.

With about an hour to spare before her guests are due to arrive, Leigh decides it's the perfect time to follow through on a promise she made to Drew. She logs into the shared inbox of the advice column she co-manages with two other writers at Basically News. Leigh scrolls through the submissions, Drew’s words playing on repeat in her head. He had a point. Maybe people don't always need the right answers—answers she hardly uses herself. Perhaps what they really need is someone to affirm what they're already feeling, to say it's okay to follow their gut, to be themselves.

She reads an interesting entry from one EspressoEyes:

“Do you think it's too much for me to give a puppy to this woman I like? I'm not even sure she likes me back (or like me in general 😣), but it's her birthday, and I feel like a puppy could be exactly what she needs at this moment.”

Leigh reads the message, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Personally, she muses, she'd welcome a puppy from just about anyone. But that's just her, especially with the rollercoaster of a year she's had—she's at a point where the gesture, no matter who it comes from, would be a welcome slice of joy.

Thinking it over, she starts replying, “A puppy is a big gesture—it can be an overwhelming gift for some. It might even be seen as too forward, especially in certain relationships.Yet, a gift is a gift. Sometimes, you need to just go for it, without apologies. If her feelings don't align, she'll let you know. She has to, because giving a puppy is essentially a love declaration, in case you hadn't realized. And who knows? She might feel the same about you. Just make sure she's actually up for the responsibility of a pet. They're for life, not just for birthdays.”

She signs off with her pen name—Gigi Herrel—a clever anagram of her name as it would have been had she taken Matt's last name in marriage: Leigh Greer. Though it never quite felt like her own. She only used it when she came back to Basically News in obeisance to his passing. Drew has granted her the autonomy to publish her responses without his oversight (“Just make sure your grammar is perfect,” he said), so Leigh doesn’t think twice before publishing her response.

Leigh moves on to browse through other submissions, this time, on those related to marriage and loss—the very subjects she promised Drew she would tackle. She’s been in those shoes, still feels like she's wearing them. With a deep breath, she clicks on one and dives right into it. Her first attempt at a response feels inadequate, prompting her to hit delete and start anew. This process repeats itself, one draft after another, until she has five versions sitting in front of her, none of which feel right. With a huff, she deletes them all.

Just then the doorbell rings, pulling her out of her advice-column vortex. Leigh glances around, momentarily disoriented. It takes her a moment to recall that there's a party happening downstairs, and she's meant to be enjoying herself.

She’s halfway down the stairs when Jules's eyes land on her. Leigh freezes, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “I…couldn’t find the coupon for borrowing your clothes.”

Jules just smirks and arches an eyebrow, taking in Leigh in her dress. “Oh please, as if I ever keep track. Besides, that was just gathering dust after my ‘slutty Halloween phase’ as you so lovingly called it.”

“Cool! Perfect!” Leigh says, ignoring the backhanded comment. Her focus immediately turns to the front door as another guest arrives. “Hey, Dad!” she calls out.

Leigh’s dad walks in with his partner, and she greets them with a warmth that's been rare these days. He hands her a large, beautifully wrapped box. Leigh grasps the gift with both hands, shaking it gently, much like a child on Christmas morning. She’s thanking them when an old friend from high school she hasn’t seen in forever walks through the door, a bottle of wine in hand. Her mom swoops in like a hawk, reminding everyone it's a dry party in support of Jules's sobriety, and the wine is swiftly traded for a mocktail.

For the next hour, the house fills up. Leigh finds herself out back, tending to snacks, when a small line of people forms to chat with her. They each ask if she’s doing okay, their condolences tucked neatly between cheerful birthday wishes. Leigh’s smiling, but it's so fake even she is not buying it, mentally blacklisting half of these people for next time.

Just when the parade of condolence callers is beginning to fray her patience, one of her actual favorite humans finally shows up, saving her mood from souring completely. Drew looks striking in a simple black polo shirt, so much so that it reminds Leigh of the time Matt got all jealous over him, until Leigh let him in on the secret that he plays for the other team.

He passes her a little envelope, his birthday offering—a gift card. Leigh’s barely expressed her thanks over the simple present when he jumps right into feedback on her latest advice column.

“Read your puppy counsel on my way here. It felt a bit... casual, don’t you think?”

Leigh smirks up at him, arms crossed, the gift card crinkling between her forearms. “Just say it's terrible advice if that's what you mean.”

Drew purses his lips before relenting. “Fine. It was terrible advice.”

“Expect more of that if I tackle the stuff I’ve been avoiding. Still think it’s a good idea?” Leigh says, nodding like it’s exactly what she wants to hear. Drew lets out a sigh, swiftly steering the conversation away before their playful banter escalates into a disagreement. With Leigh, he knows all too well that the edge of an argument is always closer than it seems.

“Anyway, happy birthday, again,” he says, trying to lighten the mood again. “Ryan's tied up with work stuff, totally wiped, but he did wish you a happy birthday.”

Leigh’s face hardens slightly at the mention of Ryan. She’s been harboring this nagging thought that Ryan dislikes her, a suspicion fueled by a criticism she once shared with Drew in confidence, suspecting Drew might have passed it along. Drew, seeing her expression change, doesn’t rush to correct her assumption.

“He hates me,” Leigh concludes before Drew can even get a word out.

“He doesn’t—”

“What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t have kept it between us?” she demands, feeling betrayed.

“Because Ryan’s my person. I tell him everything. That’s how being in a marriage works,” he says, but the moment he sees Leigh's face fall, he wishes he could retract those words.

Leigh bristles, her voice rising, “I know how being married works!”

She's livid, because that should go without saying. How dare he imply that she no longer knows, now that she's only half of a whole—her best friend, of all people.

Drew exhales coolly, as if trying to douse the proverbial fire between them. “Why does it seem like we're always either fighting or about to fight?” he wonders aloud.

Leigh’s anger softens into something more reflective, and she sighs, the fight draining out of her. “I don’t mean to...” She trails off, searching for the right words. “It’s like I’m always ready for a battle. I don’t know why. It’s like I’m expecting it, waiting for it, at the end of every day.”

Drew lets the moment breathe, waiting for both of them to deflate completely before tacitly reaching out behind Leigh for a snack. “These are great, by the way,” he says between bites, acting like they hadn’t just been at each other's throats.

Leigh tries to match Drew’s candidness, but inside, she’s reeling. It bothers her, this pattern they’ve fallen into—her temper flaring up, followed by a quick brush-off, as if these outbursts are merely now a part of who she is. She hates that she’s become predictable in her volatility, that her explosions are met with a shrug and a wait-out-the-clock mentality from those around her. She’s tired of it, tired of being seen as a ticking time bomb, her anger and hurt dismissed as just Leigh being Leigh, waiting for the reset button to be hit so the countdown can start all over again.

But it's her birthday, and she's brought these people together on a Tuesday night for fun. She didn't gather everyone just to tell them, once and for all, that they need to stop acting as if her husband just died.

So, she goes with the flow, laughing when it's her cue, even though deep down, she feels more alone in the crowd than ever.

With the absence of alcohol, the party winds down by 11 PM. Guests begin trickling out as early as 10, and by the time Leigh is bidding farewell to the last attendee, she's already donned an apron, ready to take on the mountain of dishes left behind.

Which is to say, showing up right now pretty much means you've missed the whole party.

Pulling up in front of Leigh's house, the night already deep into its quiet hours, you’re running on the adrenaline of the day's emergencies. Two cases back-to-back at the clinic, one of them diving straight into surgery, left you no choice but to push everything else to the side. Suzie, who was meant to join you as your plus one, ends up stuck back at work, tending to a recovering St. Bernard, so it's just you and the sleeping puppy on your lap now. For her sacrifice, you promise to take her out to a nice lunch one of these days.

The puppy starts wagging its tail in its sleep, and you look down with a smile at the little dreamer. The decision to give Leigh the puppy wasn't made lightly. You've been turning the idea in your mind for a while now. Initially, you didn't even realize her birthday was coming up, and the invitation to her party caught you off guard, especially considering the somewhat unresolved way things were left between you two weeks ago. The timing of her birthday, your rocky history, it all made you second-guess whether a puppy was a good idea. In search of a voice outside your own head, you turned to a favorite advice column you often read in your spare time. To your surprise, your submission was picked up by one of the columnists, and the response you got wasn't just advice; it was the push you needed. You were lucky to be able to catch their answer, just before you got home to change for Leigh’s birthday party.

Trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, you give yourself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror and apply a fresh swipe of nude-colored lipstick. With one last look, you carefully step out of the car, the sleeping puppy nestled securely in your arms. The moment you move, it stirs, burrowing deeper into your armpit, seeking refuge from the light of the street lamps.

Everything's too quiet as you walk up to Leigh's house. You anticipated some noise, music or chatter—anything to indicate the party was in full swing. But there are none. Could you have missed the party? Or worse, did Leigh get the date wrong on her invite? Hesitantly, you press the doorbell, instantly regretting it, thinking you might be waking up the whole house.

Just as you're about to bail, the door swings open and it's Jules.

“Y/N!” Jules nearly trips over herself getting to you, eyes wide when she spots the furball you’re holding.

“Hi Jules,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Is that a…” she squeaks out, already reaching for a cuddle before you've even nodded. Jules is all over the puppy, who seems just as happy to be the center of attention. After a while, she looks up, a bit more composed but still glowing.

“I didn’t know Leigh invited you. Too bad, you just missed the party. But you should definitely come in and say hi to Leigh,” she says. You want nothing more than to see Leigh again, even if only for a brief moment, just to accomplish what you came here for and perhaps wish her a happy birthday. But with the party over and you potentially being the only guest, it feels like walking into a situation you don’t think you’re prepared enough for.

Then, as the puppy licks Jules' face off, she pauses and looks at you funny. It clicks for her—no collar, no leash, just you and this puppy who appear no more than two months old.

“Oh my gosh, is this for Leigh?” Jules gasps.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I-If she wants him.”

Jules looks at you, then at the puppy, her smile blinding. “Well, I want him. But if she doesn’t, I’ll be more than happy to be his mommy.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm. Still feeling skittish, you ask, “Do you think it’s an appropriate gift for Leigh?”

“You're a vet. It's kind of on-brand for you,” Jules quips.

You laugh again. “Really?” you ask, kind of hoping for a more solid reassurance.

Jules considers it for a second, before saying, “I can at least assure you it’s not unwanted.”

Good enough, you think. Jules hands you back the puppy and then says, “She’s in the kitchen. Look, she’s not exactly in a good mood, but I think you should go for it anyway.”

That’s two people egging you to go ahead with your surprise. It must be a sign from the universe. You make up your mind for the final time. “Thanks, Jules,” you say.

“Anytime.”

You tread lightly, making sure your footsteps don’t give you away as you approach the kitchen. Leigh is at the sink, doing the dishes, clad in a black dress that skims her thighs, her feet bare against the cool kitchen tiles. Her shoulders are slumped, her movements laconic, as if her body is there, but her mind is miles elsewhere. The expanse of skin revealed by her hair tied up in a high ponytail captivates you, holding you back from announcing your presence. You allow yourself a moment to take her in, thinking this might be the only chance you get to really look at her like this.

You’re about to say “Hi”, when Leigh whirls around, startling you both. Leigh, not expecting anyone to be there, loses her grip on the plate she's holding, and it smashes loudly against the floor.

“Jesus!” Leigh’s scream summons Jules and her mom into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you are trying to do damage control—holding the puppy with one hand and attempting to gather the ceramic shards with the other as Leigh continues to stare at you in shock.

Amy, wrapped in her robe, looks from the mess on the floor to you and then to Leigh. “What’s going on here?”

Jules is unfazed, simply watches the entire scene from a corner of the room, smirking.

Your cheeks flush with shame, and you find yourself grateful to be still seated on the floor, your back turned away from Leigh's family.

“I’m so—” you start, but Leigh cuts you off.

“Okay, everyone just...calm down," Leigh says. She kneels down beside you, her hands joining yours in cleaning up the broken pieces.

“I'm heading to bed,” Jules says and then winks at you. “Happy to see you, Y/N!”

Amy wraps her robe more snugly around herself, then with a small, puzzled shake of her head, says, “Well, good night everyone. And happy birthday again, sweetheart,” before she walks down the hall and out of sight. Leigh gets to her feet, a slight nod of appreciation directed your way as she holds open a trash bag for you to deposit the ceramic shards. That’s when the puppy finally catches her attention.

“And who's this little guy?” she asks, a smile starting to play at the corners of her mouth.

You clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. He’s yours if you want him. Don’t worry about refusing, there’s someone lined up to take him in case you’re not—”

But Leigh’s already gently taking the puppy from your arms, instantly cradling and bouncing him as though he’s a tiny human baby. It’s a sight both funny and utterly endearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle, feeling your heart grow a size or two.

“Who wouldn't want him? He's perfect,” Leigh says, her eyes not leaving him as he nestles comfortably in her arms. Hearing those words, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. She doesn't find it odd; she's already falling for him.

“Happy birthday,” you tell her, and when she looks at you, her smile is so bright it could light up the whole night. Right there is everything you hoped for. All you really wanted was to see her happy.

“Thank you so much,” she murmurs, clutching the puppy tighter to her chest. Then, cocking her head to the side, she inquires, “What's his name?”

The grin on your lips can’t be helped, and you’re hoping she wouldn’t see just how much she’s having an effect on you. “I haven’t named him yet. He was always meant to be yours, Leigh,” you say.

Her smile just gets bigger as she gazes down at the little furball in her arms, and you think this is exactly how things were supposed to go down. It’s one of those rare moments where reality lines up perfectly with expectation.

“I think I’ll call him Logan.”

You and Leigh retire to the living room after she kindly offers to make you decaf. As you settle onto opposite ends of the couch, tucking your feet under you, Logan instinctively takes shelter in Leigh's lap, as if he already knows he belongs there.

“So…Why Logan?” you ask, after making a mental note of how Leigh makes her coffee: one cream, two sugars.

“Well,” Leigh says, her fingers gently stroking Logan’s deep chocolate fur, “he just looks like a little wolverine, doesn’t he? With that color and those defiant little eyes.”

The dots connect in a funny, unexpected sort of way. Leigh and comic books don't seem like the most likely pair.

“Ah, like the X-Men character. I didn’t know you were a comic book fan,” you say.

She laughs, a sound that’s light and free of any shadows. “Oh, I wasn’t. Not really. It was all Matt. He had this massive collection, and he was pretty obsessed. I guess some of it rubbed off on me after all.” The mention of Matt doesn’t bring clouds into her eyes like you expected. She talks about him like she’s looking at something distant but dear.

“Thought you were bailing on me tonight,” Leigh , almost casual but there’s this undercurrent, like she’s really saying she’s glad you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I got stuck at the clinic longer than expected.” Leaving her waiting, especially today, was never part of the plan. Your work as a vet often means unpredictable hours, but you hadn't expected it to stretch so far into the evening.

“It’s okay, you didn’t miss much.”

Her casual dismissal makes you wonder, but not wanting to pry too much, you shift slightly, asking, “So, how did it go? Did you enjoy yourself at least?”

Leigh simply smiles and shrugs, an action that speaks volumes without giving much away. “This,” she nods down at Logan, “getting him from you, feels more like my birthday than anything else today.”

The conversation that follows is easy, skipping over the day-to-day stuff—nothing deep, but you're both there—really there—and it's nice. It feels like a fresh start, and you're deeply thankful for the second chance she's offering you. You promise yourself you won't mess it up this time.

But just as you’re both delving into more personal topics, someone rings the doorbell. Logan perks up, his head tilted, ears alert. Leigh gives you a look, as if saying she's not expecting anyone else to show up this late at night. She puts the puppy down on the floor and when she opens the door, it’s Danny, looking sorry for himself. He’s holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It seems as though he has the whole evening planned out in his head—apologize, crack open the wine, and maybe be invited to Leigh’s bedroom afterwards.

Danny’s eyes find you and his face falls a bit. He wasn’t expecting company, certainly not you. “Leigh, can we talk?” he asks, then looks pointedly at you. “Alone?”

Leigh looks torn for a moment, glancing your way as if she's not ready to let you out of her sight. She insists it'll just be a minute, but you can read the room. This is something they need to sort out without you playing third wheel.

“It’s all good, I'll head out,” you tell her though you're staring Danny down, making sure he knows it’s not because of him that you’re leaving. Leigh either misses the whole glare-off or decides to stay out of it. Logan tries to follow you as you make for the door. It’s hard leaving him behind, but you know he’ll be happy to have found his forever home. You kneel down, giving Logan a soft kiss on the head, promising him you’ll be back soon. And then you turn to Leigh, a question at the tip of your tongue but she already knows what you’re going to ask.

“You can see Logan anytime,” she says with a faint smile. “I might need your help with him sooner than you think.”

The moment you close the door behind you, Leigh's jaw sets in a firm line, bracing herself to confront Danny. Her main priority is to get Logan settled, so she decides that forgiving Danny might be the quickest way to send him on his way. But Danny’s focus now isn’t on apologies or making it up to her. He’s fixated on Logan, his brows knitting together in confusion and, curiously, a bit of annoyance.

“Who gave you that?” he asks Leigh as if he’s just referring to an inanimate object lying around the house. He sounds like he's almost accusing her of something, and Leigh's baffled.

“A friend gave him to me,” she says, nodding towards the door you've just walked out of. Danny's face twists up in an instant, like a storm cloud bursting. “A friend,” he repeats, and the way he says it, it’s clear he’s not just asking. He’s fuming with jealousy, and Leigh can’t wrap her head around why.

A gift is just a gift, right? Why would…

Oh.

Earlier, while she was reviewing submissions for the advice column, someone asked if giving a puppy as a birthday gift to someone they're interested in would be a good idea. She remembers how she happily encouraged them, telling them to go for it.

At this realization, Danny, the puppy, and everything else slide to the back burner. The only thing occupying her mind now is the deep, dark brown hue of your eyes, like rich espresso.

EspressoEyes. That's how the person behind the submission signed off. It's like a lightbulb moment, but softer—like waking up slow.

It's you.

Oh.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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strwbmei · 3 months

Text

summary: fucking march's fever out of her

contains: soft sex, friends to lovers at the end, fingering (character receiving), arguably dubcon since march is sick, sort of porn with plot?, virgin march, not proofread, maybe ooc

pairing(s): march 7th x gn!reader

a/n: i need to spoil her and take care of her and eat her out. thank you

"Cute girls can't get sick!"

Or so, were March's last words before diving straight onto the freezing snow of Belobog and proceeding to make snow angels. It had been a long time since the Express had the time to visit Jarilo VI, and while you understood her excitement, her decisions, as expected, did not end well for either of you.

A few days later, March is still sick and you're taking care of her while the other Nameless enjoy their visit to Belobog. "[Name]..." She called out to you with a whiny voice, her lips put into a pout. "Don't you think it's fine for me to go down to Belobog now? Look, I'm basically fully healed!" She sat up from her bed, doing air punches as if that would prove that her fever was gone.

"Pfft..." You snorted. "What are you even doing? And no, I'm not letting you go anywhere until your temperature is back to normal." You say sternly, sitting down next to her. "I'm sorry, March. I know you were really looking forward to visiting Belobog again, but your health comes first."

She slumps in defeat as she lays back down on her side, her back turned to you. "Fine... I enjoy spending time with you like this more, anyway." She mumbled, but due to how quiet her voice was, you only heard the first part. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing." March sighs, turning to face you with her rabbit stuffy clutched in her hands. "Hey, uh... I'm sorry you have to stay behind with me. I really wanted to show you my favorite spots in Belobog."

You tilt your head, resting the back of your hand on her forehead to feel her temperature. "You sure you're alright? You're being way too nice today." You tease. She pouts, playfully swatting your hand away. "Hey! And here I was trying to be considerate..."

You chuckle at her reaction. "Y'know, you're surprisingly pretty cute when you're sick."

"Well, for your information, I'm perfectly cute even when I'm not sick!" She retorts.

"Yeah, yeah."

In all seriousness, taking care of her wasn't an inconvenience to you in the slightest. She was surprisingly cooperative, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy how much more clingy and affectionate she is when she's sick. After all, you've had feelings for her for quite a while now... Her bubbly personality and her admittedly cute looks just seemed to draw you in more and more each day.

March speaks up after a few seconds of silence. "Can I ask you for a favor, [Name]?"

"What is it?" You tilt your head in curiosity.

"Can you... cuddle with me?"

"Hm." You raised an eyebrow. Honestly, you expected something more serious. Cuddling was almost routine to the two of you whenever you hung out, especially during sleepovers when March would cling to you in her sleep like you were a pillow. You never minded. In fact, you've grown to like it.

Not once did she ask first, though. "Why?" You ask with a grin, ready to play it off as a joke. You're not sure what you were expecting, since it was a stupid question in the first place. Cuddling wasn't out of the norm for you two, and you wouldn't be surprised if she was the type to find comfort in snuggling with somebody whenever she was sick.

"Because I miss your touch..." She says in a voice barely above a whisper, yet one that you could hear in her now silent room where it felt like nothing else mattered other than the two of you. "Oh." You gulp, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as soon as she says those words.

Meanwhile, March wants to dig herself into a hole and die. She wasn't supposed to say that out loud, and you were much less supposed to blush! She's surprisingly oblivious for someone so observant when it comes to you, so she never even considered the possibility that you might return her feelings...

However, you best believe she'll be putting out all of the stops if there is a chance that you do, in fact, like her back.

"You don't want to? Fine..." She pouts, and your train of thought is broken once she looks up at you with those eyes that you've always loved, oh so needily... "No- no, I mean, yeah, I'd... love to cuddle with you." You splurt out, stumbling all over your words.

Which is how you ended up in this situation: her body pressed up against yours in a way that isn't appropriate for friends. She might be sick, sure, but she's almost fully healed and there's no way she'd be doing this unintentionally... right?

After a few seconds of contemplation, you decide to speak up. "We shouldn't be doing this, March." You say, your voice soft and barely loud enough for her to hear. "Mm..." She pays no heed to your words, instead opting to wrap her arms around you even tighter if that were even possible.

You gulp. She understands what you mean, right? Maybe you're just reading too much into her actions? Your mouth moves faster than your brain can, and you speak without realizing it. "You're driving me insane."

"...If I'm such a bad influence, maybe you should put me in my place."

She whispers with an almost seductive tone that you've never heard her use before, and you have to take a second to process if you really heard her say that. She knows what she's doing. Has she always been this bold, or is this how she usually gets with everyone every time she's sick? God, you hope that it's just with you.

You roll over to position yourself on top of her, your arms now on either side of her head as the mattress dips under the two of you. "Are you sure that you want this?" She giggles at your question, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck and pulling you into a soft, yet hungry kiss as if she'd been ready for this her whole life.

"Be gentle, okay?" She smiles once she finally pulls away, the room devoid of any other sound other than your heavy breathing and a silence that spoke volumes of the unresolved feelings you had for each other. "Just let me take care of you." You mutter as you leave a trail of soft kisses along her jaw and collarbones, your hand reaching out for the waistband of her pink pajamas. "May I?"

She nods in response, turning her head to the side in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks. "Pfft... You really are adorable." You mumble to yourself as you pull her pants along with her panties down to her knees. Your fingers find themselves teasing her entrance, rubbing slow circles over her clit and occasionally collecting her slick.

"Mmpfh... I'm fine, [Name]. You can put it in now." As if sensing your worries that you were trying hard not to show, she spoke up. Although you've imagined this scenario multiple times before, you can't help but feel nervous. You want to make sure that her first time is as soft and as pleasurable as it can be.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay? Just relax." You say softly, carefully curling your index finger into her cunt and giving her a few seconds to adjust before pumping in and out at a slow pace. The small moans and whimpers she lets out are even better than you'd imagined. "A-ah... That feels good..."

As if on instinct, her hand reaches out for your free one; an act much too intimate for friends, but you indulge her nonetheless. Besides, the two of you have long since done things that most people would deem past the border of a platonic relationship. When did the line between friends and lovers start to blur?

"I've got you, pretty girl. I'm not going anywhere." You coo at her, the gentleness of your voice much in contrast to the quickening pace of your fingers.

Her eyes are fluttered shut. Her hair is sticking to her forehead. Her mouth is ever so slightly parted in an "o" shape. Truly, she is beautiful in every sense of the word. Beautiful like this; beautiful always. "Do you think you can take another finger, March?"

She nods almost too eagerly at your question. You slow down, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as you slowly insert a second finger and stretch her out even more. "That's it. You're doing so good, taking me so well..."

After a while, she starts grinding on your fingers, and you take that as a sign to go faster and give her more. The second you start rubbing and pressing down on her clit, she can feel herself nearing her orgasm. She looks up at you with doe eyes and squeezes your hand, and that's all it takes for the feelings you've been repressing all this time to break loose.

"I love you."

Before you can process what you said amid the sea of emotions you're feeling and apologize, she pulls you in for a kiss. Unlike before, this kiss is more tender and warm than lustful, as if she was trying to say that she loved you too. As if she had been waiting for you to say those words her whole life.

You swallow her moans and whimpers as she comes undone around your fingers, finally pulling away after what feels like an eternity. You wish that kiss would last an eternity. Hell, if it were up to you, that moment wouldn't end even after the seas had dried and there were no stars left in the vast skies that she loved so much.

Heavily breathing, you collapse beside her. "Uhm," You break the silence, albeit a little hesitantly. "I'm going to get you some water, and help wash you up if that's fine?" You're far too ashamed to look her in the eye after what you said.

She embraces you in her arms, and it's the safest you've felt your whole life. "Just a little bit more..." She nuzzles her head into your neck, inhaling your scent and holding you just a bit closer.

"I love you too, you big dummy."

╰┈➤ taglist ; @nbdaddykink , @roninraccoon , @sinsmockingbird , @fvrina , @commandercarbs , @sapphic-simp4015 , @truculentbantam , @vrachis , @dukemira , @arbiteriey , @krowbyss , @the-night-owl-blr

#⁠honkai star rail smut #⁠honkai star rail #⁠honkai star rail x reader #⁠hsr smut #⁠hsr #⁠hsr x reader #・❥・strwb smut #march 7th #march 7th hsr #march 7th smut #march 7th x reader #smut #x reader

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elsfairy · 8 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ HOLD ME WHEN IT GETS TOO MUCH ─ 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓

Violet hasn’t been able to trust herself with anyone since coming back from Stillwater. She kept to herself, and only spoke to people when she really needed to, but other than that, she avoided any type of friendship and form of romance that she could. Simply to protect her feelings, emotions, vulnerability, and trust.

When she arrived home, it was different. Of course, everything was going to be different, she’s missed out on so many things over the years from being confined in a small space to looking at the same 4 walls for such a long period of time. She didn’t have that strive in her to find the people who knew what she looked like, what she sounded like, or who loved her. She wanted to seal herself off, not let anyone in and know her, the real her again.

What was the point of trying so hard to build up that relationship with someone when people would either hate you for ‘leaving’ or for completely falling off the face of the earth?

How would she gain the trust of those who cared & loved her again?

No one tried to search for her when she left, so why should she search for that little part of the care that was still there before she was gone?

It was simple, really. She couldn’t.

Vi felt like she didn’t deserve that second chance, because she pretty much became a ghost.

Until she spotted you the second she found herself cramming her way into the very crowded Last Drop.

To her, you were like a shining star. A star that couldn’t be brought down no matter how many rude customers you had to endure, or had to throw out. You were still fuckin’ smiling your way through your job. Had to break up a fight between two idiots arguing over something so pointless yet so big to them? She felt weak in the knees that you were still so polite and kind towards the two strangers. Wasn’t feeling the best? Vi envied how you pushed through without complaints. You were that light energy she didn’t even realize she was looking for until you had looked at her, waved her over and simply poured her a drink with a soft, gentle “on the house”

Simply & constantly believed that she didn’t think she deserved that second chance right?

You could see how.. disconnected she felt even though Zaun was is her home. Sure she would sit there and listen to you talk about what your day consisted of, and if anything exciting had happened but she wasn’t fully there. It was always like her body and brain weren’t even on the best terms because while she was there with you, it was like her soul had left and she was just.. a broken shell and had nothing going for her.

Over the weeks of getting to somewhat know the Violet you’ve heard about, you truly did realize how much she turned off at the mention of friends she once knew, or walked off at the mere mention of Powder. She didn’t wanna hear about how she let them down, nor did she want to relieve the pain she felt knowing she couldn’t protect them hard enough as so many would put it. Talking about it only made her feel shitter and want to crawl deeper into the dark pit she can never seem to fully crawl out from.

Realistically, it didn’t take her that long to open up to you, nor did it take her long to finally have her trust put into someone that she knew would keep it. Of course she was still skeptical if you were there to stay, but not having someone she could call for advice, or to just sit there and listen to her, drained her. Her social battery without being very social was killing her and to know she finally had you, someone she felt safe with to call somewhat home? That meant more to her than you’d ever know.

The time window was small, but big enough whenever she needed you. She needed you like butter needed bread. She needed you like paper needs glue. If you weren’t around, Violet would panic. Not because she felt harmed or scared of Zaun, but more or so was scared to be left alone with the thoughts only you knew about. The ones that slither in at random times of the day. Ones that crept up on her when she finally felt at peace for just a second. Your bright smile, those star shining eyes kept all of those horrendous thoughts spiralling through her mind, at a distance.

She may not have been around you for long periods of time, but she trusted you.

She might be scared to let you know of all the sacred stories she has to tell, but she believed you.

Violet believed you when you once on a cold night, whispered those 4 soft words; “I’m here for you”

That’s how one night she felt like she world was slowly closing in on her, she felt like breathing wasn’t an option because she simply couldn’t feel her heartbeat due to the feeling that all those thoughts, all the trauma, and the feeling of being alone, attacking her any given chance. Which is the same night she somehow turned up at your small apartment, drenched from the rain, teeth chattering as she just looked at you with those soft, big doe eyes, and eye bags that were darker than your usual cup of tea. It wasn’t until you heard how tired she sounded, that you could feel just how broken she felt.

“You’ve given me all this attention that I don’t think I deserve, you’ve helped me heal slowly and you’ve been there when I thought I lost everyone so I'm begging you, just for tonight… no talking, no thinking, can you just hold me instead? please i just need you to hold me.. because I’m scared I’m forgetting what being held felt like”

Right now she’s not okay, but as time goes on she will heal and you’ll be there every step of the way. Even if that means holding her every single night while she cries her heart out to you, and you’re there listening. She’ll knows she will be okay, with you by her side.

Her home.

#hi #vi x reader #vi x you #vi fluff #vi angst #vi arcane #vi fic #arcane violet #violet arcane

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delulu-with-wandanat · 4 months

Note

Hello my fave moot. 😘

Can i request a fic (the one we talked about) where Nat and Wanda had an intense make out shesh and something more 👀👀 . Then Wanda came out of the room with red lipstick all over her face, neck, chest, and thighs.. courtesy of Nat and Nat looked so smug. 🤭🤭🤭

Money, must be funny. In a rich girl's world.

A/n: Helloo my dearest moot! Of course you can, I put my own little twist and mixed your request with the prompt I made a little while ago. I hope you like it boo!

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings 18+: Smut, semi-public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, praise kink??, (Wanda receiving), (Natasha giving).

Summary: Natasha works at a beach club, and Wanda is the daughter of the owner. Let's just say, summer wasn't the only thing that's hot that day.

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

"Do you even know who my father is?!"

Fucking rich people...

So this is where she is now, working at some beach club serving entitled people who think they own the world just because they have money. And most of the time it's not even their money, it's their parents.

"I sincerely apologize, sir. However, I don't see your name on this list." Natasha responded calmly. These damn kids...

The young man scoffed, "You must be new here. I am Vision Stark, STARK. That name means NOTHING to you?!"

Natasha desperately wanted to say, 'Yes, the same way you meant nothing to your dad-'

But of course her job requires her to say, "I understand you're upset. Perhaps you may have written it under a different name?"

He laughs cockily and pulled out his phone, "You better start applying for another job."

Oh for fuck sake- As much as Natasha hated rich people, she knew how powerful money could be.

"No- Wait, please that won't be necessary-"

"Ugh, what now Vis?" A girl wearing a sun glasses appeared beside him with a bored look.

"I'm calling my father and getting this piss rat fired." Vision spatted while scrolling through his phone to find his father's number. Shit, he wasn't joking around-

The girl then took his phone rather hastily, "Will you stop being such a daddy's boy?" She sighed and turned to face Natasha. "What's the problem?"

"I uh- I don't see the name Vision Stark under the guest list."

The girl then turns face Vision, she's wearing a sunglasses but Natasha knew she was glaring at him. "How many times do I have to tell you that it's registered under MY name?" She then turned to face Natasha and took off her sunglasses in frustration.

Holyshit her eyes...

"I'm so sorry about him." Natasha almost didn't hear her, she was too entranced in those green orbs.

Her face is carved by the goddess Aphrodite herself...

"Try looking for the name, Wanda Maximoff." That was when Natasha snapped out of her thoughts. She quickly scanned the guest list for her name. Natasha had to skim through a few names as there were a lot of people on the guest list.

"Hello? She said Maximoff, are you fucking deaf??" I swear if this boy don't shut his mouth right now I-

"Will you shut up?! She's just doing her job." Wanda scolded him. Vision, like the little boy that he is, groans and crossed his arms.

Natasha speed up her process, not wanting to deal with this man child anymore. And finally, "Ah, yes. Wanda Maximoff. I'm so sorry for the hold up ma'am."

When Natasha looked up, Wanda was looking at her with a look that she couldn't quite pin. Her head was tilted a little bit and she was biting the inner parts of her cheeks slightly. "No worries." Wanda said with a faint smirk.

Natasha couldn't help but gazed at her a little bit more, it was only for a split second but she got pretty much everything. Wanda is absolutely fucking breathtaking-

But again the man child had to ruin it for her as he quickly dragged Wanda by the arm to enter the beach club, "Come on, Wands."

"Have a good time." Natasha said as she internally sighed in relief. She glanced back once more and caught Wanda's eyes who was also looking back at her. Wanda gave her an adorable little wave before turning her head back.

Natasha smiled to herself, summer was going to be good after all...

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

She often wonders, how the fuck does one able to own such a huge beach club? While simultanieously have a resort on the other side too.

Quicksilver Beach Club was one of the most famous beach clubs in the world. They'd held numerous events and had millions of people around the world fighting for a spot. In the same area, lies a very luxurious resort called, Scarlet's Resort.

Which if Natasha was being honest, sounded like some kinky luxurious hotel.

It didn't matter though, at least the pay is good. Well, she says that now after having her eyes set on a very gorgeous guest. Wanda Maximoff. God, what a beauty-

Natasha wasn't the type to normally fancy a rich girl. Number 1, they're way too high maintenance for her who practically lives off cup noodles. And 2, they're very VERY entitled. Just for those two reasons alone, Natasha tried to stay clear of those girls unless it was for a one night type of thing. But perhaps for Wanda she could make an exception.

Which is why she would often asked to switch stations with her sister, Yelena, so she could serve Wanda's table more often. Purposely standing somewhere near Wanda's line of sight, the moment they locked eyes Natasha would give her signature smirk. One that she knows would get girls to fold for her.

Though Wanda seems to be a hard egg to crack. Sure, she notices Natasha, but it never really went as far as small talks. Which to be honest, only made the red hair wanted her more. Perhaps Natasha was full of herself, but she knows Wanda wants her too.

Wanda just needs a little push off the edge. As Yelena would describe it, 'She looks at you like she wants to eat you.'

Wanda was bored, bored out of her fucking mind. To many this beach club is something impressive, something luxurious, but considering her father owned it she has been here countless times. Then again, pretty much nothing else impressed her, many would say money can't buy you happiness, which to some extent might be true. However, it does allow you to experience anything and everything.

So her question is, what's a girl that pretty much has everything gotta do to have some fun here?

Her friends are boring, the guy she's seeing is dull as fuck, at this point she's just floating in empty space... Albeit, a luxurious one, but empty nonetheless.

Thankfully she has this cute, breathtaking, sexy waitress to keep her company this time around...

"One Piña Colada." Wanda snapped her head to the source, fuck this girl and her sexy smirk.

"Oh, thank you, Natasha." Natasha tilted her head slightly.

"How did you know?" Wanda merely pointed to her name tag, Natasha realizes and let out a soft chuckle. "Right."

Wanda laid on her back once again while taking a sip of her drink. She was laying on one of the VIP sun bed with a standing umbrella shielding her from the hot sun. Most people just wanted to sit by the beach and enjoy the waves, the rest who were out in the suns were mostly surfers.

"So are you here everyday?" Wanda asked, trying to make small talks with an arguably bullshit question. She knows Natasha's schedule, being the daughter of the owner she obviously had access to it. Which is why she is always conveniently there during Natasha's work hours.

"No, I only work day shifts and will be having a day off tomorrow." Natasha responded. "Is this your first visit?"

Wanda thought for a second, the answer was, of course it isn't. But she liked the fact that Natasha didn't know who she is, who her father was. Perhaps that's why she was attracted to Natasha, well apart from her attractive look. "You could say that."

"Let me know if you need anything else." Natasha said before going back to her area, which conveniently is on Wanda's line of sight. She can't help but admire the curves of Natasha's body. The way her muscles flexed under light of the sun, the way her hips swayed when she walked. God it was as if Natasha was putting on a show on purpose.

Being one of the most lavish beach clubs in the world, they were highly selective of their staff. Even as a waitress, other than the fact you had to be good at your job, you also had to be attractive and fit. It wasn't written in the job description, obviously. However, simply by observing their staff, you can definitely tell there's on going theme.

It was no wonder they hired Natasha, I mean look at that woman. Honestly, she could be a model. Wanda questions why Natasha even bothers to continue to work here with that kind of face and body.

Wanda continues to enjoy the view, which was without a doubt, not the beach. Her eyes secretly follows the red haired waitress wherever she goes. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't the only one. Other guests had their eyes on this sexy waitress too, Wanda couldn't exactly blame them. But she wanted Natasha, and whatever Wanda Maximoff wanted, she would get it.

She had to be quick though, she knew it wasn't uncommon for a guest to hook up with a service worker. Especially if they're hot. So she did what she knew best.

Natasha's ear perked up the moment she heard a yelp from one of the guest, it was Wanda. She had accidently spilled her drink all over herself. Natasha rushed over to her with a napkin. "Sorry, I'm very clumsy."

"It's alright, ma'am." Wanda stood up from the sun bed, her white, VERY thin see-through material shirt drenched in cocktail. Natasha's eyes subtly glanced to her chest seeing the red bikini Wanda had underneath, before averting it to wiped the remaining substance on the bed. "Let me get you another drink."

"Oh that's not necessary. However, could you please escort me to the bathroom?" Wanda asked rather seductively.

Natasha straighten herself up and internally smirked. "Of course, let me get this drink to the bar and I will escort you."

Once she was done, they both walked to the bathroom with Natasha leading the way. If all went according to plan, it should be empty. It was 2 pm, Wanda knew not many people would be present as sunsets were the prime time. That and the fact that no one actually uses the changing room/bathroom. Perhaps that was a rich people thing? I mean why not just change in your hotel room-

"It's just right through here, Ms. Maximoff."

"Please, call me Wanda." She said while walking to their destination.

"Alright, Wanda." Eventually the hallway lead them to their destination, Natasha, like the excellent service worker she is. Opened the door for Wanda. "If you need any assistance let me know."

Wanda eyed her up and down, now that they were alone, she would make her move. "I might be in need of an assistance in... other terms."

"What would that entail?" Natasha asked teasingly with one eyebrow raised. Wanda bit her lip and took a step closer towards Natasha.

"Don't play dumb with me."

With one swift movement Wanda pulled Natasha in with her. They shut the door behind them and Wanda had Natasha pushed up against the wall.

"I've seen the way your eyes lingers at me."

"Don't think I haven't noticed yours either."

Wanda's eyes wandered down to Natasha plump lips, god she wanted to taste it since the first time she arrived here. Natasha noticed her gaze and leaned closer to Wanda. Her hand reached up to Wanda's chin, catching her attention. Natasha had a rather mischievous taunting smile on her face. And fuck she looks so sexy.

"You want a little taste, darling?"

Wanda let out the breath she was holding, she leaned down and kissed Natasha roughly on the lips. Earning a soft hum from the redhaired woman.

Their kiss was messy, lustful, the kind of kiss where you wasted no time and started having tongues involved already. Natasha gained dominance in their make out session, taking over by flipping their position and have Wanda pinned instead. Wanda had her arms wrapped around Natasha's neck pulling her even closer.

Natasha's hand that was initially on her waist moved down to grip Wanda's ass firmly, causing the taller one to groan. Natasha captured Wanda's bottom lip, their eyes locking onto one another, both slightly hazy from the heavy session. Natasha's releases her lips before husking out, "You're such a needy girl, causing some incident just to get my attention."

A small whine escaped Wanda's lips.

"Was this your plan all along?" Natasha taunted. Her hand reached up to tuck Wanda's hair behind her ear while simultaneously pushing her body closer to Wanda. "To get fucked in some public space?"

While Natasha says all of this, she left a trail of kisses on Wanda's jaw. She trailed further down to her neck, earning a loud gasp from Wanda. Once she found a sweet spot, Natasha bit on it, causing the brunette inhale sharply before letting out a sound that was music to her ear.

Natasha moved her thigh to press it firmly against Wanda's aching core. Considering she was only wearing a bikini, it was easy for Wanda to feel the friction. "O-oh god..." Wanda moaned out.

Natasha continues to bite and suck harshly against Wanda's neck, not caring if it'll bruise. Not when it caused Wanda to squirm against her, to roll her hips subconsciously just to pleasure herself further. Her hand reached up to Wanda's breast, palming it against her stained shirt. Wanda couldn't help but to dig her nails on Natasha's back.

"Fu-fuck, please. I need more..." Wanda voice's echoed through the empty room.

"Good to know a person such as yourself has manners. I love well mannered girls..." Natasha husked out the last part in her ears, causing Wanda to shiver. She was sure if Natasha wasn't holding her up right now she would've fall to the floor.

Wanda continues to grind against Natasha's thigh, and whined the moment she felt Natasha pulling it away. "No-" Yet her words died in her throat as Natasha switched her legs with her fingers instead. Letting those long slim fingers drag across her panties. Natasha smirked when her finger dragged over the wet spot.

"All that for me, baby?"

Wanda nodded frantically, her mind too clouded to form a coherent words. Natasha pushed on her clit slightly against her panties.

"Words, baby. Words."

“Yes!” Wanda moaned out loud.

“Good girl.” Her fingers then moved her panties out of the way to run her fingers over Wanda’s dripping slit.

“A- ah… Natasha-“

“God I love the way my name sounds coming out of those pretty lips.”

Natasha trailed her kisses down to the exposed skin on Wanda’s chest. Her finger still teasing on the lips of Wanda’s opening, caressing it ever so slowly, yet not making any move to put it in. This caused the taller one to whine in frustration.

“Tell me, what do you want me to do?” Natasha asked against her skin. Using her free hand to slowly unbutton her shirt.

“I- I need you inside me, please…”

Natasha hummed, hearing Wanda beg did numbers on Natasha. Her left hand then pulled down Wanda's bikini top, freeing the sensitive bud. Natasha captured it in her mouth, rolling her tongue and sucking her nipple gently. Her right hand still teasing Wanda's entrance, she could feel the way Wanda was getting wetter by the minute.

Judging from the way Wanda grips her hair, nails scratching her back, back arching to push Natasha further into her. And fuck, the way she begged.

"Please... Ngh- Please, stop teasing me."

Natasha smirked against her, she releases Wanda's nipple with a 'pop'. Trailing her mouth up to Wanda's ear to nibble her earlobe. "You sound so good, begging me like that."

All of the sudden, Natasha entered two finger inside Wanda. The taller woman gasped, eyes closed and mouth wide open in the shape of an 'O'. She wrapped her arms around Natasha for support, her right leg naturally did the same, giving Natasha more room to fuck her.

Natasha curled her fingers expertly, causing Wanda to roll her eyes to the back of her head. Natasha moved her lips to leave open mouthed kisses on her neck, noticing how much the brunette loved it. "Oh god, just like that-"

God Natasha loved how vocal Wanda is. The way her voice was dripping with lust, how desperate she is to be fucked. Natasha picked up the pace, and Wanda couldn't help but to move her hips in rhythm with her. Her loud moans echoing through the marble bathroom accompanied by the gushing sound of Natasha's finger going in and out of her wet cunt-

"SHH-" Natasha quickly shut Wanda's mouth with her free hand.

Wanda, still hazy from pleasure could only stare at her and whine against her hand. Natasha focused her mind.

Footsteps.

She quickly pulled out her finger, dragged Wanda into one of the empty toilet stalls and locked it. Well, stalls were probably not the right word, one thing for sure it provided them more privacy as there were no gaps for anyone to peek.

"You better keep quite for me pretty girl." Natasha said with a smirk.

"W- what?"

The door outside opened, and a few set of footsteps could be heard entering the lady's room. They were busy talking to one another, Wanda's mind was still too hazy to pick up any word they said. Not that she cared anyway, she just hope they would leave soon so-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Natasha who was now kneeling on the floor, tongue sticking out to lick her already dripping pussy. She didn't even realize Natasha had already pulled down her underwear. Natasha wasted no time in lapping up her folds, devouring her like a starved animal.

Wanda's hand flew up to cover her own mouth, her other hand gripped Natasha hair firmly. She couldn't decided whether she wanted to push Natasha's head away, or pull it even closer. Natasha fucked her with her tongue, her nose rubbing against Wanda's most sensitive nerve.

Fuck she was getting close-

Wanda was biting her own hand so much that it hurts. Her legs were giving up on her, the only thing holding her up was Natasha toned arms and the wall she was leaning against. She started to grind against Natasha's face, fuck she doesn't know how long she could hold it.

Natasha then pulled out her tongue out of her entrance, trailed it up to swirl around her sensitive nerve before eventually encircling her mouth on it giving it a gentle suck. A slight sound escaped her throat, but thankfully their audience was too pre occupied with the latest gossip to notice.

Natasha continued to suck on her clit like it was a lollipop. Wanda could come then and there, but she knew if she did she wouldn't be able to keep her voice down.

For fuck sake can't these girls just leave!

Her stomach was tensing trying to hold the knot that was threatening to snap any second. It seems like her prayers has been answered as they heard the group taking their leave. Once Wanda was sure they were alone again, she moved the hand that was once covering her mouth and let out the sounds she had been holding.

"OH FUCK-" She moaned out breathlessly, "I- I'm so close. Fuck, Natasha, please let me come."

The way Wanda said her name, the way she gripped her hair, the way Wanda used her other hand to play her own nipple to chase the height she desires caused Natasha to moan against her clit.

The knot inside Wanda finally snapped the moment she felt the vibration against her pussy. Her back arches, body trembling, head thrown back so suddenly that she might've hit her head against the wall and hurt herself. But fuck was it worth it....

Natasha made sure to lap her up thoroughly, body spasming occasionally as Wanda was very much still sensitive from her orgasm. Seems like Natasha was enjoying that reactions from her that Wanda had to whine and pushed Natasha's head away. The redhaired only let out a small chuckle before finally standing up on her feet.

Wanda wasted no time in pulling her into a kiss, she moaned savoring the taste of herself. After some time they pulled away, Wanda rested her forehead against Natasha's.

"That was..." Her words died in her throat as she still needed to recover.

"You did so well." Natasha said, giving Wanda a tiny kiss on her nose. Wanda laughs softly at that.

"I should keep you around more often."

"Well, you know where I work."

They pulled away, gazing into each other's eyes. Wanda could get lost in them, Natasha felt the same as well. Natasha gave her a loopsided smile. Damn, Wanda really wanted to keep her around.

"Let me take you out tonight?" Wanda asked shyly.

"Unfortunately I have plans, how about tomorrow?" Natasha said, tucking a hair behind Wanda's ear the moment she saw the brunette's adorable pout. "Beside, the big event is tonight."

Wanda rolled her eyes, "I was trying to find an excuse to escape that." Natasha laughs at that. Wanda was... something else. "Alright then, tomorrow."

"I should get back to my shift, I'll see you around." Natasha smirked, she quickly left the stall and out of the lady's room before Wanda could even ask for her number.

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

Wanda chased her out of the bathroom, but Natasha was already out of her sight. She cursed under her breath. For someone that size Natasha was sure as hell quick. Wanda walked back to her table to find it was now occupied by her friend, Agatha. She was sipping her drink when she noticed Wanda.

"Hey girl! I was wondering where you were-" Agatha suddenly stop her sentence, her eyes scanned Wanda up and down. Wanda tilted her head in confusion.

"What? What's wrong?"

Her friend then suddenly smirked. "No need for explanation."

"What are you talking about?"

Agatha then pulled out her phone and opened the camera app so Wanda could take a look of herself. Wanda eyes widens the moment she saw the state of herself. Lipstick marks were all over her jaw, neck and chest. To top it off there were hickeys on her neck too.

"Oh my god..."

"I assume it's that hot waitress standing right there?" Agatha pointed with her finger.

"How did you-"

"She gave me this complimentary drink because you 'spilled' yours." Agatha said while doing an air quote. "Other than that she left her phone number on this piece of paper underneath the drink."

Wanda groaned and quickly wiped off the marks and closed herself further with her shirt. Glaring at Natasha who had a smirk on her face, and gave her a subtle wink.

"I swear I'm going to make her pay."

I'm not very good with smut but I tried my best. Hope you like it!!!

174 notes · View notes

whatwouldsylwrite · 11 months

Text

At least I got you in my head (5)

(4)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: sexual themes (not with Abby), Vi from Arcane is here to make you feel better. You and Abby make decisions that rub the wrong way. Mention of reader having a complicated skin care routine that Abby doesn't understand. Also, the girl in the end is Kara Danvers from supergirl; she is never described/mentioned.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl @ninazenuk @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sunkissedbibi @couchgarbage @nil-eena @inlovewithelliewilliams @st4rluvrr @mai5mai @machetegirl109 @azelmawrites (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Yoon Jiwoo was a little scary, but you liked how reserved she was: she didn't ask you for anything, didn't try to get to know you deeply, just polite small talk and a few jokes. Instead of coffee she asked you to come and help her with dinner, and you agreed, fully understanding the implications.

The implication number one: your chin covered in her slick while she mewled above you and tugged on your hair.

The implication number two: you sprawled out on her bed, shaking after the second orgasm.

She was teasing you a lot, which wasn't something you necessarily liked in bed, but it suited her so you rolled with it (not like you had a choice, pinned under her).

Jiwoo kissed you goodbye and you went home at 1 am on Sunday, feeling a little better.

Like your world wasn't spinning around Abby, like you could start moving on and be happy while living with the best roommate you could wish for. There were other girls, available girls, and you didn't have to suffer. Were you available though? Well, not yet. But eventually your feelings would go away, you were sure of it.

When you came home you expected Abby to be asleep already - you told her you'd be late - but she was in the living room, playing Doom, frowning in concentration as she eviscerated her enemies. She looked good like this, in her grey sweats and muscle tee, her braid resting on her shoulder. Fuck, why were you like that? You just fucked someone, weren't you supposed to fantasise about Jiwoo right now and not drool over your roommate? Jiwoo had great arms too, and she was hot too, and she was the one to fuck you.

God you really were too deep in it if Abby in muscle tee was more exciting than literal orgasms.

You took a breath to calm yourself down and knocked on the door frame, careful not to scare Abby with your presence. She looked up and paused the game, taking her headphones off. She looked a little tired and you knew she wasn't supposed to be up this late.

"Hey. Why are you not in bed yet?" You sat next to her on the couch, your knee touching her thigh.

"Was waiting for you." Abby murmured and rubbed her neck. "I wanted to make sure you'd come home safe."

Fuck you and how caring you are, you thought desperately. Jiwoo also told you to text her when you'd be home, why weren't you thinking of this? Why weren't you texting her right now?

"Well, I am." You smiled a little. "You should go to sleep, Abby. You'll be grumpy in the morning."

"Yeah. Are you hungry? I made pasta."

"You can't do this to me, seriously." You said dramatically and let Abby guide you to the kitchen.

She heated up the food for you and made herself tea after you gave her shit for wanting to drink coffee at 1am.

"How was it?" Abby asked politely and you tensed.

"Great."

"Just great?" Abby laughed kindly.

"Yeah, well. Stress relief is stress relief." You chuckled, not really understanding why Abby was curious about your sex life.

It hurt a little, that while you hooked up with Jiwoo to get Abby out of your system, she was now trying to make small talk about it.

Abby must've noticed your reluctance, because her teasing grin fell.

"Sorry, I'm so used to Ellie waxing poetry about her hookups so for some reason I expected you to do that too." Abby smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, don't worry. I just don't kiss and tell, you know. Unless you want a crush course in lesbian sex." You winked, curious if you'd make her shy, and yeah, Abby's cheeks were just slightly pink.

"I mean, Ellie talks so much about girls I feel like I could give you a crush course."

You laughed: bantering with Abby was easy and familiar and you felt a bit better, and not in love at all. Just two gals being pals.

You were lying in your bed and you couldn't fall asleep as you were going back to this weekend. You felt like the whole hookup with Jiwoo was just some kind of revenge, a knee jerk reaction to Abby breaking your little air castles where you two were in love and happy together. You told Cait you wouldn't use other people to get over Abby, but even though the thing with Jiwoo was mutually beneficial, it didn't make you feel any better. Especially since it only gave you relief that lasted until you came home.

It was a bad idea to begin with and now you regretted it a little. The sex was great, and you had a lot of fun, but the motivation behind it made you question your choice. You had to deal with your hurt before you tried to weave other people into it.

It was Monday and you decided it was time for plan B: get distracted by getting another student. Work was good, work meant mind exercises and money. Usually you'd get recommended by your previous students, but sometimes your professors would ask you to help someone out, and today was the day when you got lucky.

Your professor caught you in the corridor while you were walking to your next class and you got scared at first - did you miss an assignment and were losing your points?

"I gave your number to one of my students, she is smart but she had to miss a lot of classes. She needs to pass the test at the end of November, can you help her?"

"Yeah, of course." You nodded politely.

"Thanks." Your professor patted you on the shoulder and hurried to her next class. God, she was always running like a headless chicken and you adored that chaotic energy in her. She was a very talented teacher, she asked for a lot, but she always gave second chances, so if this girl got her to let her improve her grade, then you'd do your best to help her.

Also, you thought as you watched the hottest fucking person walk through the doors of the library on Wednesday afternoon, you'd have to do your best and keep it in your pants.

She was built very similar to Abby, the same defined arms and wide shoulders, and she had tattoos. Her nose was pierced and even the bright pink hair looked organic.

Even the way she walked was hot - Abby was always commanding, and your new student (she was bee lining to your table) walked confidently, like she didn't fucking care and like she knew she was hot.

Oh this one wasn't straight. No straight girl had the same energy as her. No, this kind of confidence came from wanting to attract a different kind of attention, the attention straight girls didn't seek and didn't need.

You sat more straight in your seat as the girl came closer, and for some reason you expected her to be cocky, but she smiled at you and you melted.

"Hi. You are (y/n)?" You nodded and the girl sat next to you. "I'm Vi."

"Nice to meet you." You said, trying to play it cool. Not only she was hot as fuck, she also seemed sweet? "Prof said you need to pass the test?"

"Yeah. I need at least B on this, and I don't understand a thing." Vi chuckled. "I read at home, but it all sounds fucking insane."

You laughed.

"Which part? I bet it's Kant."

"More like cunt if you ask me." Vi mumbled and you laughed again.

"Okay. Let's start from the beginning and then Kant will make more sense later on. Are you going to have only western philosophy on your test or do we need to cover everything?"

"I think it's only western."

You put your professional face on and tried to ignore how hot Vi was as best as you could, but judging by her little knowing smirk she was fully aware of her affect on you - though you didn't really mind. She was hot and sweet and made you feel something else except fucking sadness and desperation.

Maybe you could get both distractions this time, you thought as Vi smiled at you and looked a little lower than what would be considered friendly.

This week Abby spent way too invested in talking to Owen. They texted regularly and Abby found herself checking her phone every five minutes. He excited her: Abby liked his attention and his jokes, and it didn't happen often to her. Boys were more annoying than enjoyable, so when she'd meet a guy who was actually cool she tried not to pass the opportunity.

And now when she was spending so much time on Owen she didn't get her weird panics around you anymore. Abby still enjoyed cuddling with you and talking to you, but now she felt safe to do that, when she had an outlet to deal with her loneliness. She could cuddle you and then go to Owen to get her healthy fix of sex and intimacy.

Not that Abby planned to, but knowing she had an escape made her feel more confident, as if she separated her affectionate side from her lonely horny side.

from: (y/n)

r u home?

can you meet me downstairs?

I need help

Abby locked her phone and went to the hallway to put her doc martens and a coat - the third week of October wasn't really warm. She quickly made her way downstairs, a little worried about what you needed help with.

You were standing in front of the stairs with two big plastic bags and Abby just stared at you.

"You okay?" She asked with doubt. Why did you buy two full bags of groceries? Why did you even go without her when it was her job to do all the heavy lifting in the house? "You should've called me."

"I didn't plan to go grocery shopping, I just wanted to buy the cookies, but I spiralled." You shrugged. "Can you help me carry them?"

Abby took all the bags, not letting you touch them at all even when you protested ("equal labour, come on" "you're hunched in your chair 24/7 you have the back of a grandma, chill"). You made light small talk while you went upstairs, Abby told you about her classes and how annoyed she was with some of them: she liked to bitch about stuff with you because you bitched right back without trying to cheer her up. You just understood Abby's need to vent.

Abby took her shoes off and went to the kitchen so she could start unloading the bags. You were still shuffling in the hallway when she opened the bag and stared into the inside.

"What the fuck?" Abby mumbled as she looked over the whole bag filled with her favourite protein bars.

By that point you came to the kitchen and had the audacity to look like you didn't understand why Abby was shocked.

"Oh, yeah. They were on sale."

Abby stared at you.

"So you bought the whole aisle?"

"You burn through them like they're made of oxygen, come on." You said, embarrassed, and Abby laughed.

"You're insane." Abby chuckled and came closer, holding your face in her warm hands so she could pepper your face with small kisses.

"Thanks." Kiss. "You're ridiculous." Kiss. "I l-"

Abby's words got stuck in her throat: she couldn't finish this sentence. She didn't know why, but it felt like she meant something way different from what it was supposed to mean between friends. It didn't seem like you've noticed, so Abby kissed your forehead and moved away, making herself pay attention to your pleased face instead of wallowing in her anxiety.

"Did you really get the whole aisle?"

"I took every pack they had, yes. It was on sale, pretty good deal if you ask me."

"Whatever you say mathematician." Abby chuckled and helped you put other groceries in their place.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling: you cared. You remembered small things about her the same way she remembered small things about you (she made sure to buy you your favourite cookies every time she was shopping), and it was so warming. She felt her heart grow with l-

Why couldn't she use this word for you? God, she thought she was over her stupid panic. It was okay to love her friends. It was okay.

Maybe she should hook up with Owen again.

Vi asked you to come to her place for your fourth lesson - she had training before and she would have been late for the lesson if she had to go to the library from there. You didn't mind so you put your books into your bag and went over to her place.

Vi told you she lived with her younger sister, and you saw the pictures around the apartment: it seemed like bright hair was a theme here.

Vi's room was a little bigger than yours, and was surprisingly aesthetic with decor. There were a lot of drawings ("my sister drew them") and her table was kinda cluttered, but she quickly freed some space so you could put your books somewhere.

Being in Vi's room made you tingle. It was obvious to both of you how attractive you found each other, and you couldn't shake the thought she invited you for a different reason with the amount of tension between the two of you.

You were sitting pretty close, her strong jean-clad thigh pressed against yours, but you tried to not pay attention to it and focus on the lesson. So far Vi's been an excellent student, not shy to ask you the same question as many times as she needed, getting to the bottom of it no matter what. Sometimes you had to change your usual explanation so Vi would understand, and putting your brains to work made you feel good.

"Okay, okay, I've got it. Fucking mental gymnastics." Vi sighed as she wrote her answer on a test sample. "Check."

You read her answer and smiled: it was perfect.

"Good job." Vi’s eyes lit up.

"I want a reward." Vi said and you chuckled before picking up your pen and writing a good job with a star on her paper.

"Good enough?" Vi chuckled at this and moved closer to you, putting her elbow on the table to support herself. "Something else?" You were teasing her, you knew, but you were so curious how it’d play out.

"Yeah, I have a better idea." She murmured as she moved her face closer to yours, waiting for you to give her green light. You smiled and moved closer, enjoying her wide eyes and a pleased smirk.

Vi kissed you and you lost your breath for a moment, shocked by how gentle and tentative she was. She was sweet, god she was sweet. If it wasn't for one stupid straight blonde in your life you could have fallen in love with Vi just from the way she kissed.

You moved away, feeling guilty: you didn't really know what Vi wanted from you, and she didn't deserve to be fucked over because you were an idiot who was in love with their roommate.

"Hey-hey. Wait a second."

"Did I misread the situation?" Vi asked, worried, searching your face for an answer.

"No. But I'd like to know what you want from this, so we could be on the same page."

"I just think you're hot."

"Nothing serious?"

"No?" Vi looked like she was scared she'd hurt your feelings with her words, but you only sighed in relief.

"Good. Because I think you're hot too." Vi smirked at this and kissed you again, holding your neck with her palm as she stroked your jaw with her thumb. "Is this why you asked me to come here today?"

"No." Vi laughed as she squeezed your hips and moved you to her lap, pressing you closer. God she was strong. "But now I think past me was a genius."

You chuckled and kissed her again, burying your fingers in her soft hair as she pushed her hands under your shirt. Vi sighed into your mouth and you smiled while your hips started to live their own life, grinding against Vi. You were stupidly turned on by how strong and sweet she was, so careful with how she touched you, as if you were not a one night stand but the love of her life.

"You're gentle." You commented when Vi carefully placed you on the bed.

"I get that a lot." Vi grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully. "Tell me what you want."

You smiled at that and tugged her shirt off, staring hungrily at her abs and tattoos. She looked like she could destroy you and put you back together and your stomach burned while your eyes went dark with desire.

"Fuck me.”

---

“You sure you don’t want to come?” You asked and Abby snapped out of watching you get ready in front of the mirror. Abby came to chill out in your room as you went through your wardrobe to find something that’d work for a Halloween party.

“I’m not feeling it.” What Abby actually meant: Owen was getting a little too aggressive with his attempts to ask her out and she didn’t want to run into him.

“Well, you know how they say, you just need to come and the mood will come too.”

“No, really, I just want to stay home today. But you have fun, you’ve been working the whole week, you need it.”

You’ve been coming home late the past few days, having more lessons than usual, and Abby felt bad for you. At least you seemed to be in a good mood most of the time, more relaxed and happy than the previous week, and Abby was glad the amount of work wasn’t taking a toll on you.

“Thanks, Abby.” You smiled in the mirror and Abby smiled back. She couldn’t look away from you, a little fascinated by your little rituals with all the skin care products you were using. Sometimes she asked you questions about especially weird things she saw in your hands, but otherwise she stayed quiet and just watched you.

Abby never really was a girly girl, with no desire to learn how to apply makeup or to wear skirts, and when she was a teenager a lot of people liked to tell her if she didn’t get more feminine she’d never find a boy, because boys liked everything she didn’t. And listen, she tried. She even learned how to use eye liner, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she felt like a clown, and she decided the potential boy in her life wasn’t worth trying to become someone she wasn’t. But even if Abby herself didn’t care about doing girly things, she liked watching other girls do their magic: how Ellie painted her nails black, how Nora did her hair, how you applied god knows how many creams/essences on your face. It was calming to her.

“So, what are you going for?” Abby nodded at the bunch of clothes on your bed.

“The laziest vampire on earth.” You sighed. “You know, all black, some sunglasses to look like an asshole. We still have cranberry juice, right? I’ll pretend it’s blood.”

“Wow, that’s bad.” Abby laughed.

“Well I can’t come in my usual clothes, that would be even worse. I’ll try to look like the lack of effort was a choice and you know what? I’ll look hot doing it.”

“You definitely will.” Not that Abby understood anything in women’s hotness, but hey. She met girls who made her head turn, so.. Listen, she didn’t know where she was going with this thought. All girls were pretty, okay. It was the universal truth, what was the point of thinking she didn’t know when women were hot, she wasn’t a blind idiot.

Abby walked you out of the door with a promise you’d call her if anything happens and a kiss on the forehead.

from: Owen

Are you out tonight?

Fuck, Abby thought. Fuck-fuck-fuck. If she’d say she was home he’d definitely ask to come over, and lying was pointless. Abby stared at her phone once more. But what if she’d want to hook up with him later? Fuck. This shit shouldn’t have been so complicated.

Well. She could lie in a different way.

to: Owen

sorry, I’ve got a fever so I stayed home

That was so stupid and hardly believable, but Abby didn’t want to deal with Owen right now. Or ever.

Thankfully he left her on read and Abby sighed in relief before going to the living room to finish the next level in Doom. It took her a few hours after she fell down to death a bunch of times, missing the right moment to jump from one stupid pillar to another. And the boss at the end of the level was pretty hard, so when she finally beat him it was close to 2:30 am.

Abby tidied the living room and then took a shower, her eyes hurt a little after staring at the screen for so long. She came back to her room and cautiously checked her notifications in fear Owen’d drunk-text her, but instead there was a text from you.

from: (y/n)

Im w a girl

Abby stilled as she read your text, her heart squeezing in pain that she didn’t understand. Was she jealous? But she just turned Owen down, so it couldn't be right. Abby shook her head as if it’d shake the thoughts out of her head and quickly got ready for bed - she hoped to fall asleep before you’d come home with a girl.

It seemed like the universe hated her that night, because when she felt she was finally falling asleep, relieved she wouldn’t hear you coming home, the front door clicked open.

Abby shut her eyes and tried not to listen to any sounds: to be fair, she didn’t hear anything until your bedroom’s door was shut. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in your bedroom, but then she heard it.

You were clearly trying to be quiet, but one of your whimpers was too loud. Abby’s ears rang and her heart started beating faster from anxiety. Despite herself her head got filled with pictures of some random girl touching you. Abby wanted to barf, wanted this girl out of your bedroom, wanted to fucking rip her arms off for making you sound like that.

Abby took a deep breath and sat on the bed, her ears tuned to your bedroom - it seemed like you noticed your mistake and got quieter, but Abby didn’t need you to make any more sounds to feel absolutely sick, her brain conveniently showing her how you were being fucked right now.

Abby huffed in disgust and stilled suddenly, noticing her emotions. She was disgusted? Fucking hell she was.

You were having sex next door and Abby was so disgusted and angry she wanted to break something. She felt guilty, because you didn't deserve this, you didn't do anything bad, but Abby couldn't shake her feelings and her unbearable fantasies off.

Abby took another deep breath and grabbed her headphones, determined to force herself into sleep, even if she couldn't breathe properly from her awful feelings.

And Abby would have to be nice in the morning, wouldn't she?

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

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peakyswritings · 4 months

Text

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VI

Summary: After the events of the previous day, Tommy and Nina are forced to come to terms with a truth they have refused to acknowledge for far too long.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of attempted assault, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: like in the last chapter, there are some dialogues which are supposed to be in Italian, which I chose to write in English for the sake of the readers (and mine, ‘cause otherwise I should’ve translated lots of stuff). In this case, it is the second dialogue between Nina and her mother. I’m sorry for the long wait, and thank you for bearing with me!

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

The first light of the morning filtered through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, bathing the room in a warm glow. Holding a cup of coffee in her hands, Nina stared into space, the events of the night before repeatedly playing in her mind. Tommy’s touch still lingered against her cheek, hesitant and tender as he touched her with a gentleness she had never known before. A gentleness that made her lean even closer, eager to feel more of the bare brushing of their lips, that made her wonder what it would feel like if she allowed herself to melt into him. His strong body seemed like a safe space, like something steady and reliable. But that warm, unfamiliar feeling was soon replaced by the blast of cold that suddenly hit her when he moved away.

How could she have been so stupid?

She had let her emotions get the best of her, and humiliated herself for nothing. It wasn’t him that she wanted. What she wanted was to get rid of the skin-crawling feeling that Stefano’s hands had left on her, so she had clung to the first person who had offered her a hint of safety and comfort. What a fool she had been, for forgetting that the only person who could ever bring her safety and comfort was herself. For letting Stefano mess her up once again. It was all a game of power to him, he had played her like a pawn, and she had fell for it. Because Stefano did what he did to let her know that he could do everything he wanted to her, if he just decided to. With the blood boiling in her veins, she promised to herself she wouldn’t let him hold that much power over her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cave. She’d go on as if nothing happened, but without forgetting what he did. And when the right time came, she’d make him regret ever daring to lay his filthy hands on her. He had tormented her for years, tried to force her into a marriage, scared and threatened her in her own home, a place where she was supposed to be safe. He would pay for that.

“Sei già sveglia?” (You’re up already?)

Her mother’s voice pulled Nina out of her thoughts, and only then did she realise how tight her hold around the cup’s handle had become. She loosened her grip, a sigh escaping her lips as the pain of her own nails digging in her palm eased. Sinking lower in her seat, she fixed her gaze upon a crack in the wooden table, well aware that she couldn’t escape Maria Ferrante’s ever-observant eye. “Sono andata a letto presto, ieri.” (I went to bed early, yesterday.)

The older woman walked further into the kitchen, squinting her eyes as if she had spotted something. Still carefully avoiding her gaze, Nina watched her get closer from under her lashes, until she stopped right in front of her. She let out a groan as her mother took ahold of her chin to get a better look at her face. “Che hai in faccia?” (What’s that?)

Nina gulped, her mind trying to find an excuse for the scratch that Stefano had left when he had dug his fingernails in her cheek. “È stato Winston,” she professed, turning her head to free herself from her mother’s grip. (It was Winston.)

The woman mumbled some curses towards the poor animal that, for once, was actually innocent.

“È stata colpa mia,” Nina quickly added. “L’ho fatto arrabbiare.” (It was my fault, I made him angry.)

Maria Ferrante pursed her lips in disapproval, and a frown appeared on those once beautiful features, which had started to wither way too soon under the weight of the years and of a life devoted to caring for others and never herself.

Nina had to restrain herself from breathing a sigh of relief when her mother walked over to the cupboard, letting the matter drop. But as she watched her bustling about to make breakfast for everyone, she was overwhelmed by a mounting sense of unease. It was a familiar feeling, one that had been accompanying her for as long as she could remember, yet she had never been able to figure it out. It usually rose without warning, making her head spin, sending her into a state of distress that made her feel physically sick, and she got the impression there was something deeply wrong with her life. After years of dealing with it, she had found a pattern, and she had realised that most of the times - although not always - it was connected to her mother.

All her life, Nina had feared to become like her. Always silent, always compliant as she let her husband and sons treat her like a slave, pretending not to notice the way they unconsciously looked down on her - because she was not clever, she was ignorant, she wasn’t even able to read or write. She was a wife and a mother before being a person. They loved her, but they loved her like something that belonged to them. And deep down, Nina knew she was loved the same way.

She knew the opinion they had of her was not that distant from the one they had of her mother. It didn’t matter that she had finished school, it didn’t matter how much she kept on studying and learning on her own, it didn’t matter how much she tried to prove that she was capable. She was always a woman. That limitation was the wall the stood between her and the world, and the more she tried to climb over it or walk around it, the taller and wider it grew.

To some extent, in her family, Nina was already her mother.

Standing in front of the mirror in the room that had become his in the last couple of weeks, Tommy straightened his tie, his gaze scanning his whole figure to make sure nothing was out of place. His face was freshly shaved, his suit neatly pressed, his shoes polished. The only jarring note were the purple shadows under his eyes, proof of a sleepless night. Ever since he had left Nina’s room, he had been tormented by a strange feeling of restlessness. He had hardly closed his eyes, his mind relentlessly circling around everything that had been happening in the last month, and everything that was to come. But in that endless vortex, one thought emerged above all others. How was she?

The question nagged at him, making it impossible for him to shift his attention on any other subject. From the moment he had met her, Nina had seemed to him an unbreakable force. She was fierce, and untamable, with a fire in her eyes mighty enough to burn whole cities to the ground. That was why, when he witnessed her vulnerability, he was almost surprised to see that she, too, could be fragile. But with that fragility came a whole different wilfulness, a stubborn refusal to bend that made her even more ardent. More beautiful. And he wondered how many more sides of herself she kept hidden.

Almost a month had passed since his arrival in Sicily, and during time, she had slowly made her way into his head, clouding his judgment. Because he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her, not when he was courting her cousin. Not when the decision had been made. But the events of that day had put him in front of a truth he had refused to acknowledge, a truth that made him feel something too close to fear.

Last last night more than ever, he couldn’t take his mind off her, off her scent, off the feeling of her soft hair brushing against his skin. Did she have any idea how hard it had been for him to pull away? That he had only left her room because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself any longer? That, had she been in a less vulnerable position, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do what every cell in his body was begging him to do?

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself. There was no need to make things more difficult than they already were. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, revealing the velvety box that had been closed there for far too long. He reached for it and opened it to take a look at the ring he had bought along the necklace he had gifted Agnese a few weeks earlier, when he had declared his intention to marry her. The big diamond ring seemed to stare back at him, and his stomach clenched at the thought that it was time to do what he was expected to do. He snapped the box shut and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, telling himself there was no point in dwelling on things that had no chance to exist.

As he headed downstairs, the sound of Nina’s voice came to his ears, and his nerves started tingling with anticipation. How would she act, now? How was he supposed to act? Should he ask her how she was, or should he pretend nothing had happened, just like she told him?

He could tell there was a whole story behind what had happened with Stefano the previous day, one that he wasn’t aware of, and part of him wanted to ask her. The other part, however, feared that she might close off again, and that all the steps forward that they had taken would be erased, taking them back where they started.

Before Tommy could cross the living room, Nina came out of the kitchen, too lost in thought to notice him, at first. But once she did, she stopped in her tracks, and an unreadable expression spread over her features. For the next few seconds, they just looked at each other in complete silence, waiting for the other to say something. The small scratch on her face caught his eye, suddenly taking him back to last night, when he had ran his knuckle over it with a softness he didn’t know he possessed, when he had got the impression that her cheek had been made just to fit perfectly in the palm of his rough hand. How close she had been…

“Good morning.” Nina’s voice harshly brought him back to reality, and it was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.

Tommy cleared his voice, struck by an odd feeling of guilt for indulging further in those thoughts. “Morning,” he murmured, recollecting himself. He had to remember where he was, and where his priorities stood. But it was so hard when the warmth of her body so close to his was imprinted on him, and when he could still feel the way her lips had barely brushed against his.

“I’m having lunch at Agnese’s house today,” he blurted out before he could think about what he was saying. And maybe his words had some kind of effect on her, but she was so quick to hide it that he figured he had probably imagined it.

Nina nodded, hoping that whatever she was feeling in that moment wasn’t written all over her face. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she was feeling, she just knew that she didn’t like it. And that it wasn’t right.

Tommy was going to propose.

That awareness knocked the air out of her lungs, and she cursed herself for feeling like that. It was wrong. And she had no right. She had to get a grip and take control of those emotions, before they irreversibly took control of her. Tommy’s icy stare seemed to be piercing right through her, making it impossible for her to focus and formulate some coherent sentence. Fucking blue eyes.

“Good,” it was all she could manage to utter.

Another heavy silence fell down upon them, and the words they really wanted to say - the words they didn’t even have the courage to tell themselves - were left hanging in the air, where they would vanish, sooner or later. Because the things left unsaid would never be real.

In the late afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table, Nina tried to keep herself busy by reading a book, but the words seemed to vanish right in front of her eyes one by one. She was too agitated to read. According to what her brothers had told her before leaving the house earlier that day, the men of the family were currently holding a meeting Tommy Shelby at Agnese’s house. They had mentioned something about Sabini and the next moves, but she had only half-listened to them, her mind occupied by something else entirely. Looking out the window, she glanced at the house on the opposite side of the shared garden, the urge to know what was happening inside it growing with each moment that passed.

“He hasn’t proposed.” Maria Ferrante stormed into the kitchen, carrying a basket full of freshly-picked figs.

Nina blinked, her train of thoughts interrupted by her mother for the second time that day. “What?”

“Mr Shelby hasn’t proposed to Agnese,” she clarified, placing the basket on the table with a thud. Under her daughter’s disconcerted stare, she took some of the figs and walked over to the sink to wash them with hasty, agitated movements. “The poor girl’s desperate, she thinks she has done something wrong.”

It took Nina more than a moment to process her mother’s words, but once she did, it took her way less to realise what that might mean. For her, for Agnese, for the future of her family. As her mind began to race in an all too familiar way, her eyes quickly scanned the room in search for something to focus on in order not to slip into the whirlpool of scattered thoughts, but the clatter caused by the older woman’s fumbling with the cutlery only added to the frenzied state of her brain. Her heart pounded in her chest, drumming in her ears, and she found herself jiggling her leg up and down to ease the tension. Finally, her attention was grabbed by the clock hanging on the wall, and in the second hand her restless gaze found something to hold on to. With each second that passed, her heart decreased its speed and the noise in her mind quietened, bringing her some relief. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a breath, glad to be back in control of herself. “This whole thing was a mistake,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Even though she was facing away from her mother, Nina could tell she had halted, because the fuss suddenly stopped. “What do you mean?” She asked, but before her daughter had the chance to answer, she placed a plate with some figs cut in half in front of her. “Eat.”

At first, Nina scrunched her nose, sure that the mere sight of food would be enough make her stomach turn. Ever since the events of the previous day, it had been too knotted up for her to feel hungry. However, as soon as the delicious smell of the fruits filled her nostrils her appetite awoke, and she was quick to take a bite. The sweet pulp melted on her tongue, and the sensation almost made her forget what she was about to say. “I mean,” she spoke again after eating the first piece. “That it isn’t the Shelbys we should’ve tried to form an alliance with.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot upwards, and a disapproving expression made its way on her face. “These things are not our concern,” she reproachfully pointed a finger at her daughter, sitting on a chair in front of her. “Your father and your uncles are doing-”

“They’re doing all the wrong things.” Nina interrupted her, slightly raising her voice. “And it is our concern. It’s our life, we should have a say in it.”

“Your father knows what’s best for this family.”

“Does he?”

Maria Ferrante crossed her arms over her chest, averting her eyes from her daughter’s, and the silence that followed gave Nina the chance to go on. “This was a mistake, you know it too,” she added, lowering her voice again. “You might fool dad by pretending you know nothing about this business, but you can’t fool me.”

A strange glimpse crossed her mother’s eyes at her words, but it didn’t last more than an instant. Her features hardened again, and it was like that subtle, ephemeral emotion had never been there. “What I think is not important.”

This time, it was Nina who chose not to reply. It was useless, after all. Her mother had spent her whole life convinced that all she was born to do was to take care of someone else, without ever being able to make a single decision for herself, or voice her thoughts, and that conviction was too deeply rooted inside her to be eradicated.

“You’re a lucky girl, Nina. You shouldn’t forget that.” Maria leaned over the table, looking her daughter right in the eyes. “Take a look around you. You have a big, nice house with a big, nice garden, and a room you can call your own. You have never known misery, nor hunger,” she paused, her gaze becoming absent, as if getting lost in some old memory. She then leaned back in her chair, staring at a point in front of her. “It feels like bites. Hunger, I mean.”

Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, letting those words sink in. Although her mother’s stark expression gave nothing away, she sensed that some old, unforgotten pain was begging to be acknowledged, and she could almost feel that pain as if it were her own.

Coming back to her senses, Maria fixed her eyes on her daughter again, her gaze displaying a fierceness that appeared almost odd on her face. “You don’t know it. You haven’t even known it during the war. That’s all thanks to your father, and what he does.”

Nina watched quietly as mother got up from her chair, starting to busy herself with what needed tidying up. “He does what he does for us. Be grateful, and don’t question his decisions.” Her voice took on a stern tone, one that brooked no arguments, indicating that the discussion was over. “And eat,” she ordered, nodding toward the plate.

Pouring the tea she had just made in a cup, Nina glanced at the clock. Midnight had passed a long time ago, but once again her brain was keeping her up, preventing her from getting some much needed sleep. She’d had lots of time to think, though, and the long, relaxing bath she had taken had helped her free her mind for a while. She could see things more clearly, now.

Her first fear had been that Tommy might decide to go on with the war, but after pondering the subject, she had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t an option. He had proposed an alliance because he knew he had no chance of winning that war, the attacks to his pubs and his men were the proof. Not to mention that if he were to decide to call everything off he would be killed on the spot. The Peaky Blinder Devil was surrounded by potential enemies, with not a single man by his side, and he had willingly put himself in that position.

Because he was not afraid to die.

That was the answer to all of her questions, the missing piece that had prevented her from fully understanding why her family feared him so much, to the point of not even considering to form an alliance with Sabini instead. Tommy Shelby was not afraid to die, therefore, he had no limitations.

But the more she seemed to be close to figuring him out, the more questions rose, and Nina couldn’t explain why - despite all her efforts not to think about him - her mind was so adamant on trying to unravel the mystery that was Tommy Shelby. She had started because she didn’t trust him, because she wanted to know what his true intentions were, because she wanted to try and anticipate his moves - something that the men of her family seemed to fail at. Now she just couldn’t stop, for what she had found was so far from what she had expected.

She couldn’t explain the deep connection she felt to him, a connection that perhaps had always been there, since the very beginning, when all she seemed to feel for him was spite. Even then, there was something drawing them towards one another, forcing them to keep on bickering and bantering, to look for those apparently insignificant quarrels and challenges. Then there were their secret meetings, those nights where time seemed to stand still, where he wasn’t Tommy Shelby, and she wasn’t Nina Ferrante, and they were almost normal people, and they were allowed to let their masks fall. She remembered every laugh he had drawn from of her with the stories of his childhood, every smile she had managed to coax out of him with her witty retorts. And she had learned he was not a Devil, like everybody called him. Behind his steely glare and the layers of ice that protected him like an armour, he was very much human.

There must’ve been a reason why every night since the first casual encounter they had left their rooms in the hope of just enjoying each other’s company. There must’ve been a reason why their eyes begged to meet every time they were in the same room, and their hands longed for the slightest touch. There must’ve been a reason why she was standing there, hoping he would walk through that door.

But that reason didn’t matter. Because in the light of the day, he was Tommy Shelby, she was Nina Ferrante, and he would marry her cousin. Soon he would go back to Birmingham, and she would stay there, going back to the life she had grown to despise. The seas between them would erase the invisible string that seemed to bind them together, and she would forget how he had made her laugh, how she had made him smile. And it would be as if her soul had never met his.

Nina’s heart increased its speed when she heard the footsteps that had become now familiar to her, and she had to remind herself that night wouldn’t be like the others. She had to push him away, restore the distance between them before it was too late. If they crossed that line, there would be no going back.

Silently, Tommy entered the kitchen. All the spontaneity their relationship had acquired over the weeks was gone, and he was unsure how to behave. He didn’t even know what had brought him there again, after he had told himself he had to stop thinking about her. Maybe the same thing that had kept him from proposing to Agnese.

Nina was standing near the table, pouring her usual awful amount of honey in her steaming cup of tea. Leaning against the doorframe, Tommy allowed himself a moment to admire the way the white cotton of her nightgown brought out her tan skin and dark hair. She seemed off guard, but he knew she was aware of his presence. Once she was done, she gazed at him, and her fiery eyes shone in the dim light, pinning him right where he stood.

“I was thirsty,” he explained after a moment of hesitation, walking further into the room.

Without saying a word, Nina took a glass from one of the cabinets and poured water in it. When she handed it to him, her fingers brushed against his, and shivers of electricity raced across his skin. With the proximity, he was engulfed by the scent of lavender and honey that had been plaguing him in his sleep, making him long for something he could never have.

He would never feel anything like that with Agnese.

Nina took a few steps back, breaking the bubble that formed every time they were close to each other. Tommy tightened his grip around the glass for a second, then placed it on the table. He didn’t need to pretend it hadn’t been just an excuse to see her. He searched for something to say, but Nina beat him to it, and what she said next felt like a stab through his chest.

“You should propose to Agnese.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was cold, distant, almost like the day they had met. Taken aback by her sudden statement, Tommy blinked, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“You’ve been courting her long enough,” she said bitterly.

Nina’s words aroused a certain anger in Tommy, the same anger he felt every time he sensed that his hand was being forced. But it wasn’t just anger, there was something else with that. “It’s not your place to decide-”

“It is my fucking place,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. “This is my family. And the more we wait, the more we give Sabini the time to act against us.”

Tommy’s expression changed, and all the annoyance she had read moments before on his face gave way to something else. He raised his eyebrows in a mocking way, taking a look around before shifting his gaze on her again. “So you’ve finally admitted it,” he he said, and the shadow of a smug smirk appeared on his face.

“Admitted what?” She seethed.

“That your family needs my family.”

Nina snorted, fighting the urge to slap the smugness out of his face. Even in a serious situation, he couldn’t resist looking for a way to get under her skin.

“That’s not the point,” she argued, averting her eyes from his. “The point is - it’s time to get this over with.” The more she spoke, the harder it became to keep her voice steady, but she did it nonetheless, attempting to sound as convincing as she could. Maybe she’d end up convincing herself as well. “And this…thing that we’re doing,” she paused, the words burning in her throat as she uttered them. “It has to stop.”

Something flashed across Tommy’s features, and Nina instantly regretted addressing the topic. A strange tension fell into the room as his face became serious again.

“This thing,” he emphasised, as if pondering her words. The way his deep voice echoed in the silence of the room awakened something inside her, and heat crept up cheeks. “Tell me,” he squinted his eyes, starting to walk in her direction with slow, measured steps. “What is it that we’re doing?”

The breath hitched in her throat, but Nina stood still in her place, forcing herself to bear his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, nodding to himself. He took another step forward, looking down at her with a hint of challenge in his eyes, almost daring her to deny what was right in front of them one more time. She was now trapped between his body and the table, and the closeness alone was enough to make his nerves tingle.

“Tommy, please,” she whispered.

God, had she ever called him by his name before? The way it rolled off her lips, along with her intoxicating scent and the feeling of her warm body - too close to ignore it but still too far away to feel it completely - threatened to destroy the last shred of his self-control. It was hanging by a thread, a thread that was about to snap at any given moment.

He tucked an unruly strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, then his large hand travelled down the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against the delicate skin of her throat. She quivered almost imperceptibly, and her eyes lit up in a way that ignited his whole being. And the thread did snap. His hand went to grab the nape of her neck, and he crashed his lips against hers in a desperate, almost harsh kiss.

But it didn’t take Tommy more than a few seconds to regain control of his instincts. He pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath as he was hit by the realisation of what he had just done. His jaw twitched when his gaze met Nina’s wide eyes, and an overwhelming sense of guilt - way more powerful than the one he had felt that morning - started to weigh on his conscience. Then, as if the contact of their skin had burned him, he let his hand fall and took a step back. He tried to utter an apology, but no sound came out of his mouth. For an amount of time that seemed to stretch into eternity, neither of them did anything, and the possibility of having scared her only added to Tommy’s feeling of guilt. But a second glance was enough to realise it wasn’t fear that was painted on Nina’s face. Before he had the chance to say something, she closed the distance between them, grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. After the initial surprise, he was quick to wrap his arms around her, bringing her closer, eager to feel every inch of her body pressing against him. Her soft mouth moved against his tenderly, with a bit of hesitation that made his head spin. Their tongues danced together as he took control of the kiss, and he felt like he could melt right there in her arms. And as much as he wanted to restrain himself, to handle her more delicately, he couldn’t. He had waited far too long.

Tommy’s scent invaded Nina’s nostrils, clouding her senses, and she feared her knees might give out as he kissed her like a man starved. It was passionate, sensual, and lit a fire inside her she had never felt before. And despite everything, it felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right like the feeling of his strong frame against her.

But it wasn’t right. In a moment of clarity, Nina reluctantly broke their kiss, her lips still brushing against Tommy’s. Catching her breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quieten the turmoil inside for her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

With great gentleness, Tommy grabbed her chin, raising her face so that she would look at him. “I’m not.”

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring

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Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic

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1d1195 · 5 months

Text

Love and Dryer Sheets VI

Read the rest here: Love and Dryer Sheets

For those that have been kind enough to continue supporting this crazy mixed up story, thank you so, SO much. I hope you like this last part.

~4.7k words

I know I say this a lot but this is a bit all over the place. The timing might not make sense but I don't think it matters (if that makes sense). I wanted to showcase a lot of time passing and hopefully it will translate.

“I think it makes sense with you too, munchkin,” she whispered.

“C’mon,” she stepped aside so Harry could enter. He moved slowly and slugged his way over to the sofa. He looked at her paused TV screen and released a tired, quiet chuckle. She smirked to herself. “Do you want me to start it over?” She asked.

He nodded sullenly. His eyes were redder than she had ever seen. There had been so many times he had come to that laundry room, red-eyed from rubbing them over and over. She could only imagine the argument that took place. Or maybe ‘argument’ was the wrong word. What do you call that? The final show? That sounded so terrible. Harry’s sweet face was all blotchy. She can’t imagine all the tears he shed because if she was in the same room she would have sobbed. Poor Harry. Even the tip of his nose was red. He needed a warm compress; her mom always got her one after a bad heartbreak or when she was crying herself silly over a broken toy when she was little or for one reason or another.

She pressed a few buttons on the remote as he sat beside her on the sofa. Carefully, she draped a blanket over him and gave his arm a gentle, comforting rub.

He sniffled—trying to do so discreetly. It felt like a stab to her heart that she couldn’t imagine feeling for anyone else. Not even Niall. (Although she imagined if someone hurt Niall, she would probably be the one doing the stabbing). “I’m sorry, munchkin,” she whispered softly. All she wanted was to take away his pain. Just like the patients she helped every day.

It was no use denying anymore that Harry meant something to her. There was time to figure that out. They were still friends right now. She was a good friend. She was good at comforting people when they were sad. This was...easy for her to do. She could make him feel a little better.

He nodded and tried to look away from her to hide the sadness and sniffles from her. She pretended not to notice.

Kiss him! The voice in her heart shouted.

You’re an idiot. The voice in her brain would have rolled its eyes if it could.

“C’mere,” she encouraged and nudged Harry to lay with his head in her lap. It probably wasn’t comfortable in the slightest. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Harry was feeling the first bouts of relief in hours as she threaded her fingers through his hair and rubbed her fingertips gently on his scalp.

I could get used to this. The voice in Harry’s heart sounded almost tired. It probably was. The whole final fight with Ava was so draining. It was a wonder Harry could keep his eyes open. But he had been aching and dreaming to watch this movie with her for so very long that he wasn’t going to fall asleep now. This wasn’t what he wanted. Not in the slightest. She deserved an easy relationship. Especially after a three-year long crazy relationship that hurt her more than he could ever imagine.

Harry was going to need time. She knew that. Of course, he would. Because of the relationship she had and the way she watched her parents... It felt like Harry knew the very heartache she always felt. The little bothersome part of her mind that worried about love all the time. Harry was feeling it firsthand. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone... not even Ava.

But that just meant she knew how to support him and be there for him as best as humanly possible.

“Someplace where there isn’t any trouble...Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto?”

Harry wondered the same as Dorothy. Was there such a place?

Part of him thought it might be right on this couch.

Or maybe it wasn’t a place at all and just the sweet girl beside him.

“Thank you for driving me,” she said sweetly.

“Course, kitten,” he smirked. “I’ll keep an eye on all your plants,” he promised.

Harry was carrying her carry-on duffle bag and pulling her suitcase even though she insisted that she didn’t need it. In fact, she thought Harry might just drop her off at the entrance and drive away. But he wanted to walk her in. Wanted to see her off properly.

She couldn’t help but want that too.

They didn’t hold hands, but she really wanted to. She wasn’t going to kiss him. As much as she wanted to do that, too. They were moving slowly. Really slow. It was the right thing to do. They were good at being friends and they didn’t want to mess anything up. Especially after the rocky couple of months they both had.

She was going to visit Niall. The first time she had seen him in since his move approaching almost four months ago. The last time they had been apart for that long was when they were in college and Niall did a semester abroad. Harry was kind enough to drive her to the airport. “Not t’sound...crazy. But y’not going t’suddenly hate me jus’ because Niall’s going t’hate m’guts, right?” He asked.

He knew she would tell Niall. Part of him wanted her to tell Niall. It wouldn’t feel right to be friends or anything without him knowing.

“I don’t think he’s going to hate your guts,” she shrugged.

“I kissed y’when I shouldn’t have, Sunshine. Made y’cry. Pretty sure if I were Niall, I’d kill me,” he smiled knowingly.

“I don’t think he’s going to be happy,” she sighed. “But...” she bit her lip. “This is maybe a little indelicate, but... Niall said all kinds of nice things on your behalf without knowing the other stuff. When he overheard the egg thing, he asked if you were actually dating “the Wicked Witch of the West,”” she looked at him awkwardly.

Harry released out a loud burst of laughter. Shaking his head, he smiled. “Well, maybe s’hope for me yet.”

She was also hoping Niall would feel the same way about him. Once they reached security, she took her belongings from Harry and gave him a gentle smile. He grinned back, stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at her shyly. “I’ll... miss you, kitten,” he sighed, his face contorting into a half grin, a half frown.

For the last week they had spent most of their evenings together—eating dinner and watching movies. They even ventured out to run errands. Ava was long gone. In the first couple days Ava and Harry spent yelling, crying, and packing her stuff up so she could leave him. It was sad but cathartic in a lot of ways.

Ava was already in another town with the guy she had been seeing behind Harry’s back. No one batted an eyelash at Harry’s heartache. They called Ava brave for finding happiness after so long. No one cared to inquire about how the breakup went down. But, that was okay. The people closest to Harry knew what happened. Those that sided with Ava, well, good luck to them. Ava had a way of breaking hearts without any warning.

Besides, Harry had the sweet girl about to board a plane to worry about. “I think I’ll miss you most of all,” she smiled sweetly.

Having seen the Wizard of Oz no less than three times over the last week or so, Harry thought his heart would explode at her sweet quote. “Yeah?”

She frowned. “You won’t miss me?”

“No!” he grabbed her hand quickly forgoing all rational thought for a moment. What a difference a few months could make that hand holding was the worst thing he could do. “No, of course,” he shook his head. “Honestly, kitten, m’not sure how m’going t’make it a week without you,” he laughed awkward rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. “S’going t’be very boring,” he brought her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

She smiled, her cheeks turning pink at the gentle touch of his mouth on her skin. “You sure you don’t mind picking me up really late at night either?” She asked.

He shook his head immediately. “No, not at all. Probably be sad and worried if I didn’t get t’see you when y’come back right away,” he nodded.

He still hadn’t let go of her hand. Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him! The little voice in her heart was shouting.

We’re not doing that yet. It wasn’t even her little conscience talking. It was entirely her own thought.

“Thank you,” she sighed gratefully. They stood a moment, hand in hand. Gazing at each other. Neither moved for several moments. “I guess... I better go,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he smiled sadly and released her hand. “See you soon, Sunshine.”

With a small wave she backed away and turned to leave. Harry already liked her so much. Letting her go for even a week felt like his heart was already breaking. And he knew she was going to be back. He would have to talk to Gemma and see if this was normal or okay if—

“Harry!” She shouted. Spinning around, Harry turned back to see her almost back to him now, running quickly as she dropped her bag and threw her arms around his neck. Harry’s arms instinctively wrapped around her waist while she nuzzled her face into the curve of where his neck and shoulder met. She sighed deeply and Harry had never felt so much adoration for her—or maybe anyone—in his whole life. He kissed the side of her head and inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo.

Harry really never wanted to let go.

Niall was pacing. She figured it was best to get it all out in the open right away. Since she was still feeling her own time zone, it was easy for her to be awake and tell him. She warned him that he had to wait until he heard everything. All of it. Every last horrible detail. He was told it wasn’t going to be pretty and he would probably get mad.

Niall thought he was going to be tired after picking her up so late at night, but he was wrong. Fueled by anger and frustration was wonders for him to listen and pace the entire time she spoke. When he heard how she cried about the kiss, he nearly tore his hair out. He stopped pacing when he heard the egg story again.

But at the end he stopped pacing and sat down as he listened to how heartbreakingly mean Ava was to Harry in their final argument. “Jesus,” he said finally. After she finished her heartbreaking tale.

“You can’t hate him,” her tone was firm.

“I hate him for kissing you when he was with someone.”

“That’s...” she sighed. “That’s fair. But I think you hate what he did, not him.”

Niall frowned and rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re sure you want to date him?”

“Well...not right now...but yeah...I mean...” she shrugged. “The Wizard of Oz, Niall. Am I just supposed to ignore that?”

“I gotta be your best friend for a second,” he said. A grim, serious look took over his features. She nodded. “How do you know he won’t... kiss someone else when you guys have arguments and stuff?” He asked.

It was a fair question and there was a pang of sadness that coursed through her heart and body. “I don’t,” she murmured. “But... I wouldn’t know that about any relationship I have.”

Niall nodded. “I can’t see you hurt like the last time,” he told her. “I won’t do it again. I’ll kick and scream and make your relationship miserable.”

“Honestly, I think Harry would appreciate that. You’ll really like him,” she promised. “He drove me to the airport and walked me in and...” she smiled. “He’s really nice Niall.”

“How long are you guys going to wait?”

“Until...it seems right.”

“Are you okay with that?”

She nodded. “We’re good at being friends. But it’s...complicated. Or complex, whatever you want to call it. We want to do it right and... I want to tell him more about my last relationship... and my parents. I want him to know that I won’t be such a walk in the park.”

“Yeah, you do have a lot of lions and tigers and bears on your yellow brick road,” Niall said knowingly.

“You’re an ass,” she rolled her eyes.

“I will love him if you want me to,” Niall said softly. “But if he puts even one little crack in your heart, I’m killing him.”

“I think he’ll agree to that,” she nodded. “You don’t think I’m stupid?”

“The heart wants, what the heart wants, princess. Harry’s a good guy, I think. It’s not his fault he dated a wicked witch... think he needs a good witch in his life,” he smiled. “May as well be you.”

Niall, once he had the proper amount of sleep, had about two hundred more questions. She answered every single one of them. When she didn’t know the answer, she texted Harry and waited for his reply patiently.

Some of the questions were a little more sensitive and she didn’t feel right texting them to him. So, she FaceTimed him so she could ask instead. “Niall has a question for you, but it’s a little sensitive,” she warned. She saw him sit up straighter, looking ready and prepared as best he could. He wanted Niall to like him, he knew it was necessary that he liked him. But he also knew that he did a very bad thing, and it would be hard to earn his trust. He nodded readily, like it was a job interview, but nonetheless ready to answer her question.

Niall was off to the side listening intently while he made soup for them. “I feel awkward asking this,” she admitted. Niall turned to nearly glare at her. He wouldn’t back down. It was a question they kept circling back to. One that Niall would probably go crazy about if it wasn’t answered properly.

“S’okay, s’important. S’good t’ask the tough questions,” he promised. “Don’t feel awkward, kitten.”

Niall smirked over the stove already liking the way he spoke to her. It was encouraging that he would make her talk out her feelings and not bottle them up just to protect their relationship. Even if it was awkward or uncomfortable. She sighed. “Do you have a... habit... of kissing other girls when you’re in a relationship... or when you’re upset?” she put her hand on her face to hide the embarrassment. But it was easy to see that she was comfortable asking Harry delicate questions. That never happened in her old relationship. Niall appreciated it before he even heard Harry’s answer.

“No, Sunshine, not at all. S’jus... this s’not an excuse... but you are so nice. Y’made me feel... happy when I didn’t feel happy at all. I was jus’ so tired of not feeling happy. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but it was nice. But I wouldn’t... I won’t kiss anyone but you when the time comes.”

Her heart felt so warm she could have cried. She looked over her phone screen at Niall. “Is that satisfactory?” She asked quietly. Harry smiled shyly, feeling his own face warm at the vulnerability of his statement. But he would have shouted that from roof tops. Niall was welcome to know anything about his relationship if it meant she could be his when the time was right.

“Who’s your favorite football team?” Niall asked suddenly.

“Oh, for the love of God, Niall, he’s English,” she groaned. Harry chuckled.

“It’s important, princess! Might even be more important than the kissing question,” he rolled his eyes. Everyone knew it wasn’t, but while Niall finished ladling soup into bowls for the pair of them, he wanted to tone the seriousness of the room down. He entered the shot of her screen and Harry smiled.

“Manchester United.”

“Well, it was nice knowing you Harry,” Niall said slurping up a spoonful of soup. “Maybe if you get better taste, I’ll let you date her.”

She flicked his face and rolled her eyes again. “Derby is the correct answer,” she explained for Harry. “Followed by Chelsea.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Sorry, Niall. Can’t help who you love.”

Niall smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. “I’ll say.”

“Sorry, I swear my bag is the last one,” she told her phone. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she promised.

Harry chuckled, refraining from saying he would wait forever for her like a lovesick puppy. “S’okay, Sunshine, m’not going anywhere,” he promised.

“I know, but it’s late, and the delay didn’t help, and I know it’s probably been a long day—”

“Kitten, s’fine. M’fine. Missed you a lot. I can miss you a little longer.”

She sighed heavily into the phone. It was going to be hard to remain friends when all she wanted to do was kiss him until her lips physically hurt. “Okay, finally,” she grunted heaving her bag off the conveyor belt. “M’on my way up,” she sighed tiredly.

“See y’in a minute,” he murmured and hung up the phone.

I missed her so much. The little voice in his heart was practically crying with relief and joy that she was a mere escalator ride away now and no longer a terribly long plane ride.

Me too. His conscience agreed. They were much more in sync now that the pretty, sweet girl was in Harry’s life.

Me three. Harry thought.

Harry’s heart slowed the moment she entered his line of vision. He watched her scan tiredly for him. She was in leggings, a big sweatshirt, and a pair of trainers. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she looked exhausted from the delay and her long flight. He imagined she wanted to shower and fall right to sleep.

She very well may have been the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

Harry was standing in the middle of a bunch of other parties waiting for their people to ascend the escalator. There he was, patiently waiting for her. As handsome as he looked for so late at night—unfairly so, after waiting for so long and traveling to the airport not once, but twice due to her delay—she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the bouquet of flowers at his side. His smile was so heartfelt as she approached. Instinctively, he wrapped one arm around her waist, so he didn’t hurt the flowers in his other hand. He kissed the side of her head. “Missed you, kitten.”

“Missed you more, munchkin,” she sighed happily pressing her face to the crook of his neck and breathing in the warm scent of his cologne. Her arms looped up around his shoulders and she sighed again with relief.

There’s no place like home. The voice in her head and her heart were in total agreement.

She and Harry enjoyed being friends so very much. But both knew it wasn’t quite friends. There was the lingering promise there would be more, eventually, when the time presented itself. But for now, they would have pizza nights, watch TV shows together, and do errands and laundry together.

“Can y’tell me more ‘bout your last relationship?” Harry asked quietly. She certainly had pizza sauce on both cheeks from the way the crust bent around her mouth. She wiped a napkin across her face and looked at him. The TV show they had on in the background continued playing, but Harry was watching her.

“What about it?” She asked.

“Jus’... I don’t know. Anything.”

She took a deep breath. “Uh... he was just... controlling. I didn’t do anything to stop it,” she shrugged. “It felt like I had invested so much time into the relationship. Even if it was bad. It’s one thing to say you should or need to start over, it’s an entirely different thing to actually have the courage to do it,” she explained looking at her fingers like they had the answer. “I didn’t even have the courage. Niall had to give it to me.”

He felt every word she said. Every part of it. “Did you love him?”

“Yes,” she nodded firmly.

“Even though it was...bad?”

“You can’t help who you love,” she shrugged in response.

It was hard to be vulnerable, but with Harry it was easy. It was like talking to herself about how she felt. Or like talking to Niall. It was easy and comfortable. But it had always been that way in the time she had known him. It was easy to share hard thoughts and truths. “Do you regret it?” He asked.

She shook her head. “No... I regret losing part of myself, but that’s on me, not him. I... I should have handled it differently... but I did love him—part of him, for a really long time.” She knew Harry was partly asking questions to understand his own relationship. If it was okay to have loved Ava even if she wasn’t always nice. “Y’know, I met Ava one other time...besides the eggs,” she smirked.

“Yeah?” He muttered looking at his plate of pizza.

“Yeah...in front of the mailboxes. I just thought, ‘wow, she has to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,’” she smiled. “I felt bad she was so...grumpy.”

Harry snorted. “Course y’felt bad,” he muttered.

She tilted her head. “Harry,” she said softly. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t have to explain your love,” she told him knowingly. “It doesn’t have to make sense.”

He looked at her with agony in his pretty green eyes. “I want it to,” he whispered.

“I know.”

Harry started the show again and finished munching on his piece of pizza.

“Sunshine?” He said softly.

“Yeah?”

He paused the show again and turned to look at her once more. This time his eyes were so clear. She had seen them angry, sad, heartbroken, but right now they looked serious. Strong. Completely resolute. “It makes sense with you.”

Her grin spreading across her cheeks and Harry thought even with pizza sauce on her cheeks that she was wrong—Ava wasn’t the most beautiful. It had to be her. Right here, a messy bun, pizza grease, and mismatching socks. He was certain. “I think it makes sense with you too, munchkin,” she whispered.

Niall was coming home in a little more than a month. He only had to stay an additional two months to the original year long stay.

But that of course wasn’t the only change.

Harry started doing laundry the right way: a load of darks, a load of whites, and a load of towels.

She started liking cauliflower.

Harry had seen The Wizard of Oz at least twenty times—mostly during the week she was sick right before Christmas and Harry took care of her.

She went to Harry’s work parties. Just as his friend. But everyone kind of thought she was perfect for him anyway. Especially after seeing the startling difference between her and Ava.

But that didn’t stop the guys in Harry’s office from trying their best to win her over. “I’m sorry, I’m not really...seeing anybody,” she explained kindly.

“You have to be seeing Harry,” one of them said with an exasperated sigh.

She laughed. “No, really. We’re not... seeing anybody,” she said.

Harry never pushed her. But Harry knew he had to work out some kinks in his relationship mind anyway. Plus, he enjoyed being her friend. She had a great cure for hangovers and made the best blueberry muffins he had ever eaten.

“You’re going to replace me with him, aren’t you?” Niall asked over the phone.

She smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think anyone can replace you, Niall.”

But at Halloween, Harry dressed up as a scarecrow, she dressed as Dorothy, and he came to the hospital to spread joy to all the little patients who needed smiles more than anyone she had ever met. He delivered perfectly. He pretended to fall on shaky scarecrow legs, and he pretended he didn’t have a brain so the little ones could help search for it.

Even the slightly older kids thought he was funny and thought it was nice how he made the younger kids smile. The parents adored him, of course they did.

She adored him too.

“Are you dating yet?”

It wasn’t just Niall that asked. Gemma had asked at least three times a week. Harry’s mum asked only once a week but only because she knew Gemma was asking more. Even her parents, who couldn’t agree on anything, liked Harry to the umpteenth degree.

“He’s so nice, sweetheart,” her mom said. “He’s adorable too. Clearly, he likes you,” she nodded firmly. She was helping with the Christmas decorations while Harry and her father worked on the outdoor lights. He didn’t even bat an eye at the request. He climbed the ladder to help put the lights on the gutter. “Not even Niall will get on a ladder for us,” she reminded him.

But being friends was good. Being friends was nice. There was no rush. It would happen when it was supposed to. It was good for their souls. Harry was healing. Processing. It didn’t and wouldn’t happen overnight. It took a lot of talking and a lot of assurance that everything he was feeling was normal.

“Is she why you were worried about being a dad?” She asked, randomly.

A lot of their conversations happened like that. A thought would appear in their head, and they let it out. She wanted to know, and Harry wanted to tell her.

He nodded without making eye contact. It helped sometimes not to look at each other. At least when they were having more serious conversations. It made it easier for the words to come out. They could always backtrack later. She looked back at her book. The washing machine was spinning below her, and she was enjoying the latest read—a Harry recommended book, of course.

“Did y’enjoy your childhood?” He asked while he put his laundry in the dryer.

She put the bookmark in between the pages—a birthday gift—so she would stop being a serial killer. “All things considered, yes.”

“But y’worry about...relationships,” he said.

It wasn’t accusatory. He already knew she felt that way. But she nodded affirmatively, anyway. “I do.”

“I don’t want y’to,” he stopped with the dryer and looked at her—through her. “M’not... m’all yours, Sunshine.”

It was like the part of her brain that controlled her heart saw him—really, truly saw him in that moment and said Ah, yes. You found him. Finally.

“Yeah?” She whispered with a smile on her face. He dropped his stuff beside the dryer, hurried the few steps back to her, and put his hands on either side of her hips while he stood before her.

“I never want you t’feel like I don’t love you,” he said simply. As if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world that he loved her. Especially when she felt it too. “I don’t want you t’think we have t’fight like y’parents do. I don’t want you t’think y’can’t spend time with Niall. M’jus... m’so happy t’be in your life. Meeting you was... it was like... finding home.”

Her heart fluttered. “I don’t want you to be angry,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I won’t be. Not like that.”

“Because... I think I loved you the moment I met you,” she told him.

Harry pressed his forehead to hers. It was the closest his lips had been to hers since the day he kissed her when he shouldn’t have. “Yeah?”

“Niall said only a lunatic quotes The Wizard of Oz,” she smiled.

He chuckled, his breath was minty and warm on her lips.

Harry would spend forever thanking the powers that be that he forgot laundry detergent the day he met her. Even though Harry hadn’t touched her mouth in over a year, it was like no time had passed at all in that very same room, when he did for the second time.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles

Love and Dryer Sheets: @love-letters-to-uranus

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #love and dryer sheets

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unforgettwble-sumii · 9 months

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ☆ — W. A

(Wednesday x fem!reader 📖)

⭐ When Wednesday becomes unsure with her feelings, you come at the right time to comfort her.

⭐ Warnings ‼️: ooc! Wednesday, maybe some swearing (?)

⭐ word count: 845

a/n: Hi my dolls, I have no idea what this is but I hope you guys enjoy. I also tried making the font bigger because I realized that it was actually quite hard to read with the small font size I often use, and also since most of you guys liked the bigger font. ε(🎀｡・"・)з

—

Wednesday huffed, her gaze fixed on the piece of paper in front of her. It was now her writing time, but she wasn't feeling as inspired as usual.

She didn't know why no ideas were coming to her; just last night, she had grand plans for a new chapter, but now that it was time to type them down, they seemed to have vanished from her memory.

Perhaps she was too busy with the investigations that she had let the ideas slip her mind. Nevertheless, this was frustrating her. Her mind clouded intensely, whatever she was feeling, she did not like it. She felt vulnerable; it was absolute torture for the young girl; torture she did not like.

She cleared her throat, changing her gaze from the piece of paper to the window. She has never felt this unmotivated.

She stared out the window for a couple of minutes. She hasn't even realized that she hadn't blinked at all; she's too lost in her thoughts.

Suddenly, all the current events came flooding through her mind. From the luckless investigations to you almost dying because of her. The feeling of guilt quickly washing over her. The feeling of it never leaving her.

She was drowned by the overwhelming thoughts, not realizing a stray tear had rolled down from her eye. She snapped out of her trance, quickly wiping the tear. She looked at the wall, unsure of what she was feeling. Her black heart somehow felt softer and weaker.

Soon, more tears came down. She tried her best to wipe them, to no avail. They just kept rolling down her cheek, and soon her chest started to heave.

She promised herself after what happened to Nero—her scorpion, which was unfortunately run over by a bicycle. That she would never cry because it never solved anything. It just made her feel fragile.

However, she broke that promise. She looked so helpless that she internally cringed. She needed something. Something to clear her mind and help her solve her messed up feelings. Or perhaps, a someone.

—

You knocked on the door with a beat, eyes beaming with excitement. You hadn't seen Wednesday all day and thought that paying her dorm room a visit would be a great idea.

A few seconds passed, and no one opened the door. 'Maybe she's not here? ', you thought to yourself. You slightly felt bumped; your excitement was slowly fading. You decided to wait and not barge in uninvited. Maybe Wednesday was just taking her time.

You knocked a second time.

Wednesday heard it this time around and quickly stood up. She made her way to the door, opening it and facing you.

"It's late." Wednesday deadpanned.

"I know, I just wanted to pay you a vi-" you audibly gasped.

"Oh my...have you been crying?" Your tone in voice softening with each word.

Wednesday was stunned with your question, you can see her slightly struggle to respond.

"May I come in?" You asked, to which Wednesday nodded.

You sat at her neatly arranged bed, patting the space beside you; motioning to her to sit with you. She made her way to her bed, maintaining the stoic expression, but not once looking you in the eye.

"What's wrong?" Brows furrowed, concern lacing your voice.

Usually, when someone asked her this question, she would not answer and simply walk away, completely shutting the person off. But after she met you and the two of you started dating, she slowly started to open up. You slowly carved away the hard stone bricks that had caged her little black heart.

She sighed, unsure of what to say. Then, she glanced at you. Your face held a sympathetic expression that encouraged Wednesday to let whatever she was feeling out.

"I am frustrated. No ideas are coming to mind for my book, irrelevant clues that leave me to nowhere, and one that has been bothering me for a while now; the fact that you had your life at line because of me."

She sighed once again before she spoke. "I don't want to put you in danger, Amore."

The endearing nicknames Wednesday called you always made your heart swell.

"I don't care whether I have to go through the deepest darkest pits of hell, as long as I end up in your arms. I choose to be with you even in the most dangerous situations, because I love you, Wednesday. You overwork yourself to exertion, so much so that you barely get enough sleep. Please, get some rest."

You held her hand as you spoke. Each word that flowed from your mouth, uplifted Wednesday's heart.

You slowly engulfed her in a gentle yet heartwarming hug that caught her off guard. She didn't say anything back, but you could feel her slowly melt into the hug and you knew she understood what you had said.

She knew that no matter what happened, you'd always be by her side, in her arms.

She also knew she would face the most heinous and terrifying beast ever conceived to keep you safe.

"I love you too, Tesorina."

#wednesday addams x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday imagines #wednesday x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday 2022 #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams smut

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

I loved your fic where Yelena wore a packer. Do you think you could do headcanons for Arcane women doing that too?

Bringing back memories Anon. To this day that's one of my favorite fics that I've written.

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Enforcer Grayson, Mel, Ambessa x Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, grinding, making out, straddling, handjob, blowjob, praise, teasing

A/N: I really miss these characters man, when are they coming back?!

One of the first things she does when she gets a packer is ask you if you want to have some fun with her. It will be different then what you usually do because its soft not hard but you'll figure it out for sure.

Even Jinx can't keep the gasping to a minimum when you take the cock and put your mouth around it. She can't thrust it like she can do with her strap but this is almost better, the way you look when you're down there, when you're kissing the tip, eyes closed and clearly getting excited from the idea of her wearing it all the time, of you being able to do this all the time.

"All the time, but that would be spoiling you too much sugar. I do want to spoil you but if I just give you everything you want, well simply put, where's the fun for me. I like you doing the chasing from time to time. If you think you can convince me then you better put that mouth to work."

God damn, the grinding she will put you though. Vi is already pretty horny with you and now that you have something to grind against when she pushes you against the wall, just downright irresistable.

At first you didn't even notice it cause of the baggy pants she wore but when you were hiding and sneaking around you felt the bulge pressing against your ass. Getting frisky in the open like this, while being chased no less, seems like her wilding ways had gotten to you. Honestly she couldn't be happier about that.

"Here? You want to just... oh. Well I haven't seen this side of you before sweet thing, I like it, I like it a lot. See you noticed my surprise. I didn't plan on wearing it today but I figured why not. You couldn't even tell until I started grinding against that pretty ass."

Caitlyn was a little hesitant to put it on at first. She wasn't sure if you would like it. It wasn't until you were on your knees, in front of the bed sucking her off that she fully embraced the idea.

How could anyone resist the look of you like that? Drooling all over her dick until she's a mess herself, trying to get a hold of her own breathing to stop herself from getting dizzy from the site of you. She knows those tongue movements well, the same ones you know drive her insane when you do them over her clit, its no different now, even though she can't feel them.

"You need to slow down my darling. Yes, if you must know, your mouth is that good. It is for me alright? Do you not believe me or something? I would think that the many orgasms I've had because of you are proof enou- wait, that. What you just did with your tongue, I need to see it again."

Once she gets her hands on one you're not only gonna be in her lap all the time but also horny all the time because it will be a constant reminder that she's gonna be putting your pussy to work later.

While you're in public, and you in her lap, no one can tell that she's wearing one, which is good, you want to be the only one know knows. You want to be able to straddle her lap and pull her into a kiss and feel that delicious pressure against your cunt, separated by clothing but still able to stain over her bulge as you slowly roll against her.

"Your seat is right here sweetcheeks. Got a surprise for you today too. Like it? Thought you might. Even in public I can see you drooling for me. No shame in that at all, you know I'd bend you over right here if you said yes. Already wet, maybe you want it after all. Ah I see, its just yours to see. Greedy little bitch."

Does not wear it while on duty, only when she's at home. Its because she doesn't trust you or herself not do anything at work while she has it. She let herself get distracted by you more then once.

But when she gets home she will comfortably wear the packer around you, bucking against your hand when you palm at it while you kiss her neck and cheek. Don't be shy, you can touch her all you want now, she's aching for it as much as you are. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a model Enforcer when you're teasing her all the time?

"Stop teasing sweetie, I'm already on edge. You know very well why, don't play coy. I might be off duty but I can still handcuff and interrogate you. That is true, you can't really answer questions with your mouth full. We can take it one step at a time."

Now listen, being horny in the Council room is one thing, sucking Mel off under the table just because she told you she was packing that day is another.

This is a place of ideas and discussion, not sex and sucking. Or so she claims but she's pushing your head closer even as she scolds you, she's pressing her heels against your back, looking at you with near reverence because you seem to be worshiping her cock right now.

"I should really tell make sure you stay out of here in the future, darling. Don't get me wrong, I love you but when you're sucking me like this, in a place of work, I will have a hard time focusing on the meetings later. All I will think of is you between my legs."

Ambessa would have you on the couch, laying sideways, naked and giving her a blowjob while she rubs her hand down your body. When she wants you to go faster she will reach down and squeeze your ass.

She loves seeing you bobbing your head up and down on her cock, alternating between it and licking and kissing her many scars while your hand is on her cock. It doesn't take much for her to start thrusting up in your mouth, her hands now on the back of your head, keeping you still, slowly massaging you while she fucks your mouth.

"Do you want me to get my strap sweetheart? This is a pretty sight but I really want to fuck your throat. Are you still sore from last time? I can always kiss you better. Between your legs? Even better. Get up here. No, no, keep your mouth on me, I'll hold you up just fine."

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #sevika x reader #grayson x reader #mel medarda x reader #ambessa medarda x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane smut #league of legends #arcane #league of legends imagine #league of legends headcanons #league of legends smut #league of legends x you #league of legends x reader

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sleepyangelkami · 3 months

Note

Hi, I was thinking Vi x Reader. Where Reader is half human and half vampire and she hasn’t drink blood in weeks now and she is crazy starving. When Vi came back home from work she didn’t see her girlfriend in the living room but found her in their shared room facing back to her. Vi slowly walk to her but Reader flinched and not turning towards her. Reader explained why she is not turning towards her but Vi wants her to drink blood from her but Reader refuse because she might think that she will hurt Vi. Vi told her it is okay and Reader made a decision by letting her drink blood from Vi.

BOTTOMS UP .vi

☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - vampire!reader hasn't been able to drink blood in what felt like forever. luckily for her, vi's there with open arms and an outstretched wrist. in fear of hurting her, you decline the offer but you and her both know you won't be able to refuse her much longer.

☆ WARNINGS - blood, vampire themes, def inaccurate description of vampires, petnames, use of y/n, use of good girl, thumb sucking?, sorta suggestive, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

your throat was dry and your head was pounding. you lay curled up in your bed, the blinds shut and your hands pressed against your face. you tried to shut everything out, block out the loud yells in your head. you were hungry, so very hungry.

but you were also sure that your girlfriend would be home soon.

piltover had put up the walls between zaun and piltover but jayce assured you that the walls wouldn't last long after seeing the worry written across your face. why? he wasn't sure. then again, neither did he deem it his business to ask. but with the walls being up between zaun and piltover, you had no way of getting into the woods. the place you went to when you were hungry.

you were a vampire, yes, had been for many years now, would be for the rest of eternity.

but you didn't feed on humans, no, you wouldn't even dream of it. despite your monster-like qualities, you vowed to be nothing like a monster. you didn't want to be the type of tale that scared kids, the type that their older siblings read before bed, just trying to get them riled up. you fed from animals, in the woods where no one would see you. and only one knew of your secret.

the same girl that was opening your front door.

"hey, cupcake." vi was walking through the door, tiredness evident in her voice. she found herself in your guys' shared bedroom as quick as lightning. ever since you'd moved out from your parents house, everything seemed so much smaller but with vi by your side, the world seemed to be filled with endless opportunities.

you didn't respond, but vi wasn't too concerned yet.

the curtains had been drawn, only she assumed that was due to the fact it was currently night and not the fact that your brain was in scrambles from when the sunlight was peeking through. she'd been working for a while now, helping out some kiramman girl with something she needed help on. she needed insight on the very city of zaun, the one vi had grown up in her entire life. so naturally, she didn't mind helping the girl. the one thing she didn't like? leaving you for so long.

you felt outstretched arms wrap around your torso, her head falling into your shoulder. only now, had you realised she'd been talking the past five minutes. "y'listening?" and your silence served as an answer enough. "hey, what's wrong, baby? you're being quiet." when she turned you around she could see your tear-stained under eyes and your pale complexion. "hey, what's wrong?"

you could see the worry coating her eyes and it made you impossible more guilty. "doesn't matter." but she could see by the under eye bags and your teased hair that it did matter.

"you're shaking." she commented, taking you into her arms with worry. at first, she would have assumed that you were sick. her hand placed itself on your forehead, feeling for any temperature. you were merely cold. "oh, is this a... you know, vamp thing?" you suddenly felt very embarrassed. "hey, hey, i'm not judging, you know that." her hands soothed down your arms, sitting up and pulling you with her. "i jus' wanna know what's wrong so i can help you."

"y'can't help." you spoke, looking away and not reaching her eyes.

but she wasn't having any of that. her fingers drew your chin back to her. "we don't know that until we try." she attempted at coaxing you. "jus' tell me wh's the matter?"

"the walls." your mumble caused her ears to perk under her bubblegum hair. "can't go into the woods."

"oh, baby." she frowned suddenly, realising she hadn't thought of that at all. "I was so wrapped up in working with caitlyn, i completely forgot."

but before you could even assure her that it was okay, your hands were pushing at her. "v-vi." trying to get away. with confused eyes, her hands followed you, pressing against your upper arms. "vi, please don't touch me." suddenly feeling tears spring in your eyes.

the girls brows were pinched together. "why not?" before contorting to a look that told you she understood what you had meant now. "oh."

"vi, please." but she didn't let go. you didn't want to loose control, but you were starving. you needed to eat before you ended up killing yourself but for the first time in all of your life, you'd truly been tempted. you'd been tempted to feed off a human but that wasn't you, you wouldn't hurt somebody. you wouldn't kill somebody. but with the hunger that you felt then, you were sure that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop.

vi's hands were on you, her eyes searching yours even as you tried to back away. but vi was keen, she didn't let you move. her hands held an iron grip on you, sapphire eyes boring into your own. "feed off me."

your eyes went wide as saucers, whipping your head towards her so fast you were sure you'd gotten whiplash. "what?" is the only word that fell from your lips, your brows now pinched together and your hands shaking impossibly more. what she was asking you to do, it wasn't just dangerous, it was suicidal.

but her hands didn't stop soothing up and down your arms, she didn't even seem afraid of you. she should be, she really should be. even you were afraid of yourself. "you're in pain." she noted by the way your face had contorted from the minute she stepped into the room. with her being here, it would only be harder to control your urges and she didn't want you to have to do that. "let me help you, sweet girl."

but you didn't feel anything alike 'sweet' in that given moment. you glanced up at her, doey eyes coated with a glossy cover of tears. "vi, 'm really hungry." a whole whimper falling from your lips. "i can't―I wouldn't be able to stop― I don' wanna hurt you." but god, were you tempted.

"hey." her fingers brushing up and down your arms so gently. "everythings gonna be okay, cupcake, y'just gotta let go, 'kay?" she was reaching her arm up towards you, your eyes impossibly wide. "jus' let go for me, angel."

but you couldn't. you wouldn't. but her wrist lay in front of you, pumping. and you suddenly felt dizzy. "vi." you whimpered, the first tear falling down your doll-like cheek.

"'s okay." she cooed, soothing you. "'s okay just let me help you." she watched as your gaze turned back to her wrist, head feeling all floaty like and your eyes a little hazy. "jus' wanna help you." but even she was beginning to feel light headed, and you hadn't even began. sure, she wanted to help you and she'd do that a thousand times over, only a tiny feeling at the bottom of her stomach was laced with fear. then she remembered who was standing in front of her. her sweet and lovely y/n, you'd do no wrong, you wouldn't hurt her. even if you fed from her. "bottoms up." she mumbled.

she watched as your face contorted lightly, almost in pain as your mouth opened, fangs seeping out from your teeth. you whimpered gently as vi guided her wrist towards your mouth. hesitantly, you looked at her to which she nodded. in your starvation? more than enough for you. you gently sunk your teeth into her skin.

vi inhaled, squeezing in a breath as a light pain trickled around her body. but she didn't scream or yell about. that was the thing about vi, pain tolerance like no other. her free hand came down to your head, pressing against the crown of your hair. "that's a good girl." she spoke, gently stroking your hair. "see? you're okay."

but your mind wasn't focusing on her words, they were merely entering one ear and getting tossed out the next. your teeth were impaled in her skin, the blood filling your mouth. your eyes shut, a little noise of relief leaving your lips. your hands moved to press her wrist closer against your mouth. it tasted so good.

almost instantly, you felt the colour return to your face, the eye bags wash away as relief pumped through your veins.

you never drank human blood but this wasn't just any human, it was vi. and it tasted better than any animal you'd ever seen, you were sure it'd taste better than any human, too.

you could have drank the blood until her body run dry. but you couldn't. in fear of hurting her, you took your mouth away from her wrist, pulling away as your eyes flickered back up to hers, checking for any sign of regret.

you were blinking harshly, trying to let the blood set in after not drinking in weeks. while your body was swaying gently, vi was still ever so still. her eyes were a little hazy as her lips curved upwards. her thumb came down to meet your mouth, gently smearing the blood that had been on it around your bottom lip. she tapped your cheek causing you to part your mouth. instantly, she stuck her blood-covered thumb between your lips.

you whimpered softly against the skin, your eyes fluttering shut. "'s a good girl." she mumbled. "so good."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist

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