#esp gifs two and four

[arthenaa]

Unspoken Attraction — Sebastian Sallow x Reader

PLOT SUMMARY:

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

DISCLAIMER:

gossip gossip hihi, imelda being the best and just roasts every1 esp seb, seb being down bad, realizations, friends 2 lovers, kiss kiss fall in love, gender neutral reader, readers house is up to u, fluff disgusting fluff, i love u sallow boy.

"I think Amit is quite handsome. I suppose he'd be a good conversation partner." Natty hums as she rests her chin on the palm of her hand. Imelda looks at her with disgust.

"He'd probably love astronomy more than you in your relationship. I'd punch him on the first date." Imelda scoffs, rolling her eyes. Poppy just gives the Slytherin gal a glare for her unkind words.

The four of you were lounging in the empty Beasts classroom, relaxing in the cool breeze coming from the forest. Professor Howin had allowed the four of you (originally you and Poppy, but Imelda and Natty had passed by and decided to tag along) to stay in the classroom in hopes of teaching the new 5th year (You) more about Beasts but all you've done in the past hour is sit on one of the tables and talk about the most random of things. Now you were talking about who to date in Hogwarts.

"What about Yrma?" Poppy suggests. "She's nice."

"Stop suggesting Ravenclaws. I physically cannot handle it." Imelda grunts. You shoot her a sympathetic look to which she flips you off. "Also, she's a third year. I'd die if you pair me up with someone younger. A journalist, too, she'd know every step I'll do, and I'll just have an aneurysm because of it."

"Alright, what about Weasley?" You suggest. Natty makes a look, considering the option. Poppy sighs and shakes her head.

"Which one?" Imelda jokes, to which Natty smacks her arm. Poppy rolls her eyes before answering the question.

"He's cute but too mischievous." Poppy lists. Imelda nods, agreeing with her statement. Poppy pets the Puffskein sleeping on her lap, smiling softly at the cute creature snoring away.

"Eh. He's fun. I can probably handle him." Natty says. You let out a small laugh.

"I'll pass. He's like a brother to me. Probably because Professor Weasley acts too much like a mom." You reply. You lean closer to Poppy, glancing down at the Puffskein to coo at it.

"What about Dale? She's cute." Natty suggests. She then turns to Imelda, who looks like she'd complain once more about a Ravenclaw being listed. "Don't."

"What? I wasn't gonna say anything..."

"It's because her past lover was from Ravenclaw that she's like this." Poppy says with a disappointed look on her face. "Clumping up all Ravenclaws and putting your prejudice that was originally for one person into the general public, huh?"

"Shut it, Sweeting." Imelda glares at her.

"Alright, stop fighting. I know you'd rather date a Hufflepuff, Reyes." You tease. The Slytherin's cheeks flush, and a harsh kick to your knee sends you jolting up against the table with a pained groan. The Puffskein awakens to the sudden harsh movement and jumps off Poppy's lap.

"Imelda!" Poppy whines as she watches the Puffskein hop away to its den. "Look at what you did!"

"How'd you even know it was me?!" Imelda complains. Poppy crosses her arms over her chest.

"You're seated directly in front of Y/N. They'd never jump for no reason, and also, Natty's an angel. Besides, I could feel the kick." Poppy chastised. Imelda looks away with furrowed eyebrows and a pout as she grumbles about it, not being her fault. You look at the two with a smile.

"It's okay, Poppy, let's just continue." You send Imelda a knowing smile to which she scowls at. Natty giggles at the interaction.

"Ooh, what about Gaunt?" Natty wiggles her eyebrows. "He's a young lord. Deemed one of the most handsome in our year. I'd date him."

"Really? You'd get pulverized by his crazy blood status fanatic of a family." Imelda leans forward to place her arms on the table before leaning down to rest her head on it. "But I guess he's decent. The type to defend you against them. A typical romantic cliche."

"Doesn't he have a lover?" Poppy mentions. Imelda immediately rises up at the information.

"Oh yeah. I saw them snogging near DADA. Sebastian looked like he was constipated, muttered about when it was his turn to be happy or something." Imelda cringes at the memory. At the mention of the Sallow boy's name, Natty and Poppy glance at each other with knowing looks. Suddenly, their attention is on you.

"What about you, Y/N? Will you date Ominis?" Poppy smiles knowingly. There's something about the two's stare that puts you in an uncomfortable position.

"Uh..." You purse your lips in thought. Ominis was one of your best friends. He had been with you through thick and thin, but that's all he ever was. Besides, he was happily in love with someone else. "Not really? Same answer with Gareth's."

Natty nods in understanding. Imelda glances at the two in confusion. "Why do you two look like you're the one who's constipated?"

"Shut it, Reyes." Poppy rolls her eyes. You laugh at their bickering. At this point, there was one person who definitely should be mentioned in this conversation. He was already well known in the school for his charming personality and handsome looks. People always gossip about him. You let out a shaky breath before nervously glancing at the three.

"What about Sebastian?" You suggest. The three fall in silence, not responding to the question. It didn't even look like they were contemplating about it. "Hello? Did you not hear me or what—"

"Oh no, we heard you." Imelda chuckles as she smirks at her. When Imelda smirks, you know it's not good. "I just don't think we can claim him."

"Claim him?" You tilt your head in confusion. "You make it sound like he's already dating someone."

"Ehh..." Natty shrugs her shoulders. "Aren't you?"

"Aren't I what? Huh?" You sat, baffled at their curious looks. "I'm not dating Sebastian?"

The three look at each other before laughing. It wasn't even a casual laugh, it's full on stomach grabbing, tear inducing, I'm-gonna-pee what the fuck laugh. You look at them in confusion.

"Merlin, I can't take this seriously." Natty wipes a tear from her eyes as she continues to laugh.

"I'm really not dating him!?"

"You're so funny!" Imelda pats your shoulder. "Don't tell me kissing each other everywhere except the lips counts as friendly. Who the fuck kisses their friend on the neck?"

"Uh, she has a point." Poppy shrugs. "He walks you to class, holds your hand, and not even in a normal way. It's the intertwined one, and if looks could kill, Garreth Weasley had already been buried months ago."

"Also, he always touches you. An arm on your waist, hugging you from behind, fixing your hair, looking at you like you're the Messiah yourself." Natty lists on, continuing Poppy's evidence. Surely not?

You stare at them with wide eyes and an unreadable look. You and Sebastian had always had a strong bond. Ominis often commented about feeling left out whenever you two were together. You always thought that he was just teasing you about it. The things that you've gone through had eliminated all barriers between the two of you, so physical affection had seem normal for you. Had the line between friends and more than friends became too blurred already?

"Merlin's beard. You don't know!" Natty gasps in shock. "Rafiki, that is more than just friendship."

"But I'm really not..." You try to defend yourself, but the more that they stare at you, the more you start to realize how obvious it should've been. Before you could try and convince yourself about how ludicrous it is all, Imelda delivers the final blow.

"Love, everyone knows Sebastian is yours."

Heat rises to your cheeks, and as if things couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice calls out to your little group.

"There you are!" Sebastian Sallow, the devil himself, grins as he approches your little group with Ominis trailing behind. The three cough at his sudden appearance and you freeze in your seat.

He makes his way behind you, grasping your shoulder firmly before leaning down close to your face. "Hey, I'm here. No greeting?"

You turn your head towards him, glancing at the three girls who look away, trying to contain their laughter. You look back at Sebastian, who smiles, expecting something. You sigh, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. He lights up like a Christmas tree.

At the sight of affection, the three suddenly stand up, collecting their things. "O-oh I just remembered I forgot to water the chinese cabbages again, haha! Silly me! I better go get it!" Natty says with a poorly concealed smile. Sebastian looks at her, confused.

"Uh? Okay?" Sebastian awkwardly laughs. You glared at her as she grabbed Imelda and Poppy who make haste in gathering their things.

"I also have to bring them and Ominis because of ... uh... safety." Natty bullshits her way through as Imelda grabs the young Gaunt's arm, pulling him with them.

"Huh what? I didn't get a say in th—" Poppy covers his mouth as they walk away, dragging him along. Natty gives her a final thumbs up of encouragement as the two of you watch in confusion. You watch as their figures disappear before the boy beside you finally breaks the silence.

"There they go." Sebastian sighs. "I was hoping I'd get to hang out, but oh well. I don't really have complaints with just us here."

You flush at his bluntness as he sits down beside you, pulling your figure to his arms. He hugs you tightly before resting his head on your shoulder. "History of Magic felt like forever. I swear I'd never be able to stay awake in that class. Binns must've put something in the air."

You couldn't focus. He's so close.

"Lucky that you and Ominis get to share that class. At least you'd have someone to suffer with." He jokes as he raises his head. Silence engulfs you both as he stares at your face.

"Stop." You groan as you try to push his face away, but he only grasps your hand in his palm.

"Why? You look like you're about to explode." He laughs softly. You still couldn't look at him, eyes trained at the table in front of you. To make things worse, he grabs your chin before softly turning your head towards him.

"I'm talking to you. Look at me." He mumbles lowly in a deep voice. You almost wanted to whimper at how attractive that was.

"Stop doing that, I swear." You whisper as you look at him, nervousness creeping. He smirks, leaning in.

"Why? You seem so quiet today." He chuckles, pulling you closer as he tucks a stray hair away from your face. "What's got your pretty little head busy, hm?"

"You." You admit as your eyes admire his features. He lets out a soft smile.

"Me?"

"Yeah." You raise your hands to cup his cheeks. The two of you had been sitting so close that if you just lean a little bit forward, you'd be able to kiss him.

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows in amusement as his gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips.

"You're so annoying." You pout. He bites his lip before dropping his head on your shoulder. Your fingers then softly scratch his scalp and twirling his curls. He raises his head back up before unashamedly stares at your lips.

"I don't need to tell you what's going to happen, right?" He whispers. You gulp nervously as your arms slide up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Mhm." You hum before placing a chaste kiss on his lips, testing the waters. He lets out a shaky breath at the sudden action. You look up at his eyes, trying to discern if what you did was okay before he grins fully and leans back down to kiss you again.

Your body unconsciously pushes against him, craving his touch. You tenderly kiss him back, hands occuppied with his soft hair. His hands rub your lower back gently as he continues to kiss you. You don't know how much time has passed before you pull away. You both smile at each other before Sebastian leans forward to give you more pecks on the lips. You giggle at his behavior.

"I like you." He whispers, nudging his nose against yours. You smile at his confession, palms now cupping his cheeks. You press a firm kiss on his lips before staring at him in adoration.

"I like you too."

A/N 1.1 : IM DEAD i love this. Also im not sure if I said friend in Swahili right ,,, lmk if its correct 🫶

A/N 1.2 : TYSM FOR ENJOYING THIS LOVE U ALL

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy #poppy sweeting #imelda reyes #natsai onai #ominis gaunt

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, GETTING CAUGHT BY YOUR CHILD

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ summary: you’re caught in by your kids, how do you guys handle the situation?

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ warnings: nsfw, crack, fluff, kids feeling traumatized

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ amara’s note: thank you the req anon!!

Azriel

Your bent on all fours, gripping your sheets as Azriel slutted you out, hands on your waist as he thrusted in and out.

As much as you loved hanging around everyone, you were in some desperate need of him.

Azriel had been away on many affairs, often leaving you alone. And though you were surrounded by everyone, you still felt a crushing loneliness that only he could fill

When he finally came home after a two weeks long business trip, you stuck to him like glue. Seriously, whatever he was doing, you were doing too

Azriel saw it snd decided to treat you good after a long time alone

“Right there,” you breathlessly tell him, urging him to speed up just a bit, his throaty groans and moans making you crazy wet

“D’ya know how—how much i missed you and this pretty little pussy? Hm?” his charming, teasing voice made your walls tighten around him, your whines getting more messy as you got closer to cumming

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he praises with a smile, proud of your strength.

It’s really not easy keeping up with Azriel, esp not in bed

“I like makin’ you feel good,” you whimper out, short gasp falling from you at the end of the statement, finding the spot inside you that makes you go insane

“Yeah, what else so you like?” he asks with a little smirk

You’re so far out of it, you barely notice the doorhandle being pulled.

You gasp when Azriel pulls out and with his cold shadows whisk you away to the cabin. You went from being fucked on all fours to standing up, so fast that your knees almost buckled had it not been fpr azriel holding uou up

”Az, what—what is going on? is this some sort of punishment?” you whined, grinding your ass against him.

”Not a punishment, just saving us from the most awful moment in our lives,” he says lowly as his shadows report your twin boys looking for you.

It takes a minute for your brain to register where you actually are. Rhysand’s cabin.

You also realize your both completely naked

“Az, what are we doing here?” you furrow your brows in true confusion

“The boys were about to walk in, i had to move us.”

“So you moved us to rhys’s cabin in the illyrian mountains? a closet or another room wasn’t an option?” you remarked, genuinely curious.

“I obviously wanted to be on safe side,” he said as if you were the crazy one, not him for bringing you thousands of miles from home

Rhys

After a day of teasing him relentlessly he finally caught you alone, planning on having his version of fun with you

“You think you can play with me all day and i won’t play back?” he tilts his head a little at you, surprised you actually think he’s gonna let it slide

your teasing had ranged from projecting nasty flashbacks of him pounding you in his mind to fun little kisses to his neck while he was talking to someone

“Um, no. But i was just horny, you can’t punish me for that, right?” you say slowly backing away from him as you did ur best to save your ass

Rhysand would definitely not let you cum, he would drag it out for hours and you for sure would be left crying

He pulls you closer, guiding you to bend over his lap. “You need to learn patience, my dear. And I'll be the one to teach you.”

Approximately 20 minutes into him fingering you then pulling away just as you’re about to cum, a knock is heard.

Rhysand looks at the door and calmly uses magic to clean you both up, not a hint of your activities left

“Papa, can you come to my room, i had a nightmare,” your son cries, fat tears rolling down his cheek as he clutches his favorite teddy.

Your heart breaks for him as you watch Rhys pick him up, carefully rocking him in his arms.

“Of course, buddy. Let’s go to your room, I’m here to protect from everything.”

Just before he leaves with your son, Rhys snaps his fingers, removing your clothes and binding you to the bed.

“Don’t think you’re in the clear,” he chuckles into your mind.

Cassian

He had been crazy horny all day

Anything you did was just an insane turn on. Cassian justified his horny urges by saying it was your fault

But was it really normal to be turned on by you leaning over the sink to wash your face?

Cassian sure thought it was, anything you do is sexy in his head

Reading, sexy. Walking, sexy. Eating, sexy. Yelling at him, super fucking sexy

So he was on you, having fun makeout sessions in the most random places like rhysand’s wine cellar or Mor’s closet when you borrwed a dress

“Let me hit,” he begs, arms wrapping around your waist

“Is that how you ask for me?”

“Please, let me have sex with you. I’m dying for it, i’m dying for you.” he says the last part with a smug smile, thinking he is rizzing you up like crazy

You still let him hit tho

So you crawl into his lap, his body leaning against the headboard as you settle in, his hands roaming your body

He rips your shirt clean off, leaving you in nothing as he starts playing with your tits

“Dad, i’m feeling sick. Do you think Madja is still—” your daughters voice makes cassian panic, resulting in him throwing you off his lap, scrambling to look normal

“Hey, babygirl. What’s up!!” he says, smiling up at her as he tries to ignore your glare.

“Ew, oh my gods. Please tell me you guys weren’t having sex, i think i might actually throw up.”

She looks at you but you just look away, keeping the blanket around you.

“Excu— sex??? wha—what are you talking about? Babe, please, are you hearing this nonsense?” he chuckles nervously as he points to your daughter with a scandalously shocked look, like he couldn’t believe her words

“Yeah, i’m going over to auntie Feyre’s. Bye,” your daughter leaves before you have the chance to say anything else

“I mean, sex is super overrated. I don’t even partake in such activities, okay? I don’t even like sex, yuck!” he yells , hoping your daughter hears as she vanishes

You stand up from where he threw you, narrowing your eyes at him as you clear your throat

He looks back at you with wide eyes, holding his hands up in defense as he remembers what he has done

“Babe, thats was a lie. Sex is fucking amazing, especially with you. And i’m sorry for throwing you, i panicked.”

“Make it up to me and i might forgive you.”

Bro makes up for it good, like really REALLY good

Eris

Eris is just like Azriel, he will not let anyone catch you. He has sealed your bedroom over and over again with tricky, protective spells.

The only way in is by blood, only his and yours.

And sometimes when he’s balls deep into you, making the bed creak, he forgets the fact that your children are a mix of those two blood types

So when you start moaning and letting out noises of pleasure, it shocks your 6-year old daughter who thinks her dad is hurting her mom

“Please, make—make me cum again, please, Eris.”

Eris is so mean sometimes. He had edged you all day, only allowing you to come once.

”You think you deserve it?” he asks

You whine, ”Fuck, please— be nice to me— please, pleaseeee.”

“An impatient slut like yourself don’t deserve to cum. You knew this would happen and you gave me fucking attitude anyway,” he scoffed.

A loud cry and fading footsteps are heard as you both freeze

You get dressed instantly and run out, worried about why your daughter was awake and wailing.

“Hey baby what’s wrong?” Eris squats down next to her crying self before he recieves a punch to the gut.

“I heard what you said to mommy, you hurt her and i hate you!” she yelled as she sobbed in your arms

You both look at each other in embarrassment, obviously understanding what she was referring to

“Oh! Um, no daddy wasn’t hurting me or was being mean. It was a game, i promise. See? I’m fine, sweetheart.”

Eris felt nauseous. He didn’t want your daughter thinking he was hurting you, just like his father had hurt his mother.

“Kit, i could never hurt your mother. I love her more than anything. It was just a game and i promise, you’ll never hear it again.”

She nodded before kissing your cheek and then running into his arms, dead asleep in just a few seconds

You kissed Eris, reassuring him that he wasn’t being to rough or mean and that you actually liked it.

Still, he never degraded you again, despite your wishes.

Lucien

It is your 100th anniversary as mates

Of course there’s a massive celebration for you

Grand balls, beautiful gowns, exclusive parties for a week straight, expensive drinks, luxurious vibes

You had the time of your life with the love of your life (see what i did there)

Azriel and Feyre had been tasked with keeping your children safe

But they get distracted for one second, allowing your girl to slip away

You and Lucien are in the bathroom, making out with your hands down his pants

You were supposed to leave for a trip after, a vacation to celebrate your love for a century but you couldn’t wait

Since you two didn’t have to worry about your kids and keeping an eye on them, you had free reign to give him a handjob whilst he played with your nipples

“You just couldn’t wait, huh?” you said smugly, sliding your thumb over the slit of his cock, making him groan

“Like you can talk, you’re here with your tits out like some common whore,” he retaliated, tugging on your sensitive nipples, enjoying the way you melted

“Daddy what are you doing?”

Your heads snap to the door in horror when you hear your toddlers voice

Feyre runs in exhausted from chasing your daugher before her eyes widen in shock as she covers your girls eyes before dragging her out.

“I’m so sorry, she managed to run away!” she exclaimed as she hurried out, shutting the door thoroughly

You and Lucien look at each other, laughing before getting dressed again.

“Is this a sign to just wait for the trip?”

“Yeah, i believe it is.”

#talkswithamara #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel #rhysand #eris vanserra #azriel fic #rhysand acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #azriel imagine #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

[xo-cod]

OP plz i am o b s e s s e d with all the bg!Simon stuff u put out bc it's just so *g o o d*, it's my Roman Empire fr fr ✊😔😩🖤

On that note,, I'd love to see the 141 as their whole security team esp when popstar's made it really big, so reader needs /all/ the big burly men protecting her 🫣

-🔒

this was so cute!! i write this au just for you and the two other people that enjoy it frfr 🥹🩷😙 lmk if you'd like a more in depth version! :")

the way bg!ghost would see you getting anxious at the sight of his team. he might be the most biggest but his team certainly do not lack their own respective height and muscles 😮‍💨🫶

his first thought would be to immediately calm you down, he knows they all can look incredibly intimidating together

"s'ok, they're with me alright?" ghost's voice is gentle, soothing as he speaks to you

he needs a clear word to see how you are and where your head is at and when you start to warm up to the team, he's right behind you

soap, gaz and price are dressed in formal wear just like ghost, their muscles all but bulging and straining against their shirts.

a range of weapons are strapped to their waist, hidden discreetly under their blazers

each of them donning a pair of sunglasses, standing tall in their stance

you can feel ghost's hand touch the small of your back and usually under any other condition, you would've taken the time to appreciate how good it felt against you

but a set of three different eyes analyses your every movement, your breath held as you await the criticisms but there is none

to your surprise all three men crack a small smile, each one different yet almost tender in their own ways

"easy sweetheart, we're just here to help" gaz's voice is gentle, calm, trustworthy.

"yeah, you won't even know we're here hen" soap is next, removing his sunglasses as he takes a cheeky smile at you

"you'll be safe with us, we're here for your protection" price's voice is soothing, his deep voice echoing pleasantly in your ears as you take in all three men carefully

and once you get acquainted with them, you get along with all three fairly quickly

cue ghost getting jealous when you start going to them instead of him :(

but they're seriously intimidating, sometimes without even trying

whenever a supporter wanted a picture or an autograph, all four men were stiff and rigid around you. like four impenetrable walls, caging you inside safe and soundly

it was a nightmare to even use the bathroom alone

whenever someone calls your name, all four men snapping their heads so worryingly fast you'd fear they get whiplash with the way they turned

if paparazzi was harassing you, they'd just need one collective look from the 141 to back off immediately

the dominance each man exudes is different and dependant yet potent, you can tell they don't mess around with their job and the tasks they've been assigned <3

also when someone attempted to try and throw something at you, resulting in said object hitting ghost's broad chest and bouncing off to the floor in front of his feet. the man barely flinching through it all as he looked back up to the person who threw it.

ghost's eyes burning behind his balaclava, taking an intimidating step forwards

soap and gaz immediately grabbing the man by his arms, barely using any of their strength to restrain

"now you've gone and done it, huh" price chuckles but it's not the one you're accustomed to. no, this one was was sharp and cold. this meant business

and for all their hard work you, of course, spoil them. which also turns soap and gaz into little children opening presents when you get them something they had been dying for, pouncing on you for a hug

price chuckling and telling you that you didn't need to do this but you obviously bought something for him too. his heart melting as he looks back and forth from his present and then to you. bringing you in for a gentle hug and a forehead kiss

ghost watching with a roll of an eye but a hint of a chuckle, his eyes on you the whole time. though he thinks he's being neutral, you note how his pupils dilate when he's by you

for a look that's only reserved for you only, "that's my girl"

#asks #bodyguard!141 x reader #bodyguard!141 #🔒 anon <3

[floral-force]

Hi! I saw your requests are currently open, I've never requested anything before, so I hope I'm doing this right. I saw this prompt:

"Here, let me buy you a new one"

and I imagined it with Simon Riley. Honestly, I think that man is too traumatised to meet his s/o in his line of work, man would be worried sick about his partner's life and I jist think it would cause him anxiety looking out for his partner's and own head on a mission. If he were to meet his s/o, I believe it would be accidentally, like he bumps into his s/o and spills her coffee or vice versa. He admires them for a moment, but continues on with his life. And then he happens to stumble upon them more often and slowly starts falling for them... I'd like the readee to be female, but it's okay with me if the reader is g/n. Also, a slowburn would be just right for my idea.... Hope this is not too bothersome, ty regardless if you decide to write it or not <3

I also personally think our beloved simon wouldn't be able to mentally focus with his SO in the field. some folks think he wouldn't be able to fall for a civ, but I’m personally more of a fan of that or a medic!reader. and, I'll die on the hill that he's a gentleman when the moment calls for it. I write requests as drabbles and short one shots (esp since im editing a few wips) so I tried to get the slow burn in as best as I could. I hope you enjoy this nonnie!!

(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)

Are You Mine?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

summary: He bumps into her far too often for it to be mere coincidence. Suddenly, a spilled coffee leads to something more, and Simon falls deeper into the puddle he caused all those months ago.

words: 1.7k+

warnings/tags: 18+ only/NO MINORS ALLOWED, innuendo, meet cute, soft!simon, fluff, allusions to smut, slow burn, gentleman!simon "ghost riley, soft!simon, Oxford and Lincoln college are mentioned

read on ao3 | masterlist | send a request

I. MARCH

Simon felt a small bump when he turned away from the register, and then a swear. He turned and saw a woman staring up at him, eyes wide. Coffee dripped down her hand and onto the floor, her mug half empty. This café was too damn small, and he was too damn broad. 

The woman glanced at the ground at the puddle and frowned. Simon’s heart hurt a bit at her defeated sigh, and he tapped her arm. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, immediately cursing himself for the lame apology. 

She looked up at him again with her sparkling eyes and shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

An American, he noted. And a pretty one, at that. 

He shook his head, suddenly warm under the balaclava. “No, no.” He jerked his head back to the register and pulled out his wallet. “Here, let me buy you a new one.”

She gave him a weak smile, obviously intimidated. “Sir, really, it’s okay— “

“Stop, love. Let me get this sorted.”

He stepped up to the register and asked the barista what she’d ordered, and the barista put it in. Simon paid and turned back around to the woman. A gentle smile teased her gorgeous lips, and Simon couldn’t help but smile a bit himself. Before he could get another word in, his order was called—four coffees, one for each of the 141—and he was rushing out the door into the rainy March day. 

II. MAY

Soap was relentless. Pint in hand, he was swaggering up to any woman in the tiny pub, seeing if any of them would bite. Gaz sat next to him, making him shake his head with jokes about Soap. The Scot was standing at the bar chatting up a girl, and Simon’s heart stopped when he saw the woman standing next to her. 

It was the girl from the coffee shop—the one he'd bumped into over two months ago. She wore a simple but sexy outfit—one that turned heads. It certainly turned his. He shook his head when she covered her pretty mouth after Soap made a terrible joke that was timed completely wrong. Gaz commented on it, but Simon didn’t hear it; he was too focused on gathering the strength to speak to the mystery woman. 

“I’ll be back,” he said gruffly to Gaz, rising to his feet and striding over to the woman. She noticed him when he stood at Soap’s side and looked directly at him, her eyes widening. 

“I-It’s you,” she gasped. To his surprise, she smiled. “You’re the guy who ruined my coffee!”

“And promptly bought you a new one, love—don’t forget that.” He gripped his drink tighter. “Didn’t forget me though, did’ya?”

She giggled at his quick retort. “How could I forget such a clumsy, handsome man?”

She remembered him after all that time. And she thought he was handsome. 

He stammered and Soap laughed before he could get any words out. Simon glared at him when the Scottish man clapped him on the back.

“I’ll leave’ya to it, lad,” he chittered, the woman he’d been chatting up following him away.

Simon stared at her and drank in her beauty. He noticed how she shifted under his gaze, how her eyes darted between his and the floor. The pub’s music seemed to fade into the background and echo as he took her in, noticing the way her outfit defined her delicious curves, the way her hand seemed to clench her drink when her eyes met his and stayed.

He broke the awkward silence. “Not afraid I’m gonna spill your drink again, are you, love?”

She laughed, the sound of it like gentle, tinkling bells. “No. I guess I just didn’t realize how—” she waved a hand up and down—“tall you are.”

He felt his cheeks redden. “The mask ain’t scarin’ you?”

“I’ve seen worse.” She took a sip of her drink, licking her lips.

“Like what, love?” He asked, leaning against the wooden counter.

“A 200-page book written in Britain from the 14th century.”

He chuckled, and she smiled up at him. “You’re right, lass—that’s far scarier than a mask.”

“Compared to that, you aren't scary at all.” 

“Care to give me your name, then?” She told him, and he repeated it, letting the sound linger on his lips. “That’s lovely.”

“And yours?”

“Simon.”

She smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Simon.”

His chest warmed at the sound of her voice saying his name. Simon finished his drink, closing his eyes. When he opened them again to set the empty cup on the counter, she was staring up at him, something sultry in her expression.

“You know, you have really nice eyes.”

“You think so, sweetheart?”

She nodded and took a step closer. Simon’s heart quickened. He could smell her perfume—something sweet and seductive—and took a deep inhale, hoping to etch it into his memory and be reminded of her every time he got a whiff of something even remotely like it.

“I’d love to see them up close.”

Simon’s eyes crinkled. “That could be arranged, love.”

III. JUNE

In Early June, Simon asked to take leave from late June through mid-August. It had only been two weeks since he’d met her at the pub, and one since they’d met again randomly in a café. After that incident, he knew he needed to see her as much as he could. Price had given him a quizzical look, a thick brown eyebrow quirked as he read the papers. He’d stared at Simon, making him feel small standing in front of his captain’s desk. 

“This important to you, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.”

Price had sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’ll see what Laswell has to say.”

Simon had nodded and left his office. 

One week later, his request had been approved, and he was packing his things to return to his flat.

His leave now approved, Simon was hoping he’d be able to convince her to stay in England just a while longer after she graduated from Oxford—the smart lass getting her Masters—and he’d been successful. 

She agreed after their date to some random bookstore that ended with her in his bed. Simon laughed when she confessed that she’d already broken the news to her family in the States that she was staying through the summer the day after they met again in early June by accident in a small café. 

“Awfully confident, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

She playfully shoved his bare, sweaty chest, her own body slick and shiny post-orgasm. 

“Don’t try me, Simon,” she scolded, her small smile betraying her attempt at a threat. “I can always get on a plane tomorrow.”

“We both know that ain’t true, love.” He dropped down to lay next to her on his side, running his hand down her torso and up again, watching her shiver.

“I can and will!” She exclaimed, hiding her growing smile under one of her delicate hands.

Simon pulled it away and kissed her, groaning when she placed her hand on his cheek. How he craved his lover’s touch. Just one taste was all it took.

IV. JULY

“Simon, English flats are not made for heat,” she muttered, fanning herself with a stack of papers. “Especially yours.”

He chuckled. She sat on the other side of his small couch, knees slightly spread apart, cotton shorts riding up her soft thighs. She gave him a shake of the head, rolling her eyes. 

“You’re the one who chose to extend her stay into the summer, love. Not me.”

“I’d say you sealed the deal back when I ran into you in that café near Lincoln and you put the moves on me.” She looked over at him, a few baby strands of hair stuck to her sweaty brow. She looked lovely, even when she was sweating from a heat wave. 

Simon smirked at her, raising his eyebrow. “Is that so?”

She bit her lip and set the papers down on his dingy coffee table, scooting closer to him. Her sticky skin touched his, and she touched his shin with her toes. He ran a finger along her jawline, leaning down to catch her lips with his, the sweat on his brow running down his temples as he got even hotter when she placed her hand on his thigh, ghosting over the hem of his short cotton underpants, finally coming to rest over his crotch. She pulled back and smiled up at him, running her hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch; he craved it, had been craving it ever since he’d seen her in May and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and she tugged him in to kiss his lips. In that moment, she’d sealed his fate. Simon was greedy for her, always needing her.

He still hid things from her—all she knew about his job was that he was military, but nothing specific—and always redirected any conversations that could lead to him discussing his past. Maybe he’d let her in one day. For now, he wanted to enjoy this—her skin on his, her tongue in his mouth, her scent lingering in his bed and mixing with his. Simon forgot everything when he was with her, choosing to bask in her glow instead. She blasted away the darkness within him with her radiance, gave him relief from his torments when she held him. 

He clicked his tongue when she gave his already-hardening cock a soft squeeze. “Don’t go teasin’ me unless you’re ready for the consequences,” he warned.

She straddled him, pressing her thin cotton tank top to his bare chest. His eyes fluttered close when she placed her hands on his cheeks, tapping her fingers. She kissed him again and Simon placed his hand at the base of her skull, the other gripping her waist. He felt her pull back and breathe against his mouth, something light and needy.

“Choices have consequences,” she said simply. “And I’m ready to face them.”

Simon shook his head and grabbed the underside of her thighs and rose to his feet, smiling when she squealed. He carried her to the bedroom and set her on his bed, letting her rest on her back and kissing her smiling lips once more.

He'd never been happier to have ruined someone’s drink.

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#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #call of duty fic #call of duty #cod mw fanfiction #gentleman!simon riley #that's the hill I'll die on tbh #flirting with ghost #meet cute #slow burn #my fic

[rubysunnday]

Summer of '16

requested by @freyathehuntress: Hii I love your stories and I don't really have a specific request but can you do a Bridgerton sister story? Maybe her siblings being overprotective Because although she is not the youngest she's like the most "positive, believe in ppl type" happy ending tho...... I mean angst would be great too... anything really

requested by anon: Hi! Can i request a bridgerton!sis fic where reader met her love match and her siblings (esp the bros) immediately go in overprotective mode

requested by anon: Hiii!!! Can I request a piece with Violet comforting bridgerton!sis after a heartbreak? Just that mother warmth we could all use in our lives lol!! Maybe a soft Benedict could help, too 🤗 Love love love your writing!

requested by anon: can we pleaseeee have a benedict x bridgerton sibling reader fic???

a/n: four requests with one fic look at me go. ALSO, for the sake of storytelling everyone's name now begins with an E, alright

summary: the summer of 1816 was one of the best and worst of Y/N Bridgerton's life

Everything was incredibly sparkly. The dresses glittered in the candlelight and there were so many beautiful colours in one room. Y/N bit her lips, trying not to make her excitement obvious as she stepped into the room. She gripped Anthony's arm tightly, her eyes wide as she stared around in awe.

"This is beautiful," Y/N breathed, her mouth falling open. "The flowers, the food - oh my, is that an ice sculpture?"

Violet linked her arm with Y/N's. "You seem excited, dearest. One's first ball is always an exciting time. Daphne was much the same."

Anthony slid his arm out of his sister's, squeezing her hand as he did so. "We shall leave you two be, I do not want to ruin the fun."

Y/N beamed at him as he and Benedict walked away, heading straight for the refreshment table.

"So, what happens now? Do I just wait?" Y/N asked quietly, letting her mother slowly lead her around the room.

"You wait until someone comes over and asks you for a dance," Violet explained. "He will write his name on your card and then that dance will be his. It starts off slowly but once one man makes his move, the others will follow."

Y/N nodded, listening to her mother's every word. As excited as she was for her first official ball, there was a seed of doubt and anxiety beginning to bloom inside her. Being the diamond of the season came with expectations - expectations that Y/N wasn't sure she could live up to.

Violet nudged Y/N's arm gently and nodded at the other side of the room. Y/N followed her mother's gaze and felt the excitement return as Mr William walked across the room, towards her.

"Lady Bridgerton," Mr William greeted, bowing to Violet.

"Mr William, it is a delight to see you again," Violet said, smiling at him. This is my daughter, Y/N, as I'm sure you know."

Mr William straightened up and turned to Y/N. He took her hand in his, holding it gently. "Miss Bridgerton."

Y/N tried to keep her composure as he kissed her hand, feeling it through the silk material of her gloves. "Mr William."

"Miss Bridgerton, I would be honoured if I could be your first dance of the evening," Mr William said, releasing her hand.

Y/N took a deep breath in, trying not to show him how excited she truly was. "You may, my lord."

Mr William bowed to Violet and then held out his hand to Y/N. She placed her gloved hand in his and let him lead her onto the dance floor, trusting him to guide her every step.

"I must admit," Y/N said softly, "I am a little nervous."

"Don't be," Mr William said, placing his hand on her waist, his other on her elbow. "I've got you."

Y/N felt something shift down in her stomach and she fought to keep the grin off her face. The music began, the strings playing gently into the packed ballroom, and she took one step forward, allowing Mr William to take her where she needed to go.

Violet watched on with a fond smile. It was hard watching your children grow up, but the little moments made it all the better.

"Who is she dancing with?"

Violet glanced at her eldest son, an amused smile appearing. "Mr William - he's just returned from America."

"So, he is new in town?"

"Anthony, dearest, why do I feel as if you are going to interrogate him?"

Anthony straightened up, looking at his mother. "I have simply never heard of him before."

"His father is the Viscount Rochdale."

"Oh, I was not aware the old bastard had a son -"

"Anthony, watch your language."

"Apologies, mother." Anthony sighed, watching his baby sister dance. "When did she grow up?"

"I know, dearest," Violet said, putting her arm through his. "This is always the hardest part."

"Who is she dancing with?" Benedict asked, joining his brother.

Violet tried not to roll her eyes at the two sons. "Mr William - he is a very respectable gentleman and I will not have the two of you scaring him off."

Y/N was completely oblivious to her brother's watchful gaze, She was besotted with Mr William as he spun her around the dance floor, smiling at her the entire time.

"I do hope you don't mind me asking this but I was hoping to get to know your family a bit better," Mr William said.

Y/N looked slightly surprised. "May I ask why?"

"I have heard a lot about you and them through rumour and gossip sheet. Everyone seems to be in agreement that you are one of the most loving families in the ton."

"Well, I, mean, we just... like one another," Y/N replied. "I honestly do not know what I would do without my family. I understand that I am very privileged to have a family that cares for me as much as they do."

"I have met your brothers Benedict and Colin but not Lord Bridgerton -"

"Ah, well, good luck for when you do," Y/N said, chuckling. "He is very protective over all of us - understandably so. But he is lovely underneath his gruffness."

"And your sisters? I understand one is now a duchess. You will have to forgive me, time away in America means I missed a lot -"

"Oh, do not worry. Yes, my eldest sister Daphne is a duchess. She married the Duke of Hastings and they have one child, a son, Auggie, together. There was a lot of drama involved there - not that you needed to know that," Y/N added, cringing slightly as she rambled.

"I shall not ask, do not worry. What about your other sisters? I hear Miss Eloise also made her debut this year."

"Well, yes, since she is my twin - not many people realise that. They think we are simply eleven months apart, not sure why. Eloise is not too happy about being out - she thinks the whole idea of marriage is an outdated custom. She is quite happy to become a spinster."

Mr William laughed and Y/N ducked her head, trying to hide her stupid smile.

"She sounds fantastic," he said, no hint of a joke in his voice.

"Yes," Y/N said softly, "yes, she is. I adore her. Well, I adore all my sisters. Francesca and Hyacinth were delighted to help me get ready for tonight - they're my younger sisters."

"There are so many of you!"

"Well, if it helps, we are named alphabetically," Y/N said, stepping backwards. "From A to G with two E's in the middle."

Mr William chuckled, spinning Y/N around. "That does help, I thank you."

The music came to an end and Y/N curtsied to him as he bowed to her. She couldn't stop smiling, even as her heart raced from the dance.

"Miss Bridgerton, would I be able to call upon you tomorrow?" He asked as he walked her off the dance floor.

Y/N looked at him, her smile growing. "Of course, Mr William. I would be delighted."

"Oh, one more question, I do apologise," Mr William said, stopping Y/N as she turned to go. "Would your family appreciate flowers?"

"Everyone but Eloise would - I think she would rather prefer a new quill," Y/N said jokingly.

"I see," Mr William said quietly. He bowed again. "Miss Bridgerton."

"Lady Bridgerton, there is a Mr William here for Miss Y/N."

Violet nearly dropped her cup of tea. "Oh, let him up, Mrs Wilson." She turned to Y/N, who was innocently sewing next to Benedict. "You did not tell me he was going to call upon you."

"I am almost certain I did, mama," Y/N replied, setting her sewing aside as she stood up. She walked over to the other end of the room and sat down on the empty sofa, smoothing her dress out. "He asked, I accepted."

"Yes, but dearest -"

"Mr William, ma'am," Mrs Wilson said, cutting Violet off mid-sentence.

"Lady Bridgerton," Mr William said, bowing to her. He was holding a very impressive bouquet of flowers - all different shades of white and pink. "I thank you for accepting me into your home. These are for you."

The bouquet he was holding turned out to be smaller bouquets of flowers of roughly six of seven flowers. Violet took the offered flowers and smiled at him, instantly won over.

"Mr William, thank you, these are lovely," Violet said, welcoming him in.

"I also brought some more Miss Francesca and Miss Hyacinth," Mr William said, turning to the other side of the room where the two girls were sat, trying to look busy but failing.

"Oh, that is very generous of you, Mr WIlliam," Violet said, slightly stunned by the man's kindness.

"And for Miss Eloise, I bought a set of new quills since I heard you do not like flowers."

Eloise looked up from her book. "You bought me a present?"

"Eloise, what do we say?" Violet chided softly.

"I apologise, thank you, Mr William," Eloise said, standing up and accepting the quills. "These are beautiful, thank you."

"You are welcome to sit over there, Mr William," Violet said, gesturing to the empty sofa where Y/N was. "And please help yourself to tea."

Y/N sat down as Mr William joined her, sitting next to her, a small distance between them.

"When you asked about flowers last night, I did not realise what you were up to!" Y/N exclaimed, keeping her voice quiet.

"I have always felt it odd that suitors turn up with gifts for the lady they want to woo but nothing for anyone else. I have always tried to make a good impression with any lady's family."

"Well, I think it worked," Y/N said, leaning past him to see her sisters admiring their flowers and quills. "I do, however, think you will have a harder time impressing my brothers."

"I expect nothing less, Miss Bridgerton," Mr William said, smiling. "I would be concerned, otherwise."

Y/N found herself smiling back at him, her face heating up. "I was thinking of going on a promenade today... would you like to come with me? We would be chaperoned, of course."

"I think that a wonderful idea," Mr William replied.

"Mama, is it alright if Mr William and I go for a promenade? I can ask Rose to chaperone us," Y/N said, looking over at her mother hopefully.

"Of course, dearest."

Y/N looked back at Mr William with slight surprise. "You truly have won her over," she said, giggling.

Hyde Park was quiet. The colder weather was the main reason - it was an overcast, dark day and anyone with any reason was indoors, hiding away.

But Y/N and Mr William were enjoying a squirt stroll through the woods with Y/N's maid.

"I do apologise for being so absent," Y/N said, stepping over a branch. "See, Anthony decided to marry this season and everyone has been in a state trying to find a match for him. And then when he finally decided on a woman, her older sister did not approve -"

"It sounds very chaotic," Mr William said, laughing.

"I fear I have slipped through the cracks, slightly," Y/N admitted. "I am not likely to act out unlike Eloise, therefore I am left to my own devices. I could probably go rob a bank and no one would notice." She sighed. "I honestly do not know what I thought my season would look like, but I do not think it resembled this."

"I understand. My father does not even know I am in the country he cares so little."

"I do love my brother, honestly I do -"

"I never doubted that -"

" - but he just makes life so bloody difficult for himself!" Y/N exclaimed.

Mr William burst out laughing, throwing his head back. "Oh, Miss Bridgerton, you do amuse me."

Y/N grinned. "Please, call me Y/N. I think we're past titles."

Mr William nodded, looking back at her, his face serious. "Of course, Y/N. In that case, you should call me Kieron, please."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kieron."

"And you, Y/N."

Everything had suddenly gotten so confusing and chaotic. One moment Anthony was marrying Edwina and the next he was about to kiss Kate, the wedding was cancelled and they found themselves embroiled in scandal.

And then Eloise was hit with her own scandal. All Y/N wanted to do was fall in love.

"Room for one more?"

Y/N looked down from her spot up in the tree house. Benedict looked up at her, holding a lighter and a case of cigarettes.

"Always," she replied, shifting away from the ladder.

Benedict clambered up and sat down next to her, letting his legs dangle off the edge. He handed Y/N a cigarette and she took it, rolling it between her fingers.

"Is Eloise ok?" She asked quietly.

Benedict shrugged, putting his cigarette between his lips. "She has locked herself in her room. I was going to check on her tomorrow, to be honest." He lit his cigarette, watching her intently. "This is not your fault, sister."

"I know, I just... as her twin, I feel like I should have stopped it. Because obviously, I knew. Yet, I let it happen."

"There is no stopping Eloise when she wants something." Benedict handed the lighter to Y/N. "How are you?"

"I do not know," she admitted. "Worried for Anthony. Upset for Kate. Annoyed at Eloise and society in general." She sighed, tilting her head back. "I do not know what I thought this season was going to be but this was not it."

Benedict hummed in agreement. "Does anyone else know?"

"About Kieron? No, not fully. I mentioned it to Daphne and Simon but everyone else has been so busy with their own lives... sorry, that was really -"

"No, it is fine. You are allowed to be upset, Y/N. I know you always try and see the good in everything and everyone but, sometimes, there is no good. It's just all shit."

"I just, for once, wanted the attention on me," Y/N whispered. "Not all of it just... I wanted people to talk about whether I would marry Mr Wiliam or not and instead, all I have got is my twin sister sneaking out to see a newsboy."

Benedict nodded, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Do you think he will propose?"

Y/N smiled sadly, sniffing. "No. Because he is returning to America next week. The Featherington ball is the last time I will see him. We spoke at length the other day - he came around to check how we were all doing after Kate's accident - and he decided to return to America, away from his father. He has some more growing up to do, first. And I think I do too."

"That is a very mature response," Benedict said softly. "Knowing you are not yet ready."

"I know." Y/N inhaled shakily, rolling the cigarette between her fingers. "Yet that does not stop it hurting like hell."

Benedict smiled sadly, his eyes full of sympathy. He put an arm around Y/N's shoulders and she leaned into him, closing her eyes.

"It never stops it hurting," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "No matter how hard you try."

"Mr William."

"Miss Bridgerton."

The two stared at one another. Y/N knew this was going to happen - their final dance, together, for a long time. She had spent the season getting to know him better and falling in love with him more and more each day.

She had never been able to imagine herself as a wife before. But with Kieron, she knew she would be safe.

"Miss Bridgerton, may I have this dance?" Mr William, Kieron, asked, holding out a hand.

Y/N swallowed thickly. She glanced around the room, seeing her family all occupied with other people, paying her no attention.

"You may, Mr William."

Y/N took his hand and held on to it for dear life as he walked her to the centre of the room. They had not even danced yet and already her eyes were burning with unshed tears.

"I am sorry," Kieron said softly.

Y/N looked up at him, blinking furiously. "I understand, Kieron, truly, I do. We both need to grow up, first. And I admire you for knowing that and not forcing yourself into something you would regret."

Kieron smiled at her, his eyes sad. "Thank you for understanding. I know that doesn't make this easier -"

"It was never going to be easy," Y/N said quietly. "But we have this moment, to make a memory that will last us a lifetime."

Kieron stepped forward and took her in his arms - one hand on her waist, the other on her elbow.

Benedict was watching his sister the moment she stepped onto the dance floor - her hand in Mr Williams. He could see the longing in both their eyes - the need to hold one another close.

Deciding to leave must not have been an easy decision, but he admired them both for making it.

For Y/N, it was as if time had stopped entirely. Her entire focus was on Kieron. She didn't care that everyone was watching, she didn't care what anyone thought.

She just wanted five more minutes with him.

It was as if for the first time all season, the rest of the ton were finally noticing Miss Bridgerton and Mr William's connection. They had been so absorbed with the Sharma's, that they'd missed what was directly in front of them.

Y/N felt her chest begin to tighten as the song ended. She held onto Kieron's hand until she could no longer and let go, turning and walking away first.

The carriage ride back to Bridgerton House was quiet. Y/N sat next to her mother, staring wistfully out the window.

"Dearest, I have to ask... are you and Mr William -"

"No. Well, not anymore," Y/N said quietly, turning her head to face her mother. "Through the season we were courting one another. But we came to the conclusion that we both had some growing up to do before we went any further. He is returning to America."

Violet gasped softly, her face full of sympathy. "Oh, darling, I am sorry. If I had known, if I had paid attention -"

"Your attention was where it should have been, mama," Y/N said quietly, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "With Anthony. I will be fine." Y/N paused, the words catching in her throat. "I always am."

Y/N found herself in her mother's arms moments later, sobbing. She clung to her mother as she cried, letting every emotion and every bit of heartache out. It had been the best summer because she had spent every bit of it with someone she loved.

And even the pain she felt now wasn't going to ruin the memories of those perfect nights, dancing together in the candlelight.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton!sister #bridgerton sis #platonic #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton sister #bridgerton!sis imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader

[omgkatherine01]

By Your Side

Summary: You and Aemond have been friends since you started university, until one day he tries to push you out of his life, but you wouldn't let him until he tells you why.

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

He's ignoring me

That's what you kept thinking as you hung up your phone after trying to call your friend, Aemond Targaryen.

Everything was fine until three days ago when he said he was going for the weekend to visit his family. Three years of friendship, he never really talked about them. You only knew he has his parents and four siblings, two brothers, a sister and a half sister.

But he doesn't talk about them much, except his big sister, Helaena, was the only one he spoke about with love and care.

The two of you didn't became friends right away that was for sure. You did noticed him first when you only got to university. He was quiet, but very handsome.

He hasn't noticed you at all until a few days after you got there when there was an assignment, and you made the first move to ask him to pair up with you. You thought he wouldn't, but to your surprise he agreed, much to the annoyance of some of the girls in the class.

Since then, the two of you started to talk more, and you both formed a friendship. Aemond was caring, and nice, and definitely a gentleman.

And now, since he came back, he became distant, and now he wasn't talking to you or answering your calls or texts. You tried to speak to him during your classes together, but nothing.

"It's been three days, and he's been ignoring me," You told your sister over the phone as you walked to your apartment door.

"You should go to him, and ask for an explanation," she said, "I mean, you don't just stop been friends after a weekend with your family."

You sighed, a little nervous without realizing, "I--I don't know, I mean... maybe he just... maybe he just got tired of me, you know? I'm that nerd who everyone don't like to hang around with, and only be around for homework and--"

"Oh, shut up," she said, "If you going to talk about yourself like that, I'm going to drive over to your place and kick your ass."

You let out a soft chuckle and opened the front door. You closed it behind you and placed your bag down on the floor. "Now give him a call, and if he won't answer, leave a message, demand him to call you and met up," your sister said, "And you call me after."

You nodded, "Okay, yeah."

"Good, love you," she said.

You smiled a little, "Love you too." You hung up and looked at your phone, debating if to do as she said. You took a deep breath and called Aemond again, and as you thought, he didn't answer, so you left a messege.

"Hey, it's me... again." You rubbed your forehead and frowned a little, sad as you continued, "Look, I... I don't know why you pushing me away like that without telling me what I did wrong, so... I just... hope you can call me back and just..." You let out a sigh, "Just talk to me, Aemond. Don't push me away without an explanation." You bit your lower lip before you continued softly, "If you just don't want to be friends anymore, I'll--I'll understand..." I wouldn't want to be friends with me, either, you thought to yourself sadly. "So just tell it to my face."

You didn't knew what else to say, so you just hung up. You felt lost for the first time in three years. And sad.

Since the second year, you finally realized that what you felt for Aemond was more than friendship, you really liked him.

But you never said or implied that you liked him more than a friend, you were afraid he didn't feel the same, and you would lose him forever.

But, maybe now, you did.

-

"If you just don't want to be friends anymore, I'll--I'll understand."

After hearing your voicemail, Aemond dropped everything he was doing and drove to your apartment.

He thought he was doing the right thing, pushing you out from his life because of his hard time controlling himself from anger issues because of his family, especially his big brother Aegon. But hearing your voice, full of sadness, all because of him, you were right... he needed to speak to you.

You ate dinner at your apartment, and when there was a knock on the door, you were surprised since you weren't expecting anyone. You walked to the front door and frowned as you peered to see who it was.

You opened the door, surprised to see it was Aemond. "Hey," you said, confused was heard in your voice.

"Hey," he said and leaned against the frame. "I, uh... I heard your voicemail."

You nodded a little and waited, but he didn't say anything. "Aren't you going to say it?" you asked.

He seemed to know what you meant, and instead asked something else, "Can I come in?"

You hesitated but stepped aside. He walked in and you closed the door.

You turned to him and followed him to the living room. "Well?" you asked.

Aemond turned to you and leaned on the arm of your couch. He stared at you as he kept his hands on his jacket pockets. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For ignoring me?" you muttered as you crossed your arms over your chest. He nodded and looked down on the floor. You uncrossed your arms and stepped closer until your knees touched his. "Aemond," you said softly and placed your fingers under his chin to lift his head up.

He stared up at you.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, "Why were you pushing me away?"

"Because I love you."

You froze when he said those words.

"What?" you asked softly.

Aemond moved his hands from his pockets as he stared at you and placed his hands on your hips. He took a shaky breath and looked back at you. "I love you," he confessed.

"I don't want to be friends, I want to be more. But, I..."

You let your feet move you closer to him, and you stood between his legs and placed your hands on his shoulders. "I don't deserve you," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" you asked softly and placed your hands on his cheeks. He closed his eyes at your soft touch and licked his lips before speaking again as he opened his eyes.

"My weekend with my... family, it was a bad idea. I got angry, I almost lost all control of myself, and... when I came back, I was still angry. I pushed you away so you won't have to face me when I'm losing control of myself. I didn't want to scare you."

"Aemond," you said softly and made him look at you again. "You not going to scare me away. I want to be by your side, no matter what. Because I love you."

Aemond stared at you and pulled you softly closer. He moved his hand from your hip to up to your face, caressing your cheek. He moved his hand to the back of your head, pulling your face closer.

You tilted your head and pressed your lips against his. He pulled your face closer, kissing you passionately.

You kissed him back with passion of your own for a long moment, until you pulled your lips from his, both of you breathing heavily. You pressed your forehead against his, both of you closed your eyes, leaning in each other's touch.

"I love you," you said softly.

"I love you, too," he breathed out and placed his hands on your cheeks, pulling your lips back to his softly.

Taglist:

@thenovelcarnival, @mynameisbaby9, @carriellie, @parizparis, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @daddysfavoritesexkitten, @uselessbutinteresting, @hc-geralt-23, @babyblue-chaos, @azaleapotterblack, @hydrationqueensworld, @firefirevampire, @burningshewolf, @literishdegree99, @xinyourdreamsx, @daerizzys, @tpwkstiles

#modern au #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #modern aemond targaryen x reader

[rowniebow]

Fic where Peter and reader are already dating and Peter is distant because of his obvious job which leaves reader hurt and angry and starts becoming distant and detached with Peter which causes Peter to get mad and then they fight and peter blurts out “are you cheating on me?” Which causes reader to get furious and start yelling which catches peter off guard and reader leaves, can take the story where you want past this. sorry if this is long and confusing or doesn’t make sense (Tom or andrews pete but you can do Tom if it really matters) ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

it can be okay | tom!peter parker x gn!reader

pairings: tom!peter parker x gn!reader

cw: littol bit o angst but not much

word count: 3.4k+

an: went with tom's because i've yet to write abt his peter but i feel like he was left with so much turmoil after no way home, his peter fits well with this prompt...... ANYWAY thank you so much for requesting and i apologize for my absence, esp if u were waiting around for this ! i appreciate you, please stay safe! sry 4 long an

masterlist

⭒

you felt an arm wrap around your waist. warmth and pressure spread over your back. you flipped around to wrap your own arms around the man that had climbed into bed with you.

"sorry," his breath found its way to your ear and pulled the hair on your spine up. his quiet whisper held gravel in the smooth concrete of his voice. "did i wake you up?"

"yeah, i'm glad."

"oh, good. i'm glad i woke you, too. get more time to hear your voice."

you hummed, sleep fighting your coherent words.

"how was your day?"

"it was fine. i missed you for our movie night."

petter stuttered out several different sounds, none of them making any real words.

your eyebrows twitched at his struggle.

"i-i'm so sorry, sweetheart, i completely forgot. i-i-i-i got so caught up with homework i didn't even think... it's that stupid biology class! i always have so much reading to do for it.

"yeah, it's okay," you moved closer to him, desperate for as much of his warmth as possible. "school is more important than movies! let me know next time, though."

"of course," he kissed the top of your head. he lingered with an exaggerated 'mwah'. "i'm so sorry, sweetheart."

you hummed and slurred out a reassurance.

"go back to sleep now, sweets."

and it was okay.

⭒⭒

everything was so much louder when he wasn’t around.

the fridge’s song sung by instruments of kinetic energy hummed at the back of your head. the calm air against the glass window was practically visible with how loud it was. the dust that settled on the marble kitchen countertops and sunk it’s way into the fabric of your couch crunched and stretched the fibers of the masses. you couldn’t seem to turn the television up much higher than seven (you hoped the number might bring you luck to bring the man home).

sure, he’s missed nights that were supposed to be set aside for you two and his favorite star wars films. yes, you’ve noticed how he’s missed more than a few fairly important tests for his classes, causing him to fail (he was beginning to fall fairly far behind in his degree, but you weren’t going to comment on that. not yet, anyway).

but, he’d yet to miss out on a date.

he had yet to leave you waiting at your favorite shitty twenty-four hour diner in the middle of new york that was a forty minute walk from your apartment.

you wouldn’t deny to anyone other than peter that it bothered you a bit. your lip was raw and crumbs from a sad, newly empty plate of fries dusted your nicest clothes that you had put on just for him. your eyes wore heavy bags from how late you stayed up in hope that maybe he was just running a bit late.

however, when a bit late had become two in the morning, you gave up hope on that.

you looked outside at the nearly visible air and listened to the chill of the early morning crack at your window after you arrived back at your empty apartment at nearly three in the morning. you listened to the distant wind against the quickly moving vehicles. you listened to the retreating caw from a bird that didn’t sound like any you’d heard before. you listened to the dust float through the air and the television hum despite it being off. you listened to the deafening silence of the room and your mind.

cold three in the morning apartment air hit the back of your throat as you brought as much of the toxic oxygen into your lungs as you possibly could, and released it to be filtered and given to some other poor abandoned soul.

it was okay.

you understood his forgetful habits. you understood why he slept in and took so many naps. he has a lot on his plate. juggling school, and work, and the family issues that he’s mentioned from time to time.

it is okay.

maybe next time.

⭒⭒⭒

waking up alone after a warm night with peter seemed to hurt more than the missing arrangements.

the apartment's chill leaked under the blankets and burned your skin until you awoke. the emptiness of the space next to you in your bed was a sad physical representation of the emptiness in your gut.

the hole in your stomach that you awake with absorbs all the cereal you eat and leaves you feeling hungry for the rest of the day. it absorbs your joy and hope. it absorbs the warmth in your body (and especially in your smile).

your days are filled with sighs when you wake up with the hole of peter. with those deep exhales, you hope to breath out whatever haunts your stomach.

it sticks with you until the end of the day when you fall asleep alone. peter will climb in after you in the depths of the night and the ocean of your sheets. he'll whisper sweet nothings into your ear. he'll apologize if need be. he'll pepper you with kisses and hold you close.

and you'll be okay.

then he'll do it all over again.

⭒⭒⭒⭒

it just so happened to be next time.

he promised to make the last time up to you and promised to see you the next friday night for dinner.

so there you sat, leg bouncing under the table at a restaurant that was all too fancy for your taste but peter had insisted on.

you were on your third glass of an odd color wine (that really didn’t even taste good) and you were nearing the second hour of waiting.

“would you like to order yet, sir?” the waiter asked for the fifth time that night.

perhaps it was the alcohol that brought a sting to your eyes when you checked the time on your phone. but you smiled and shook your head and asked for the check instead.

looking at the number on the check, you nearly sobbed at how much three glasses of wine cost you. but you sighed and gave an eighty percent tip anyway as reparations for the waiter having to pity you all night. you almost sobbed, again, when you could hear a couple that had gotten there after you comment to one another about how long you’d been there.

cheeks warm with embarrassment, you made your way back to your apartment. the chill of the late night spring mildly helped cool you down.

the pity in the waiter's eyes and the couple's comments haunted you all the way home. only when you undressed into your sleep clothes and climbed under the covers could you manage to excuse peter's actions.

peter must have simply gotten caught up in homework. he must have just fallen asleep.

it's okay.

perhaps he got the days mixed up and forgot it was friday. or he got his hours for work wrong and he ended up having to work.

it is okay.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

you truly didn’t mean to lean away from his kiss when peter tried to wish you goodbye that evening.

but you did.

you leaned away as if it were a stranger that was trying to kiss you. you truly didn’t mean to. you also knew that you truly felt as though it was a stranger trying to kiss you, though.

you knew it hurt him. quite honestly it hurt you, too. whether it was the pain in his features that hurt you or the fact that you felt that way.

either way, your actions hurt the both of you, and you knew you should apologize. you nearly did right then and there.

"are you cheating on me?" the quiet whispers of words that he choked out hit you like lightning. the frown in his lips and the way he avoided your eyes made your heart crack before you could process the words he spoke. his broken voice distracted you from the content it delivered.

you felt your eyebrows pull together at first. you felt the apology creep in your throat and nearly spill out.

his hurt was a new language for you to learn. it forced you to think over each word and remember the meaning of it similar to how you did in spanish class in high school.

and as the syllables set in and your brain wrapped itself through the vowels and consonants, you scoffed. maybe even laughed.

did he really just say that? did he truly feel like he had the nerve to say that?

"am i cheating on you?" a glare made itself comfortable in your features.

it's not okay.

"...no?" peter’s stuttered, hesitant disagreement made his regret in his words clear. but how could you just brush over his accusation?

"peter parker, i should be asking you that question."

"wha-what do you mean?"

"you're the one who's hardly fucking here. you’re the one that’s left me waiting until the morning for you to come around. you’re the one who ‘forgets’ anytime we agree to hang out.”

it is not okay.

“i-i didn’t-,”

“‘you didn’t’ what? remember? show up?”

his silence was as loud as it is when he’s gone.

“where are you all day, peter?”

so

“where are you at night?”

fucking

“where are you right now. are you even here?”

loud.

“get out.”

“what? no - no, please, y/n, you gotta trust me on this.”

nothing is okay.

“i trusted you to be here!”

“i know, and i’m so sorry, but - ah - i can’t tell you. you just-just gotta trust me!”

“no, peter!”

“please, i’ll make it up to you, i swear!”

“you’ve had plenty of chances for that.”

“c’mon, y/n,”

“no! even if you’re not cheating on me, you obviously don’t have time for me!”

“i’ll make time for you,”

“you really should have already been doing that.”

“i’ll make more time for you!”

“you don’t get more time in a day, and you’re not getting anymore from me, parker. christ- are you going to leave?"

"no! y/n, please, let me make this right, i-i can't lose you, too."

"fuck. i will leave then, jesus!"

"what?"

you slipped your shoes on, ignoring his words.

peter called your name as you opened the door.

"goodnight, peter."

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

you stayed at your parents house for a couple nights then came back to your empty apartment. the silence wasn't as loud as it normally was, but the intensity of the emptiness, both in the apartment and in the pit of your stomach, made up for the lack of overbearing volume.

you went about your life for two whole weeks with that emptiness haunting you. not a word from peter. about anything.

you went to your classes, studied in your room, went to work, came back and went to sleep: the college dream.

you hardly even noticed two weeks had passed with the way you had just been floating through the days.

with your mind blank without the joy and excitement of peter parker in your life, you filled it with the words from your humanities textbook to prepare for a final.

the jiggling of your apartment doorknob cut through the sound of the words in your head. your eyes immediately went wide. the air became thick as you heard the door squeak open slowly but surely.

your breath was stuck in your throat, but you found it in you to pick up your heavy textbook to toss if you needed.

you listened to the door creek shut and click closed.

perhaps someone just mistook your apartment for their own? maybe a new neighbor who's mixing it up? you're sure it's just a simple mistake and not some horrible, evil, scary, stronger-than-you criminal who wants to steal the little bits of items you have. certainly they won't murder you brutally, or kidnap you and sell you.

certainly not, right?

your mind ran wild with what-if's and dangers of the situation. what else was there to do in the face of danger, though? hide under your blankets and hope they don't come in?

no, you'd at least like to look death in the face before you go.

that didn't stop your racing heart and shaking hands, of course.

so you crept around your door frame and down the small hall that lead to your tiny living room. you could hear the person rattling through your pots and pans.

you stood behind the corner, telling yourself it'd be fine.

you can do it. just go and ask what's going on. you're sure this is probably just some huge mix up.

"hah!" you huffed as you turn the corner and toss the heavy book at the person.

they immediately turn around and catch the flying pages. your heart drops to your stomach. your only weapon failed.

"y/n? i didn't know you were home!"

your heart manages to repair itself in your chest as the voice and face process in your mind. "peter?" you practically shriek. "what are you doing here?" a breath (that you were fully aware you had been holding) left your lungs, your hands finding their way to cover your face from the stress.

"i-i-i didn't know you'd be home, i'm sorry,"

"so you sneak into my apartment when i'm not home?" the glare you sent him reminded him how snappy you get when you're upset.

"no, no, no, no, no-!"

your questioning glare had him pause his denial.

"well, yes,"

you groaned.

"but listen!"

"i don't want to listen to you when you just broke into my house, peter!"

"well, the door was open-,"

another groan.

"okay, yeah, i can...see...that..."

"leave, peter!"

"wait, wait, wait! okay, listen," he took a deep breath. "i can explain myself-,"

"which part: when you forgot about me constantly or when you broke into my house?"

"all of it! i can explain and i just want you to know that i haven't been telling you for your own safety."

"what the fuck are you talking about?"

"just-just come with me."

"where?"

"it's a surprise!" his apologetic smile willed you to trust him.

you stared at him. his waves framed his face - his hair seemed to grow a lot in the last two weeks. his eyes were a whirlpool that sucked you in.

"jesus, peter." you shook your head, but found some shoes and a jacket to slip on anyway. the bright smile on peter's face made you want to forget about everything.

you followed him down the stairs to the quiet, three in the morning college town streets on a tuesday.

"how far away is it?" you asked. your eyes followed a plane as it blinked through the sky.

"kind of far," he moved in front of you to block your path. "but," he sung his vowel. "i know a quicker way to get there!"

"do we need to take the subway-?" you looked around, only for peter to wrap an arm around your waist. "what-?"

"it's going to be a little scary but you gotta trust me."

"what are you doing, pete?"

"you gotta hold on okay?" he guided your arms around his neck. "trust me, okay?" his sweet enchanting smile encouraged you to trust him despite everything. that didn't stop the groove between your brows from forming, though.

"what-?"

and you were in the air. screaming, obviously. you could hear his reassurance and apologies, willing you to keep holding on.

after several minutes of being in the air and coming to the consensus that you wouldn't fall even if you tried with peter's death grip on you, you took a glance around at your setting.

the street was far below you. cars and lights from down below smiled up and laughed at your fear. apartments on the thirtieth floors were eye level but passed so fast that you couldn't see who resided in them.

"isn't it nice?" peter whispered. he was your only lifeline; the only thing keeping you from falling to your death. "it's so peaceful up here." his quiet words didn't calm your racing heart or sooth your stressed features, but it brought you to stay present until your feet hit the solid ground again.

your legs shook you until your knees met the surface you stood on.

"sorry-,"

"what was that, parker?" you sparse breath made your voice come out as merely a squeak but peter knew all too well that you would be screaming at the top of your lungs if you could.

"it- well- i- uhm," the wind helped you push yourself off of your knees and back to sitting like a normal person rather than someone who thought their feet wouldn't ever touch the ground again. "i'm not really sure how to say this i-i-,"

"peter, i swear to god-,"

"i'm spider-man!" you looked up at his avoiding eyes that were as wide as yours. as if he couldn't believe he actually said that.

"excuse me?" you said after several moments of silence passed.

"i-i'm spider-man," his quiet voice was nearly drowned out by the blowing wind.

you laughed.

his eye brows came together in frustration. "why are you laughing?"

"you're not spider-man."

"i just swung us to the top of central park tower and you're going to deny that i'm spider-man?"

your smile slowly faded as you noticed where you were. that he was right. you were among the stars, the moon within inches of your fingers. the street glowed up at you, laughing once more. the usual honking screams from the cars could not be heard from how high you were. all you could hear was the growl of the wind and peter's shy voice.

"oh my god,"

"no-no, don't freak out!"

"i'm not freaking out, i never freak out. you're just spider-man and that's a thing and we're on top of the central park tower and i could totally fall right now but i'm not freaking out."

you were freaking out.

"doesn't spider-man have webs or something?"

peter stuck out his hand, and a white web came tumbling out after your hand that rested on the ground you still sat on. he tugged at the string that stuck itself to your hand and pulled you up with it. you stumbled into him, his hands steadying your shaking.

"that's insane."

"i know, and i'm so sorry. between juggling school and work and this, it's really difficult to keep track of everything. this doesn't have a schedule and gets in the way of you a lot more than i'd like it to."

"i-i guess i get why you didn't tell me."

a breath left through peter's lips. "i-i put together this as an apology, though." he motioned behind you to yet another thing you didn't notice throughout the stress of it all.

a blanket laid out with food from your favorite take out place scattered all over it. small electric candles flickered around the setting providing as the only light that wasn't coming from the city down below along with his laptop that was glowing and set up to browse through netflix for something to watch.

"i'm really sorry. i'm sorry i'm never there. i'm sorry it's taken me so long to see you again. i'm most of all sorry that i can't change it."

your eyes met his once again.

"if how i am is too much for you, i completely understand. you deserve someone who will treat you as good as you deserve and who will show up. but i want you to know that i miss you, and love you, and i will keep trying so hard to show up."

"you love me?"

"i-i-," peter's sure eyes suddenly fell to the floor and his hands found the back of his neck. "i mean, yeah," he stuttered. "but like it's okay, like, i get it, you know? i don't-,"

all the fears of being at the top of the central park tower and dating spider-man and what it means to date spider-man left you mind. all you could think about was how much you really did love peter despite his absent habits. maybe even more so now that you knew this huge secret and what that secret told about him as a person.

so you kissed him.

the heavenly feeling of his lips was something you didn't know you missed as much as you did. as soon as your lips met, tears pricked themselves at your eyes but you refused to let them fall.

you were okay.

peter was okay.

you were both okay.

it was all okay.

⭒ taglist ⭒

@fadedver @1ischai @djmalik52 @garlicforthewin @cryinked @armand0alg0 @softboi14

please dm me if you would like to be taken off of the taglist

#male reader #x male reader #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!peter parker #tom peter parker #tom!peter x reader #tom!peter parker x male reader #tom!spiderman #tom!spiderman x gender neutral reader #tom!peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker #peter parker x gn reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #tom!spiderman x male reader #gender neutral mc #gn #gn!reader #x gn reader #peter parker x gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral

[notiddygxthgf]

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 !

synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband.)

pairings: wakasa imaushi x f!reader, light takeomi x reader content warning: smut (esp this chapter) porn with plot, car sex, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, sexual tension, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse. word count: 7.1k authors note: can I just say... thank you all so much for all of your comments, reblog and support. It makes me so happy to see my writing has so many people hooked! sorry for the wait, just wanted to make it perfect for you all hehe <3 stay tuned for the next chapter! as always, comment suggestions ;)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight

WAKASA NEARLY FELL FORWARD from the force of your kiss. He detached – albeit very briefly – to smile against your lips. He pressed forward for another kiss, much more passionately this time. His tongue swiftly entered your mouth, and with it came a deep, guttural chuckle. His grip on your thighs tightened momentarily before you felt yourself being lifted off of the toilet altogether. 

The gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden movement was swallowed up by Wakasa’s kisses. He teetered slightly before throwing your legs over his hips. It felt different this time, the way his lips danced against yours – sucking and licking in a way that had your head spinning. It felt like he was starving for more, even though he was eating you alive as it was.

You hadn’t realized he had begun walking with you wrapped around his waist until you felt the exposed skin on your back collide with the ice-cold bathroom wall. Holy fuck, okay, this was happening quickly. You shuddered at the unexpected contact, throat suddenly constricted by his warm hand. It was unexpected, it was dirty, but you would be lying if you said the feeling didn’t shoot right down to the growing warmth between your legs. You weren’t complaining, not when you could feel the heat of his core pressing right into yours, big and hard.

Bringing your hands over his shoulders and around his neck, you tangled your trembling fingers in his bicolored tresses. His grip on your neck tightened in response as he tilted your head to get a better angle into your mouth.

His fingertips applied pressure on all of the right areas, pushing down on your blood supply while still – just barely – giving you room to breathe. You wrapped your legs around the man, bringing him closer until his chest was pressed flush up against yours. The violent clash of teeth and tongue that came from the desperate lips exploring yours made your head spin with pleasure. That and his unrelenting grip on your neck. 

Just as your eyes began to roll back you felt your lashes fluttering. Wakasa took his hand back without any further warning, and you gasped at the sudden rush of air that entered your lungs.

“Wait– Wait,” You panted. Between kisses, you managed to get out, “Take– he’ll know we… went missing–”

Wakasa stopped, but only to press his forehead against yours. His chest heaved as he panted for air. For a faint moment, almost believed he was going to have mercy on you, but then those pinkened lips of his pulled back into a knowing smirk. “He thinks I’m taking you home right now,” He licked his lips.

His hands found their way down to your thighs, grasping the disheveled fabric of your evening gown and hoisting it up around your waist. His breath was warm against your neck.

You made a surprised noise. “You’re taking me back to his house after this?”

“Nah, yours,” was all he said, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Or mine, if you want. I can go for round two.”

Under any other circumstance, you would have gotten flustered with him. But then you remembered where you were and what you were doing – cheating on your boyfriend with his coworker for the second time this month in the bathroom of some seedy VIP nightclub – and you figured you had long since moved past that.

This time, when he pressed against you, his bulge pressed deep into the fabric of your panties. You gasped, clutching at his broad shoulders, “Waka,” you whined. 

His back was so toned, so strong, fuck, it was turning you on like crazy and you had no idea why. You could slide your fingers over the muscular valleys of his shoulder blades for hours. When the tips of your nails caught his skin, you felt him shudder.

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” He panted. His leg nestled itself between your bare thighs. 

He liked that…

You were throbbing. You wanted nothing more. It was kind of funny – the way your hips began moving on their own, rutting against his thigh like a desperate whore just to take the edge off. It was like you were made for him.

He brought you into another searing kiss. He let you ride his thigh, keeping you pinned there against the wall.

“So fucking hot,” He practically moaned into your mouth. His words came out a little bit slurred, but it could have been because he said those words right up against your lips. 

You doubted yourself suddenly. “Waka, wait,” you said, bracing your hands on his chest and then pushing him away from you slightly. “We’ve been drinking”

“Drunk actions are a sober man’s thoughts,” He retorted. The smile that followed after his words made you feel butterflies. “Trust me, doll..."

This was wrong. Very wrong. But the moment you felt his hand slip between your sweaty bodies and brush over the waistband of your panties, you threw what was left of your morals out the window. 

“I’ve been thinking about ripping these off of you all week,” He purred. He snapped the waistband against your stomach.

His experienced fingers traced over the damp spot in your panties. Your body betrayed your will, leaning into his touch. You wanted this. You wanted this so fucking bad it hurt .

“You want that, baby?” He asked you. His eyes were half-lidded and dark, pupils blown wide as he licked his lips. "I won’t do nothin’ if you’re unsure.”

“What if Takeomi finds out?” You asked timidly. It was a bit late to be thinking of him but, still, you couldn’t help it.

“He won’t,” Wakasa smiled breathlessly. 

It was getting a bit hard to focus when his thumb was rubbing up and down – slowly – between your clothed folds.

“He’ll kill you, you know,” You shook your head. “He’ll kill me.”

The ball was in his court now.

“Your man knows I can beat his ass,” He chuckled. Fuck, he looked so pretty you couldn’t do anything but trust his word. His index finger toyed with the bottom of your drenched panties, tracing the lace pattern on the hem. “You’re safe with me, promise.”

His words made you melt. This was just a hookup. You tried to remind yourself of that while your heart pounded away behind your chest. 

“Okay,” You nodded slowly. Letting your hand act of its own free will, your fingers slipped beneath the neckline of his shirt. You felt him lean into your touch.

He smelled so good, so expensive. “I trust you.”

The smile Wakasa gave you could have powered the entire city of Tokyo with its warmth. His finger hooked beneath the fabric of your panties. “You want these off?” He asked.

Before you could answer, he was already lifting you up, sliding your panties over your hips, and then practically tearing them off of you. Then he kissed you again with an almost drunken fervor, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

You felt your back slipping against the wall. He set you down on the handrail, having you sit there for a moment while he dropped to his knees. You watched keenly as he reached for his ponytail and promptly tugged it out. 

You’d never seen him with his hair down but you decided that it was something you wanted to see more often. He carded one of his hands through his hair, it was… remarkably luscious for a man who fought and did crime for a living. He looked up at you as he pinched the hair tie between his teeth, sliding his hands back over his golden locks until he managed to collect all of them into a handful. 

He turned his head to the side, slipping the hair tie onto the fistful of hair and then tying it up. He twisted his hands with considerable expertise, bringing the ponytail up into a bun and then immediately hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He splayed his hands out over your navel when he was done, licking his lips. One hand traveled south towards your dripping cunt, dipping two fingers in between the folds before spreading them apart. “Shit,” he noted. “You are wet .”

He stopped for a moment to look at you. Pussy soaked, legs spread wide open for him – you imagined you were a sight to behold.

“I’ve never seen such a pretty pink pussy,” He mused. “Bet you taste like candy.”

It was absurd, the effect he had on you. You felt yourself drip at his words. You rested your head against the wall, trying your best not to look at him. It was in vain, of course. One flick of his index finger over your swollen clit had you looking down at him.

“Wanna eat you out,” He looked desperate – face tinted pink, lips swollen and parted slightly. His eyes were trained right on the dripping mush he had created between your legs. You had never seen a man get on his knees for some pussy before, but the wild look in his eyes as he finally tore them away to look at you reminded you that you weren’t dealing with just anybody here. “Where do you wanna cum first?”

You tilted your head. First?

“I can’t decide if I wanna feel you cumming on my face,” He grinned. His eyes darted down to your pussy just in time for him to flit right over your hole. You clenched around nothing. “Or on my dick.”

You whined. “We’re gonna get caught if you don’t hurry.”

“Not even a taste?” He huffed out a slight little laugh, shaking his head. “Been thinking about it all week.”

He was fucking dirty, what the hell…

You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and dropped your head down to cover your face with your hands. “We can do that another time,” you answered. “I need you right now.”

If he had ears like a dog, they would have perked up at your words. Slowly, a grin crawled over his face. “Okay, yeah,” he said slowly, like he was taken aback by your words. “We can do that instead.”

Then he was back on his feet again, scooping you into his arms and then sealing your lips together. The way you felt your body melt into his touch seemed criminal. He was so strong for someone of such small stature, holding you up while he walked the two of you backward in a way that seemed almost effortless.

“‘M’g’nna ruin that pussy,” He mumbled into your mouth, smearing your spit down your chin. His tongue slipped between your lips with a satisfied groan. 

It was messy, desperate, and it had you aching for him – you were sure you had to be leaving a snail trail on his shirt. He set your bare ass down on something cold. By the way the surface dipped below you, you assumed it was the sink. The feeling of something flat and cold against the back of your head confirmed your assumption.

His next words came as a hushed whisper against your tender lips, foreheads pressed together. “Think you can take me without any prep, baby?”

There was nothing more attractive to you than a man who knew his dick was big – especially not a man who had proven it. 

You took in the first inch, having to pause to adjust yourself to the sudden thickness splitting you open from the inside.

Wakasa let his head back against the seat, biting his lip. His breaths, slightly ragged, began to fog up the windows. But he didn’t rush you. No, he let you take it at your own pace. 

You slid down further and further, feeling yourself stretching around him like you were made for it, like taking it was your job. And then, right when you had gotten about halfway down on it, you looked at his pretty face. His pretty face flushed with pink, a shade which matched that of his eyes. His head was thrown back, hair beginning to stick to his forehead, and sweat beading at the base of his neck. 

You swallowed. Shit. That was a good question. In fact, you weren’t so sure that you could.

You could feel it pressing into you at this level. He felt so warm.

“Yeah,” You smiled anyway. You were well aware of the fact that the two of you were running on a time crunch. “I want it.”

Wakasa grinned, reaching into his back pocket and letting you rest against the mirror. He pulled out his wallet, opened it up, and then picked out a foil square. He tore into the wrapper with his teeth, spitting it into the trash can. 

You couldn’t take the wait. You gripped him by the collar of his shirt again, pulling him into another bruising kiss. He seemed prepared for it anyway, pressing up against you and deepening the kiss with a passionate sigh. 

He pulled back to lick his lips. “Needy baby,” he said. Capturing your lips in another kiss, he fumbled for the zipper on his pants. You could feel him adjusting himself before he was able to slip the condom onto the head of his dick.

There was an almost painful moment that passed – however brief – as Wakasa pried your legs open and lined himself up with your entrance without breaking the kiss. You wanted him so bad – the throbbing heat between your legs was almost painful.

The distinct feeling of his tip making contact with the melting, dripping mess you had become in a matter of minutes brought you back to him.

Wakasa grinned against your swollen lips. “You want me to fuck you right here, princess?” he asked you. “With your clueless boyfriend in the other room?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, biting into your lower lip so hard you thought it would draw blood. You needed it. You needed him . “Need it–”

Wakasa’s eyes burned bright with desire, lilac irises lit like a sunset in July. He was so close to you now that you could hear his breath catch in the back of his throat. “Yeah?” he purred. “How bad?”

On cue, you felt him dip the head of his cock in between your warm folds, just enough to tease. You wanted to grip him by the shoulders and sit on it, sheath the entire thing inside of you right here, right now, but he had you trapped against the sink, strong hands pinning yours down to the ceramic counter to ensure that you wouldn’t be able to get away. Your hips rutted up desperately in some feeble attempt to get friction. When he denied you such satisfaction, you whined.

“Beg for it,” Wakasa hummed, pressing his forehead against yours. 

Once again, the effect this man had on you was almost alarming. 

“Waka, please,” You begged him. He tilted your head toward him, lips ghosting over yours like he was getting off on seeing you all hot and bothered like this. His breath was warm against your lips. You could smell the liquor on his lips – it was intoxicating. Melting, you finished, “I need you.”

He teased his tip over your puffy clit. “Hmm… I’m not sold yet,” he said like it was nothing. A smirk grew on his face. He leaned in, toward your ear, and muttered, “Wouldn’t want you to regret it again, would we?”

Keeping your gaze trained out the window, you spoke again, “I’m telling you we can’t see each other again. Okay?”

For a moment, Wakasa looked like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to make you stay. Worst of all, you kind of wanted him to.

“You sure, princess? Don’t have nothing else to say to me?”

You did.

“No,” you affirmed. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

It was getting really hard to focus. “I didn’t mean it– any of it, fuck–” You seethed, just in time for him to tease over you another time. “I… I was talking out of my ass. Takeomi had me nervous about what would happen, and it was just…”

“Yeah?” He teased. He slapped his tip on your already sensitive bud, reeling in the way you lurched forward.

“Fuck– I’m sorry!” You gasped, words a stuttering mess. “Please, I’ve made up my mind, I…” Here you swallowed. “I want you, Wakasa! Fuck , I want you !”

Wakasa grinned. He licked his lips slowly, tantalizingly. Leaning down to your level, he captured you in another poisonous kiss – your head was spinning with desire – and then pushed in without so much as another word or warning.

“Fu-ck!” You cried out – and, really, cried was the only word you could use to adequately describe the gasping shout that was torn from your lungs.

It felt like you had been split open.

“M’gonna,” He grunted, pushing himself deeper into your aching hole until you were clawing at the sink. “G’nna make you eat those fuckin’ words, doll.”

He was so fucking big, fuck– you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. It hurt so good. Despite the way you were dripping all over him, going in with no prior preparation had you feeling like you were trying to start a bonfire.

Wakasa shuddered, pressing his forehead against yours as he exhaled shakily. “So tight, baby, fuck .”

The way he roughly gripped your hips elicited another gasp from your trembling lungs. You reached for his shoulders. The angle he was getting like this – with your legs around his hips, with your pretty pussy propped up on the counter just for him – made your mind go blank.

You felt him pull out of you, kissing your forehead before practically slamming himself back into you again. The whole sink rattled with the force of it.

The sinful, whiny moan that passed Wakasa’s reddened lips had you melting into him. “Fuck,” he gasped from the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. “ Shit .”

You threw your head back, as he thrust forward again. Your body jolted forward. The two of you sighed in perfect tandem. 

Drawing your brows together, you felt the pain begin to subside. Pleasure began to take its place. You felt so full, fuck , he was scratching the itch you’d been having for the last week like it was his job.

“ Waka,” You whined. “S’good–”

Then he was picking up the pace, and you felt the back of your head begin to thump rhythmically against the mirror. It felt like it was going by so fast but you knew the two of you were on a time crunch. 

It felt so good. The feeling of being seen by him after having spent the last week ignoring him made the sensations ten times more powerful. Seen, touched, wanted…It was different this time. You weren’t running away anymore. 

Up and down, up and down. Wakasa appeared to be mesmerized by the way your tits were bouncing in that dress you were wearing. 

Your hands began clawing at his back. You needed him deeper, closer. It was all too much and – at the same time – not enough.

Seemingly sensing – or sharing – your thoughts, he yanked you off the counter. Lifting you into his arms, he bent you over the sink, gripping your hair in his fist as he placed a kiss at the base of your neck. He continued peppering small kisses down the curvature of your spine. Unknowingly, you arched into his touch. 

His touch felt so heavy, weighted by some emotion you felt your interactions with Takeomi lacked. Where your boyfriend's hands left cold, emotionless touches all over your body, his hands carved through your intricate curves and valleys like he was trying to memorize the layout of your trembling body.

You felt exposed like this – you usually didn’t take it from the back – it made you a little nervous. In the dirty mirror, you could see his eyes drop from your waist to your hips, and then down to the slick running down your thighs. He licked his lips, running his hands over your ass. 

“Y’er so fuckin’ pretty, doll,” He exhaled sharply. Lifting his hand for a moment, he brought it down harshly against your tender skin, eliciting another small gasp. “Takeomi don’t know what to do with all of this.”

He eyed you up animalistically. You felt his tip glide through your folds – but only for a brief moment. During the span of three seconds, he’d thrust his hips forward until he was sheathed entirely in your warmth.

You cried out for him. “ Waka –”

He was so fucking deep . You didn’t even know how to begin processing the sensation, nerves burning with the sudden feeling of him bottoming out inside of you. 

This time, he didn’t let a moment go to waste. He immediately opted for a faster pace, hips snapping forcefully against your ass as he resumed his slaughter of your sore cunt. From the looks of it, he had made wrecking you his mission.

“G’nna send you back to him with a limp,” He moaned. It was like music to your fucking ears. He slid into you with such force now that you lurched forward, bumping your head against the faucet. 

With the slick of your arousal already dripping down your legs, he slid in and out of you with ease. Tangling his hand in your hair and looping the other around your waist, he grabbed a fistful and tugged your head back.

You gasped. 

“Look in the mirror, baby,” He purred, directing your wide-blown eyes to the mirror in front of the two of you. The sight of him almost made you cum on the spot.

Disheveled strands of hair framing his wild eyes, it felt as if he was staring into your soul. His cheeks were dusted with a faint rosy hue, lips parted slightly as he panted in your ear. Sweat had begun to bead at his neck, sliding down over his collarbone and dripping down below the collar of his disheveled shirt. Another button had come undone somewhere between a few hours ago and now, revealing more tendrils of ink spanning the length of his chest and his torso – patterns of roses winding around him like vines. He had you enthralled.

For a moment, you burned for him; Like the flame of his passion was licking away at your skin and turning you to ash. Your heart felt full with so many feelings running around. Having him so close to you made you realize how much you had missed him all of this time.

His grip was strong on your waist and your hair, veins protruding from his strong hands. When you clenched around him, he bit his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Want you to look in the mirror while I make a – fuck – a mess out’ta you,” He added.

You couldn’t fight the pleasure. It was so much, it made your head spin. As his thrusts became more forceful, you could hear the wetness squelching as your pussy struggled to accommodate his girth. The glass soap dispenser on the edge of the sink began to jump.

“Waka, baby–” You tried to get out. Your sentence was broken as he slipped in deeper and you felt his tip bump your cervix. “Someone’s g’nna hear u– ghh ..”

Your vision went white for a few seconds. As the light faded and the blurry vision of your lover came back, you could just barely make out that devilish little grin of his as he pulled your head to the side – pressing kisses against your freshly exposed neck.

You heard – rather than felt – yourself drip onto the floor. “ Mmh !”

He mumbled against your sweaty skin, lips smearing spit around, “Does he fuck you like I do, princess?” He moved his hand away from your hair, bringing it around your neck and gripping you like a vice. “Bet your pussy only squirts for this dick, yeah?”

He filled you up perfectly, sliding against your abused g-spot over and over again in a way that had you dripping even more . 

“Leave him–” You felt tears pricking at your eyes from the combined sensations of the overwhelming pleasure and the guilt. “Leave him out of this.”

“Tell me the truth,” He spat. “This pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

“Please,” you panted.

His hips slapping against your ass – his dick filling you out and stretching you open – you felt the tears running down your face before you knew they were coming. It felt so good. It was overwhelming. The knot in your stomach was wound up real tight. Any minute now, he would push you over the edge.

He smirked at you in the mirror, releasing your throat to caress the back of your thighs. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

It was kind of hard to do that when his thrusts had your vision going white at the edges. 

“No one else can fuck you like this,” He cooed. “Just me, yeah?”

He was right. He was so right it made you want to cry.

You pressed your cheek against the cold surface of the mirror, shaky breaths fogging up its clear surface. He bottomed out inside of you again, tip kissing your cervix. This time, he bent himself over you, thrusting forward at such an angle that he was hitting that sweet spot inside of you – and going so much deeper – with every snap of his hips. 

Panting and moaning like a bitch in heat, you clawed at the sink. Your eyes were unfocused, mind going numb with pleasure as you desperately searched for something to grab onto for dear life. 

“Say it,” he growled. Attacking the side of your neck, his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh. You clenched around him, tearing a whine from his chest. 

“Jus’ you,” You gasped, lurching forward from the force of his thrusts. “Fuck– ‘s yours, Waka.”

It had been him all along. You had been his from the start.

His thrust threw you forward against the mirror. Your hand slipped, somewhere, and the glass soap dispenser fell off the side of the sink, colliding with the ground in a deafening crash.

You were going to say something, but you couldn’t. All that came out whenever you opened your mouth were a series of  “ah”s and “mmh”s. It was as if Wakasa had rewired your brain; changed everything around until the only thing you could produce was a cry of his name.

At this point, the possibility of the two of you getting caught must have skyrocketed. As he pinned your hips down and beat your pussy up, your strangled moans became borderline screams.

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” He cooed. “Can’t stop lookin’ at ‘ya.”

There it was – that overwhelming urge to give in. The urge to be held by him, to be claimed by him. The urge to belong to him, to be loved by him.

No. You couldn’t catch feelings. Not now, not when you were in this deep. 

His hand slipped between your waist and the countertop, dipping down and teasing over the swollen red bud at the top of your pussy. He began flitting two of his digits over the little bundle of nerves.

The added sensation was too much to bear. You felt the warmth begin pricking at your thighs, tugging at something deep in your gut that threatened to snap any minute now. You were getting close – you could feel it in the way you felt your walls clamping down on him.

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he growled.

It was his. It had been his since the first time. It would always be his. The answer was so simple that – in the heat of the moment – it seemed to slip out in the form of a desperate cry.

“ Yours, ‘S yours ,” You chanted like it was some sort of perverted mantra. 

“All mine,” He said, kissing the back of your neck again. “G’nna cum for me, princess?”

Shit. You bit back a moan, feeling your legs tremble. The end was so near for you that you weren’t entirely sure you’d be able to hold on for very long. Raking your desperate eyes over his chest in the mirror, you watched his head fall back. 

“Mhm,” You mewled. His tip slamming into your sweet spot, his fingers rubbing tender circles over your clit, applying pressure in all of the right places – it was all too much to handle. “‘M g’n’a..”

“Shit,” He released a shaky breath. His thighs seemed to tremble against yours, indicating that he, too, was trying to hold on. He gasped out, lifting his head up to look at you in the mirror. Your eyes met, sending electric sparks all over your body. Your nerves burned with desire for him. “Don’t be shy, baby,” He panted. “Let everyone hear who’s making you feel good.”

“You,” You panted.

At his will alone, your moans increased in pitch. He had you pressed up against the mirror, breath hot against your own face, chest heaving as he pistoned into you from behind.

“Fuck, Waka, ‘M about to–” You gasped. You felt more of your arousal drip down your legs and onto the floor. Your words were discombobulated, your head jumbled by the mind-numbing pleasure that was quite literally coursing through your veins. “ Waka – wanna…”

“Go ahead, baby,” He smiled. Reaching forward to take a fistful of your disheveled hair, he pulled you back towards him and captured your lips in another deep, passionate kiss. His tongue found yours in a dizzying, lustful haze. Against your lips, he groaned, “Cum. Show me whose cunt this is.”

All it took was that last command, and your willpower shattered. 

You felt your release catch up to you. With the little strength you had left, you sobbed for him. “ Waka… !”

His. That’s what you had been all of this time. You’d only been too blind to see it.

Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, knocking all of the wind out of your lungs as you lurched against him. Your hips slammed back against his as he fucked you – roughly – through it. Clenching around him, crying out for him, searching for his lips like a desperate whore, it was clear that your love for Takeomi had been an illusion.

It was him all along.

The feeling of your walls sucking him in like that had him gasping against your lips. His own orgasm hit him only a few seconds later, hard dick twitching inside of you as he spilled his seed into the condom. You felt like you were milking him dry.

“Ah,” he panted, letting his head rest against the mirror next to yours. He looked about as fucked up as you knew you did, hair plastered to his forehead, sweat sticking to the top of his skin. 

He pulled out without much of a warning. You gasped at the sudden emptiness. He tied off the condom and tossed it into the trash bin.

“Shit,” You commented, chest heaving up and down.

Wakasa laughed breathlessly. “Shit,” he agreed.

Your legs were still shaking. He turned you over and let you sit on the countertop. 

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” He sighed, going in for another kiss almost immediately.

It took you a few long minutes to come back down to earth. Your skin was buzzing with post-coital bliss. Your lips felt tender as he gently sucked on them. The two of you parted with a quiet pop.

You averted your eyes. You knew that if you looked at him you would feel that thing, that little feeling stirring inside of you like leaves in an autumn breeze. Rather affectionately, you had given it the title of “thing” because you didn’t know what it was. The thought of what it entailed was enough to prevent you from doing any more digging.

It was – and would remain – just a thing. A thing that you would keep locked away within the deepest confines of your devilish heart.

“Takeomi’s probably wondering if I made it home,” You sighed with a breathless chuckle, resting your forehead against his. The moment felt so intimate, so uncharacteristically tender. Under normal circumstances, you would have put some space between the two of you to preserve the integrity of your feelings. You knew you didn’t have the strength to even do that.

“Probably,” he chuckled, eyes pressed shut. He hummed, pressing another kiss to your lips, one that you melted into. Finally, he pulled away, producing your panties out of seemingly nowhere and rolling them over your ankles. He pulled them up over your thighs, lifting you up for a moment to slide them over your hips. His lips kissed your inner thighs.

Reaching for the wrinkled skirt of your evening dress, he pulled it down to cover your legs. One last kiss was pressed to your forehead. “Let’s get you home, doll,” He sighed.

After such an intimate gesture, it took everything you had to ignore the way your heart warmed for him.

The ride home on Wakasa’s motorbike was different than last time. The awkward silence was gone, replaced by the warm thrum beneath your veins that you didn’t quite understand just yet. Being close to him felt nice. You brought your arms tighter around his narrow waist, resting your head upon his chiseled back. Even with the helmet over your head, you could feel the wind brush through your hair. It felt refreshing.

It had been a 15-minute ride so far. You knew the club wasn’t very far from home, of course, but you wished time would stop robbing you.

Wakasa had changed his hair into a bun, leaving two strands out to whip against the side of his face. You pressed your nose into his shirt, inhaling the scent you had grown to adore – expensive cologne, faint hints of smoke lingering on his skin along with the slightest hint of sweat. It was intoxicating.

You knew full and well that these thoughts were dangerous. But, still, after such a dramatic change of events, you couldn’t help yourself. Your legs still felt weak from the aftershock of what had gone down in the bathroom.

With a sigh, you turned your eyes to the city skyline. Tokyo looked so beautiful at night. The buildings loomed over the two of you – very briefly, of course – speckled with tiny windows of golden light. You could hear music, just vaguely, and you could see people rushing home in their cars as Wakasa merged onto the highway.

“Hold on, princess,” He had warned you. For a moment, you didn’t understand what he meant. But as he revved his motorbike and took off flying down the road, you fell into him with a shriek. Over the sound of the engine, you could just barely feel the vibrations from his laughter. 

“Slow down!” You shouted. The wind whipped past you. There was no doubt in your mind that he hadn’t heard a single word you had just said.

Wakasa only shook his head. He turned his head to grin at you before looking back at the road and picking up more speed. Traffic flew past the two of you like you were warping through time. Wakasa weaved between cars and trucks with practiced ease.

His hand slipped between the bike and his lap, placing itself over your folded hands and rubbing small circles on your skin. It all felt so intimate. In such a non-sexual manner, too. It made your spirit ache for him. You knew you would be thinking about this for the next year.

Even when he let go to steer with both hands, you felt the warmth of his touch linger. 

Continuing to speed through the highway, Wakasa eventually pulled towards an exit sign. 

Shibuya District

1 MILE

You felt the smile fall from your face. Just as soon as the moment had begun, it had come to an end. 

The two of you tilted to the right as he exited the highway. Though he slowed down, you felt the world spin as he hit the curve. You looked up toward the sky, silently marveling at the way the stars seemed to spin on their axis. It was this pretty shade of purple, like a midnight blue. 

Wakasa sped up again, merging back onto the main roads – slower this time, but not by much. The buildings the two of you passed began to look familiar. You knew that you were close to home.

You wondered what Wakasa made of this whole situation, though you doubted it had torn him up inside the way it seemed to have done to you. His heartbeat was steady and calm despite how fast the two of you were moving – not just here on this bike. You envied him for his ability to stay calm, even in the face of such a dangerous situation, for it seemed that your heart went crazy every time he was nearby.

His touch felt like fire, like your skin was made of ice. He warmed you to your core. That couldn’t be a coincidence. By the looks of it, it seemed as if you had begun fostering some sort of feelings towards him. For a moment, you wondered if he felt the same way.

Then again, it didn’t matter, did it? You were a taken woman. The thought of getting on Takeomi’s bad side alone was enough to make you abandon that train of thought. You could never act on such feelings, however ambiguous they may have been. 

But he was warm, so warm… You wanted to melt into him. These feelings of yours would surely get in the way of this … whatever ‘this’ was. So, instead of making these concerns known, you rested your head on his back again. You wanted to live in this moment forever.

He glanced back at you.  You felt your heart warm again.

I’m such a fool, you thought after an exaggerated sigh. There was no turning back now. At this rate, you figured you might as well make the most out of whatever the hell the two of you had while it lasted.

A few moments later, you felt the bike roll to a stop. Wakasa kicked the stand up, letting the bike lean to the side. He tapped your thigh.

“We’re here, doll,” He hummed.

You whined, lifting your head from the warmth of his back. Still, you let him take the helmet off of your head and hang it on the handle of his bike. He turned to face you with a smile. “Text me this time, alright?”

You yawned, drawing the moment out as long as you could. You weren’t all that tired, not now, at least. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t have the secret desire for him to pick you up and carry you into the house.

Ugh.

“Wait a sec,” You stayed put, nestling your head back in between his shoulders. “Don’t wanna go yet.”

Wakasa laughed tiredly, shaking his head. “Don’t talk like that, doll” He sighed. “Y’er gonna make me go inside with you.”

He slid his hand over your knee when you didn’t lift your head up. You wondered if he, too, dreaded parting ways tonight – for some odd reason you just couldn’t explain.

“What’s stopping you?” You mumbled, though the words came out muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

You felt him laugh again. 

“Go home, princess,” He replied, looking somewhere off in the distance. It was probably your house. “You know ‘m always a call away.”

Feeling your cheeks burn, you hid your grinning face in his back. His voice made you weak in the knees. His words made you crumble. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you sighed.

You didn’t want to go but tossed your leg over the bike and hopped off anyway. Feeling your skirt fall to your feet, you leaned down and dusted your legs off. When you looked back at him, you almost fainted.

He was looking at you like you were the only one in the world. And you were, at least on your empty street. His eyes, deep with adoration, lingered over your body. When they darted up to your eyes, you could have sworn you could see the ‘thing’. Whatever that was.

“Thank you for everything, Waka,” You bowed your head. 

You hated to admit it, but Wakasa almost looked a bit sad to see you go. 

He nodded towards you, “Be careful with that limp.”

With a slight roll of your eyes, you turned around and marched towards the house. You paused in your tracks, then turned back around, like you had forgotten something.

You swallowed. “Waka,” you called.

He was leaning over the front of the bike when you called his name. 

“I have some tea inside, you know,” You trailed off, folding your arms over your cold body. Anxiously, you toed at the dirt. “You should come in and have a cup. ‘S the least I can do for you.”

He paused for a moment with his eyes wide, like he was thinking about your offer. He looked at the empty street, then at his bike, then back at you. Finally, he grinned as he shook his head. 

You felt your heart speed up. You wondered what he would say.

Wordlessly, he turned off his motorbike and slipped over it. The moment you saw him approaching you, that entourage of butterflies was back with a vengeance, sending sparks flying up and down your body.

When he was right in front of you, he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You felt yourself melt all over again.

"Stay with me tonight," You sighed into his mouth. "Don't leave yet."

He sighed. He looked so pretty under the moonlight that you felt the same way right now about him. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

"We can have a sleepover," you giggled, turning back towards your house. You called the next words over your shoulder, "I'd hate to make you go home so late, y'know."

Wakasa followed close behind, kissing the back of your shoulder as he returned your quiet laughter. "Yeah?" He hummed into your ear. The sound made you shiver. "Though I can't promise you'll be getting much sleep with me around, doll."

He looped his arm through yours, letting you use him to keep your balance while the two of you climbed up the steps to your front door. As you reached into your purse and jammed the key in the door – for the first time that evening – the thought of your boyfriend didn’t even cross your mind.

It had been him all along, after all.

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa smut #wakasa fluff #wakasa imagines #takeomi akashi #bonten #tenjiku #toman #brahman #shinichiro #shinichirosano #wakasa #smut #plug! au #just read it lol #party monster ⋆ ★ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[hopefulnightlady]

141 Nsfw Headcannons four, smut galore

(gender neutral)

Part one(Price): here

Part two(Soap): here

part three(Gaz): here

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So yeah here is the last part. As always, have fun if u disagree well. Tell me so i can tell you how wrong you are ^-^. Remember i made these out of sheer frustration at the prevalent characterisations. If you like super duper dark evil murder monster Simon 9000, you will not like this. Respectfully, go back to booktok🥰

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Spoicy stuff under the cut, folks!

Same as price with the issues of separating his job and the sort of violence kinky sex brings

I mean he literally has a murder fursona (ghost) to cope with existing and to separate it from himself

(going to give you a sec here to digest murder fursona)

probably suuuper quiet (internalized toxic masculinity says he's not allowed to enjoy things)

he would not be good at communicating in general

If you manage to get into his heart, and you must've if you're in his bed, he's probably trying very very hard for you about everywhere else

but this stuff? emotional intimacy, especially when mixed with physical intimacy? nope, not even on his list

you'd have your work cut out for you

To not only shit on Ghost, here is a non-exhaustive list of stuff that he's good at/with

following direction (if you say 'just like that' he does. just. that.) not in a ‘sub’ way, just in a ‘good at following orders’ sort of way

actually, maybe a little bit in a sub way (hehe subway), not super kinky just.... wants to make Sure you're happy?

nice dick, big but not wayyy to big, and he doesn't think it makes him magically amazing at sex

loves giving head👍 doesn't matter your bits, if you like it, he will

the murder stare is pretty hot in the bedroom (especially when being given head)

he actually gets better at the genuine vulnerability stuff with time.

and oh, he tries. sooo. hard. and it's obvious

Bonus, because it's not talked about nearly enough:

-He’d have ED (erectile dysfunction) issues. It's very likely at least one of them would, and mr skullmask flavor ptsd is my prime candidate

-it wouldn't be constant, and not anything like a medical issue, mostly just stress, abd performance anxiety, and well, the trauma

-He would hate himself PROFOUNDLY for it. I wish he didn't, but he would.

-Esp with his issues about talking about his feelings, i think you'd not even know until like. Wayyyy into the relationship

Totally the type of guy ro manage to hide it for yearsss

-perhaps you finding out (and better NOT CARING!!!) helps with the anxiety surrounding the topic for him, which in turn might soothe the symptoms are little

Aftercare:

he didn't even know such a thing existed until he randomly read on google about it (only AFTER the conversation about emotional intimacy and communication during sex was had)

And now he helps you clean up, and brings you a snack and water, and generally does everything he thinks might help you feel safe and happy

Still doesn't do much actual... talking. But the actions speak for themselves, and he's really trying

once the cleanup/snack is concluded, he will Cuddle you. Because he quickly learned skin to skin is important after Sex

For precisely 15 minutes, that is, after that he starts to get antsy, needing some time with No one Perceiving him.

(yes, it's pretty precisely 15 minutes. But!!! he already did 1 whole Sex with you, plus the cuddling? that's rough, bud)

would probably shower, or smoke, some small excuse for time alone and then come back, sit with you, or go to bed with you, or generally be close without too excessive touching

Bye bye folks, that's it!

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#Murder fursona #might be my magnum opus #i didnt finish this for weeks Because i got psychic damage every time i opened my doc and saw the phrase #and fled #aanyways... #cod mw2 #headcannons #cod headcanons #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #THE TAGS WONT SAVE #agony

[greynatomy]

haven’t posted in a while. lost some motivation on the other but will get back to it!

there’s is nothing sexual in this post so if you see the mature themes thing, ignore it cause it’s all fluff

this is a lisa manoban x male!reader instagram fix with shawn mendes as basically the face claim. lisa is from blackpink and i’ve become a fan after watching their coachella performances online. songs are a bop and are on repeat

let me know what you think of this one! send in some requests for things you want to see more as long as i have it open

-grey

———

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 6,384 others

ynupdates yn is said to replace frank ocean at coachella weekend 2

view all comments

ynfan3 HOLY SHIT NO WAY

ynfan4 IM GONNA BE THERE

ynfan5 don’t disappoint us yn!!

↳ ynhater1 he’s not main stage worthy

↳ ynfan6 don’t hate before he even performs

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 8,748 others

ynupdates yn arriving for coachella week 2

view all comments

ynfan3 HE SO FIIINNUHH??

ynfan4 He looks daddy

↳ ynfan5 he can be my sugar daddy

liked by ynfan1, bpfan1 and 10,847 others

ynupdates yn posted this video of lisa from blackpink on his story. ONLY LISA, not any of the other members!!

view all comments

bpfan2 OHMYGOD I AHHHH

ynfan2 any fan of yn’s know that he’s a big fan of bp… esp lisa

↳ bpfan3 wait really?!

↳ ynfan3 yeah! they met when blackpink first performed at coachella and been a fan ever since

↳bpfan4 that’s sick!!

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2, and 12,384 others

celebnews people had great things to say about yn yln's act at coachella. many said that it made up for frank ocean's disappointing performance, or lack thereof. he also performed a new, unreleased song called 'daydreams' and people are swooning.

view all comments

ynfan3 OUR BOY DOES NOT DISAPPOINT

ynfan4 all ya'll haters just hating

bpfan1 watched his act cause i heard he was a bp fan and i'm staying cause he is a vibe

↳ ynfan5 welcome new friend!!

liked by jennierubyjane, yourinstagram and 10,500,320 others

lalalalisa_m fun in the desert 🌵

view all comments

bpfan1 she posted yn and yn only!!

ynfan1 OMGGG I SHIP SO BAAADDD 🚢 🛳️

↳ bpfan1 i watched his act and IT WAS SO GOOD. i ship too

liked by bpfan1, ynfan1 and 15,374 others

bpupdates jennie posted the first one on her story, lisa posted the video as one of her instagram post slides and the last one was posted by a fan

view all comments

bpfan2 not lisa posting herself fangirling

ynfan2 awww they all watched the other's performance

liked by lisafan1, bpfan1 and 6,392 others

blackpinkupdates are lisa and y/n y/ln in a relationship? this tiktok has some ‘proof’

view all comments

bpfan2 lisa's post from earlier doesn't help with the rumors at all

↳ bpfan3 miss gurl just don't care

↳ bpfan4 she said fuck the management

ynfan1 he def hit that

↳ ynfan2 they could just be friends. they've known each other since 2019 and there weren't anyone saying anything then

↳ ynfan3 or they just hooking up

liked by harrystyles, lalalisa_m and 20,748,046 others

yourinstagram we actually said i do...

view all comments

ynfan1 OHMYGOD WHO IS ITTTTT

↳ ynfan2 HE DIDNT TAG ANYONEEEEE

hairstyles it was a great wedding mate. glad to have been your best man

↳ harryfan1 HARRY WAS BEST MAN

bpfan1 LISA LIKED OMGG

ynfan3 IM FREAKING OUT

liked by jennierubyjane, yourinstagram and 16,394,299 others

lalalisa_m ...about a year ago

view all comments

bpfan1 SHES MARRIED?? SHES FUCKING MARRIED??

jennierubykim AHHHHHHHH

sooyaaa_ YAAAY

roses_are_rosie WE BEEN KNEW

bpfan2 THIS IS THE BIGGEST FUCKING KEPT SECRET

↳ bpfan3 THE QUESTION IS TO WHOOOOO

ynfan1 HOLD UP HOLD UP! YN POSTED SOMETHING SIMILAR

↳ ynfan2 THEYRE MARRIED

liked by ynfan1, bpfan1 and 37,484 others

celebnews yn yln and lisa from blackpink are MARRIED. the two posted their own picture with yn's being "we actually said i do..." and lisa's being "...about a year ago" this came as a total shock to all yn and black pink fans all over as we have not seen them interact at all in the four years since they met. were you just as shocked by the news as everyone else?

view all comments

bpfan2 this was not in my list of things that would happed in the celeb world

ynfan2 they're the king and queen of secrets cause WOW

yourinstagram still can't believe she agreed to forever with me

↳ lalalisa_m @ yourinstagram how could i not?

↳ bpfan3 they're so cute ohmygod

↳ ynfan3 officially my favorite couple

bpfan4 DAYDREAMS IS ABOUT LALISAAAA

#lisa manoban #jennie kim #rosé park #kim jisoo #blackpink x reader #blackpink #male reader #lisa blackpink #pinkchella #lisa manoban x reader #gaynatomy fake instagram

[another-corpo-rat]

Hello… do you have any head canons for Hansen to share? I was disappointed to only have one conversation with him, and you seem like a good person to ask. >:3

Me? Having ideas about the warlord? Nooo never-

Anyways here’s a list of Thoughts that I hope are vaguely coherent, though warning: they’re a tad all over the place

He was raised by his granny on his father’s side. She was actually from Serbia, and had met his grandfather when he spent some time there then moved back to America with him. His grandfather was dead before he was born, and his mother’s parents weren’t present in his life. Grandma Hansen practically raised little Kurt, his parents were career-oriented – his father a colonel and his mother held some minor political role – so their time for him was limited.

She fostered his love for her home country as she shared stories of her own childhood while tucking him in to bed, or when he was still small enough to sit on her knee. One evening she told him a story of the bauk, and boy did that plant a mild fear of the dark him. He had to sleep with a nightlight for a few weeks after.  

His granny owned a dog when he was growing up, dear ol’ Bowie. She was a big loveable mutt who was already quite old when Kurt was born. She’d sleep under his crib when he was a baby, and would walk shakily alongside him as he was taking his first steps. Almost every photo of baby Kurt has Bowie in it, up until he was four years old and she passed.

He got to choose their next pet dog when he was eight, it was a mean looking bastard he named Titan. The Barghest symbol is based on him.

His gran died just before he got promoted to colonel. It broke his heart that she didn’t get to see it, because she was so excited to see him get the recognition he deserved. He took her ashes back to Serbia, promised that he’d visit when he could. He hasn’t been able to visit for a while.

His dad’s dead by the time Barghest is finding its feet, his mother gets removed from her position while Myers is simultaneously airing her very public condemning of her son’s actions. Nothing’s heard from her since. She’s probably dead too tbh.

Kurt’s lactose intolerant. He had to learn to like his coffee black, the cramps just weren’t worth it. (weakling)

Damn though can this man handle his drink. He can hold eye contact and not make a face as he downs vodka straight from the bottle. His men get a good laugh when he blames them and their shit for it. Tbh he’s only partially joking

Kurt when he hears the bullshit Yuri tries to pull:

His right arm is a recent cybernetic only gotten in the past year or two, meanwhile his left was standard militech-issued at the time he was serving. He suffered a relatively minor injury during training and took the opportunity to get an upgrade.

He’s rather wary of netrunners, esp more combat oriented ones. While he appreciates their effectiveness and utility, he always has an edge of caution around them and takes particular care to keep them either charmed or afraid, whatever keeps them from potentially acting against him.

During Operation: Midnight Storm, there was always this quiet wariness to Hansen and his men when an Arasaka AV would fly close to their position. Each time they waited in absolute silence, dreading to hear ‘Code: A.S’ over the comms Some of the younger, braver, stupid men were biting at the bit for it, Hansen wasn’t keen to be added to Arasaka’s graveyard by Smasher.

He’s a light sleeper. He doesn’t particularly struggle in getting to sleep, it’s just that a pin dropping can wake him

He’s quite Spartan in regards to his personal possessions – his room lacks a lot of personal touch, there’s really nothing that signifies it as Kurt’s beyond the small collection of knives and guns on display. If anything it could be mistaken as another storage room. Even the bed, while fucking massive, isn’t comfortable beyond measure, the mattress is stiff and the pillows memory foam.

He listens to the same music on repeat and has done for the past few years. I’m inflicting my personal tastes on him and saying his favs includes Biffy Clyro (x), Iron Maiden (x), and Black Sabbath (x)

Even though he could get actual real meat he still prefers the taste of synth-beef, it’s what he grew up knowing. Probably eats more pot noodles than he should, but he’s a busy man and they’re quick and filling

Because I think it’s funny and would rile Johnny up something fierce: Kurt…appreciates Silverhand’s actions back in ’23. He’s well aware Silverhand got the nuke from Militech and is a massive fucking hypocrite but hey, isn’t everyone? He wouldn’t be where he is now if Johnny didn’t get that ball a-rolling.

Barghest does have a militant structure, a very clear hierarchy of who’s in charge of who, but it’s a lot more casual? In how they speak with each other. Even with Kurt. He makes them see him as a person and not this mighty figurehead. He jokes around with recruits, might ruffle one’s hair in passing after knocking the shit outta them and giving them pointers on their footing. It’s partially real affection for the people under his command, and another part is simple manipulation – he wants to give them something real to tether their loyalty to, wants them to see him as a man, a terrifying, brutal bastard at times but nonetheless a man, and not the untouchable better-than-you titan the higher-ups at the NUSA always painted themselves as.

Speaking of brutality – it’s something I feel like the game didn’t really show of his. Even V seems quite flippant towards his threat of sending them back in body bags – Hansen’s hands were tied that particular night as he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of his guests. Bad for PR and all that. But the worst of his punishments make the corps look tame. He doesn’t immediately execute; he tortures until there’s nothing left of the person from fingernails to spirit. And then their bodies are just tossed in the disposal units. Though, public executions on his order aren’t all that uncommon either.

Not so much a headcanon as a thought: I genuinely don’t know what would have happened to Songbird had Kurt’s plans gone perfect. Maybe he might’ve let her fly away, let the little bird go on to the stars, keep his word and all that. But it’d be just as easy to make her disappear; she’s dangerous, a living weapon that’s he’s already got his use out of. A loose end who knows too much. I wouldn’t be surprised if the freedom he’d have given her was a bullet to the brain.

Knife play! Blood kink! Choking kink!! He also likes pulling hair a lot

He gets put on the back foot quite quickly if his partner takes charge, he’s used to being expected to take on that role, but he recovers and indulges quick enough

He runs hot, just an absolute radiator of a man who’d probably be great to cuddle with if NC wasn’t in a fucking desert.

He’s distressingly touch-starved and would probably sink into a proper hug like a warm bath.

While he is very much alive and well in Victoria’s canon, I do like to think that following his death certain information was transferred to NetWatch pertaining to Songbird and what Myers had her do beyond the Blackwall. Fucking her over even when he’s gone, a last little fuck you as he still somehow manages to get the last laugh.

#cyberpunk 2077 #phantom liberty #Kurt Hansen #why Felix its almost like you know bald war criminals are my bread and butter- #but yea I do have some headcanons for the man #just a fewwwww #the biggest difficulty i had was deciding what iron maiden song to link to

[hawkinsindiana]

i’ll make an exception

ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER TWO OF TEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 8.2k (THE LONGEST ONE YET)

a/n: heyyyyyy....... i went a lil wild ^^ as you can see. as much as i love writing stevie i am so excited to bring the other characters back in (esp the introduction of the dungeon master himself). once again, ruby had a hand in this. they had a really nice day. now let’s throw them to the dogs. ALSO! I FIGURED OUT TO TYPE AN EM DASH AND THAT MAKES ME VERY EXCITED! so now you’ll get proper punctuation. anyways. thank you so much for reading!!!!! please enjoy!!!!

masterlist

A sound, just barely a hum, vibrates in your throat as you stir. For a moment, you’re confused as your mind struggles to comprehend anything at this hour. It only takes another second for you to recognize that you’re at Steve’s, and then another for you to feel his skin on yours. 

His hand is splayed out across your ribs, almost like he was halfway through pulling you closer before his eyelids dropped. As for Steve, his position matches yours, laying on his stomach beside you; one of his legs is pressed up against yours. 

The morning sun streams in behind the curtains, a few beams of light peeking through as you come to, squinting your eyes to adjust to the brightness. It bathes the room in such a beautiful glow as it bounces off of furniture and onto the pair of you. As you continue to stir, muscles shaking as you stretch, you turn in Steve’s hold and are met with the sweetest sight. 

His face is barely visible from beneath the mop of bed head; from what you can see, his skin is flushed and warm from deep sleep, leaving his face dusted red and squished against the pillow. His breathing is slow as his eyelashes flutter for just a moment — you wonder what he’s dreaming about. 

Your body is already scooting forwards to Steve. As peaceful and simply divine as he looks when he’s asleep, you can’t go another second without being fully wrapped up in the arms of your new roommate. Just the thought makes your chest and stomach pool with warmth. 

Your fingers appear from under the blankets to gently thread through his hair; you push back all the strands that fell out of place in the night, exposing the rest of his face to the morning glow. The second your hand is on him, Steve’s stirring — a deep breath tells you as much, chest rising and falling as your touch wakes him up. When you skim your fingernails across the skin of his scalp, you earn a low groan from his throat, his hold on you tightening. 

God, he missed you.

You watch adoringly as Steve peeks his eyes open, peering at you through his eyelashes as if he doesn’t quite believe you’re here. The half-hearted squeeze on your waist speaks of his tiredness and you think for just a moment that he may close his eyes and drift back to sleep. He doesn’t. 

Instead, the pair of you relish the time to gaze lovingly, both your eyes soaking up the details of the morning. It almost hurts how captivating he looks. The stripe of sunlight that brightens the whole room kisses his skin, tan and warm under your touch — his eyes lighter, soft caramel in the morning glow, rove over you fondly. His expression holds awe, drinking in the particulars of your face and the sensation of you in his arms. 

He’s had dozens of mornings like this with you but none where he’s so sure that he can take his time, memorizing the way you curl into him.

“Hi roomie,” You whisper to him, like you’re sharing a secret for just the two of you. The words tumble delightfully in Steve’s chest. His sleepy smile becomes a fully formed grin, matching your own and all he can do is pull you closer yet. 

Faces nearly touching, Steve moves his hand from your waist, tucking under your shirt — his shirt — and skirting up your bare back. Beneath his roaming fingers which draw senseless patterns on your skin, Steve feels you shiver despite your warmth; it makes the ache in his chest burn even stronger. 

“Hi roomie,” He whispers back, head ducking to kiss your shoulder, his touch featherlight. You vaguely think that it shouldn’t be possible to be as happy as you are — you feel like you’re glowing, heart turning inside out from emotion and all you want to do is get as close to Steve as possible. 

You don’t ignore the instinct, nuzzling into his chest and peppering your own gentle kisses onto the curve of his neck. It’s not the passionate rush similar to what you engaged in last night, no — instead each of these kisses are an ‘I love you’ repeated over and over, hoping it sinks in and runs through his veins all day. 

Last night. Your face flushes now just thinking about it. Quite possibly, that’s the best it’s ever been. You two were so in sync, propelled by your incessant teasing from earlier and the wonderful, positively heartwarming truth that you’re going to live together. Every touch carried a thousand meanings.

Steve’s hand is still tracing beneath your shirt, yours twined into his hair. As you sigh happily into him, it feels as though a live wire is lit under your skin, body buzzing with pure love. He can already feel his eyes drooping once again, the sensation of you pressed to him is a comfort like no other. But he thinks he’d rather stay awake, conscious enough to feel your puffs of air hitting his chest. 

“I think we should take your mattress. ‘S softer,” Steve murmurs as gently as he can. With his voice still rough from underuse, the words still contain a bit of that gravel that sits uncomfortably in his mouth. 

You smile against his skin as the image of you two moving furniture into the space of your empty apartment floats into your mind. The thought of you decorating it with little trinkets and hanging art on the walls only adds to the building warmth that spreads through your body. 

“We’re getting new sheets though, sweetheart. I can’t take it anymore.”

You chuckle a bit at his comment, reminded of the hole in your fitted sheet that Steve always seems to get his toes stuck in. You shift your hand to loop beneath his arm, fingers holding onto his shoulder as you place another kiss there as well. The tone of your voice is playful as you answer, pretending to be offended, “Fine.”

Steve nearly rolls his eyes in amusement while he trails two of his fingers down the line of your spine; instinctively, the sensation makes your grip on him tighten. Now similarly to you, his mind is lost in thought, thinking of all the ways the space can be yours. 

“What about that pull-out your mom’s got? Think she’d be willing to let us take it?”

“Probably,” You’d shrug if it weren’t for Steve’s hold, “She’s been looking to get rid of it for a while.”

You bring your face back up, shifting your position on the bed to place your head on the pillow; you meet Steve’s warm, affectionate gaze when you’re settled. It forces more blood to rush to your cheeks which in turn makes his smile grow even wider. Planning the move makes your hearts swell in a way that you didn’t know was possible. 

“M’so excited,” He admits, voice still raspy but words earnest and sincere, “I’ve always been excited about moving out of here.”

His eyes bounce around his room — the only room in the house with any life in it. You both know that the house is yours today, and while it feels like a silver-lining most of the time, you know it feels like a burden to Steve when you aren’t here with him. His gaze returns to your face and he dips his head forward to brush his nose against yours, eyes crinkled in his smile, “I’m more excited to do it with you.”

You beam and briefly wonder if Steve can feel your rocketing pulse under his fingers, the thrum of your love rushing through your body.

“Me too, Steve Harrington,” You say back, a giggle following the words. Then, morning breath be damned, you can’t not kiss him. He lends you the delicate press of his lips and you pour all your affection into the kiss, humming in happiness. 

Breaking away, Steve looks more alight and awake than before and you ponder if he’s thinking the same as you; that this has to be the most perfect morning you’ve ever lived. He knows for sure that he’s never been more in love. 

You keep inviting him into your life, closer and closer to the point where you want to share an apartment together. Steve’s always been a bit terrified that one of these days you would stop coming around, stop feeling an attachment to Hawkins and eventually move on to a better life in the city. While it’s clear that’s something you want, you want to do it with him.

Another thought pops into your head. 

“Mom will give us the pull-out if I tell her that’s where Dustin will sleep when he comes to visit,” You mumble, trying to memorize the rise and fall of Steve’s breaths beneath your touch. All of this is being filed away, already saving this memory for a rainier day. 

Steve grins softly, tone light and amused, “I give him three weeks before he insists on visiting.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Three weeks? Stevie, he’ll wanna be there on day one. We’re gonna have to beat him off with a stick to get a morning like this in the first week.”

Steve snuggles closer, sighing happily, “Price I’m willing to pay.”

The pair of you end up falling back asleep in each other’s arms, taking the opportunity to sleep in for as long as possible. It’s only when the little hand passes eleven do you finally crawl out of bed, nearly giving in to Steve’s protests when he tries to goad you back into his chest. But if you’re late for lunch, you’ll never hear the end of it. 

You and Steve always join your family for lunch on Saturdays. If you’re not in the house by noon sharp, Dustin throws a fit. Even when you’re in Chicago, Steve’s at dinner at least twice a week and sometimes Robin joins too; your mother hates the idea of either one of them ever going hungry. They’re both welcome, regardless of your presence. 

Breaking the news to Dustin went about as well as you could’ve expected. Your mom was thrilled for you both, and Dustin was… well, Dustin.

“Wait, hold on-” He stops as the realization slams into him, leaning up against the kitchen counter before angrily gesturing between the two of you, “First you leave and now you’re taking Steve? This is so not fair!”

A frown grows over Steve’s face with your brother’s words, turning his attention away from the cat you cradle in your arms, “Oh, so you come crawling back to me, huh? Now that I’m leavin’? Eddie’s not good enough for you anymore, is that it?”

Both you and Dustin roll your eyes, but your brother’s is far more dramatic, “Steve, I swear to GOD-”

“Have you met him?” Steve crosses his arms over his chest as he looks over to you, interrupting Dustin before he sets himself off. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to say it in order for you to understand his feelings. His tone says it all — Eddie Munson is a menace.

“Not really,” You set the cat down onto the tile when they start to wiggle out of your grasp, “Talked to him a bit when I picked Dustin up from Hellfire one night. He did not seem too thrilled to see me, to be honest.”

You shrug it off, remembering the interaction in your head — Eddie’s annoyed tone of voice, eyes focused on anything but you; his disinterest was palpable.

“Whatever, he can have any opinion of me that he wants,” You add, moving over to the stove to stir the simmering pot of soup, “Seems like half this town does, anyway.”

With your back turned, you don’t notice the knowing glance shared between Steve and Dustin. 

Your brother’s mood shifts as he attempts to raise yours, “Maybe he’s just… just intimidated by you! Y’know you can be kinda scary sometimes.”

His comment earns him a scoff and a confused glance over your shoulder, “Yeah right. I’m intimidating to Eddie Munson? The guy who sells dr- magazines to the freshmen?”

You quickly change your word choice as your mother walks into the kitchen; you don’t know how much she’s aware of Munson's reputation, and you figure it’s probably better that it stays that way. When she starts reaching for napkins and silverware, Steve immediately offers his help and gets swept away to set the table, your mom reaching up to pinch his cheek in thanks. 

You’re so unbelievably grateful that Steve’s welcome in your home; your mom even joked that he should be included in this year’s Christmas card due to how much time he spends with all of you. You know she’s thankful for what Steve’s done for both of her children. After your father… well, she’s happy another male figure found his way into the Henderson house. 

Dustin can sense it as well. It’s hard to be annoyed with the prospect of Steve moving away with you for too long, partially because you’re absolutely glowing today. He makes you extremely happy, almost to the point where it doesn’t feel deserved. How could Dustin be mad at you for that?

“Just because Steve will be there all the time doesn’t mean you can skip a single weekend.”

Your brother’s comment forces you to turn around. His eyes are serious, narrowed as if he might hex you if you oppose him. Amused, you roll your own eyes again, as if it’s silly he could’ve thought anything less, “Obviously. That’s still the plan. Always was.”

Dustin seems to brighten at that, posture straightening a little more before smiling, “Good, good.”

You return the grin as you reach forward, a hand extended out towards the top of his head. Dustin whines, placing both of his palms on the sides of his hat to keep it in place, “Nooo! No! I worked hard on it!”

He’s already moving away, trying to duck beneath your outstretched fingers. To both of your surprises, he manages to skirt away untouched, which brings a proud smile to his face. Your brother doesn’t get to celebrate long. 

As Steve comes back into the kitchen, he squeezes in beside Dustin to grab another plate from the cabinet. Your brother instinctively steps away to give him more space, which ends with Steve thanking him with a tousle of his cap, “Thanks little man.”

Dustin pouts once Steve’s hand has left him, fingers going straight to the brim to readjust the bright blue bill across his forehead. Steve winks at you as he exits — he saw the whole thing. You shake your head as a large toothy smile spreads over your face. 

You are ridiculously, incandescently happy.

—

You’re half asleep on the couch when the phone rings; the bright trill catches your attention through the game show blaring through the television, eyes widening as you come to. You’re tucked against the corner, a foot stretched out onto the coffee table as the ringing continues. 

Neither your mom or Dustin make an effort to get up because they both know you’re going to get it; you’re halfway off the couch before either of them could move anyways. You stifle a yawn as your socks pad across the hardwood floor and into the hallway where the phone resides. 

You clear your throat as you lift it off the base; you still sound slightly tired as you speak, “Hello?”

“Turn on the news.”

You scoff, wedging the phone in between your cheek and shoulder, “Jeez, Steve. What the hell do I gotta do to get a ‘hello’ from you? I’m serious-”

“Henderson,” Steve interrupts. His voice is stern, uninterested in joking around right now; it makes goosebumps roll over your skin, and not the good kind, “Just turn on the news.”

Your brow furrows as you grab the base in your free hand, gripping it tightly while you walk to the living room, the cord straining the farther you get from the outlet. When you appear in the archway to the living room, Dustin looks at you with a similarly confused expression. With a nod of your head, you gesture to the screen and repeat the order Steve had given you.

Your brother flips through a few channels before finally landing on Channel Nine; a reporter stands in front of a slew of crossed yellow tape, reading something into the microphone about a lack of suspects. 

You shift, leaning up against the wall, “What happened? They’re not saying right now.”

Steve sighs on the other end of the line. The longer it takes for him to respond, the more your anxiety grows. In the silence, you can hear the same channel faintly playing in the background, the words echoing each other in your ears. He speaks again before you can prod him for more information, his tone dejected as he’s forced to detail the tragedy to you.

“Some high schooler got murdered last night.”

“What?” The response is pushed from you in pure shock, “Murdered? Steve, are you serious?”

“Yeah. Guess someone found her body this morning.”

Your family turns their heads abruptly at the ‘M’ word, staring at you with wide eyes, just as baffled as you are. Dustin sits up a bit straighter and your mom instinctively clutches her cat closer before focusing intently on the reporter. Your brother asks a question far too loudly, which makes your mom shush him in return, “Who was it?”

When you repeat it to Steve, you mouth back the answer he gives, “They haven't said yet. Or… I don’t know, I didn’t catch much before I called.”

Before you can get too giddy about the thought of Steve dialing you first, he continues, “Just… come by the store when you can, okay?” 

You hum, turning away from the living room to return to the phone’s original spot, “Thought I wasn’t allowed to visit you while you’re working anymore.”

Thankfully, Steve’s nerves seem to have settled while chatting with you. You can imagine the smirk on his face as he flirts back, “Well there’s a murderer on the loose, sweetheart. Pretty ladies like you always seem to be victims in these sorts of things. I’ll make an exception. And Robin misses you.”

A small giggle escapes you, grinning down to the floor, “Okay, I’ll come by in a bit.”

“Good,” Steve answers; the relief is obvious in his tone, “I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you.”

Some shuffling on the other side of the line implies that Robin’s giving him a hard time for that, maybe a gross kissy face or something — Steve scoffs at her through the static, and your smile only grows.

“I know. Bye baby.” 

He utters a similar phrase before hanging up, leaving you with the dial tone ringing through your ears. After placing the phone onto the base, you join your family in front of the television again, intent on taking in a few more details about the case before you eventually leave for Family Video. 

It’s unsettling to think that after all of the things that have happened in Hawkins, a crime (you hate to say it) as normal as a murder seems alarming. You led a monster through the exact living room you’re standing in… and you’re shocked by a teenager getting killed? 

You know that part in a slasher movie where the first victim’s been found and everyone’s crowded around the TV waiting for answers? Yeah, you’re living it. If you went over to either of your neighbor’s, you have a feeling they’re doing the same thing. 

You get the dreadful feeling that nobody’s safe, like anyone could walk into Freddy Kruger. All the problems with the Upside Down always seem to be relegated to your group of survivors, or anyone else you manage to drag into it. 

But something like a murder? With a small town like this, no wonder Steve was worried; maybe some of your anxiety has rubbed off on him. 

You spend a few more minutes listening to the details of the case as they come in, including that the body was found at the old trailer park on the other side of town. The police claim there’s multiple suspects, but you know what that means; either there’s a single suspect that they can’t locate or they have absolutely no leads.

“First that poor Holland girl and the mall last summer…” You mom starts, her tone growing more panicked the more she hears; you and Dustin share a quick look from across the room, “I just don’t know if I can take much more of this.”

You shift awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest at her words. Sometimes you forget that she doesn’t know what her children have been through, and a part of you hopes she never does — it would worry her ridiculously. She was a wreck after the Fourth of July, thinking you and Dustin had been visiting Steve at Scoops when Starcourt turned to ash. It was a believable excuse, but she’s been more protective of you two ever since — if that’s even possible.

The doorbell rings, snapping you from your thoughts. As Dustin gets up from the couch to answer it, you catch the time off the clock in the kitchen; it’s almost dinner time now. You should probably grab something to bring to Steve and Robin. 

Or, that’s what you’re thinking until a familiar redhead enters. 

It’s been… god, how long has it been? Since before you first left for Chicago last August. She’s grown more than you expected, but that shouldn’t shock you anymore especially with how tall Mike’s gotten. Dark clothes hang from her frame, not nearly as bright as those you’re used to seeing on her. While that would normally worry you the most, it’s the way her gaze lingers on you for a bit too long that does. The sight of you, leaned up against the wall on the other side of the room, stops her dead in her tracks. She didn’t expect to see you here, which in retrospect was a stupid thing to think. 

“Max!” Her name is forced from your throat in surprise. Your face brightens as you’re reunited with the girl, who looks anxiously back to your brother when he shuts the door. 

“How are you? What’s-”

“We need to talk,” Max interrupts you abruptly, her voice low. She simultaneously finds herself unable to look at you while also not wanting to look away, instead placing herself in this odd middle ground of nervous glances between you, the wall, and the floor. Seeing you standing in front of her for the first time in months, the realization is slamming into her — Max missed you more than she cares to admit. 

You wish that you couldn’t sense her tension around you. It makes you regret being so excited to see her because clearly the feeling isn’t mutual. 

Dustin brushes past her and leads the pair of you into his room; Max stands with her hands gripping tightly onto her arms and you mirror her, fingers clenched around your biceps as you perch yourself on the edge of your brother’s desk. You figure this spot gives her enough room away from you so she can be more comfortable. The thought makes you bite down on your teeth, hurt that this is what your relationship with the young girl has been reduced to.

Should you have done more to reach out to her?

The door closes behind Dustin. The two of you glance at each other as you wait for Max to speak. She’s biting down on her lip, brow furrowed intensely while she tries to compile her thoughts into something more understandable. But after a few seconds, she comes up short and just spits it out.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” Max shifts, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, “It was her. She was the one who was murdered. I saw the body this morning.”

An uneasy silence follows Max’s revelation. You don’t think you’d ever spoken to Chrissy, but she seemed like she was a decent human being — or more accurately, she didn’t really fit inside the box of ‘cheerleader’. It’s a shame someone ended her life before she could graduate; why does that seem to keep happening in this town? 

Dustin’s face pinches in confusion as the news settles, “Don’t the Cunningham’s live over by Loch Nora? What the hell was she doing at the trailer park?”

The same question had popped into your mind by the time your brother asked it. It’s hard to imagine someone like Chrissy Cunningham willingly spending her time in a place like that. 

Max leans all of her weight into her hip as she sighs, finally bringing her eyes up to dart between the two of you, seemingly aware that whatever piece of information she’s about to reveal is the real scandal. 

“She was found at the Munson's place.”

Both you and your brother’s brows skyrocket.

“That’s not all,” Max continues, “I saw her with Eddie last night. Late last night. He brought her back with him after the pep rally I guess-”

“Well, case closed,” You interrupt, letting out a noise similar to a laugh as you stand.

“Woah, hold on-” Dustin stops his pacing, spinning on his heel to address you directly and confront you over what you imply, “We don’t know that, okay? There’s no way Eddie killed Chrissy.”

For the first time since she arrived, Max meets your eyes for longer than a second. Clearly, she had come to a similar conclusion — her face is filled with doubt like yours.

You adjust your grip on your arms as Max speaks for you both, “We can’t rule out that Eddie wasn’t involved somehow-”

“Yes! Yes we can! You two don’t know him like I do, okay?” Dustin raises his voice, impassioned by the accusation against his friend, “I promise you he didn’t do this.”

Your tone serves as a warning, “Dustin-”

“You said the same thing to me about Steve!”

“Woah hey,” You point your finger at him rather aggressively, “That’s not even remotely the same thing.”

“Yes it is!”

“No it’s not! He was an asshole, he wasn’t accused of murder!”

“Well look where you are now! He’s movin’ in!”

Max jumps in, eyes widening slightly with your brother’s words, “You’re moving in together?”

You groan, moving your hands to drag one of your palms down your cheek in exasperation. You weren’t necessarily planning on keeping this a secret, but it is rather annoying that Dustin’s the one who told her first.

“Yes, he’s coming to live with me in Chicago. And Dustin, you gotta stop being the one to break the news about our relationship to people outside our family. I’m serious.” 

Dustin raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat on his bed; clearly he’s not going to be able to get through to you. He supposes he can’t blame you — you’re not likely to give someone the benefit of the doubt if they won’t do the same for you. But the longer he sits here, contemplating how to handle this, Max’s arrival confuses him; you have the same thought.

“You haven’t told the cops this, have you?”

Max darts her eyes up to meet yours; she hates that after all this time spent apart, you can still see right through her. The redhead exhales, blinking as she tries to organize her swirling mind once again. She really doesn’t want to say this.

“Last night, something else happened too.”

She squeezes her arms one last time before joining Dustin on the edge of his mattress; you have a feeling you’re going to want to sit down for this, so you sink into the desk chair as Max recounts the rest of her evening. 

She recalls the TV going out, along with flickering lights all through the trailer. She recalls Eddie’s scream of terror and the way he drove off in a frenzy. She recalls her train of thought, the fears that she couldn’t help but overwhelm her as she looked back over the memory. That’s what brought her here.

You force yourself to take a breath after she’s done, leaning forward to rest your arms on your legs.

“Okay, look. I know that I’m usually the one to predict that something… bad’s gonna happen…” You begin, slowly coaxing the two teens through your reasoning, “But I think it’s safe to assume that Chrissy didn’t die because of something else.”

Dustin’s face grows confused at what you imply. You, who gave him so much shit for pursuing the Russian code without thinking that maybe there was more to it, don’t believe that a mysteriously sudden death could be Upside Down related? Even Max seems concerned by your level-headed attitude; you’re not known for disregarding a problem like this. Even though she didn’t know she’d see you here, she’d be stupid if she didn’t admit that your presence wasn’t a relief; you’ve gone through this since the beginning. If anyone knows what to do, it’s you.

Dustin scoffs lightly, “I think we have every reason to believe Chrissy wasn’t killed by someone from Hawkins. Or… not our Hawkins, at least.”

Before you can retort, he’s speaking again, “Look, if there’s a chance that Eddie’s innocent, we need to see it through. Right? I mean… if you had been accused of something like this and there was actually a Demogorgon running around-”

Dustin lowers his voice, nervously glancing to the door — he doesn’t suspect your mother’s listening in, but you can never be too careful. You sigh, shaking your head as you take in his words, lips firmly pressed together; you hate that he’s right. 

“We need to find the only person that knows what actually happened,” Your brother concludes. 

For the first time in three years, things are finally goin well. Maybe you’re in denial, unable to see the truth that’s right in front of you because a part of you finally feels normal. You’re in college, visiting home for Spring Break. Your boyfriend’s moving in with you in the fall. You have a grip on your nightmares. You don’t think you’re ready to let go of any of that for a guy like Eddie Munson. 

You hope you can prove your brother wrong. For your own sake. 

—

There’s only a couple of cars in the parking lot at Family Video when the three of you lock up your bikes outside. If you’re going on a hunt for Eddie Munson and then perhaps whatever creature’s stalking Hawkins (if there is one), there’s no way you’re doing it without Steve and Robin. 

“Ah, well here I was expecting H squared when I should’ve known it’d be H cubed,” Robin says, setting her soda down on the counter, taking in the sight of you with Dustin and Max in tow. 

Max’s face twists as she leans her forearms up against the counter, “What?” 

Steve rolls his eyes; he’s heard this joke many times before because Robin’s quite proud of it. He gestures to himself, tone slightly exasperated, “Harrington…”

Then to you as you come around the counter, “Henderson…” 

Robin shrugs in agreement as she darts her gaze to Dustin, “Yeah, y’know, H squared. You make it three so H cubed.”

“Ew, no. Don’t lump me in with-” Dustin scowls, motioning dramatically to Steve just as he pulls you into his side for a quick kiss, a stupid smile spread over both your faces, “Whatever they’ve got goin’ on.”

You send Dustin a matching frown; the twinkle in your eye doesn’t quite fit as you curl your arm around Steve’s. Your brother blinks, suddenly remembering the task at hand, “Robin, how many phones do you have?”

“Phones? Wha-”

“Just answer the question!” Dustin shouts, “We don’t have a lot of time here, Buckley!”

“Uh… th-three,” She stutters, startled by the sudden shift in mood, “Two out here and one in the back.”

Steve grows puzzled by Dustin’s odd request, but he supposes there have been stranger things he’s asked for — like that time he made Steve drive him to the store for a coil of wire and a carton of milk. He’s still too scared to ask what that was for. 

Dipping his chin slightly, Steve whispers to you, “Do I want to know?”

Right as you’re in the middle of replying with a small shake of the head, Dustin tosses his backpack to the other side of the counter and jumps over; Robin grabs her drink just before his foot would have caught it, but none of the other items are so lucky. His stunt knocks nearly everything to the ground, which earns him a rather aggressive reaction from Steve, who pulls himself from you in record time to scold him.

“DUDE!” He shouts as Robin threads her hair into her hands, looking on at the chaos the younger boy has created. Dustin completely disregards the both of them and goes straight for the computer, hopping onto the stool previously occupied by Robin. Max mutters something under her breath, a breathless scoff escaping her.

“You know what? This is why I can’t take you anywhere,” You say, now properly shaking your head as you bend over to grab one of the signs that had fallen down. Robin takes it from you with a restrained smile, trying not to go crazy on the teen since Steve’s already doing a decent job of chewing him out.

Dustin eventually gets tired of Steve’s nagging and raises his voice to talk over him, addressing you and Max as he begins typing something, “Can you two please just catch them up while I take care of this?”

“Oh Jesus,” Steve groans, running one of his hands through his hair as he scoops up the VHS tapes on the ground, “Please don’t tell me he roped you into some Hellfire shit or something. I mean… what’s all this about Munson, anyway?”

You laugh before leaning back against the counter, “You’re not far off, actually.”

Your expression shifts before Steve can make some sort of snide comment; he recognizes that look anywhere and it worries him immensely. It’s the anxious one, the one that he hasn’t seen in a few months, but he could recognize in an instant. Something’s happened.

You let Max spill the details about your brother’s theory. Immediately, Robin’s intrigued — if there’s one thing she likes to sink her teeth into, it’s a good mystery. Steve, on the other hand, shares the same concerns that you do. He’s fairly convinced that he should just call the cops on Eddie right now, but he hates to admit that there’s a decent chance that Dustin’s right. He can see it in your eyes; this worry is starting to eat away at you. The faster the five of you find Eddie, the better.

—

“It’s kinda… Camp Crystal Lake out here, if you know what I mean.”

Max’s comment earns a sound of approval from you while you swipe the flashlight across the forest to your left. You squint, darting your eyes between the trees as you search for movement — human or otherwise. The redhead managed to get a lead out of one of Eddie’s friends, which you’re now pursuing in the evening moonlight. 

Fog rolls up from Lover’s Lake, floating above the water’s surface as you and the girl walk the gravel path down to the boathouse; Steve, Robin, and Dustin trail behind. The forest is still, eerily so — there aren’t any cicadas or grasshoppers to fill the silence at this time of the year. If there’s anything out there, you’d be able to hear it in an instant. You can’t tell if that’s a relief or not.

“Thankfully I don’t think we’re gonna run into a guy with a hockey mask,” You joke as the pair of you approach the boathouse, a small structure fashioned out of corrugated metal, “Maybe one with a machete though.”

Max’s laugh brings a small smile to your face. You missed her company; the two of you are ridiculously similar. Regardless of what happens here, you hope that maybe your friendship with her can begin to mend. It’s only taken a couple of hours, but glimmers of your dynamic with her are starting to return — neither of you could help it even if you tried.

You know it hasn’t been easy for Max to adjust and maybe you should’ve done more to be there for her. But then again, it’s hard to imagine you helping anyone grieve Billy Hargrove, so perhaps you should cut yourself some slack.

She points her flashlight through one of the few windows, reflecting a prism of refracted light back onto her cheek, “I mean… we are out here looking for a killer, so-”

“Alright don’t jinx us, Mayfield,” You playfully interrupt as you wait for the others to join you, “One problem at a time, yeah?”

“I’m just saying, we better not find you and Steve brutally stabbed to death because you two decided to sneak off or some-”

With a scoff, you shove her to shut her up, accompanied by one of your famous glares; Max stumbles as she giggles before you’re finally flanked by the trio. All of you nervously stand here for a moment, sharing silent glances as you try to determine which one of you will do the honors. To your surprise, Robin reaches for the door first.

The interior isn’t impressive to look at — not that you were expecting much. There’s only three walls, letting the chill from the spring evening infiltrate the room. You get the sense that the boathouse isn’t well taken care of; the air trapped within still manages to smell like mildew even with a light breeze filtering through. With all of your flashlights searching the space, the water casts patterns over the sparse amount of furniture, as well as your faces as you take it in.

“Wow, this place is a dump,” Steve mutters, which makes you elbow him in the side, “What? I’m telling the truth! Look at all this shit.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” 

“Just makin’ an observation, Henderson,” He replies, glancing over to you as he pushes forwards towards the right side of the room. Dustin follows him while Robin and Max take the other side, separated by a small rowboat docked in the center. You drift behind the boys.

Steve’s not wrong — the room’s filled with all kinds of miscellaneous junk. Based upon the contents alone and if it weren’t for the boat, you’d never know that’s what it’s meant to store. There’s crates packed to the brim with bottles of beer, a workbench with several unfinished projects scattered amongst the tools, and an old television from the ‘60s that reminds you of the one your grandparents had. 

There’s a collection of spare oars propped up against the wall, and among them is a four-pronged pitchfork. You laugh under your breath, wrapping your fingers around it and pulling it from the others before spinning it in your palm. 

“It’d suck if somebody tried rowing with this,” You joke. Your voice is only loud enough to reach Steve and Dustin’s ears, who both turn to you with slight smiles at what you imply. Your boyfriend reaches past you, his arm brushing against yours as he grasps one of the oars, a playful expression on his face, “Think you’d learn your lesson pretty quick if you tried.”

A soft giggle from you — Steve’s heart flutters. Then he remembers why you’re snooping in the first place and his eyes go stony; there’s gotta be somewhere someone could hide in here. His protective instinct grows. 

A nudge to your hip brings your focus back up to Steve, who’s now focused intently on the boat, coated in tarps and other materials. With a quick gesture of his head and a knowing glance sent your way, his gaze dark except for a sliver of caramel from the flashlight, you understand him; he doesn’t have to speak. He takes the oar in both hands and cautiously approaches the boat.

Dustin stops Steve with a sharp whisper before he can do anything, the oar raised like he’s about to impale something on the end. 

“What are you doing?”

Steve frustratingly glares at your brother, “He could be hiding in here, I don’t know!” 

Dustin scoffs, “Yeah right. And like that’s gonna do anything if there’s anyone in there anyways.”

With the thin end, Steve motions over to his left, “That’s what she’s for.”

Dustin hadn’t noticed you step in closer, completely silent even with one of your hands still gripping the pitchfork; the other holds the beam from your flashlight directly onto the boat, where Steve begins poking at the overlapping tarps. 

“Can never be too careful, Henderson. All of us have nearly died about a hundred times, in case you forgot,” Steve adds, the wood crinkling the canvas beneath it before he pulls away to look at Dustin properly, “So excuse me for taking the time to make sure we’re all saf-”

It happens so quickly you’re barely able to process what you witness. With Steve’s back turned to the boat, the tarps suddenly fly off. For a split second, you thought it had been Steve who moved them, but the wild and frizzy head of hair that appeared answered every question you had. 

Eddie Munson — the Dungeon Master for the Hellfire Club — has got a fist in Steve’s shirt and a broken bottle jammed up against his neck. The pair of them stumble backwards until Steve’s firmly pinned to the wall behind him, panic rushing over his face as he tries not to move.

That’s when something pokes Eddie in the ribs. 

“I’d let go of him if I were you.”

Eddie’s brazen eyes dart over his shoulder; he’s certainly not expecting to see you standing behind him. The pitchfork is clasped tightly between both your hands, the flashlight discarded onto the floor. It’s wedged at an angle where Eddie can feel the prongs with each shallow breath. Your eyes are rageful, fierce in their intensity beneath the crease in your brow. Eddie didn’t know what he was getting himself into threatening Steve like this.

He doesn’t know anything about you, or what you’d do to protect those you love. Regardless, Eddie gets the sense that you’re not bluffing; you’d shove this thing through him if he hurts Steve. 

You can barely hear your brother and the others shouting in fear as the room suddenly grows incredibly tense — when Steve moves, Eddie presses the bottle into his Adam's apple, which then causes you to shift the pitchfork to rest in between two of his ribs. The three of you are locked in a standoff; none of you are going to move. 

Dustin’s saying something about how you’re all here to help Eddie, but you can’t make out the details over the anger and terror that rushes through your brain. Every few milliseconds, you switch your focus from Eddie to Steve, trying to gauge how he’s doing as the other boy refuses to move. You swallow nervously.

Steve desperately wants to say something to you, assure you that it’s gonna be okay, because he can see the panic in your irises every time he meets your eyes. He doesn’t have a great view of you with his chin forced up like this, but that doesn’t matter — he could feel your stress from a mile away.

“Maybe we all should just… relax for a moment, yeah? We’re not here to hurt you,” Dustin, bless his heart, is trying desperately to calm Eddie, having forced himself in front of Robin and Max in an attempt to diffuse the situation. You can’t get a read on Eddie, unable to tell whether or not your brother’s words are getting through to him. 

Your heart’s pounding so loudly that Eddie has to be able to hear it; you don’t know how much longer you can stand here like this. How long has it been? Two minutes? Ten seconds? Time is an illusion to you while Steve’s got his eyes screwed shut, a sharp object pressed against his throat, Dustin’s words drowned out by your anxiety.

Suddenly, Eddie’s hold on Steve weakens and he finally lets your boyfriend go. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before he turns away, both of you equally uneasy and frightened, and the pitchfork clatters to the ground as Steve instinctively searches for you. Your demeanor shifts in an instant, nearly giving Eddie whiplash. If he wasn’t so caught up in his own thoughts, he’d be studying your interactions with Harrington — your behavior is confounding to him.

“Are you okay?” You murmur, voice hushed just quiet enough to only be heard by him, as he gasps for air; he couldn’t help but hold his breath through all of that. With your guidance, Steve sits on a nearby stack of crates, one of his own hands curled around his throat.

Robin whispers his name as she kneels on the ground beside you, taking a moment to check up on the both of you; the look she shares with you confirms that you’re going to be fine. She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder as she speaks again.

“He didn’t… like, get you, did he?” 

With a deep exhale, Steve shakes his head, darting his eyes between the two girls concerned in front of him. He’s incredibly lucky to have the pair of you looking out for him.

Steve doesn't know whether to wave off your concerns or welcome your comfort; he's a little shaken up, but nothing's hurt. He'd hate to make you worry about something so insignificant right now. But from how wide your eyes are, how much your voice shakes as you whisper to him, Steve knows your steady touch is more for you than it is for him.

“I’m okay,” Steve mutters when he gains the strength to speak. He can tell that you need a bit more reassurance as Robin seems satisfied with that answer — your fingers are still trembling against his skin from the adrenaline. 

“Here, lemme see,” You pinch his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, tilting his head back so you can inspect his skin. Steve swallows as your other hand gently skims across his throat, searching for any cuts or blood; he has to stop himself from shuddering at the light contact. When you can't seem to find anything, you pull his chin back down.

Steve manages a small smile, his tone genuine despite the hushed way he speaks, “Thanks.”

You nod once as you remove your hands from him — it’s obvious he doesn’t just mean checking him for wounds. Your ability to switch between his loving girlfriend and the most dangerous person in the room makes his head spin. 

“Of course. Always.”

Steve can tell your words have more than one meaning too.

Dustin had convinced Eddie to drop the shattered bottle, which he tossed into the lake for good measure. Now that there’s some distance between you, you’re finally able to get a decent look at the fugitive. 

It’s strange to see someone clad in so much leather and metal tucked into themselves on the floor. But Eddie… Eddie’s terrified. You wonder for a moment if it’s because of you, until you recognize the nervous fidgeting. His legs are folded into his chest, posture hunched as he takes a few deep breaths himself, spinning the ring around his middle finger. 

You’d recognize that type of anxiety anywhere — with eyes glazed over in retrospection. In horror.

The oxygen is sucked from your lungs.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach as you begin listening in, leaning against a pillar in the room. You missed the first part of the conversation while tending to Steve, who now stands beside you, but you seem to have picked a good time to pay attention. Eddie’s worked himself up, voice cracking and shuddering as he recounts what happened last night. The way he describes Chrissy’s death, bones snapping and twisting unnaturally… you know he’s not lying. You had been able to deduce that from the look on his face alone, but hearing confirmation of it stings so much worse. 

As you look over to Steve, his hand smooths across your back comfortingly. When his arm returns to his side, you wrap your fingers around his elbow and press your cheek to his shoulder. He swallows harshly before leaning in to kiss your hair softly. 

Dread rolls over you both; it’s happening again. This feels different than the last three times.

The attack that killed Chrissy came from the other side, from the Upside Down, you’re certain of it. There’s no other possible explanation — if there was a gate, you would’ve known by now. The thought of this spellcaster, this… Vecna being able to psychically cross the barrier between your dimensions makes your blood run cold. 

Another awful thought floods your brain; El’s in California. You’ve never been able to beat this without her. 

This morning — the pair of you and Steve bathed in the warmth from your love and the sunlight — already seems like a distant memory.

—

taglist (CLOSED): @stevebabey / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @jennifersminds / @l0ve-0f-my-lifee-blog / @loove-persevering / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @agentsimmonsfitz / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @luvzatte / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @steveshcrringtons / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @mlmarint / @moronphilia / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl / @lovinnoya / @graciehams  / @i-mmunity / @gothmingguk / @fangeekkk / @octaviackles / @hot-mess-express99 / @sarahcameronswife / @the-local-toast / @kamala-khann / @the-passionate-freak / @mjtalksaboutanything​ / @circesstars​ / @astroponyo​ / @lostinwonderland314​ / @yeswhatever33​ / @raggedyoldwitch​ / @chaoticsteve​ / @walkin-in-hawkins​ / @live-the-fangirl-life​ / @aspcun11​ / @lionfart​ / @petty131313​ / @jinxed-jk​ / @jureuminho​ / @slipawaylrh​

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #almost paradise

[storiesofsvu]

Amanda Rollins HC's

Who reaches out to new neighbours?

It’s probably going to be Amanda. Not that she’s overly social, but she knows that she’s in an apartment with a medium sized dog and two kids, so her direct neighbours she always wants to meet so she knows who to hand off a bottle of wine or junk food gift basket kinda thing whenever they have a night that’s a little bit too loud and obnoxious. She’s also a cop, and protective of her girls so she’s gonna notice who lives in the building and who the regular guests are, especially on her floor.

Who remembers to buy healthy food?

Okay, hear me out, it’s going to be both of you, but that DOES NOT mean that Amanda is going to use or eat it before it goes rotten and you’re the one left cleaning out the fridge.

Who remembers to buy junk food?

Amanda. She’s the one that always makes sure to have the chicken nuggets, tater tots, mini corn dogs for the girls, and honestly, sometimes they’re for her too. They’re easy to cook, they don’t take a lot of time and she doesn’t have to put in a lot of effort to get a semi balance meal ready so she can keep working and keep the apartment clean.

Who fixes the oven when it’s broken?

Neither of you. You call Carisi and when he can’t figure it out, you call the super who gets things properly fixed.

Who waters the plants/feeds the pets?

Amanda. She’s had Frannie for a long time already so it’s part of her routine. She wakes up in the morning, makes a quick pit stop in the bathroom, maybe takes Frannie out so she can pee and then its breakfast for Frannie and coffee for Amanda before she starts on breakfast and wakes up the girls.

Who wakes up earlier?

Frannie or Billie lol. Jesse’s old enough she can get up on her own, grab an Uncrustable and turn the tv on by herself. But Frannie’s usually the first up, nudging at the two of you or pawing at the door (cause you cannot tell me Amanda does not let that dog sleep in her bed). So, between the two of you, it’s Amanda cause she has more duties to take care of, BUT if she’s taking Frannie out you’re definitely going to get up and make sure the girls have supervision and Billie has a snack too.

Who makes the bed?

Probably neither of you, I don’t think it’s something Amanda really cares about, esp on busy mornings she’s got enough going on. But if anyone does it’s whoever was the second person out of bed.

Who makes the coffee?

I like to think that it auto brews. Otherwise Amanda will turn on a pot to brew before she takes Frannie out so it’s nice and piping hot by the time she gets back and everyone else is up

Who burns the breakfast?

Amanda. We already know she’s terrible in the kitchen and very bare minimal to what she can make. She’s great with eggo’s, but the moment she tries to make waffles from scratch?! They’re completely blackened and you have to open the window to make sure the smoke alarm doesn’t go off.

How do they let each other know they’re leaving the house?

You usually know when Amanda is going out, when she’s leaving so it’s usually just her calling out through the apartment that she’s leaving and will see you later.

How do they greet each other when one of them gets home?

The two of you always search each other out for a quick kiss and greeting when one of you gets home. Amanda finds it particularly heartwarming when she comes home to you and the girls curled up on the couch watching a movie, dinner eaten, dishes in the sink. The entire thing makes her heart swell.

Who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often?

Flowers? You. Chocolates? Amanda, and secretly they’re actually for her, but she knows you like them and it gives her an excuse to indulge.

Who picks the movie on movie night?

The girls. They always get to make the first choice and get their faves in before bedtime. Your recommended movies and shows are always littered with family friendly and Disney stuff because it’s what they love and what you can all watch together. Otherwise you and Amanda swap back and fourth.

Their favourite kind of move to watch?

We all know Amanda is a sucker for trashy reality television, so she’s about the dramatics, but homegirl loves and adores a good rom com!!

Who first suggests a pillow fort?

Amanda, the girls, or a combination of both and before you know it the entire living room is a chaotic but controlled mess of pillows, blankets, cushions and laughter as the four of you build the most epic fort ever seen in manhattan

Who tries to distract the other during the movie?

Amanda. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it but her hands are lingering, trailing across your body, lips meeting your bare skin at more frequent intervals before you’re riled up and letting out a huff, pouncing on her

Who falls asleep first

You know Amanda has trouble sleeping, so you always wait for her to fall asleep first unless you’re absolutely fucking exhausted and simply can’t. You like to hold her to you, let her nestle against your chest as her breathing regulates and she falls into a peaceful sleep

Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Amanda’s usually the little spoon. She has some time accepting it, she takes a while to get used to giving someone else not the power…but you get what I’m trying to say, right? Lololol. My brain is broken rn. She loves feeling your arms and body wrapped around her, she feels impeccably safe, loved and adored and wouldn’t have it any other way.

____________________________

@mickey-gomez @naturalxselection @hbkpopp @bisexualcrowley @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @lesbianspacecowboy @wannabe-fic-reader @lawandorderimagines @gaylorrds @whimsicallymad @beccabarba @oliviaswifey @screenee @mysticfalls01 @alexbllake @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @wandas-wife @emskisworld @lawandorderuswnt @wandasbrat @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @sia2raw @dxtery @anlin2058 @swimmingstudentchaos891 @yesterdaysgone @itisdoctortoyousir @softgamerking @summergeezburr @alexxavicry @thatesqcrush

#amanda rollins #amanda rollins x reader #amanda rollins headcanons #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu

[quietlyimplode]

different names for the same thing - part two

Part One (but can be read as stand alone)

Warnings: injuries/blood

Word Count: 2.3k (gif not mine)

Summary: Clint and Natasha finish a mission, exhausted and injured. All is not as it seems. Yelena holds out hope her sister can save her.

A/N: so you can thank @broken--bow for the continuation of this - mistakes are mine, there might be a part three (esp if your musings take you there) but take it as open ending for now.

Main Masterlist

…

Yelena stares.

Disbelief at what she’s seeing.

She knows that walk, that strut.

A strange mix of anger and love burns deep in her.

Natasha’s red head disappears as the man follows alongside her.

“Have you placed the charges?”

The call comes through her comms and she shakes her head to get rid of it.

Heading up the front of the building, she decides she’s doesn’t care about the cameras. She’ll delete the footage anyway, or someone will.

The benefit of working for an organisation is that they have enough self interest to cover her back so that no one comes after her.

“Sloppy,” she says out loud when she sees how Natasha and her partner have left the one charge.

She rolls her eyes and lays down two more, pocketing one for herself.

The red room doesn’t need to know she has her own cache of weapons, they know nothing about.

The magazines for the pistols, the C4, the throwaway identities; tantamount to death if they ever found out.

But still, Yelena lives in hope.

One day.

Maybe.

Things won’t be this bad.

Life might be different.

She hears them on the roof.

It seems like an idiotic move, set charges for a building to blow; and then go up, rather than run away.

Yelena leaves, only looking back to see them both abseiling down the building.

She counts down in her head.

At one, the charges blow, and even though she is almost a block away, the blow back of heat is still warm on her back.

.

The red room has power.

They are ghosts in the night, the baba yaga, they are everywhere and nowhere and Yelena hates them.

There’s nothing she can do.

There’s nothing she can ever do.

Seeing Natasha, the great Avenger, feels like it’s something though, maybe more anger, maybe something like hope.

What if her sister could save her? What if she could get her and the other widows out?

No more Dreykov.

No more training, or dogs, or handlers.

No more Red Room.

It’s a thought that sits with her into the night, as she stares at the lone block of C4, ready for her secret storage container.

There’s a plan that seems to be formulating in her head. A thought that makes her feel a bit nauseous in its ambition.

Placing the block away, she readies herself for bed; the last night before she goes back to the horrors. She knows she should be sleeping whilst she can, but even with the door rigged and cameras set up, she can’t sleep.

Natasha can’t save her.

But maybe she can push her to do something.

Even if she’s never shown any interest in doing it before, even though she has the might of super powered people, and she still hasn’t come for her.

Yelena doesn’t often allow herself to dwell on their relationship, it feels to fraught with what if’s.

What if Dreykov allowed them to stay together?

What if Natasha actually came for her?

Would they both still be alive?

Yelena doesn’t think so.

It’s likely they would have been made to fight each other, hate each other, kill each other.

She would like to think they would have tried to escape together.

And everyone knows how that goes.

Her mind flits to the mangled bodies of Katya, Polina and Nadia. Their escape attempts all admirable and more involved than the next.

But still.

Failures, all of them.

Who is she to think that she is any different?

The red room is a ghost.

Eyes everywhere and nowhere.

Yelena gets up and off the bed, checks the doors, windows and alarms again.

The feeling that someone is watching, is haunting.

She glances at the clock and groans.

2am.

If she goes to sleep now, she’ll have four hours of sleep.

Natasha can help.

Natasha will help.

Anger and love boil in gut again, but this time it doesn’t feel so caustic.

.

July, she tries again.

Ten weeks after the explosion, she wonders just how to get the attention of the avengers, of Natasha or perhaps whatever Shield is using as it’s pseudonym these days.

She’s told no one, kept her head down and finally been sent out again.

It’s like Dreykov knew, maybe from the look in her eye when she returned. He’d put her into medical, into reprogramming.

It had felt like weeks before she had felt herself again. The cobwebs thick, as she’d pushed through to get back to herself.

She never lost the thought though.

Natasha.

Her only chance.

She can’t escape; she’ll die; but if Natasha rescues her….

Her first mission out is of course in America.

Las Vegas of all places.

It’s loud, and full of people.

She blends in easily, her American accent coming back naturally, as she laughs easily at the check in of the hotel.

“Thank you,” she tells the woman, taking her card key.

The MGM is a sea of people, hotel rooms and chaos - all the things she can use to help her orchestrate a plan.

Even though this is all she’s thought of, she knows it cannot be planned; because if it is, it would be pried from her mind.

The effects of the after mission debrief include the stock standard sodium pentathol concoction; and she knows that the more she believes the lie the easier it is to tell it under the effects of a drugged mind.

Sitting cross legged on the bed, she separates her own mission (a simple intel gathering), and the one she wants more than she cares to admit.

If she leaves a mark, they’ll know; but she feels it has to be obvious to Natasha. Obvious enough to know that it was her, or perhaps the red room.

She’s on American soil, so the likelihood of whatever she does getting fed up the chain is a good option.

Killing the mark, she supposes, does that, and it’s not against her mission parameters.

She wonders if she could make him swallow something first, so when they open him up, they have to take notice.

The more she thinks of it, the more she likes it.

She takes out the bag of pills they’ve sent her with, and she sighs. Nothing of use to harbor a message in.

There’s two things she can do.

Metal or plastic.

Metal seems like the better choice, sturdy, easy to carve into, and not digestible, no matter how long it stays in the body.

Plastic is the same but perhaps harder to make sure that whatever message is on it, stays.

Yelena sighs and stands, making her way to the gift shop. Everything feels like an effort lately.

A magnet is as good as anything.

She smiles to the woman manning the shop, walks around and walks out; the small magnet sharp in her hand.

Back in the safety of her suite, she stares at it, unsure what to do next.

An hourglass seems too obvious.

Their initials more obvious still.

Deciding carefully, she puts a set of coordinates, one’s she knows off by heart. Ones she swore she’d never go back to.

Lies, only lies live there, but still, maybe they’re good for something.

.

Natasha exits medical, the follow up from her concussion and broken arm. Thankfully it had been short, and the clearance easily done.

Though she had been cleared for four weeks, they had wanted to make sure the surgery from her arm had resulted in a full recovery; it had also meant low ball missions, talking to dignitaries, congress and consulting.

She’s bored out of her mind.

Clint and Tony had been allowed out together, even Steve had. Her anger had been palpable and she knows she had not been a good friend the last couple of weeks.

So much so, even in the shooting range Clint had avoided her, their fight over chicken nuggets the night before still fresh even though they hadn’t gone to bed angry.

Natasha feels her phone buzz.

“LA - mission request #67265 - investigation into the murder of Senator Erend. Your presence is required.”

She smiles.

Finally.

Heading to her room, she logs onto the computer for the full mission debrief and frowns.

She needs to find Clint.

.

“It can’t be.”

Clint stares at the picture, zooming in.

“It has to be.”

“And you’re sure of the coordinates?”

Natasha’s stare is enough for him to raise his hands in submission.

“Okay, okay, I was just asking.”

She takes back the tablet and zooms in, glancing at the picture again.

“It has to be her, right?”

“Or Melina?”

Clint shrugs.

“She’s dead,” Natasha replies.

“And just over two months ago, you thought Yelena was too.”

She sits, and stares at the picture, just as Clint had done, trying to find if there was any other information, anything that gave a clue about what the hell was going on.

Clint nudges her.

“Do you think it’s time to talk to Fury? Or even Maria?”

There’s a pit that sinks every time she thinks of what Yelena being here, and sending messages of distress, might mean.

“Do you think they’re back?”

Her biggest fear voiced in the smallest voice.

He takes her hand and squeezes it.

“I don’t know.”

They sit in silence as Clint thinks on the evidence that Natasha had presented when she had been fully cognizant. He’d dismissed it because of her concussion, the woman leaving could have been anyone; the larger explosion could have just been because of the placement of their c4.

Her evidence had been circumstantial at best.

This made it less likely that that was a coincidence.

“What do you want to do?”

It might be that she wanted to do nothing, maybe that she would just let this go and see where it takes them; though even as he thinks the words, he knows that’s not her.

“Can we talk to Tony?”

He pulls his phone out and dials, the picture of them both on the screen before Tony picks up with a frown.

“You rang?”

“You busy?”

“You want to do my work?” There’s a snark to his voice that makes Natasha slightly on edge, and want to answer snark with snark.

“We need some help.”

“Of course you do,” he bites.

“When’d you sleep last?” Natasha asks suddenly.

Tony mellows as he doesn’t answer straight away.

“I… uhhh… I don’t remember,” he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and then looking into the phone for the first time.

“It’s okay, we’ll sort this, you get some rest,” she smiles, shallowly.

Tony visibly deflates at Natasha’s kindness.

Clint knows he wouldn’t have approached that the same, and he knows that Natasha’s ability to read people is better than anyone’s.

“No, no, it’s okay, how can I help?”

“I think the Red Room is back, or a Russian subsidiary posing as the red room but with all the same tricks and recruiting policies.”

She deadpans the words but Clint knows the pain behind it.

Tony doesn’t know, but he seems to understand.

“Um, okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Follow the money? If there’s anything happening, likely there’s some old money involved, maybe a company, or import/export business?”

Tony nods.

“Anything else?”

Clint looks to Natasha and she drops her head in agreement.

“I’m going to send you a sketch of someone, can you digitize it and do some facial recognition over Europe,” she starts.

“And Vegas,” Clint finishes, showing her where the senator was killed.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “and Vegas over the last seven days.”

Tony scoffs.

“Do you know how many people that is? How many hits you’re going to get?”

Natasha wipes her hand over her face, the motion mirroring Tony’s.

“I know, I know, it’s a long shot. We’re looking for someone.”

“Yelena?”

Natasha’s eyes narrow.

“You were concuss and spouting names, Clint gave me some skeleton details- in front of you I might add.”

She looks sharply to Clint, “I don’t.. remember.”

“You didn’t miss much,” he assures, “just me telling him that she’s your pseudo-sister and you were together for a while when you were little.”

She shrugs.

“I want to find her,” she confesses.

“Will you help?”

The enormity of Natasha asking for help is not lost on Tony and he seems to realise it.

He nods his head and smiles shallow.

“Of course.”

.

It’s up to Natasha, Yelena thinks.

The after mission debrief is nothing special. She’s drugged again and put under, but when she wakes she still feels the same sense of accomplishment she felt coming in.

There’s nothing in Ohio, even though she sent the coordinates.

But as Yelena settles in her cot, with the metallic cuffs around her ankles and the solid doors locking into place, she closes her eyes and dreams of a world where she’s free.

.

#yelena belova #nat & yelena #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #yelena belova fic #natasha romanoff fic #clintasha fanfiction #tony stark #hawkeye #marvel fic #clintasha fic #red room

[tickly-stuff]

ALSO ALSO IN THE MINI EPISODE WHERE OUR TURTLES WERE LIL BABYS AND LEO WAS THE VILLIAN I think that when the villian gets caught they tickle the shit outta him (esp leo bc yk how he is he wouldnt give up so quickly LOL)

YES YES YES YES YES YES. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS. YES.

Hero’s and Villains

turtle tots!!💞

Summary: Leo get caught as the villain during training but doesn’t wanna face the consequences

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Today was a calm and quiet day in the lair. Well, it would’ve been if the boys weren’t busy training. It was a game called “Hero and Villain”. And they loved it. It wasn’t necessarily training. It was just in good fun.

The objective of the game is for one of the four turtles to be a villain, and the other three to be the heroes. If the villain gets caught, they get tickled until they say the code word “cowabunga”. And Mikey was the villain for this round.

Mikey was currently winning, running away from the three constrasting turtles with all his might. He was carrying “artifacts” which we’re actually just random items from Splinter’s room.

“Mwahahaha!! You’ll never catch me fiendish villains!! Wait. I’m the villain. So would it be fiendish heroes? Whatever!!” Mikey stated with mirth in every word.

“You can’t run forever Mikey!!” Leo yelled. It was more of a Tom and Jerry kind of situation. Mikey had the upper hand due to his size. He was small, which allowed him to fit through certain spots. And he was energetic enough to tire the others out for a little bit to buy himself some time.

Meanwhile while his brothers were catching their breath, Mikey had hid in a nearby closet.

“Phew! Alright! I think I’m safe. I have all of my precious artifrcats. They’ll never find me here! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!” Mikey attempted an evil laugh, trying to stay in character. He was never really fit to be a villain but he was nominated for the game and those were the rules. Whoever is nominated or outvoted has to play that position. And he really tried his best.

Unfortunately, he had laughed a bit too loud. So loud that his hiding spot was no longer hidden. Suddenly two big hands wrapped him and scribbled themselves all over his sides.

“Gotcha Mikey!!” Raph exclaimed. Continuing his tickle attack.

“GAH! Aahat least give mehe a waharning first!” Mikey said between giggles.

“No chance little bro! You can’t just tell the villain ‘I’m gonna tickle you now’! ” A different voice said behind him. Tickling the back of his neck.

“LEHEHO!!! Cuhut it ouhut!” Mikey said with full blown laughter. His knees had gave out and he was now in a ball on the floor.

“Nuh uh! You have to say the code word if you want us to stop! And for your information, it’s ‘artifacts.’ ” Donnie said, squeezing Mikey’s knees.

Michelangelo. Totally. Lost it.

“COHOHOWABUHUHUNGA!!! COHOHOHOWABUHUHUNA!!!!!!”

The three brothers immediately stopped their tickle attack and went to aid their brother.

“You good Mikey?” Raph asked sympathetically. The four of them made sure that they never went too far. With anything. And if they did, they would do whatever it takes to make it up to one another. That was their agreement. Their bond.

“Yeheheah ihihm fine. Thahat was fun.” Mikey stated. The phantom sensations causing him to giggle to himself a bit. A wide grin plastered on his face.

A few minutes had passed. They decided to rest for a bit to give themselves a break. But all they had to do was look at each other, and they all stood up.

“So who should be the villain this round?” Mikey asked.

I personally vote Leo! I’m sure he would fit the job! He’s agile, swift. You can do it! Right Leo?” Donnie stated. The spiny soft shell turtle’s words leaked of amusement. He knew Leo wouldn’t last. He just wanted to get him back for eating the last slice of pizza last week.

“What!? No way!! I am NOT. read my lips. NOT being the villain.” Leo said nervously with a shake to his head.

“Aww is the wittle baby leo scared of his brwothers? scared of being tickled?” Donnie said with wiggling fingers.

“Stop it D! I’m not scared! And I’m not a baby! And stop wiggling your fingers like that!” Leo said with a slight blush to his cheeks. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

They always gave the villain a 10 second head start to get themselves situated.

Whereas the other three we’re strategizing on how to capture him, Leo was contemplating. He knew Donnie was out for revenge and he knew that he would find him in no time. He would make it his mission. Any minute now he would burst through that door with Raph and Mikey screaming- “LEONARDO!”

“AAAAHH!!!” Leo screamed and ran as fast as he could. It’s not like he minds being tickled. But being tickled by Donatello? Could. Not. Stand it. He would always tease you about how much he was right.

Donnie was right on his tail. He wasn’t as fast as Leo but he sure wasn’t slow. Mikey and Raph followed behind.

Leo took a sharp corner to quickly hide behind a wall. This was no longer Hero’s and Villains, oh no. This was sibling war. One has the upper hand due to smarts and the number of people. But the other has speed and agility.

Due to Donnie’s lack of speed he hadn’t seen where Leo had went. So he started searching. He had made hand signals that told Mikey and Raph to split up.

They had understood and the hunt was on.

They looked everywhere. Donnie’s room, Raph’s room, Mikey’s room, Splinter’s room even Leo’s own room! Still no sign of him.

Until Donnie had looked around and found two. turtle. feet.

Leo wasn’t paying attention at all. So it was Donnie’s turn to strike.

He slowly crept up to Leo. Trying no to make any noise. When he finally got up to him, he reached for his foot and took it swiftly with a “HA!” and began tickling it.

“WOAH!! DOHOHONNIEE KNOCK IHIT OHOFF!!” Okay. Leo lost. He tried every trick up his sleeve and Donnie STILL caught him!! well. He had a good run.

“Never!! You were caught!! Some villain you are. RAPH! MIKEY! I FOUND HIM!!” Donnie stated.

Raph and Mikey immediately came and started tickling him everywhere. His neck, hips, torso, underarms and sides.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA WAIT GUHUYS!!!!!” Leo was completely losing it. Raph pinned Leo by his hands with his knees so he wouldn’t and couldn’t move. So he just endured the tickling. Besides, it felt nice to laugh like this.

“Well Nardo, do you admit defeat or would you like this to continue?” Donnie said in an evil voice.

“COHOHOHOWABUHUHNGA!!!!” Leo yelled out. And the tickling immediately stopped.

“Glad you finally came to your senses brother.” Donnie said to Leo with a noogie.

“Yeah yeah whatever. I NOMINATE DONNIE TO BE VILLAIN THIS ROUND!” Leo said with a prod to Donnie’s side that made him yelp.

Leo had a wide grin on his face. “This is gonna be fun.”

PERSONAL OPINION THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST FICS IVE EVER MADE.

#fluff #brothers #rottmnt #tickle #fic #request #donnie #raph #leo #Mikey #CRYING #💖💖💖💖

[nyanggk]

LOVE ONLINE ! —

★彡CHAPTER 22彡★ : HEEYN DEBUT (WRITTEN W/ IMAGES)

★彡pairing彡★ : gamer!heeseung × gamer!fem!reader

★彡genre彡★ : slice of life, crack, smau, strangers to lovers, romance, fluff, comedy

★彡warning彡★ : profanity, cringe, heeseung is a perv!, lots of gaming references esp. league, NSFW

★彡based on彡★ : real life!, fun fact: this is actually how me and my long-term boyfriend met — with some modifications.

★彡a/n彡★ : as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are always very much appreciated. feel free to give me your feedback and critique.

"Noona!"

You hear a loud scream coming from a few feet in front of you. The sound makes you look up from your phone and onto the three boys who were cheering ahead of you.

There stood Jungwon, Riki, and lastly, your beloved Heeseung. The three of them waved their arms whilst calling out your names, trying to gather your attention. They screamed even louder once you lock eyes with them and replying with a big wave of your own.

From beside you, your best friend, Jake, breaks into a full on sprint, tackling the younger two, Jungwon and Riki, into a brotherly embrace, nearly knocking the both of them to the ground with his sudden weight. The three of them erupt into a fit of laughter as it seemed as if they were in their own happy little world while holding each other tenderly in their arms.

"Jake hyung! Jake hyung!" The both of them chant simultaneously.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person, hyung." Jungwon says. The boy is adorable with his killer dimples and feline eyes as he smiled cheerfully at the sight of his hyung in front of him.

Jake gives him a adoring pat on the head, cooing at how sweet Jungwon is.

"Hyung, you're shorter than I expected you to be." The youngest comments teasingly while bumping shoulders with the latter.

Jungwon bursts into a fit of giggles at Rikis comment while your best friend sends him a playful glare, obviously too happy for his mood to ever be ruined. "Yah! I'm 6ft 2, Okay?!" He lies. "And plus, you're just a giant freak. Totally not normal."

You can't help the happy grin that dawns on your face as you watch how the three of them interact from where you stood. Jakes expression is a carbon copy of the smiles that Jungwon and Riki wore and your heart couldn't help but melt at the sight.

Although you weren't always there to watch the small group interact, it was quite apparent that even with the short amount of time that Jake has spent in their company, you could easily tell that they've already formed such a caring and loving relationship with your best friend.

After the three were done saying their own greetings, as well as the older giving them more loving pats on the head, Jake then turns to his other half.

"Ayo, my mannn!" He drags out, taking the older in for a much needed embrace. "Heeseung hyung, Aren't you going to say hi to YN?" He teases with a mischievous smirk.

The comment immediately makes Heeseung shy as he peeks at you through his bangs to offer you a shy smile. It's obvious that he's unsure whether he should hug you, greet you, or maybe even kiss you.

So, you take the initiative and offer him one of your prettiest smiles whilst waving a shy hand to greet him.

And from that single act, Heeseung felt as if his heart was about to turn into gold.

Tbusbwas almost because about four months ago, you were like a dream to him.

You were a girl whom he suddenly met all the way from across Asia and seamlessly became friends with immedietly. A girl who played league with him and his friends. A girl whom he developed feelings for as she unknowingly made her way through every inch of his fragile heart and consumed his mind, body, and soul. Living so far away from him, he felt as if you could just slip out from his grasps at any given time and that petrified him because since when did you turn into someone whom he truely cared about and not just some random e-girl he met through the Internet? Truthfully, you'll never know just how hard the boy has fallen for you over the span of just a few months. And you'll continue to be clueless as he continues to fall deeper and deeper into you.

Lee Heeseung always loved the way you smiled through the camera, your lips always wearing some sort of lip product because you had told him that you suffered from anemia which made you look incredibly pale. Heeseung has told you countless of times before in private that you were pretty no matter what and that you shouldn't be insecure of something like that.

However, you were still too insecure to not put on some type of lipstick or lip tint. And so, he let you be, saying that as long as you were happy and knew that it didn't faze him at all then it was okay.

Nevertheless, he was ecstatic. It's an insecurity you shared with him and he can't help but feel proud at the fact that you found the same comfort he found in you with him to be able to confess something like that .

That's why he loved you lips, your smile.

But at this moment, you look so pretty just standing there, a random bear grasped in your right hand. He didn't know whether to focus on your eyes, your smile, or the way your cheeks looked so soft under the moon light. He couldn't possibly choose just one thing to focus on.

There was no bad side to you and if there was, then Heeseung knew he would come to fall in love with it as well because that's how he is.

One of the many things about Lee Heeseung that you paid great attention to back then were his big bambi like eyes.

Whenever he'd send pictures of himself. You would always coo at how adorable his big doe eyes shone against the light. It seemed like his eyes truely held the stars and you would've believed that fact in an instant because thats how much you loved looking at them even through the phone.

As they say, the eyes are the windows the soul.

And now, as he stood towering you, pretty eyes boring into yours, you swore your heart has skipped multiple beats at this point. You've always thought that Heeseung was handsome— even before you found out what he looked like.

His voice seemed as if it belonged to an angel and you swore it most likely was because when you had heard it the first time while on call with the others during clash practice, you audibly sighed in admiration. His voice sounded so sweet and pretty it was just impossible for him to have been ugly. Not that your feelings would've changed for him if he was but you wouldn’t lie that it certainly adds to the character.

He still had the same shy smile he initially gave you. However, it slowly turns into a subtle smirk as he catches you checking him out. This makes your cheeks visibly flush, eyes darting everywhere but him and his figure in front of you.

He can he be so hot and cute at the same time?

"Hi YN," He says, smirking. All this does is make your cheeks warmer You feel so small amidst four tall guys that you can't even gather yourself to give a proper reply without stuttering.

"God, you guys are so cheesy." Jake groans as he watches the two of you practically send heart eyes towards each other. "Just hug already! Kiss! Do something!"

Easy for you to say, you're the the one meeting the—

With a not so light shove coming from your ever so loving best friend, you and Heeseung stumbled towards eschother, taking the other in for a warm embrace.

It was awkward at first. The feeling of the other wrapped against you is so foreign and surreal that it made your bodiee tense. Nonetheless, with time, the two of you grew to find comfort in one another's presence as your bodies slowly relax into the embrace.

Your head finds the crook of Heeseungs neck and you delightedly stay there. "It's nice to finally meet you, Heeseung." You murmer, smiling shyly against his warm skin.

"You're acting as if we haven't been talking to each other every day for the past couple of months." You hear him say, feeling a hand soothing the skin of your back as the both of you swayed.

Everyone simply became irrelevant as the two hugged each other. Even when the both of you continued to sway to a silent rhythm, nothing mattered. And you wouldn't have it any other way. It didn't matter if it looked weird to the people passing by. Your friends teasing remarks and snickers also fell into deaf ears. And lastly, neither did the two of you cared enough to notice the soft shutter of Rikis camera as he takes a picture of your first meeting.

"I missed you." He says, head now buried in your hair.

"Heeseung," You call out whilst giggling. Your breath hitting the sensitive part of his skin ignites a row of goosebumps to arise in his skin, sending delightful shivers to run down his spine. "I'm right here."

You're here with him now.

He's not seeing you through monitor screen anymore. He could go to your house and knock on your door whenever he misses you and you'd be there to answer. You're not out of reach anymore and that thought alone makes him almost tear up. Even for just a few months he's thankful that he has you here by his side.

"Yeah," He agrees, nose buried in your hair as he breathed in your shampoo and sighing. "Change of plans, Alright? I'm taking you on adate tomorrow instead. These guys wanna spend some time with you before I have you all to myself." He says, gesturing towards the younger two who were adorably grinning at you.

"Aww, you guys are so cute! Come here and give me a hug" You coo, detaching yourself from Heeseungs warm arms and onto Riki and Jungwon so you could give them the hug they were patiently waiting for. "Of course I'll spend time with you two!" You cheer, ruffling their hair. This earns you a series of protests from the both of them. However, they don't make any move to get away from your embrace, simply allowing you to do whatever you want because at the end of the day, they missed you too.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake moves to slide next to Heeseungs side, whispering carefully for you not to hear. "Are we actually going because they wanted to or because its not ready yet?"

"What? No!" He yells in a whispering tone. "The guys actually wanted to spend time with her so meh, why not?"

"If that's the case then why aren't the other three here?"

"Well... that's cause Sunoo and Jay went to check over some stuff for tomorrow." Heeseung replies, smiling cheekily whilst scratching the back of his head.

"Gosh," Jake sighs, shaking his head, feigning dissapointment. "And Sunghoon hyung? Where's he?"

"A-ah, Him?" Heeseung stutters out. "I-I don't know."

"Hyung... I can tell when you're lying." Jake says. "What did you do, hyung?"Jake presses on.

"I didn't do anything, okay?!" He exclaims by accident. Because of this, your attention is pulled away from the two younger boys for a moment to look at the other two who stood behind you. You raise your eyebrows at them in question only to be replied with a stiff shrug. Nonetheless, you let them be as you were too preoccupied at the story Riki was telling you about how there was a ghost haunting the apartment and how Jay couldn't sleep in his own.

"Are you getting jealous again?" Jake asks after a moment of silence. "You know she likes you, right?"

"I know she likes me. It's just..." Heeseung trails off.

"What? You're scared Sunghoon hyungs going to go and sweep her off her feet or something?" He asks, slowly growing frustrated at the older lack of awareness and trust towards his friends. "For God's sake, did you lock Sunghoon hyung in his room or something?!"

"Okay, first of all, don't call me a dumbass. I'm still older than you." As Heeseung says this, Jake replies with a click of his tongue, annoyed by the whole thing. "Second, no I didn't lock him up. I just told him that me and the other two are going out. He doesn't know we were meeting YN today." He finishes.

"Oh my god, hyung! You're literally jealous." Jake concludes, crossing his arms as if to show how serious he was. "YN likes you. They're just friends, hyung. There's nothing to be scared about. I'm a hundred percent sure Sunghoon hyung doesn't like her like that—"

"Guys?"

Both Heeseung and Jakes head snap towards your direction upon hearing your call.

You look at both of them in suspicion, curious as to what they were talking about because it was as clear as day that it was something they didn't want anybody else to know.

In a panic, Jake rushes towards your side, pulling your hawk like eyes away from Heeseung who was trying to hide away from you.

"N-nothing! Let's go there YN" Jake says, leading you inside a mall. Weirded out by the whole situation, you let him drag you towards the entrance by the arms as your eyes stayed on Heeseung. When he meets you gaze, he gives you a wary smile as if silently asking you to dismiss your thoughts.

You hum to yourself, detaching Jakes hands from you so you could tangle them with Heeseungs. It takes the boy by surprise as his body tenses up for a mere second before he eases into your touch, just like what happened earlier. The both of you walk side by side as you browse the wide variety of shops.

Eventually, Jake, Riki, and Jungwon decide to enter a clothing shop that sold mostly street wear, leaving you and Heeseung alone.

"You're not gonna buy anything?" You ask him.

Heeseung shakes his head, arms still stuck with yours. "Nope" He answers, popping the 'p' sound.

Guiding the two of you towards a bench near the front of the store, you nod your head in understanding as the both of you sat side by side.

The two of you continue to talk about random stuff, anything to keep the conversation going.

Giggling at something Heeseung had said before, you recall something, "Oh yeah, my mom said she wanted to meet you. Would that be alright?" You ask him.

"Y-yeah, of course" Heeseung tries his best to seem nonchalant. However, his voice fails him and his sentence comes out in a stutter.

Honestly, Heeseung wants to meet your family. He wants you to show him off and be proud that you're dating him. See, that's one of the disadvantages of establishing a relationship online. Soon enough, you'll grow antsy, wanting people to see that the both of you were together. Heeseung didn't want you to flaunt your relationship. No, he doesn't want that and nor did you. What he wants is to be known by the people who mattered to you. He wants to some day be introduced as your boyfriend or maybe even your husband if he gets lucky. Yeah, he knows he's thinking too far ahead in the future but he can't help it. You consume his thoughts and he's drunk in love so there's no way he wouldn't think of that.

But nevertheless, he feels nervous. What if your mom didn't approve of him? What would he do then?

Negative thoughts continue to pool his head but was interrupted when he hears a familiar tune.

"Hey, bambi" You call out to him, effectively pulling him away from his thoughts. "You hear that?"

He does. It's the same song he had recommended you to listen to when the two of your first met. He still remembers how you would sing it unconsciously while the two of you played or when you were too preoccupied with doing your homework and he just so happened to be in call. He remembers how sweet your voice sounded as you sang the lyrics, always asking you to sing it again and again.

"It's our theme song" Heeseung grins at you.

"Sing it for me?" You ask, head resting on his shoulder, feeling him nod.

"Wherever you are, I'll always make you smile.

Wherever you are, I'm always by your side.

Whatever you say, キミを想う気持ち (You're always on my mind)

I promise you, forever right now..."

For some odd reason, it isn't awkward touching Heeseung like this even though the two of you have only met eachother personally today. In fact, it feels almost as if it was meant to be— as cheesy as it sounds. Seeing and being with him in person like this, touching him and being able to go to places with him, it all feels to surreal to you. It's almost like it's all too good to be true and that God's just playing some cruel joke on you but that isn't the case.

Heeseung is here and there's no words that could ever describe how happy you feel right now.

The man you've been with for the past months. The same one who you spent talking to late at night even on school days because you just couldn't bare the thought of leaving him and having to wait for night time to come just so the both of you could have your time to talk in private.

The both of you would usually call during the night as the day was always reserved so that the two of you could have time to go to school and do your homeworks.

That's how much you've fallen for him.

You're willing to give up your precious time to sleep just for him!

If that isn't true l—

Wait, hold up

We're you just about to say the word love? Did you actually fall in love with him that quick?

Now you're left to wonder. Heeseung is someone special to you, you know that for sure. The question is, is he special enough to deserve your love?

(tweets posted when they went home)

★彡previous , masterlist , next彡★

damn so, heeseung is still a jealous baby huh

he's also a stupid baby since he posted a tweet with YN when he said he'd be eating out *face palms*

writing smaus with heeseung as the male lead is the hardest thing someone could do. my man posts nothing >.<

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#enhypen smau #lee heeseung smau #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #park sunghoon #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #park jongseong #love online 🎮 #kpop smau #heeseung smau #smau #kpop #idol!au #idol au