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babyjakes · 5 months

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a diamond's gotta shine.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | toys

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader

warnings | ddlg (daddy!lloyd, little!reader.) super soft!daddy!lloyd, just how we like him! butt plug (and me not knowing shit about luxury brands lol.) reader has an oral fixation; sucking and licking. anal prep/fingering/stretching. clit rubbing <3. mostly praise and encouragement. an orgasm as reward, yay!! implied aftercare. err hints at exhibitionism later? idk just to be safe.

word count | 1,425

an | this wasn't really the plan for this prompt originally, but i woke up today and decided i wanted a fic of lloyd gifting reader a luxury butt plug so we're just rolling with it lol. this one's dedicated to my sweet sweet angel sabby @hansensgirl hope you're well bby, and happy holidays to you!! <33

"C'mon, princess. Up on my desk."

Lloyd was gently nudging you toward the large surface, which he had suspiciously cleared off from its usual state of mild disarray. You lifted a curious brow at the broad man, earning a pearly grin as he gently stepped in to sweep you up in his arms. Lifting you effortlessly onto the desktop, he set you down with care, as if you were the most delicate and precious thing in the world. He trailed a playful hand up your thigh, fingertips teasing at your skin through the silky fabric of your nylons. "Daddy," you hummed eagerly, letting out a soft squeak as he gently pinched at your tender flesh.

"Panties off, baby. Lay back for me," Lloyd instructed steadily. And he sure as hell didn't have to ask twice.

As you moved quickly to remove and discard your hose and panties, you couldn't help but try to sneak a peek at what your daddy was up to as he made his way to the other side of the desk, opening up a drawer and pulling something out discreetly. He then strode over to one of the couches in the middle of his office, grabbing a few throw pillows before returning to you. "Here you go, angel. Let's get you nice and comfy," he murmured, propping you up with the pillows supporting your back.

"Daddy," you whined again, a hint of neediness now present in your voice. Lloyd smiled as he brought up the gift to finally show you; the contents of his hands made you gasp. A beautiful plug, shiny gold, with a stunning ring of crystals embedded along the base. "Oh Daddy," you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the glittering piece.

"Genuine Winstons," Lloyd told you proudly, taking a small bottle of lube from his pocket and placing it on the desk beside you. "Only the best for my princess, of course."

"So pretty, Daddy," you remained in awe, earning a loving chuckle from the man as he watched you be entranced by the gift.

"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and open up for Daddy, need you to get this nice and wet for me while I'm prepping you." He teased the tip of the plug against your glossy lips, guiding one of your hands up to hold the base. You sucked and licked happily at the metal's impressive curve as Lloyd got to work between your legs.

He parted your feet, bending your knees up to lie at either side of you as your dress slipped up easily in cooperation with his efforts. Pausing, he took a moment to revel in the sight of you. His gaze fell to your perfect folds as they sat before him on display. With a low hum of approval, he brought a gentle hand up to smear your wetness around teasingly. "Look at you, already getting wet for Daddy. That's my good girl," he smiled as he brought a finger down to begin gently prodding at your tighter little hole.

Still working the toy you'd been given between your pouty lips, you let out a whimper at your daddy's tentative nudges. You gasped softly at the feeling of a cold glob of lube being dripped onto you. Heat rose up through your cheeks in slight humiliation as the slippery mess was worked thoroughly over your puckered rosebud. "Okay baby," Lloyd hummed encouragingly, "time to open up this pretty little hole. Are you gonna be good for Daddy and take it?" You offered the sweetest nod you could manage, earning a beaming grin from the mustached man. "Of course you are. My sweet little girl," he crooned lovingly, giving no further warning before starting to push his first digit past your difficult outer ring.

You squirmed gently, big pleading eyes looking up at Lloyd as you let out a weak whine. "Hmmph... Daddy..." your voice wobbled.

The tall man brought his unused arm up to stroke back your hair in a calming manner. Furrowing his brow in gentle concern, he did his best to soothe you. "Shhh, my love," he cooed as his large finger worked up to the first knuckle, then the second, gradually stretching out your sensitive walls. "That's it, see? Nice and gentle. Look so pretty like this, taking Daddy's fingers up your sweet little bottom. My pretty girl," he kissed your forehead, holding you steady as he began introducing a second finger.

It was a slow, steady process; Lloyd knew that it had to be. He rarely played with you like this, mostly due to how much you struggled to take anything up your poor little ass. But he hoped that getting you a toy like this might help you adjust to the unfamiliar sensations; you had discussed prior that you'd like to do some proper anal training and play. Needless to say, you both felt this was the perfect first step in that endeavor.

Once you were comfortably and confidently taking two fingers, Lloyd finally felt ready to transition you over to your shiny new toy. "That's it, sweetheart. Fuck, so perfect for me," he was chuckling as your hips bucked up to meet his hand, his digits driving steadily into you. Much of the initial discomfort was gone, replaced with the most deliciously sinful burn blooming in the base of your tummy. Your eyes were shining with pride as you looked up hopefully at your daddy. Kissing your forehead again, Lloyd nodded as he slowed his fingers to a stop, retrieving the now-soaking plug from your drooling lips.

"Okay princess. Here we go-" You hummed eagerly as the tip of the gold bulb was rubbed up against your slippery opening. Lloyd surprised you a bit by bringing his free hand up to gently dip into your leaking pussy; much to your daddy's delight, you had made quite the mess during his generous preparation period. He dragged his fingertips up further, liberally smearing your glistening arousal over your clit to coax the tiny pearl out from under its protective hood with his expert touch. Your knees were trembling as he began working the nub in steady circles, while finally beginning to ease the large plug up into your awaiting walls.

"O-oh my- Daddy," you mewled as the warm, slick piece of metal stretched you out across its broad curvature. At its widest circumference, the object's insertion was bordering on painful. Lloyd's eyes never left you as he did his best to rub your clit faster, hoping the added stimulation would help ease the burn.

"Almost there baby, almost there," he promised, letting out a breath of relief in tandem with your own as you finally made it past the peak, the rest of the toy slipping perfectly into its place with little effort. As the glittering base nestled itself between your smooth cheeks, Lloyd looked on in pleasure and pride. "There," he hummed lowly, gently giving the center a few taps, earning the sweetest little whimpers from you. "What do you think, angel? Has someone earned an orgasm?"

His pace was quickening over your clit before you could even process his words. Hands flying down to grip the edges of the desk below you, you nodded desperately. "Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy!"

Your daddy smiled as he continued his steady rubbing, finding your sweet spot with ease. It wasn't long before you were reaching up to cling to his sturdy arm, your breaths stuttering as you chased your release. "That's it, baby. Go ahead and come for me. Been such a brave girl for Daddy," the man allowed, nodding as your high ripped through you.

"Daddy, o-oh Daddy! Aahhh-" you cried, the plug lurching within you as your poor little cunt clenched down on nothing. You were carried lovingly through your high, Lloyd's fingers only slowing as your spasms and contractions finally began to cease.

"That's my girl," he murmured gently, reaching up to brush your hair back out of your face as he gave your pussy and puffy button a few playful pats. "Now what d'you say we get you cleaned up, huh princess?" You were too weak to respond, only managing a lazy nod as you slumped against the pillows behind you, struggling to catch your breath.

He moved from your side momentarily to grab a cloth from one of the desk drawers. "Oh, but sweetheart- the toy stays in," he informed you with a wink. "We're having guests over later; Daddy wants his pretty girl to shine."

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livwritesstuff · 5 months

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i hit 100 followers while i was asleep (absolutely bananas imo but i’m so thrilled y’all are enjoying my steddie dads verse bc i’ve literally never had so much fun writing before) so here's a sneak peek of a wip featuring the Harrington fam

Eddie does not understand sports.

He may be approaching fifty years old and way past his old ways of rejecting every notion that doesn’t perfectly align with his own interests, but even after all these years, the wires in his brain simply cannot wrap themselves around sports no matter how hard he tries.

And he does try because, naturally, he has three daughters, Moe, Robbie, and Hazel, all of whom play sports.

To be clear – his kids can do literally anything they want, bar none.

He’s still in goddamn awe with the whole arrangement that is the life he lives every day – kids and a house and a job he loves and all that with Steve Harrington of all people. There’s no way Eddie would start fucking all that up by projecting his own weird quirks onto his children. He refuses to be the kind of parent that prevents their kids from doing anything just because they don't get it. If the girls want to play sports, they’re gonna play sports. Nothing wrong with that.

Still, sports are one of those things he takes the back seat and lets Steve hold the reins for, especially now that thirteen-year-old Moe is pretty deep into the whole basketball thing.

Steve understands the politics of the game, both on the court — like knowing which refs are gonna be biased towards which team and noting Moe’s play-time each game — and off. He schmoozes the coach, he’s friends with all the parents, all the things Moe, at thirteen, doesn’t even notice and Eddie, while aware of it, doesn’t understand. He still can barely follow the games themselves (and he goes to as many as he can, though he and Steve are outnumbered by one and with the prospect of the girls carting themselves around still a distant fantasy their schedule is insane so he can’t make them all). He does his best to follow his husband’s lead but Steve doesn’t always react to things the way Eddie thinks he will. He doesn’t bat an eye when a kid gets smacked in the face with a ball, nor at the impossibly loud thud when someone hits the deck (look — he gets the floor is hollow, but it is loud). He’s completely unbothered by the fit Moe throws every game whenever she’s inevitably benched for having an attitude with her opponents or her teammates or the coach or the ref or just about anybody who tries to get in her way.

As is what happened at Moe’s game yesterday.

Eddie hadn’t seen it — well, he’d seen it, but seeing something and understanding what he’s actually looking at are two totally different things. From what he gathers, Moe had missed an easy shot and gotten pissed off in her own little way about it, so she’d launched herself at whoever on the opposing team had gotten their hands on the ball after it ricocheted off the backboard. Unfortunately for Moe, the team they were playing had a reputation for being a little too aggressive for a middle school league, so when she’d hit the ground, she hit it hard. Moe had been pulled off the court by her coach (carded, maybe? Eddie still isn’t sure how that works in basketball) and scowled on the bench for the rest of the game.

Steve had tried to reason with her on the drive home (an interesting choice, in Eddie’s opinion).

“Darling,” he’d said, “I totally understand being upset about missing a layup, but I don’t know how to get it through your head that intentionally fouling someone isn’t the way to go about resolving that emotion. I love you and I support you, but I’m getting tired of watching you play for three minutes and then sit on the bench for the rest of the game.”

“Talk to the coach then,” Moe had grumbled.

“About what?” Steve exclaimed, “Moe — you do it on purpose!”

The conversation had ended not long later because Moe decided to give them both the silent treatment (a clear sign that she knew she was in the wrong even if she didn’t want to admit it) and Eddie thought that was the end of it (for that game, at least). Then, Moe threw them a curveball by spending most of that evening in the bathroom throwing up, at which point she admitted that her head had caught more of that fall during her basketball game than she’d originally let on.

Steve doesn’t mess around with head injuries (for obvious reasons), so the next morning he calls Moe out of school and brings her to their pediatrician to get checked out.

A couple hours after Robbie and Hazel boarded the school bus bound for their elementary school, Steve and Moe return home.

“So what's the verdict?” Ed asks as they enter the kitchen.

“She's concussed,” Steve announces.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“No sports, no bright lights, no reading, no school, no phone,” Steve says pointedly, and Moe only scowls harder. She’d been using the incident as a leveraging tactic in her crusade to get a phone. Not being able to play sports was a no-brainer; they’d all seen that one coming, so even as recently as this morning, she’d been claiming that she’ll “die of boredom without a phone,” while she recovers.

Even as recently as this morning, she’d been largely unsuccessful.

“Thirteen-year-old children do not need phones,” Steve had told her, “If someone wants to talk to you, they can call the house, and if it's urgent enough that it needs to be right now, you can get walkie talkies.”

“No one uses walkie talkies.”

“Your dad and I used walkie talkies all the time.”

“Uh, pretty sure it was just the one time, Steve,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah! And it worked out great!”

CONTINUE ON AO3

#did it work out great? or is steve's memory of 1986 a little fuzzy in 2014?#eddie is trying his best #basketball is very hard to follow if you don't know the game #as I have learned :/#steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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little-pondhead · 9 months

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[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #kinda strayed away from the prompt #and that's why its a separate post not a reblog #long post #not beta read #no beta we die like danny #pondhead writes #this leans into more of a ‘Sam did it on purpose but said it was an accident’#Tucker read the vibes from all the way in Amity and the other two just roll with it #Tucker: we can trust him #Sam: here’s our entire life story then #Danny: I hope you don’t mind us info-dumping :)#Danny will eat anything #he’s a growing boy! (hopefully)#he wanted to look like Dorathea when she’s a dragon #I cannot stress enough I don’t know shit about dc #so if someone is already in charge of the upper east side #then shut up Sam is their boss now #not continuing please don’t ask I will cry #someone else is free to take over from here #it’s literally just brain vomit to get myself going

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sneakyparsnipslicer · 2 months

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The Cult Of Knives

[Sorry it's been a while folks, hoping you've all been OK. This came to me in a lucid dream. I've captioned all the photos so you can imagine what each character looks like, enjoy!]

It's an age old mistake, you've seen it in movies no doubt. One thing you never, ever find yourself doing is going within five metres of an abandoned cabin in the woods.

It all began late one afternoon, I'd left my apartment to go for my daily jog. It was a standard part of my daily routine by now; finish work, jog around town, go home. Plain and simple. Work kept me on a little longer that day so it pushed my jog a little further ahead. It wasn't so bad when I started, but soon enough the sky began to darken. On the outskirts of town is a field that leads to a bridge, and near the other side of the bridge is a forest. I used to go camping with my friends back in my school years, but now at 27 I don't really hear from them anymore. They all went off to do their own thing.

Anyway, as I got to the forest, I was relieved. I'd forgotten to go for a piss whilst at home and at least in the forest I could piss in a secluded area. I jogged a little way in, found a bush and did my business. When I'd finished I looked around, remembering those good times with my friends. I decided to have a look around for old time's sake. It's funny how places like these can hold so many memories for certain people. Right there by the river, that's where we all sat blaring Panic! At The Disco in the dead of night, that's where Charlie and Jeanette had sneaked off to have a little… fun. We were barely of the legal age back then, so funny looking back at it now, thinking we were giving the middle finger to society. And of course there it stands, The Old Murder Cabin.

The guys used to tell stories about this cabin, full of bullshit of course, used to scare the girls. Stories of there being an axe murderer living there who cut people up to sell as meat on the market. I remember once me and Paul had dared to break in there one night. It was empty, so it's safe to say the stories fell a bit flat after that. Shane never did forgive us for ruining that for us all. Still, it was like time had stood still here, like I was 18 again.

It was beginning to get darker now and I was thinking about heading back home when I stopped in my tracks. For a moment I could've sworn I heard voices. As soon as I started to pay attention they stopped. Had I imagined it? I cautiously crept along the wall towards a window, holding my breath I peeked in. Inside was the long abandoned kitchen, nothing seemed to be inside. I heaved a sigh of relief and chuckled, just my imagination. Though looking back in again I did notice that the table and chairs had been organised. When Paul and I had gone in years ago it was all slumped against walls and the chairs were upturned. Maybe someone had been living in there at some point. I felt like I shouldn't investigate and decided it would be wise to head home, that's when a huge hand with a cloth swooped out of nowhere, covering my mouth and nose. An arm tightened around my chest and though I tried to break free, the chloroform made short work of me.

'Knew I could see someone down by the river, like a moth to the flame!' someone laughed.

'You reckon he'll do?' asked another. I felt a foot sharply kick me in the side of my stomach and that's where I woke up coughing and spluttering, gasping for air.

'Transpierce, Sabre, restrain him' ordered another voice. Next thing I knew two blurry figures were hoisting me onto a hard surface and were busy on either side of me, fastening belts around my wrists. As my vision began to return to me, I could see that I was tied to the kitchen table inside the cabin. On either side of me stood two burly, hairy and muscular men. The room was lit by candles so this whole premise felt very unsettling and dreary.

'What's going on?' I asked, looking around for answers.

'Looks like you picked a bad night to stumble into the woods kiddo!' said a voice ahead of me. There stood another man built quite similarly to the two either side of me. I couldn't help noticing they were all shirtless, showing off their pecs and abs.

'Sorry, I thought this place was abandoned, I didn't mean to interrupt you all' I said, looking between them. The one ahead of me shook his head and folded his arms.

'Well to be fair it was until about a month ago, that's where I stumbled upon this place' he explained.

'Ah, love what you've done with the place!' I said, laughing nervously. At which they all chuckled in unison.

'He seems rather sweet doesn't he lads?' he asked the other two, to which they both nodded.

'Oh definitely!' said the man on my right.

'A perfect match!' said the man on my left.

'Good, I think so too. Transpierce, go and get Mateusz would you?' the man at the front asked as he moved over to take over his post. The man to my left, Transpierce nodded and walked off to the other room.

'Transpierce, that's an unusual name' I said, looking nervously into the man's eyes, I could only assume he was their leader.

'He chose it himself, we all do. I'm Bayonet, and our friend over there is Sabre' said Bayonet, moving his hands to examine my shoulders.

'Bayonet, that's a kind of knife, right?' I asked him. Bayonet smiled and nodded.

'Intelligent too! I appreciate a man that knows his knives!' he grinned, looking deeply into my eyes. I was feeling really uncomfortable by this point. We seemed to be getting along, but why was I still restrained? He looked up and down my body and sighed.

'It's a pity, you'd have been welcome to join my little Cult as you are, but there are certain… requirements I must enforce' Bayonet said. He left my side and walked over to the doorway that Transpierce had left through.

'Transpierce? Mateuz? What's taking you two so long?' Bayonet demanded.

'Just a moment Boss, he's almost ready!' called Transpierce from the other room.

'Good!' announced Bayonet, satisfied. He turned back to look at me.

'It's always a special occasion when we acquire a new Suit'.

What did he mean, suit? I was in my t-shirt and shorts, and they sure weren't wearing any suits. Bayonet turned his attention to a wooden chest in the corner of the room and pulled out a satchel containing various tools. As he searched the satchel, Transpierce returned to the room accompanied by a skinny-looking guy, either he was drenched in water or covered in some sort of gel that glistened in the candle light. I had to assume this was Mateusz.

'Alright then Matty, this is your moment. Your induction. In your own time' said Bayonet, turning around, holding a syringe and a bottle of glowing green liquid. Mateusz nodded hesitantly and made his way over to me. Our eyes locked and we regarded eachother for a moment. Not gonna lie, he was pretty cute, though he wasn't built and muscular like the other guys. He placed a greasy palm on my left leg and I shuddered. It was cold and strangely felt like a cut to the skin. He moved his hand slowly up my leg to my groin and the others stood back and watched.

Mateusz licked his lips and placed one hand on the table, hoisting himself on top of it, standing above me looking down, he gently lowered himself to sit on my crotch. I'm not usually into twinks but this guy was doing it for me somehow. He moved both of his hands along my arms to my restrained hands and filled them with his own, locking fingers with me. He moved to lay down on top of me and began to kiss me. This guy was good, tonguing my mouth and exploring, I could feel his hardening shaft grinding into me. He pulled away and I moaned. Whatever this guy wanted to do to me, I was his. He sat back up and began to pull his boxers off, letting his erect dick spring free. It had to be 7 inches long. I licked my lips, was I about to get to taste it? He moved to sit on my chest and he cupped my jaw in his hands, staring silently again. Then he moved to position his dick into my mouth and began to face fuck me. I so wished I could hold his body but my hands were restrained. As if they could read my mind, Sabre and Transpierce approached and undid the belt buckles, allowing me to put my hands on his bubble butt. I wanted all of that inside me. Mateusz continued to fuck, panting and groaning, eventually he came in my mouth and I swallowed his thick, creamy load. He pulled himself off me. I gasped for air as I laid down on the table, unable to take my eyes off Mateusz. Him unable to take his eyes off me, he caught his breath and began to smile, chuckling.

Assuming it was my turn to repay him the favour, I moved to pull my t-shirt off, but he stopped me, shaking his head.

'I'm not done yet, that was foreplay!' he said winking. I looked at him bewildered, face fucking was foreplay to him?!

It was at this point Bayonet approached with his syringe and injected the green, glowing substance into Mateusz's arm. It took a moment, but his skin began to glow green and the gel he seemed to have been coated in made him appear to turn rubbery. It was like he was now a hot, humanoid version of Flubber.

'Oh we're going to enjoy this!' Mateusz said, glowing before me. He squeaked and squelched as he moved and returned to sit atop me. He kissed me again, but this time his lips got sucked in, then his head began to get sucked into my mouth, squeaking as it went. I placed my hands on his shoulders and they ran down his slick body as it gradually began to suction into my own. As his torso, ass, dick, arms, legs and feet began to slide into me, my stomach began to balloon out and glow green under my clothes. The other men whooped and cheered. Underneath my skin, I could feel Mateusz repositioning himself, arms into the correct places, legs where they should be. My own skin was beginning to balloon out too, as muscle began to build, my clothes began to rip to shreds. I began to grow pecs and abs just like the other guys, my hands belonged to Mateusz now and he moved them below what remained of my boxers and began to pump our expanded dick. Both of us moaning in unison. I could feel my load getting ready to shoot and that's the last thing I can remember.

Mateusz groaned in pleasure as cum shot out from his new dick, two thick strings and then excess green liquid spewed out. He looked to the ceiling, sweat glistening on his new chiseled body. His friends surrounded him and smiled proudly at him, they'd been masturbating as they watched his merging with the captive jogger and moaned as they emptied their loads over him, christening him a new man, rubbing it all into his skin. Panting, Bayonet helped him to his feet and kissed him.

'Speak your new name, Brother!' he cried. Mateusz thought for a moment.

'Call me Machete!' he decided. Transpierce, Sabre and Bayonet looked between eachother and nodded approvingly.

'Very well! From this night forth you are complete, you are our beautiful Brother Machete!' said Bayonet proudly, hugging him tightly. Now they had four complete members to their ranks, in time their ranks would grow and the Cult of Knives would amass many more followers, but for now it was time they all got some action from Machete!

#merging #male tf #male transformation #gay #bodysuit

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jakeyt · 1 month

Text

Covet: Chapter 11 (Sneak Peek)

a/n: this is only half of what this scene is in chapter 11... buuuut, this is a scene that has been imagined for a hot damn second... and i kind of went crazy with it when it came time to write it. soooo, here's a (long ass) sneak peek of the scene that's been planned as a reunion of sorts for our two (angsty) romantics <3

i hope it's enough to tide you over until chapter 11 drops. and, ohhhh friends.... chapter 11..... it's a doozy (that includes something that many have been itching for... what could it be?)

buuut, until then, here is your little taste (🤭) of chapter 11!!

Warnings: smut (18+ MINORS DNI); oral (f! receiving); pregnancy; insecurities; anxiety; slight jealousy, i guess?; pregnancy hormones out the wah-zoo lmao (emotions, libido, etc)

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Oh, so you didn’t get it out of your system with Maya that night?” You clipped, not ready to just ignore the fact that you’d had to suffer through that shit. How damn livid you’d been.

“I was angry, and she was there for me,” he explained, before sighing deeply. You could imagine he was shaking his head with the action. “But I was thinking of you. You and your beautiful fucking body that’s growing my kid.”

God. You felt your core flex and continue to drip with arousal at his words. You were not in the mood to be the one in the right anymore. You didn’t want to be smart about your choices. . . you wanted his mouth on you and you wanted to let him do whatever the fuck he had in mind.

It would be one time.

And. . . . it would technically be him helping you to benefit the baby. . . the less stressed you were, the less stress the baby felt. And God only knew how fuckin’ stressed you were lately.

And there was only one way–one person–you wanted to relieve that right now.

Fuck morality.

“Who’s to say you’ll want me when you actually see me like this?” You genuinely wondered.

You couldn’t believe you were actually giving this fucking idea any substance. There really was no way it could end well.

But your thoughts just kept trailing to how it could end well. . . very well. . . With you moaning his name as you finished against his tongue or around his cock . . .just for tonight. And, dirty as it would be to her, technically Maya did tell him to help with whatever you needed, so it wasn’t entirely against her wishes.

Although, you were one thousand percent sure this was not what she meant. . . . at all.

“Try me,” he challenged, voice rasping with the two daring words.

You were in no place to turn him down for such a thing. Your body was in no place to deny his help much longer. So, with wobbly legs and weak knees, you stood up. Your ass tingled, hurting just a bit and you were trying so hard to not somehow slip on any water on the shower floor. You decided to lean against the opposite wall, holding on to the plastic bar built into the middle of the longer wall, adjacent to him.

It was clicking that he was about to see your naked body in a way he’d never seen it before. . . you needed to make sure you looked as good as you could with puffy eyes from crying and a red face from the heat of the shower.

So, you did what you could and bent one wet leg at the knee, thankfully feeling silky smooth from your shave. You worked to accentuate your curves, in a body that didn’t always feel like your own anymore. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest, but knew the pressure would hurt like a bitch if you did that. The other option was tucking them behind your back, so that was what you did, holding the plastic bar in the wall with both hands, pushing your chest up a bit with the action.

You couldn’t conceal the whine that slipped from your lips when you crossed your thighs, pushing them together, adding a little bit of pressure where you needed it so badly.

But, no matter how much your body felt literally pulled to him, you couldn’t help asking. . . “Are you sure about this?”

“Um, yes,” he said, no doubt in his tone at all. Though, after he said it, he paused, ready to await your words. “. . .Are you?”

Guilt was what you should’ve felt in this moment. But, right then and there, guilt was as far out of the window as it could’ve possibly been. This felt real. Natural. Nowhere near wrong any longer – only right. So fucking right.

So, if he thought it was okay, so did you.

“Yes,” you breathed, whining on the word without warning, your legs having rubbed together once more. Your swollen chest was heavy with each breath you took, waiting for him.

“Let me see you,” he beckoned.

Needing the curtains gone from between you, but scared to move and end up falling, you huffed, snorting a bit at the thought of falling again. Pregnancy and POTs were not a good combination for a clumsy-ass like yourself.

“I’m afraid I’ll land on my fuckin’ ass if I move,” you explained, a little giggle following the words. “Um, c-can you–?”

And before you could even finish the request, the thin barrier between you suddenly vanished and. . . standing before your naked, wet body. . . was him.

Your eyes didn’t instantly find his face, suddenly shy in front of the man who’d seen you naked so many times before. So, you focused fully on his body. He was still fully clothed, but completely there, right in front of you.

And, from what you could tell from the outline of his dick in his dark jeans, he was definitely wanting you. He wanted to help in this special way. . .

“Oh my god,” he rasped, so low in his throat.

Instantly, you snapped your glance from where you’d been eyeing his body to see his face. He was staring at your legs, which still looked as they had before the baby, for the most part.

But, very slowly, his eyes trailed from your legs, all the way to your midsection – a part of you that had definitely changed. Round as could be at 17 weeks along, his expression became primal; his stare, so hungry for what his eyes were feasting on that you felt it with every harsh beat of your heart.

You felt extremely vulnerable in his presence, under his gaze. Felt weak at the sound of his voice. The way you were bared completely to him, and him liking what he saw. . . made the blood in your veins red hot.

The blush crept up on every part of you – your cheeks and chest, burning. You felt yourself becoming restless for him, your heart beating so quick you felt almost nauseous at the way his eyes had darkened. His lips stayed pursed as his jaw flexed. You felt your chest react further, as your nipples peaked at his nearness. As if sensing it, his eyes moved to watch your fuller chest, your breathing hitching on each breath.

Time was moving in slow motion.

And the way he bit his lip, as he finally locked his dark eyes with yours, would forever be etched in your memory.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed. “You are so—.”

The heavy beat of your heart was lodged in your throat, your breath catching. “Kiss me, Jake.”

And without question, he was stepping over the ledge of the bathtub, still fully clothed, until his boots were sloshing in the shallow puddle of water that swooshed to the drain. His hands found your body soon, chilly against your heated skin. He held your waist the best he could with the new addition of the baby bump, but still managed to hold you in such a way that you felt like he was in charge. The way he held you reminded you that you were nothing more than putty in his strong hands.

He started leaning in, his grip on you, so firm, steady, sure. . . .

The last time you’d seen him so close to you had been far too long ago. The night in the kitchen when you’d spilt the water, it had been too dark – and you’d been turned away from him. But, you were not turned away right now. Quite the opposite.

No, right now, you could see every detail of his plush, pink lips as he leaned in further to you. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

You were ready to feel his lips on yours.

He was close enough for you to see the stubble coming in above his lip. Though, suddenly, his hands dropped from around your waist and his eyebrows dipped as he started backing away.

No no no no no please –.

“I–I can’t–,” he shook his head, now drenched from the spray of the shower. You followed his action, backing up, too, your eyes looking over his body as he stood before you, unmoving. Just far enough away to not touch each other.

He wasn’t getting out completely, but he’d distanced himself.

Was he already regretting this? God, your heart started to split in your chest. . . you’d opened yourself completely up, only for him to decide against this – against you.

“Do you not want me?” You asked, voice mixed with hesitation and hurt. Your line of sight landed on your own feet, refusing to look at him. “Because, fuck, Jake – I told you! I told you we shouldn’t have– but now you have me fucking shaking and — goddammit, Jacob! It’s not fair for you to get me to admit those things and then bail as soon as you–!”

“Y/n,” he growled your name, commanding your eyes to land on his. His stare was no different than before. The irritation was flaring, again, though. Just a bit. You could tell. He stepped closer by one step. “I’m not going to fucking bail. I told you I wanted to please you and I plan on keeping my damn promise. I want to taste you so badly. . . I just– ugh.”

Your pulse was pounding in your ears, your chest hot and your heat clenching at nothing. . . You didn’t know how to respond.

You continued to buzz with anticipation that wouldn’t dissipate in the dense, humid air of the shower. Doing the only thing you could do, you decided to admire what was in front of you.

His shirt was opened to the middle of his abdomen on what you knew to be a chilly December evening, daring him to catch a damn cold.

But. . . the sight made you anything but cold–no, seeing his perfectly toned chest heaving and soaking wet. . . it made your entire body flame. His shirt was light blue, the water soaking through the material to make it nearly transparent. It gave you a glimpse at everything beneath his shirt. . . You saw his toned pecs that you needed to put your hands on again. You needed to feel the smooth skin of his chest–with your hands, tongue. . . anything.

Needed to feel him.

So, you did what your body told you to do at that moment.

Taking one wary step forward, you reached your hand out slowly, letting him stop you if he needed to. But, he didn’t stop you. When you glanced up at his face to read his reaction, he was watching your hand move, mouth agape at the action. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek as you took one more step towards him. Without any more thought, you placed your delicate hand on the exposed part of his tanned chest. And, daring to feel more, you slid your palm underneath his button-down shirt to feel one of his toned pecs.

His breath caught at the motion.

It felt like home to be touching him like this again.

His chest flexed under your hand with the sharp intake of breath. Your breath was choppy, too, not daring to breathe too harshly to scare him away. This moment felt so eerily similar to a moment so long ago – that damn game night. The moment you’d been dared by a stupid ass card game to touch him.

But this time–this time felt worlds different.

There was history–a baby–between the two people in this moment of time and you knew how to read his body.

So, it was no surprise to you when he took a step forward, nearly meeting the front of your body with his. You knew it was going to happen before it did; you knew that his hand would reach up to touch your chest as well.

You watched his hand as he followed through. Though, he didn’t touch your breast like you expected. No, he balanced his hand right above your heart, where it beat furiously for him.

“Jake,” you begged, his name saying everything you couldn’t say. Your thighs rubbed together of their own accord, desperate. “Please.”

And there it was. His hand immediately went to hold your full, sore breast. It was like a weight was lifted off your chest, literally. You were finding that the only relief your chest could find was from his touch.

Your legs continued to work at creating friction with every movement of his gentle massage on your breast. The way your chest heaved, nipple so sensitive and taut beneath his palm, your body was pleading for more. Still. You needed more. His hand moved away from the nipple and he held the underside of your left breast.

“Jake,” you were whining, outright. It was pitiful as hell. But – you couldn’t give two flying fucks.

“I–I can’t kiss your lips,” he explained, voice gravelly and low above you, floating directly to your ear. You looked up, waiting for him to continue. There was more he wanted to say, it was obvious. “That’s–I have to keep something that is unique and sacred to my relationship. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” It did. It made complete sense and you admired his feeble attempt at saving something for her. . . but, you couldn’t help that it cracked your heart the slightest bit that you weren’t able to feel his lips against yours.

The tears were welling in your eyes all on their own–couldn’t stop them if you tried. Although, you couldn’t tell if they were from baby hormones or an honest result of the new crease left in your heart at him so obviously not being yours.

He belonged to her – not to you. And the lack of kissing was a painful, blatant reminder of that.

Kissing him had been something so normal and familiar only a few months ago, you could have kissed him any time you wanted (well, almost any time. . . but still). And . . . you’d given that up.

Given him up.

So what could he do?

“What can you do?” Your voice broke with the wetness in your throat, a tear stupidly trickled down your face.

His grip on your breast stayed firm, his hand kneading the supple flesh just right. “You okay, honey?” He asked, meeting your question with his own. He reached a hand up to hold your cheek and swipe a few more stray tears. “Shhh,” he hushed gently as his hand still worked to soothe your heavy chest.

You sniffled, body sparking, growing goosebumps rapidly at the way he was stimulating you so deliciously. Your thighs worked hard to ease the throb between your legs. Playing it off the best you could, you offered him a half-assed response. “Don’t ask me why the tears are happening–it’s–it’s the baby hormones,” you sniffed again, willing the tears to go away.

Thankfully, they did. And, after they’d subsided, he went to touch your other breast, your hand still on his chest, now clawing at his skin with each measured press of his hand at your aching breasts. Your hand trailed up to hold his neck, thumb smoothing at the flesh behind his ear. God, you’d missed holding him and you really loved that spot behind his ear. . . couldn’t explain it.

“How does it feel?” He soothed, licking his lips once at a sigh you emitted with one particular graze to your tight nipple.

“So fucking good,” you grit out, your hand gripping gently at the roots of his long hair, darkened and soaking wet from the water flowing from the showerhead. “How do you know how to–? They hurt when anyone else holds them. . . but not with you– how?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a hoarse chuckle. “I have been doing research on how to–,” he coughed, his other hand coming to join the one on your chest, doing his best to give equal treatment to both of your tits. And dammit if he wasn’t doing the best fucking job at it.

You gasped a whine at the additional pressure, his dark eyes finding yours as soon as you’d made the sound. The smile you gave him was bashful, cheeks flaring a deep pink in the soft moment.

He continued his words as he worked his hands so intentionally against your swollen, aching chest. “I’ve been reading on how to pleasure pregnant women– what to do to make them feel better. . . since your body’s changing and shit. And you told me that your tits have been sore, so I’ve been reading on how to help that specifically. I didn’t think I’d get to try it out on you – but, here we are,” he smirked, his eyes connecting with yours once more as he raised a brow.

Didn’t think he’d ‘get to try it out on you’.

You blushed, his eyes going back to watching your tits as he softly swirled a thumb on your nipple, you moaned, following his eyes with your own. God bless America. Watching him do it was worse. Your nerves were on fire and you felt your muscles tighten at your core, needing his touch in a million places at once.

“And, when pregnant women have sore tits, it apparently helps to massage them,” he continued, informing you of his research. “So, I thought I’d try that.”

“What else did you find in your research?” You asked, watching his hands move just so, his thumbs rubbing purposefully light circles around and over your nipples. Fuuuck yes.

“For sore tits or overall pleasure?” He pondered, eyebrow raising again as he caught your line of sight.

“Pleasure,” you breathed, feeling his hands come to a devastating halt on your chest, smoothing over your sides before he dropped them.

Goddammit, Jake. Don’t stop.

“Well, I know that some pregnant women really like being touched and have a pretty high libido,” he paused, bringing his hands up to push his soaking wet hair back. Your hand dropped from behind his head. “But I also found that other pregnant women experience the exact opposite – have an aversion to sex.” He eyed you, squinting with a knowing smirk. “I could probably guess which type you are by how much you loved that just now, but . . . I want you to tell me. High libido or low?”

“Well,” you paused, your legs suddenly feeling like Jell-o. So, not wanting to fall or some shit, when he’d successfully pushed his hair back, you reached both hands up to wrap around the base of his head, your fingers working at your own massage on him. “I–I haven’t really felt a high libido for anyone but you. . . I don’t think I’d want it from anyone else right now. . . So, I don’t know what that makes me. High, maybe?” You pondered aloud, wanting his opinion of your predicament. “. . .If I only want you, a high libido for you?”

“Fuck. Are you serious?” You watched one hand reach between you to rub against the strain at his zipper. The other hand came to your hip, pulling you into him further.

He brought you as close as you could come with a new belly in the middle. He glanced down at the growing bump, his eyes gazing at it, so gently. He didn’t reach to touch it—not yet. . . Seeming to wait on you for permission, but not saying it. But. . . you just felt now was not the right time.

So, instead, you surveyed him.

The sight of him admiring your belly was almost too much to process. . . He was looking so carefully and affectionately — he got it. He felt it.

You sniffed, biding your tears the best you could. And at the sniff, his eyes flicked to you. . . His stare said something you thought daily.

That’s my baby, he seemed to say with only a simple twinkle in his eye. His dark irises became so light, his under eye circles seemed to disappear with the wonder in his stare.

He winked at you and sent you into a minor frenzy. As your heart worked to pick back up, he began moving his hand down to your ass to pay attention to the muscle you’d told him was sore earlier.

Your sighs filled the air, your senses overwhelmed by him. He rasped his next question, back on the topic from earlier, voice so low between the two of you. “You only want me?”

“Only you,” you confirmed, the honest words brushing against his face with your quiet, sighed response.

“So, if I were to be wanting to. . . help you, you know. . . you’d say you have a high libido?”

“So fucking high.”

“Thank fucking God,” he growled. And with one more push of his hand against himself, he moaned under his breath, and with one more squeeze to your ass, he grasped both of your hips, holding you to him tightly. Your belly, pressed between the two of you, still so foreign in a moment like this.

“Well, there are countless positions to try, but right now I can’t really–.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cut it off at all of the other shit, too,” you said, backing away from him, his hands dropping from you as you let go of his neck. “No kissing, so what’s next? What can’t you do? You never answered that.”

He started unbuttoning his sopping wet shirt. And when it was finally completely off, he reached up to drape it across the bar of the shower head. Your eyes tracked every. single. movement. The way his bicep rippled slightly with the stretch, the way his tanned abdomen flexed. . . every muscle, so beautiful in its prominence beneath his soft skin.

When he was back from his task and looking at you again, shirtless and solid as a brick wall, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention to his face once more. The smirk on his lips and the way his eyebrow was arched pissed you the fuck off. Was this amusing to him?

“You think it’s funny? How turned on I am and you can’t do a damned thing about it? Even though you led me to believe you could?”

“Who said I couldn’t?”

“You just said you can’t–.”

“You didn’t let me finish, y/n,” he reasoned. “I was going to say I can’t do that right now because I need to focus on you before we get to sex.”

‘Before we get to sex’. . . was he planning on . . . more?

Deciding to ignore that dangerous train of thought for the time being, you huffed, your arms still crossed at the top of your slightly rounded abdomen. “Well, I’m just confused.”

“The only thing I told you I can’t do is kiss your lips,” he reminded you, the calloused pad of his thumb coming up to briefly touch your plush lips. His eyes followed his action, your lips still pursed in annoyance as you challenged him with your expression and stance.

But you were wavering by the second, especially any time your eyes followed a drop of water from his shoulder, all the way to the waistband of his dark jeans. And every time you caught sight of the raging erection in his jeans. . .

“Y/n.”

Embarrassed and flushed, you flicked your eyes back to his face. You covered it up with indignance and frustration, your arms tightening in their position. “What, Jake?”

“I will do anything else you need,” he reassured, taking a tentative step towards you, boots clicking against the floor of the tub – where you’d managed to press yourself against the opposite wall of the shower. Your body betrayed you, your nipples once again peaking at his proximity. “And. . . I never said I can’t kiss other parts of your body. I can very much kiss you. . . elsewhere,” his eyes trailed to where your thighs were still pressed to relieve the persistent pulse of your center.

“Goddammit, Jacob,” you breathed with a roll of your eyes, arching yourself off of the wall towards him, just in time for him to meet you halfway. “You should have said that.”

His eyes bugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips until a bright white smile appeared in a laugh. “I tried! You didn’t let me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to him, your belly between you not letting you get quite as close as you used to.

“Then do something–please.”

He leaned forward, kissing behind your ear, right where you liked to kiss him. Then, he trailed his mouth down the column of your throat. He alternated pecks and open mouthed kisses, all the way to your shoulders, collarbones. . . You sighed, completely at his mercy. When he found your left breast, he gave it the most attention.

He licked around the sensitive nipple of your left breast, mirroring it with the right. At which, he elicited a moan from you that quickly progressed into a very whiny wail. “Fuck! Fuck, yes!” You cried, grasping his wet hair, not sure how to stop yourself if you fell – your shaking knees were bound to betray you, you could feel it. “This is so fucking wrong.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled against the wet, supple skin of your breast. Every word, emphasized with a lick around your tender, hardened flesh.

Your train of thought was halted as you lost all thought in your brain at him full-on kissing your nipples, rather than giving them little kitten licks. No, now he was giving them kisses just like he would your mouth. Tongue and all. You were going to finish from this alone. . . You watched him in pure astonishment, his eyebrows knit in concentration. Then, as if things could get any worse (better?) he moaned – the action vibrated against your skin.

Your hips jolted up into his. Both of you groaned in unison at the contact, his hard dick enticing you as you felt it, only a thin barrier of clothing between you. . . You felt yourself flex at nothing, your thighs feeling the wet result of your arousal.

You knew you were damn close to finishing.

“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded, mumbling around your nipple.

Of course he knew you were on the verge.

Your nipples, usually so fucking sore, felt like they were made of sparklers, electric under his soft mouth. “‘M not done yet.”

“But– I can’t– a-ah-ah!,” you moaned, your body beginning to lose its fight to stand up straight, near to giving out. “I can’t hold on for much longer, Jake. Please. I promise I’ll cum again for you,” you swore, your fingers lacing tightly into his long, chestnut locks. “Please, baby.”

The pet name slipped from your lips without thought of repercussion. But, you didn’t really care that you’d let it slip since it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, it had spurred him on even more.

“Not yet,” he bit out, his dark eyes meeting yours from their place at your full breasts.

Then, he winked, making you throb from that gesture alone. Fuck. You were a goner. You weren’t sure you could do as he said.

He went back to giving your body kisses, this time trailing back up to your face, little pecks covering every expanse of skin on your flushed face. Then, with one gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, he reached a hand up to hold your cheek.

His eyes held yours, open and vulnerable under his stare. So soft, he spoke to you with fervor in his tone. “I promise it’ll be better if you just wait, baby.”

Him returning the pet name didn’t help matters and only made you more desperate to fall apart.

So, rather than saying anything in return, you decided you’d try your best to follow his instructions. The only thing you could think to do was pinch your eyes shut and lay your head against the wall in frustration. “Fine,” you griped, hands tightening in his hair.

His mouth worked, venturing down once again, giving sloppy kisses from your collarbones all the way to your hips.

Once there, his hands replaced his mouth and started kneading at your hips as his mouth kept moving downward. His hands did a stellar job at holding you against the wall to prevent a fall.

His hold on you was strong and intent. And, while holding you, as he simultaneously massaged your hips. . . it was fucking heaven. His thumbs moved and pressed with purpose, working the tired muscle at your joints.

Fuck– he really had done his research to know that your hips could hurt like a bitch. And God knew yours did.

“My hips– Jake, god. . . thank you,” you sighed, your eyes closing at the way your body felt weightless under his hands and mouth.

Suddenly, his mouth was on your thighs, going back and forth between each leg until he reached your calves, his hands having to move down your legs with the action, still holding you upright as he knelt before you.

You opened your eyes, suddenly desiring to see him again, and you watched as he gave your legs unrelenting attention.

You watched in wonder as he very slowly started to work his way up to where you needed him most. But, once he got there, he gave you a look that made your knees buckle. . .

Then, he began on you, wasting absolutely zero time. There was no warning for his mouth meeting your searing hot, wet heat.

“Oh-oh-oh, J-Jake, f-fuck, yes!” You were nearly incoherent, but who would expect any different when you had Jake Kiszka making out with your wet and waiting pussy.

You’d been aching and waiting to have this again for so fucking long. . .The slew of curse words and moans that escaped your lips were useless, as they all came out as jumbled non-words. Utterly incoherent.

He was doing figure eights with his tongue, inching closer and closer to your opening, not even daring to edge towards your clit yet. Didn’t want you to fucking finish yet, goddammit.

You clenched your jaw, a growl coming from your lips, unable to do anything but watch him. Your eyes couldn’t dare leave the sight in front of you. He was taking his time to lap at your folds, soaked and fluttering for him. Your hips jerked forward, not able to stop the way his lips and tongue were setting you on fire to the point of retaliation.

You were trembling, your body not working on its own at all to hold you up. You were dependent on his death grip, now back on your hips, steadying you. He was pressing you so hard to the wall – you fucking hoped that he left bruises in the wake of his fingertips.

He kept on with his work for a bit longer before the water started turning cold. Fuck no.

And, of course, as if on cue, Jake backed away, wiping the corners of his mouth with the pad of his right thumb, his left hand still holding you to the wall.

“I swear to god, Jacob Thomas, if you fucking stop because of some cold wa– oh!”

He was back to licking up every bit of early release at your heat, flattening his tongue against your slit. You couldn’t catch a breath to finish what you were saying as he replaced his tongue with his fingers. He twirled his pointer and middle fingers through your soaking folds, until he met your entrance.

But, he stopped there.

And you knew why. He could tell you were cold – obviously shivering from more than his mouth and hands.

He could read you so well. You didn’t know if it was because of the connection you had to him by carrying his baby or what, but his instincts of your impending reactions came incredibly quick in recent days.

As he spoke, he kept his fingers at your core, spinning them to continue eliciting stimulation. The calluses of his fingertips were the perfect addition of friction to your swollen heat. . . you bit your lip, your head laying against the shower wall. You could barely concentrate on the fact that he’d begun talking.

“You’re shaking, y/n,” he clarified, as if you didn’t know.

Which, in true fashion, pissed you off. But, still hazy from his ongoing touch, you closed your eyes to center yourself.

When you leaned off of the wall the best you could, you opened your eyes. Instantly, it felt like you were going to slip with the movement. But, just when your foot dared to lose balance, his hold on your hip tightened. His fingers were still spinning against you, just on the precipice of entering you. So, you were sure he’d felt your walls flutter at the way he grasped you.

But, he didn’t say anything. He was too focused on your chilliness and your center, your body straight-up shaking from the now-cold water. Turning around, fingertips still tucked between your folds–still not fucking inside of you yet–, he switched the shower off.

“Jake!” You complained for no reason whatsoever. Well. . . you knew why you were complaining. You were worried. “Please, don’t let this be the–.”

“I’ve kept my fingers where they are to show you I’m not fucking done,” he responded, tone equally lacking tolerance for your attitude. “Can you just be fucking patient?”

“You’re not being patient!”

“How in the hell am I not being patient?!”

“Your voice tells me so,” you argued, hearing the way it sounded ridiculous as soon as you said it. You shook your head, body shaking from the cool nip of the bathroom air and your soaking wet body. He was also trembling, his body nearly as wet as yours.

He removed his fingers, further aggravating you. . . but you couldn’t stay mad for long as he was eliciting a gasp from you, yet again, within seconds. You watched as he removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Closing his eyes and moaning in the process, his opinion of the way you tasted apparent.

Holy fucking hell.

“Taste good?” You asked, trying to sound snarky, but failing from the way your breath had escaped your lungs.

When his fingers left his mouth, he slowly started to stand, eyes connecting to and never leaving yours. His grip on your hip not giving up a single bit in the process. Once he was standing at full height again, he slid the shower curtain open, eyes staying hooked on yours.

He grabbed the towel hanging on the wall rack, momentarily leaving your gaze. But, as soon as he had the towel in his hands, his eyes snapped back to your waiting stare.

“Fucking delicious. You taste better than anything – always have. . . No other woman compares. But. . . it’s–it’s even more-so now,” he paused, releasing your hip and motioning for you to come towards his arms with the fluffy, waiting towel. You turned your back to him, his breath sliding through his teeth. “Your ass. . . Fuck it all.”

You giggled, feeling so incredibly wonderful for the first time in so long. Holding your arms out a little, he wrapped the towel at your back and handed you the rest to finish wrapping yourself.

He kept talking as you cinched the white towel around yourself, your breasts not appreciating the way you tucked the material tight around your chest. You winced at the feeling, pissed with the fact that your body was so sore.

Jake’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “You okay?”

You nodded grumpily. “Yes,” you grumbled. “It’s my boobs. They just hurt.”

There was no missing the way he bit his lip, licking them soon after before he responded. “I’ll help you feel better, baby. Don’t worry.”

The buzzing in your veins was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t trust yourself to give a valid response with how lightheaded he was making you feel.

All you could do was nod, eyes hopefully communicating your excitement.

“Anyway, I read about the taste of a woman’s release, too. . . when women are pregnant, they have the tendency to taste sweeter than usual. And I can safely assure you, it’s the motherfucking truth,” his voice was hoarse with the last sentence. He kept on, locking his Amber-brown irises with yours. “And it’s fuckin’ erotic that you taste like the sweetest thing while you’re growing my baby. . . I can’t even explain it, y/n.”

You were positively twitching, your body threatening to unravel at any given moment. Now warm from the towel, you knew most of your shivering was solely from him.

“You don’t have to. I get how hot it is. Trust me,” you assured, your mouth dry from it hanging open at his words.

Swallowing purposefully, you shook your head before stepping out of the shower. And, once you’d towel-dried your body enough, you bent to tie the towel around your hair, turning away from him. As you made your way to the mirror, leaving him to check yourself, you realized just how red your face was. “Ah! God, Jake, I look like fuckin’ Elmo.”

He belly laughed at that, the sound making your tummy ignite in a swarm of happy butterflies. “No you don’t. Trust me,” he said, still giggling at what you’d said. “. . . ‘look like Elmo’. You’re fucking hilarious.”

Not able to help the laughter bubbling in your chest either, you turned to face him to enjoy the moment together.

Well—.

You first saw all of his soaked clothes, in a neat pile ready for the laundry, next to him. His belt, rolled tight on the toilet seat.

And, Jake, completely naked.

Your body reacted immediately, suddenly ready for the most. Your tone was way too eager when an inward ponder was spoken aloud. “Are we going to have sex?”

Dear God, y/n.

He smirked, shaking his head as he leaned past your naked body to get in the cabinet under the sink for the spare towel you kept underneath the sink. His fingers brushed your ass in the process and you didn’t want to discuss how quickly his touch heated your skin. You turned away from him, leaning towards the mirror to check out the two pesky spots on your face that threatened a pimple.

“Was that on purpose?” You shot the other question his way, followed by a statement of your own. “My ass has increased in size, just like the rest of me, so . . . wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t on purpose and just because it’s huge.”

“It was most definitely on purpose,” he replied, causing you to lean back so you could give him your full attention. The response made your cheeks blush crimson red, barely visible through your slowly lightening skin.

When you swiveled his way, you found him towel drying his hair, his dick still fully erect and tempting the fucking hell out of you. You bit your lip, and he continued on, eyes closed as he focused on drying his hair. God, he was so handsome. “And I don’t know what you mean by the rest of you increasing in size or huge. God. You aren’t huge by any standard, and all I’ve noticed increase in size are the three things I enjoy watching as they get bigger.”

You flushed, turning away once more to work on towel drying your own hair before you left the steamy room. You’d want the towel to wrap up in the chilly hallway.

Suddenly intrigued by the fact that you were talking so openly with him, you kept going. “The Three B’s? Boobs, belly, butt?”

Jake was laughing again at that, his snort unmistakable, even as you were bent awkwardly at the waist to towel dry your own hair. “Yes,” he chuckled, lighthearted. “That is correct. Did you make that up?”

Damn, I missed this, your mind absently trailed. He was everything wrapped in one.

“I don’t know,” you smiled, your body buzzing with all things him. “You didn’t answer my sex question.”

“No sex,” he promptly replied. Your heart fell, but obviously being oblivious to it, he kept on. “I’ve got a job to finish tonight that doesn’t include my dick.”

“What if I want it to include your dick? Aren’t you doing this to please me?”

How had the conversation just picked up like you’d never stopped being the two of you? The awkward air that had persisted, on and off since the wretched day in the kitchen in August — it was seeming to float away day by day with his knowledge of the baby in your belly.

But, before that line of thought could run off, he was responding to you.

“Are you saying you weren’t pleased with what I started in there just now?”

“Of course I fucking was, Jake,” you rolled your eyes. “But, still–.”

“You just answered the question yourself.”

You huffed with a roll of your eyes.

“Would you just finish drying your fucking hair so I can continue eating you out?”

The way your body temperature rose inexplicably at his words was not something you wanted to admit to, so you went with a simple response to keep you on level ground with him, rather than a quivering mess.

“Aye aye, captain.”

Another snort, followed by a chuckle. “Shut the fuck up.”

“We’re not naming our baby Black Beard,” you stated jokingly, standing up to full height, eyeing him. “I know you love pirates and I love watching the documentaries with you, but. . .,” you grinned at him.

“God, fuck no,” he wrinkled his brow, shaking his body in an air of distaste. “We don’t hate the baby. We love the baby.”

And, for the umpteenth time that evening, your heart rate spiked ridiculously high.

He loves the baby.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmm... Reader is convinced it’s a one time thing. buuuut does Jake? how do you think things will go in the bedroom once we've left the bathroom? ;)

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @builtbybrokenbells, @sacredtheslay

(please remind me that you wanna be tagged if i forgot to tag you!)

#hehehehe #jake is such a good helper huh #;)#doing exactly what maya told him to do #LMAO #covet #sneak peek

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8bitscarlet · 1 year

Text

Sun To Me

Summary: You don't remember a single winter where you weren't either stuck outside in a blizzard or stuck inside during a blizzard. Neither was ever fun to be in. But just this once, the blizzard may be the thing you always hoped for.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff (mention of alcohol, alcohol consumption, suggestive moments, mention of strip poker)

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: SURPRISE! I carved out some time between doing work things, (neglecting work things) for a day and wrote out a little bit of this series. This weekend I have absolutely nothing to worry about for work so I've decided to sneak in this "little" chapter of AOP. Definitely not little, consider it reconciliation for being away (tho I am leaving again). Happy Reading everyone! 💕 And Happy New Year!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

___________________

"Can I borrow your phone?"

A hand glides across your shoulders, your eyes slowly rising up from the words you read. You guide a fork of food up to your mouth as you see the redhead notice the steaming cup of coffee you made for her. She peeks over at you with a soft grin,

"I forgot to plug mine in last night."

You hum unconvinced, pointing noiselessly to the counter as you chew on the breakfast she made before jumping in the shower. You flip to the next page of the newspaper, knowing that you plugged in her phone after she passed out halfway through the season you were watching. She just doesn't want to make the short journey back to the room.

She mutters out gratitude as she walks past you and as she leaves your sight, you feel your throat close. Choking on the food you were trying to swallow, you jump to your feet as you try to yell at her to wait.

As you turn, hacking up a lung and blinking away tears, you're too late. Wanda stands there, shaking your illuminated phone screen at you. Your eyes lock on the photo from when the two of you were undercover during a Brazil summer, you never experienced humidity like that before. You look like a tourist in your sweaty tank top with an incredibly loud and unbuttoned shirt flowing above your board shorts.

The smile on your face was real, you could see the crinkling around your eyes as your peace sign showed up behind Wanda's head. She was leaning against you, acting exhausted. Which you both were, bloody knees and covered in dust and mud, but you were both alive.

"I give Cap a run for his money in that photo," you clear your throat as you try and play off your sudden jumpiness to get some juice.

Wanda narrows her stare, "If anyone looks that good in the photo, it's me."

A chair scratches out behind you as you let out a casual chuckle, but you stare inside the fridge as you feel your heart beating heavy. You take down an entire glass, keeping your eyes away from Wanda as you pour another.

"Speaking of, Nat and Steve are still in the clear. This incoming blizzard is probably helping that,"

You nod, almost forgetting that the two of you were out in the middle of nowhere for a mission. You were supposed to be the chauffeur once Nat and Steve got a hold of some plans Yelena needed to do some black market trade on information for Strucker. It was a boring mission and easy to forget, especially when those green eyes were always across from you. They were all you could think about.

Turning, those eyes sit across the table as you take your seat. She has her legs curled up onto the seat, cabin socks pulled up high onto her calves and her cheek leaning on her knee with a soft grin as she watches you. Her eyes almost seem to brighten when they catch yours. You can feel a warmth on your face but you take a sip of the juice in your hand.

“What demise have you planned for me today, Maximoff? Monopoly? Clue?”

She chuckles, flicking aimlessly through the sports section she took from your newspaper, “Seeing if you noticed the poison.”

You glance up at her, “I did. That’s why I’m eating it.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, finding your weather app and staring at the radar, “How long do we have until that storm comes in?”

“According to my calculations,” you stab your fork into the paper, “Should be picking up within the hour.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to be out there.”

You make a face, “Oh yes, because I enjoy just sitting here and listening to those static radios all day.”

Wanda slides your phone back to you, floating over the last pancake on your plate to her hands. You clench your brows but she starts to talk before you can steal it back, “Don’t be a party pooper just because you suck at card games.”

Your mouth falls now, first the pancake attack and now an attack on your pride. Standing up, you throw your plate away and start to wash the breakfast dishes, “There is no way you got to UNO so quickly,” you mutter the last of your words beneath your breath, “I’d win if it was strip poker.”

She stands up and bumps you out of the way, making you dry and put away the dishes, “And what’s your definition of winning? Having the most clothes or having no clothes?”

You shrug, leaning back against the counter as you spin your towel covered hand inside a cup, “Depends on the company.”

Wanda chuckles, “I’m sure it does. And today, you can play it by yourself. While you go get more wood.”

You groan and extend your arms out across the table, pressing your cheek against the newspaper.

“You’re the one who’s always cold. You get the wood.”

Green eyes flash to yours, cocking her brow as she takes her fork and softly jabs it into the center of your palm. You clench your brows together, feigning excruciating pain and let out a whisper of a scream. Peeking through one of your shut eyes, you see her nose scrunch and eyes crinkle with her smile.

“Didn’t know torture was a hobby in your kingdom, princess.”

The fork digs ever more into your palm and you cringe at the stinging, wrapping your fingers around it and yanking it from her grasp. Wanda leans back into her seat,

“You should see what I can do with a spoon,”

Standing, you throw all the dirty dishes into the sink, “Pretty unoriginal if you just scoop out my eyes.” Peeking out the window, you see the clouds starting to darken. If you were going to refill the logs for the fire, you’d have to work double time.

“Promise you’ll think of something less boring by the time I come back,” you start to slip into all your layers, trying to get your foot into your boot.

“Only if you promise to also not be boring,” The words mutter out from the side of Wanda’s lips.

You frown, slamming your foot down into your boot, “I’m going to lock you outside in that blizzard.”

“I’m not making hot chocolate tonight,”

The grip you have on the back door tightens and you can hear the metal creak and dent beneath your fingers. Slowly, you turn and close the door to the whistling wind.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you narrow your stare as those green eyes narrow back at you,

Wanda shrugs as the steam from filling the sink, “Try me.”

With a sigh, you place your hands on your hips and watch her for a moment. Casually scrubbing plates and cups.

“I’ll bring the wood for your fire,” you give in to her soft glances and grin that teases at the corner of her lips, “And I guess I’ll make it too.”

As you open the door, you feel the warmth of something land on your face. Glancing over, you feel the same warmth as Wanda flicks water at you.

“Don’t take too long,”

You give a snarky grin, “You’ll miss me?”

“Ha! No, I’m cold and that fire is way too low. If you take too long, I’m going out there to make sure you weren’t mauled by a bear.”

Waving away her laughs, you make your trudge out into the blistering cold. You let out audible grumbles but you have a smile that spreads along your burning cheeks and warmth through your body that you hope stays.

__________________________________

You huff out as you trudge through the snow, chuckling to yourself as you watch your breath escape in a frozen cloud in front of you. Bending down, you pick up another fallen log and add it to the sack of other logs you toss over your shoulder.

“Y/N, are you laughing right now? Do you realize how cold it is and how far we are from warmth?”

Adjusting the bag to your other shoulder, you start to jog forward with a grin, “I can see the house from here. And you wanted to come help.”

Wanda groans as you pass her with a laugh, “Because you kept letting all the cold air in when you left for wood. God, it’s so cold. My feet are frozen!”

You stop, dropping the firewood into the snow and trudge back to her as you slip out of your jacket. Throwing it over her shoulders and buttoning it to stay, you feel the cold run down your spine as you quickly snatch the bag up again.

“You’d be absolutely terrible to go out on a lam with you know? Thank god you’re a hero.”

Trudging forward, dragging your feet along to try and make a walking path in the snow for the slow poke behind you, you hear complaining noises behind you.

“Can’t you carry me?”

You whip around, “Carry you?”

Wanda nods, adjusting some of the wood in her arms, “Aren’t you plagued with super strength. Just throw me over your shoulder.”

“What am I, Santa Clause? You’re the magical being here. Fly back to the house.”

You hear her let out a humph as the wind starts to pick up now, howling around you as you pick up your pace. You get to the door and rush inside, brushing off the snow from your now soaked through sweater. Ripping it off, Wanda stumbles through the door and lets out a violent shiver.

“How you doing? You okay?” You ask and she looks at you, knowing that tone, “Ten minutes in the elements. You need your last rites?”

“I want a towel, that’s what I want. You ass,”

You grin and take the little logs she managed to bring in and carry them over to the rest of the wood you had been gathering. Deciding Wanda will stay alive for the next five minutes, you go back to your room and quickly change out of your soaked clothes. The dry fabric instantly warms you as you tuck your sweatpants into your socks. There’s a loud creaking in the piping and you stop, kneeling down and pressing your hand against the vent.

Slowly letting out a breath, you don’t feel any warmth blowing out onto your hand. This will certainly be a fun announcement, you think and wonder how Wanda is probably gonna set this whole house on fire to stay warm. You peek your head into the den and let out another sigh, there’s still no static coming through. You tried already to knock some snow off the antennae, with mixed results on your descent. This blizzard’s already knocked out vital equipment and it hasn’t even hit full force.

Trudging down the hallway, you come around the corner with an amazing slide on your socks. Opening your mouth to let Wanda know the situation, you stop as you hear Wanda whispering in front of the fire. Feeding it more wood as she tells it to grow bigger and warmer.

“Are you talking to-?”

“I’ve seen how stroking your ego makes your head bigger, figured it would make the fire bigger.”

You point at her but let her have this when you see her teasing grin, reaching out for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. Tossing a towel at her, you start to pour some of the amber liquid into the coffee mugs you had this morning. Wanda squeezes the water from her hair as you hold up one of the mugs,

“This should keep you warm.”

Wanda hums and floats the mug towards her outreached hand, the warmth of her magic tickling up your arm, “And make bad decisions.”

You shrug, “I won’t let you run out into the blizzard naked.”

She scoffs as you slowly make your way to her, never taking your eyes from hers. You stop at the back of the sofa, eyeing the wood and wondering if it’d be better to move it all to a bedroom. A smaller space to warm.

“Why am I going to be naked? Is that why you’re keeping your distance?” She glances at how you’ve sat awkwardly against the couch edge, “Or was it cause you’re afraid of me for talking to the fire? I’ve heard being sociable is wildly attractive.”

You glance down at your whiskey as you swirl it around after a small sip, “I’m sure people have a lot of reasons to think you’re wildly attractive.”

There’s a soft silence between you, forcing your eyes to rise and see a playful grin on her face, “Does the alcohol reach your brain that fast?”

“Is that how you always sit on a chair?” you counter, seeing her sitting on the arm rest, as if she’s prepared to take off at any moment.

You both stare at each other, sipping from your mugs together and grinning. The wind howls outside and snow swirls around the windows but inside, there’s nothing but warmth. A comfort. You would never admit it, but you’re thankful for this blizzard. An unexpected lengthening of the mission. Wanda lets out a hum as she slithers into the seat, curling her legs up.

“What,” you chuckle, “I didn’t plan this. And I didn’t sign that mind reading waiver.”

Wanda sips on the whiskey, “You’re telling me you can’t control the weather?”

“Innocent,” you hold up your one free hand as you follow Wanda’s move down into your own seat, “Get Natasha on the radio right now, she’ll tell you. Well.. you could if the storm didn’t knock out our comms.”

Her brow rises slightly, seeing that you’re still hiding something. You take another sip of whiskey and hide behind the mug, “And our heat.”

“Oh yes, I see. Far too much work to alter the atmosphere, cut off all our communication and have our heat taken away. I’m not important enough to go through all that trouble?”

You breathe in carefully, “You…,” leaning forward onto your knees and feeling the warmth of the alcohol running through your limbs, “Have no idea how important you are.”

Wanda places down an empty mug, “Don’t I?”

You grin, a confidence she always hid running off of her, “You are more important than that North Star.”

Her green eyes widen, a slow breath filling her lungs as she rolls one of the rings on her fingers, “You paid attention.”

“To you? Always,” you have your eyes follow your movement as you place down your mug, “Wanda?”

“Yeah?”

Clearing your throat as you try to get a chuckle out, you massage the stiffness from your fingers, “I’ve heard of another way to get warm.”

Wanda raises a brow, “With how you’re talking, I’m a little worried.”

“I read in a book once,” you start jokingly, and Wanda turns her head, covering her mouth to keep herself from mockingly asking that you can read and looks at you with gleaming eyes, “It’s easier to pass body heat when there isn’t clothing interfering.”

“How about we use that as a last resort, after your beloved strip poker. Because you can make a fire in here,” Wanda laughs as you watch her walk off to the bedroom, the wood floating behind her. Your chuckle falls short as you make a face at the scene. Wondering why she didn’t do that out by the shed and bring over all the wood. You shake your head but smile like an idiot to yourself, knowing she just wanted to be there.

Leaning against the doorway, you watch her try to set up the logs. She’d been watching you for the past week, asking questions and being so close her touch and smell intoxicated you more than the whiskey ever could. Wanda’s fingers set up the twigs and rolls the newspaper as she floats the light up to her hand and starts to try and get this fire roaring.

Working your way inside, you watch her in silence and grin at the seriousness on her face. Moving the logs to the holder, you hobble after one that rolls away from your grasp. You watch it get engulfed in an iridescent red glow and slowly float towards and then past you.

“Why are you limping?”

You tie up the bag of extra logs and toss it in the corner, “What?”

Wanda watches the fire for a moment and then looks back to you, “You’re limping. What did you do?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrug as you try to hobble quickly out of the bedroom and to the kitchen in an escape. She calls out your name but you’re fast on this throbbing ankle. But as you reach the kitchen and push up the sleeves of your shirt, Wanda is already there. She runs her hands down your arm and gently looks at the scratches on your hands.

“What happened?”

You sigh, “I climbed to fix the comms this morning. And it was really icy up there,”

“You fell off the roof?!” she exclaims, smacking you for not telling her before. You swat away her hands before they actually hit one of the forming bruises on your body.

“The snow doesn’t provide much padding, I’ve learned,” you grimace out as the soreness in your shoulder is finally appearing as you lift the filled kettle.

“Jesus,” Wanda whispers and yanks you away as the water starts to heat up, “Come here,”

Her yanking is insistent. She’s not asking permission to shove you down into the chair. And she’s certainly not apologizing for making you shout out in pain when your weight falls onto your hip.

“That hurts!” You flinch away from her touch as she tries to look you over for some probable internal bleeding. A damp towel floats into her hand and the warmth is soon dabbing at the swollen scratch on your cheek that was hidden from the redness caused from the wind whipping outside. Her leg rests on your thigh, providing her support and you can feel the pressure slowly start to turn into pain. That was where you landed directly on a camouflaged tree stump and buried your face into the frozen ground to muffle your yell.

But you have no frozen ground to muffle this yell, “Ow!” you shout directly in her face.

“Well dammit, Y/N! What doesn’t hurt?!”

You look at her, “Why? You have some voodoo magic? A Sokovian old wive’s tale you swear by?”

She raises a silent brow, telling you in a simple stare to watch your tone. She didn’t make you fall off the roof and she didn’t cause the embarrassment you’re feeling for no reason. With a sigh, you lean back into the chair and point towards your shoulder, “Here,”

Wanda rolls her eyes and mockingly kisses her hand and presses it against the throbbing shoulder. You can feel the warmth without seeing the muted red that escapes her palm, “The building isn’t that high.”

“The ground is that hard. Here,” you point to the top of your head. Her lips press softly against her glowing palm as she gently pulls off your beanie and presses the warmth against the injury free part of your forehead.

She leans close, your breaths merging together as you can still smell the whiskey on her breath. Her eyes glance over you, searching for hidden scratches. Gliding over your stare and finding their way to your lips. She pulls in a deep breath, fingers gently running across your neck,

“How do you feel now?”

You watch her eyes find yours again, your hands resting on either side of her thighs. Feeling how gently she sways, how close she lingers. Your body is warm, as if every square inch of you is being massaged out of every kink and knot. It comforts you in a way you’ve only found from this witch. A comfort that’s only grown more addicting with each passing day, each passing moment.

A violent whistle explodes through the house. Both of you jumping and any thoughts of finding more comfort ends. You lean back into the seat as Wanda glances back at the screaming kettle. Leaving your side to silence it, you push off of the seat and limp around her.

There’s nothing but silence between the two of you as you work in unison. Handing her mugs that already have each of your favorite tea’s tossed inside. Wanda pouring in the boiling water as a floating spoon puts in the exact amount of required sugar. It was a perfect concert of movement and thoughts you’d never expected to share with anyone. And as you look over at the red head, you know she hasn’t read a single mind in your head. All of this being simple subconscious, your conscious thoughts racing with other contemplations.

_____________________________

Blankets are thrown and a hood is pulled taut around your face. Feet are slammed into slippers as you shuffle quickly across the floor and a hiss follows after you.

“I’m keeping the fire going!” you call back to her, as you quickly stack the logs to keep the fire fed for hours to come. The bedroom is warm everywhere the orange glow touches but the cold fingers of the dark close in as the evening continues. Threatening to make your breaths reappear.

“You’re letting all the cold air in!” Wanda rolls herself in the loosened covers as you climb back into the bed. You yank the stolen sheets back to you, dragging her closer to you as she doesn’t dare let go of the warmth.

“I should’ve just moved my own bed in here, blanket hog,” you mutter and try to hibernate your whole body beneath the blankets.

But cold has snuck its way in as you feel a sharp chill on your bare arms, vulnerable after you shoved up your sleeves so they didn’t burn with the fire. You jump from the chilling fingers that wrap around your arms.

“Wanda,” you shiver out and yank down your sleeves, “Where are your freaking mittens?”

“I lost them in the snow, stop moving the sheets!” she yells through gritted teeth and pulls more of your sheets, surprising you with this hidden strength.

You groan, moving with the yanking and flipping yourself over onto your other side. Taking your hands from your hoodie pocket, you wrap your arms around her. Wanda tenses, rolling away and shoving you back to your side.

“What the hell are you doing?” her green eyes flicker around your face, her words coming out nearly breathless.

“Do you want them to find us frozen to death in here? It’s just getting colder.” Wanda narrows her stare as you continue, “Or I can keep these little hand warmers to myself.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “You ass,” flipping back over and pulling your arms back around her. You rub the hand warmers together before pressing them against her, feeling how cold she had been even with all these blankets. She lets out a quiet moan and you're silenced as your breath catches in your throat. Slowly, her body stops the beginning of its shivers and her chattering teeth have stopped.

“Thank you,” she whispers as she scoots herself further into you, your arms wrapping ever so slightly tighter around her.

“What letter plan is our last resort? L? Q? Cause if we die of hypothermia I’m going to blame you,” you mutter into her neck and she shivers a little bit.

She knocks her shoulder back into you, “Don’t do that,”

“What. I’m just talking, Maximoff,” you breathe out heavily and watch the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Before you can pester her more, she whips around and presses you down onto the bed, her fingers wrapped tightly around your hoodie.

“I’m going to murder you before the cold does,” Her hand smashes you down into your pillow,

You nod your head side to side for a moment, “That’s smart. I could be a good food source. I’d eat through the leftovers we have first, though.”

“Shut up,” she says and when you look up, you expect her rolling eyes and her to flop back onto the bed. But neither of those things happen. Her grip on your hoodie has softened, the palms of her hands resting lightly on your body. Wanda rests on top of you, her eyes flashing down to your lips and up to your eyes. You clench your brows, fingers creeping up to her wrists, “Just…”

“Just what?” you chuckle nervously, unable to read what’s happening in front of you, nothing but complete seriousness on her face.

The palm on your chest now hovers over your face, her thumb tracing along your face. You breathe calmly, finding her studying eyes as her thumb slides carefully across your lips.

“I think you should just kiss me,”

You feel the shock first. Your body nearly falling limp as all of your senses explode. Feeling exactly how she rests on top of you, where each of her fingers presses down onto your body. The smell of firewood smoke and lavender wafting off of her and into your nose. The flashes of firelight that show how wide her pupils have exploded in her eyes.

It’s a quick paralysis. The part of your brain you’ve had chained finally getting the permission it’s long been waiting for. You grip the back of her neck and slam your lips against hers. She straddles your lap as you press yourself up against the headboard, lips moving in unison. Her lips are as cold as the air around you but you can feel the warmth of her breath as her lips part in a sigh.

Pulling apart, she rests her forehead on yours as you both pant out into the darkening evening. You feel her fingers grip onto your hoodie tightly, pulling herself towards you, closer than you thought could be possible. And you watch the grin on her lips form ever so softly.

“We should’ve done that sooner,” she breathes out with a chuckle, but you don’t chuckle with her.

“Wanda-,” she presses her fingers to your lips.

Her lips gently find yours again as your hands glide across her thighs. You're intoxicated every moment she touches you, any discipline you had all these months forgotten with a single kiss, a single glance. Your hands rest at the edge of her sweater, pushing up the fabric and your lips parting for only a moment as it rises above her face. Your fingers trace along her silk skin beneath the long sleeve she has under. Her fingers grip your hair tightly as you guide your lips down her neck. Spending time at the tender pulsing point under her skin, listening to the quiet moan that escapes her lips.

“I swear to god,” she sighs out but pulling you closer, “If you give me a hickey, I’m-,”

“Uh huh,” you mutter, “Ripping my limbs off.” You peck her lips, “Blah,” and again, “Blah.”

It’s nearly cold enough to see each other’s breaths perfectly as you pant out into the darkness. You don’t mind the chill. Both of you undressing until there’s barely anything left but the electricity coursing through your veins.

The fire burns brightly behind you now. The glow curling around in a comforting warmth, lighting up the woman in front of you. Cupping her face with a careful touch, you part yourself from her lips and listen to the whining moan that comes from her.

“You’re not supposed to stop. We’ll start thinking,” she warns you, but doesn’t yank you back to her.

Your eyes study her, the flickering of the flames and the glowing of the moon that comes through the waning clouds. Staring at her now, there’s a feeling of weightlessness inside of your chest as your limbs begin to tingle. Your fingertips explode with sensations with each trace down her arms you drag.

“Are you-,”

She can see the worry on your face, the thoughts you hide and the desperation in your eyes to not let this be a one time thing. But it’s a secret you try to hold, yet you know how well she can read all of them. Her green eyes wash over you, memorizing you with each slow blink. You don't want this to be like all of your other times. Animalistic and feral, ripping clothes off. You’d rather it never happen at all then to happen like that.

“Yes, Y/N.” she whispers, “Are you going to kiss me again or do I have to do it myself?”

You grin at her, “Yes ma’am.”

Those green eyes become hidden as you press a soft kiss onto her lips Her fingers grip your hair tightly as you softly guide your fingers down her neck, admiring each curve and line on her body. Not wanting to miss a single mark on the woman in front of you.

You hook beneath the straps of her bra, as you guide your mouth down her soft skin. Kissing along her collarbone, you plant a long kiss against her shoulder. You know that these shoulders hold more than just these straps every day and you hope to help her slide it aside. They've carried the memory of her family upon them. The world that thrives because of what she’s done, what she’s sacrificed. She holds everything so effortlessly. Never a complaint to the world, but you’ve seen the weight nearly destroy her. You know her. If you can, you’ll help take it all away for just a moment.

She arches towards you, running her nails down your back before she grabs your face and brings your lips back to her. You sit up to work at the final layer on your body but she grips you tightly, her eyes begging you to stay close. To look into her eyes and see her.

And you do.

You hover over her as her fingers slowly unbutton each button with her delicate fingers. As you look into her eyes, you don’t want to hide anymore. One by one, they come undone just as you come undone in her eyes. You know these eyes have seen your insecurities, your fears. One by one, they showed themselves to her.

Slowly, she slides the soft fabric down your back, feeling the way your muscles clench against the cold touch. Nails turning white as you grip her tighter, not letting her stray from you.

“Drop it, Y/N.” she whispers as she pulls the fabric from your hands. You clench your brows softly as she runs her hand down your back again, “You’re not just carrying the weight of that button down.”

You breathe out carefully, slowly lowering yourself as you wrap your arms around her. Pressing kisses against her lips. Not feverishly and forceful like before. You aren’t desperately grasping at this moment to keep it from slipping away. You’re holding on deeply to have it last.

Gripping the blankets the two of you were fighting over, you throw them over your bodies as you grip Wanda’s waist. Guiding your kisses down her body, you cover every inch of her sweet body with your lips. Caressing her curves with the tips of your fingers as you soak in her beauty. It feels like you’ve waited all your life for just this single moment, an inescapable feeling of being whole.

You were constantly reminded that nothing was perfect, everything has its flaws. But as you memorize every part of the woman in front of you, how soft her skin is beneath your fingertips, the lavender that wafts from her and intoxicates you, how her fingers hold you so close, to her quiet sigh, you realize something. That if nothing was perfect, then she was absolutely nothing.

“You’re so warm,” she sighs out, her fingers reaching for you. You intertwine her fingers in yours as you climb up from her thighs, slowly kissing her jaw.

You freeze, hovering just above her lips and wait for those green eyes to flutter and rest on yours. She smiles when she sees you there, her hand resting on your cheek.

“You’re…” you breathe out a heavy sigh, grinning over how she’s taken away every ability to be irritating. “You’re gorgeous. You have no idea how beautiful you are.” you tell her, pressing a deep kiss onto her lips. Wanting to stay just like this.

Her hands hold onto you tightly and her sighs fill you with a warmth you’ve not felt in years. A brightness that you swear you can see shine from within her. And you wonder, if this was the only time you’d ever be able to let that light shine without messing it up. How each of these moments together has been in darkness. Can you only feel her in the darkness? Were you still hiding?

You remember a time where you lived in the light, but now you’re worn out. Scared of what that morning light could bring as it swept away the darkness of the night. The night that you could hide behind. You knew that she’d be there through the night, a single bed and a fire made it certain. But when the morning light came, nothing would hold her there.

You could be everything she needed in the night but for her to stay in the morning and for you to exist beside her, your hope couldn’t reach that high to lie and say it was possible.

“Y/N,” she whispers against your lips and you feel your chest constrict as she speaks your name in such a way. Your palm pressing against the cold skin of her stomach, listening to how she gasps at your warm touch. “Don’t leave.”

You stare down at her and swallow tightly, would she wait for you to wake from the darkness? You take your hand and glide the back of your fingers across her cheek, stroking away a fallen tear.

“Wanda,”

“When we get Sturcker. Don’t leave. Stay.” her voice barely reaches your ears, but when it does, it’s like a jackhammer on your chest.

Looking down at her, you see her. You’ve always seen her. Sitting outside your cell, she was never a witch. She was the woman with emerald sea eyes that peered so deeply into you. You’ve seen her and you know her. Every physical inch of her and every emotional inch.

She knew this, she bared her fears and vulnerabilities to you. And you’d done the same. You see everything you need right here. You realize that you don’t care where you are, as long as you’re with her. That’s all that matters to you now.

You shake your head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She sighs and closes her eyes tightly, the slightest grin forming on her lips.

“Hey,” you whisper to her gently, pressing against her dimple as you wait for her to look at you, “Wipe that grin off your face and kiss me.”

____________________________________

You hear the soft beeping of your alarm. 535 in the morning. It was time to start your day and you could feel a tightening in your chest that was never there before. You’re terrified to open your eyes. Wondering if she was still there. If wanda laid there still next to you or if it was all a cruel dream.

As you reach out for your water to quench the dryness in your throat, you feel a weight on top of you. Unfamiliar to any other time you’ve woken up. Opening your eyes slowly, you see that Wanda lays across you. You eye the completely empty side of her bed with a grin. It was warm inside the bed, you could stay in here a little longer before you face the blistering cold. The day would keep moving so you stay anyway.

Arms are tied around each other and your legs are numb as hers wrap tightly around your knees. The sun sneaks through the window blinds onto her face as you look down at her. You grin, grateful for the rising sun that burned against closed eyes and woke you a second time. If only to see this.

The sunflower intricately weaved into the chain around her neck. She truly was the sun itself.

The sun that shook the frost from you. That had you not acting so angry all the time. Or keeping it all inside. You try so hard to tell her how much you care for her everyday but you don’t even know what that means. That you care for her. You don’t have any words yet, as you reach forward and swipe a stray hair from her face.

She sighs in her sleep, scooting closer but her grip loosens. Freeing you to finally get the day started but you continue to stay there, for just one moment more. Every breath you take with her reminds you that each day is now yours. A hopeful thought as you rise out of the bed, ensuring the blankets keep Wanda nestled in their comforting warmth in your absence.

Sneaking back inside, you hear her starting to wake up as shake the chill from your bones and the snow from your feet. The smell of coffee fills the house and you ensure her coffee is made exactly to her liking. As the fire begins to reawaken with the logs you feed it, you place Wanda’s mug onto the bedside table.

“Are you still alive?”

There’s a muffled groan and a half asleep voice comes from within the pillow, “Depends who’s asking,”

You crouch down in front of her, swirling the coffee underneath her nose. She scrunches it, much to your amusement.

“I’m asking.”

She grins, trying to hold down her giggle, “Then no,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh come on. I see that little grin. You’re not even trying to hide it!”

Wanda looks out through one eye at you. She grins at your smile, the first sight of the day and you feel the warmth it sends through your chest.

“Oooo, coffee?”

“Yeah, you know. To hide the morning breath,” you grin as you take a sip of yours.

Her hand comes from beneath the sheets in a sneak attack, slapping your arm, “Yours is way worse.” That attacking hand reaches out again, this time grabbing your shirt and pulling you to her, “C’mere.”

You quickly place your mug on the bedside table before you’re both burned and you get lost in her kisses. You chuckle into her lips as she rolls to try and keep her lips on yours as you climb over her and clamber back underneath the covers. You flop onto your stomach, still halfway on top of her as she lazily runs her fingers around the back of your thigh.

“You fixed the heater, didn’t you?”

You make a noise of affirmation, eyes feeling heavy in this warmth. She runs her cold hand up your shirt, a perfect contrast as you feel her fingers trace the scars on your body.

“Wasn’t it cold?”

You shrug and then tense when you feel her lips touch your skin. Her kisses press against your scars all along your body.

“If I could,” her breath brushes against your skin, “I would kiss these all away.”

Wanda presses a kiss against your cheek and her hair falls over you in a soft curtain as she lays next to you.

“I’m glad for them,” you murmur into the pillow, your eyes still closed as her nose gently strokes yours.

Her brows clench softly, “Really?” she whispers and you slowly open your eyes.

“They got me here,” you say and see her grin, fingers stroking down your face, “Good morning.”

She raises her brows, “Indeed. How’d you sleep?”

You hum out, feeling her kiss your nose, “Did I snore?” Wanda nods and you feel it. You chuckle, “Then I slept perfectly. It was a long night though.

She chuckles and sits up, wrapping herself in the hoodie you laid on the comforter for her and you open your eyes to her sipping on her coffee.

“Last day on mission,” she whispers, blowing against the steam of her drink.

You make a noise, disappointed that it’s the truth.

“How do you think everyone will take it after hearing about this?”

You sigh, “I say we just don’t say anything. How about that?”

She nods, staring into her coffee, “What happened in a snowed in cabin stays in a snowed in cabin?”

“Oh no,” you chuckle and squeeze the pillow, “I think we have a few things to talk about,” Your voice was light and joking but Wanda’s fingers stopped tracing along your arm, her eyes looking straight past you.

Wanda breathes in carefully, “Jokes aside, we do have to talk this through don’t we? I… I meant it when I said you can’t leave.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips against her fingers, “I told you I had nowhere to go. But we’re already having the talk?”

She rolls her eyes, “You know, I don’t think you blaming being a mercenary for making you single is true. It’s just a talk, coward.”

You sigh, feeling her leg rest on top of yours, “I just slept with the strongest Avenger. I’m impervious to your insults.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of this.”

“But,” you grin over at her, “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” And you’re right, your grin growing as you watch her nose scrunch and her cheeks grow red.

The way she looks at you, the shock that jolts through you each time you see her and the flipping of your stomach when you hear her voice. It feels like it should be obvious what you should be feeling right now. But something feels wrong. Something inside of you is keeping you from latching onto her with no regrets and complete devotion. Something pushes you away and as she looks down at you, you know she can see it. She can see you.

With a silent nod, Wanda brushes back some of your hair, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now,” Lips press against yours as you breathe in deeply, “Thank you for fixing the heater.”

You hum out, feeling her fingers start their tracing once again and start to lull you back into a comfortable sleep. They trace over your scars and you just sink deeper into the bed, knowing you’ve told her about almost all of them on your body by now. But her finger runs against a rather new, raised gash. Over and over again, inspecting it with a careful stare.

“That’s the one I gave you isn’t it?”

Chuckling, you glance behind your shoulder and point to a jagged gash on the side of your thigh, you remember your thigh was ripped to shreds that mission, “I’m surprised you didn’t go for this one.”

“Please,” Wanda rolls her eyes, “I’m humble.”

You hum, “That’s the one. A little to the left and you would’ve caught my artery. Talk about messy.”

She makes an intrigued sound but leans over to kiss it before sliding beneath the covers, “I thought about it.”

“I’m sure you did,” you press a soft kiss to her lips as she squeezes the pillow to her liking, “I’m glad you didn’t do it.”

“So am I,” she whispers, but you know there’s no period at the end of that sentence. There’s something eating at her still as her hand glides down your arm and the other settles beneath her head. Her fingers gently wrap around yours and your thumb slowly strokes along the top of her hand, an action you don’t even think about until you’re already doing it.

You stay silent. Raising your brow gently, waiting for her to speak. You hope it won’t take long because you can feel yourself sinking into the bed as you let out a quiet yawn.

“Do you hurt?” she whispers and you stare, waiting. “I don’t mean pain but your past. Does it hurt you?”

Taking in a deep sigh, you ponder for a moment and glance away with a burning feeling of shame for how you’ve lived your life, “Now that I've truly looked at it, I suppose it does.”

“Do you regret it?”

You pick your eyes up and stare into her, finding no judgment in those emerald eyes as she offers you more time to think, “Being a mercenary?”

You breathe in slowly, jaw clenching and grasp on her hand growing ever so slightly tighter. “It’s hard to regret something you didn’t choose. This… it was all I knew.”

“But if the choice had been yours, what would you have done instead? Could learn any trade? Would you be a farmer?” A smile expands on her face as she realizes something, scooting closer into you, “An astrologist?”

You chuckle, remembering the chilly night on that cold bench, “Maybe I could find the Little Dipper.”

Wanda laughs, a sound so heavenly and sweet but her eyes intently wait for your answer. And you give her one.

“But if I ever thought of being something else… Something that… I’m not. It happened so long ago. I don't remember.” Your voice is getting lower as your eyes grow heavier. Your body is so calm. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly relaxed as much as you have in this moment, “Did you dream of being a hero?”

Wanda thinks for a moment but soon the answer finds her, “I didn’t have much choice either.”

You turn your head more towards her, letting out a soft sigh, “Did you always want a family like this?”

“I lost my family,” her green eyes glance away from you, thinking of what could’ve been, “And I found another but… I dreamed of becoming important to someone. One day.”

The battle has been lost as your eyes fall, a hum coming from deep within your throat. A chuckle gently pulls you back for a moment,

“Do I bore you?”

You open your eyes slowly, seeing the humor in Wanda’s eyes. You grin, eyes closing once again when you see she isn’t angry, “Of course not. I’m just listening better.”

She laughs, fingers just skimming your arm and leaving behind a radiating feeling with each pass, “Have you ever been in love? Been important to someone?”

You sigh, clutching your pillow tighter as you wonder if this would be the moment, “I thought I was, That scar on my chest is… well, I thought wrong. And the knife proved it. Never could let my guard down again.”

Wanda hums quietly, brushing the hair from your face and resting her hand on your forearm. Seeing just how much of your guard was let down right now, on a mission of all places. Gently, you open your eyes and look at her. A soft stare as her blown out pupils look to you, fingers running down and over the scar you mentioned. So vulnerable, she could kill you without a single thought. But all you feel is warmth. And you wish to let her know.

“Before we met, my days were planned down to the hour. They were calm. My nights were restless, gathering enough energy to go get through the day. Sleeping on floors,” you grin lightly but her eyes haven’t left your half exhausted face, “But now, my days…”

The world around you is losing physical form as your consciousness starts to slip away and so does your control on your tongue, “… You’re important to me.”

As you start to relax into dreams, you can feel a cold touch on your skin. Running across your forehead, you relax the wrinkles between your brows as the chill touch slides down the bridge of your nose. It rests on your jaw, a soft caressing along your cheek as you let out a soft sigh. Warm breath washes over your face and you feel the smallest grinning kiss press against your cheek.

“The past has passed,” she whispers against your skin, “Let’s stay in right now.”

As her fingers trace along your body, it’s just you and her, and there’s nothing more you want. She’s everything. And you know exactly why your heart flutters each time her eyes find you, why your skin burns every moment her cold hands touch you. Whenever she’s near, you were right where you needed to be. And right now, it all became crystal clear.

You didn’t need the night to be alive anymore. You could live on your own. But Wanda in the morning time makes you glad you’re still alive.

———————Chapter 17

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #accidentally on purpose #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda fluff #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda mcc

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Imagine

18+ Minors dni

Bucky x f reader

A/N: self indulging here with how we ended up down this rabbit hole. A lil cocky Bucky.

Warnings: Dirty talking, a little smut, illusions to smut, swearing

The TikTok that started it all: https://www.tiktok.com/@hungrymathi/video/6948835965326707973?_t=8Tqbk2XuzbB&_r=1

Word count: 1.2k

You looked around you, sighing contently seeing no one else in the shared living room. You plopped down onto the large couch, snuggling into the cushions, pulling your phone out.

Tumblr.

Wattpad.

AO3.

The holy trinity; your latest guilty pleasure and favourite place to be. It all started with a tiktok.

Avengers walking in on you naked

You snickered at the accuracy of how each person would react; Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter but then the next avenger made your stomach clench. The one and only James Buchanan Barnes. The other avengers would run away or sneak a little glance. Bucky on the other hand, flicks his eyes over your body, licking his lips before walking in and shutting the door behind him. Sure, it was someone else pretending to be Bucky but that did it for you, you had entered a very interesting rabbit hole. You let curiosity get the best of you, searching his name and finding hundreds of TikToks. Some were some rather spicy edits of him working out or pictures of him shirtless. Those were nice, but what really sent you into a spiral were the stories.

It felt wrong but so right. He was your co-worker (disgustingly hot co-worker) for fucks sake but…

The first video you came across made you blush like a little school girl, momentarily confused about wtf y/n stood for. It was an elaborate story about you and Bucky pining for each other, classic idiots in love, there were almost 50 videos for the one story. It was sweet. Wholesome.

And then there were the ones where you were apparently Tony’s daughter (not too different from reality, Tony was very protective over you, more like a brother) and you were caught hooking up with Bucky. It started off with him teasing you, then you sat on his lap and then…. Butterfly emoji. You can imagine the rest?

You huffed because it was never enough, the videos always hinting to sexy times but with 0 details and fuck you wanted to details! You scrolled through the comments, seeing a number of people recommending Wattpad and AO3 stories that had all the details.

You figured just a peek wouldn’t cause any harm, you’d see what it’s about and it’d scratch the itch. You were so fucking wrong because with each story you read, you only wanted more. You allowed your mind to explore all the fantasies you always had, your heart racing and stomach erupting into butterflies with each spicy detail.

It didn’t help that all the fics were all so accurate. They all nailed Bucky’s personality and you were able to imagine everything perfectly. You did your best to hide your filthy little secret from everyone but it was becoming more and more difficult.

Which led you here; to this very moment. You kept the phone extra close to your face so no one would be able to sneak a peek at your screen, immersing yourself in the smuttiest of fics. Your heart was racing as the plot line was reaching its climax with Bucky ramming his cock into you against a wall.

“Whatcha reading there y/n?”

You shrieked, throwing your phone across the room, looking back to see Bucky with a smirk, his head cocked to the side right behind you.

How long had he been standing there?!

“N-nothing! I- cookies! It’s a cookie recipe!” You grabbed your phone and headed straight for your room without looking back, feeling his eyes watch your flustered form run away.

“Cookies my ass” Bucky smirked to himself, his cock stirring in his jeans.

You slammed the door shut, throwing yourself onto your bed to scream into your pillow. Ugh, why were you reading that in the middle of the living room like a perv. You had no idea how you were going to face him again, deciding to take a very cold shower because your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You let the cold water shock you, your mind racing hoping to Bucky didn’t actually see what you were reading but who were you kidding. He had super everything, hearing, sight, stealth, he was probably able to smell how aroused you were too. You shook your head, contemplating on sending Tony a resignation letter, maybe moving to Switzerland, live out your days as a cow on a nice pastoral farm. You switched off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around you. You stepped out of the bathroom, your soul leaving your body; towel almost falling in the process.

Bucky was lying on your bed, casually scrolling through your phone, a shit eating grin on his face; how the hell did he know your pass code?!

You gripped onto your towel, bolting towards him, straddling him, trying to grab your phone, struggling as he grinned holding it out of your reach.

“Bucky!! Ugh, give it back! That’s private, you can’t just scroll through someone phone like that!” The towel nearly slipped off as you momentarily let go of it, squirming on his hips, your face flushing as you clutched it again.

“I thought we were friends doll, friends don’t hide secrets”

He continued to hold the phone out of your grasp, his eyes trailing the water droplets that were running down your neck, past your collarbone and into the valley of your breasts. He let out an involuntary groan each time your hips clumsily rocked forward, your breasts bouncing in his face, inching closer to his mouth.

“There are no secrets, you’re just being a creep right now, give me my phone back!” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, sitting back right on his crotch, your eyes growing wide as you felt his clothed cock pressing into your ass.

“Maybe you can tell me what you’ve been up to on your phone then, been noticing you’ve been glued to it recently”

Bucky grabbed your hips to sit right above his achingly hard length, moving you to grind on him. You gasped, unable to process anything that was happening right now, as he licked his lips, watching your mouth gape, your brain glitching. You could feel your core clench around nothing, arousal pouring out of you. Bucky gripped your ass, flipping you around, trapping you under him, his metal hand holding both of your hands pinned above your head.

“Tell me what you were reading”

“I…”

Bucky smirked, watching the way your eyes flicked between his eyes and lips, moving closer to your face so his lips would brush against yours as he spoke.

“You like imagining all the dirty thing’s Id do to you?”

You nodded, whimpering, your legs spreading apart further allowing him to rut his clothed throbbing length onto your desperate core.

“You like imaging me pounding you against a wall, wrapping my metal hand around your throat while I fuck your brains out?”

You moaned, squirming under him, trying to rub yourself on him, the growing ache between your legs was becoming unbearable. Bucky reached between your bodies, ripping the towel off you, leaving you bare underneath him. He sat up, tugging his shirt off before laying back on you again, his hand making its way down, teasing your folds while he kissed your neck.

“You don’t have to imagine babydoll, I can just show you”

Please let me know if you wanted to be added or removed from the taglist!

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72

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look-at-the-soul · 6 months

Text

The Photoshoot -Peaky Blinders edition

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader (+Alfie)

Summary: Y/N is hired to do a Photoshoot at a pub, but she’ll find much more than just an object to capture.

Word count: 4,500

A/N: I’m practically drooling with the Photoshoot series (for Cillian), so I thought why not give it some kind of twist and create the same magic for the peaky world… my dear @raincoffeeandfandoms this is for you! For your 3K followers celebration 🎉 thank you for being a lovely mutual, for your kindness, for your stories, I’m so grateful that I’ve met you here ✨ps: there are two moodboards as part of this story 🤭

Ps2: if you’re ever to Texas let me know! The bar that’s mentioned in the story is real! And it gave me all the peaky blinders Garrison’s vibe 😍 and brisket is OMG!

“Look at the numbers brother.” Arthur walked in without knocking first into his brother’s office.

Deep blue orbs hardly looking away from his laptop as Arthur placed the papers with numbers and graphics next to his glass of whiskey.

“Hmm.”

“The place is packed again.” Arthur’s mustache moved up and down as he smiled pleased.

Tommy took the almost consumed cigarette from the ashtray and took a long puff as he ran his eyes across the papers.

“That’s great brother.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, two pairs of eyes looked back.

“Arthur, the photographer is downstairs.” Lizzie announced.

“Are you a model now Art?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow.

Arthur giggled nervously, but shook his head. “Finn hired her to get photos of the place for our social media.”

“Fucking social media.” Tommy mumbled to himself, it was all everyone was talking about lately, are you posting that? That’s so asthetic, why didn’t you like my post?… he was so done with that shit.

“But works like a charm, look.” Arthur showed him the screen of his phone, a video of someone making a cocktail and then the door to The Tavern. “We’re getting lots of likes and comments.”

Tommy hummed, he had been listening a lot about this photographer lately and all the fantastic work she was doing with the pub. And now he had to admit curiosity was winning over.

Secretly he had been watching her photography media, the videos she created to give tips and tricks to achieve certain images or effects, she was a natural and had a very sharp eye to find little gems everywhere. It was such a surprise and a treat to see flirty sneak peek she shared about the pub. He was particularly curious about the profile photo of her Instagram account, because her face was hidden behind the camera, he could only see a blurry reflection in a mirror

An incoming call kept him busy for a while as he was trying to solve a problem with one of the tobacco vendors, a new law affected the price and now he was in the middle of an endless negotiation.

It was until a few hours later when he finally called for the night at the pub and decided to head somewhere else, one look at his phone and he practically had a catalog to choose from, these women weren’t exactly discreet or lady-like…

Placing the peaky cap on his head and he stopped on his tracks as his eyes fixed on the woman holding the camera in front of the bar, her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head with a few loose locks here and there, she adjusted something and a bright light focused on a couple of empty glasses.

He observed her checking the camera angle and she walked again towards the bar to adjust one of the glasses she previously placed.

After blinking for the flash, she focused on the screen placed at the end of the bar.

Tommy saw her smile forming from the side and felt as if time stopped suddenly.

The petite form moved to the side with the light and tripod close to her and without saying anything, she captured the captain of The Tavern placing an order.

“Sorry, I wanted to capture your natural essence, without posing.” She announced in a soft tone that had a lot of effects on Tommy. “Look! You’ve a nice profile.”

As she showed Pablo her camera, Tommy saw him smile shyly.

“You make me look good.”

“Can I squeeze in behind the bar? I’d like to get a few shoots of the barrels.”

“Of course.” He winked. “All yours.”

As Pablo moved back, she squeezed uncomfortably between him and the bar, holding her camera above her head.

She removed a piece of cloth to the side and then Tommy saw her do something equally weird and funny, as she closed one eye from different heights, he was fascinated by the way she moved and arched her body to capture the image she wanted. After a few clicks, she kept staring at the small screen in the camera.

“Can I have a pint please?” A deep voice startled her.

Looking from side to side she blinked nervously.

Struggling to find her voice at the bluest eyes of them all staring back at her with a smile. “Sorry, errm I’m just a photographer.”

“Oh! Apologies then, I didn’t see the camera.” Tommy lied leaning closer to the bar and extending his hand to her. “Thomas Shelby.”

“Y/N Y/LN. I better get going and leave you to a real bartender.” She chuckled and the dim light didn’t hide her blush.

“‘S okay… how’s The Photoshoot going?”

“Great! I’m in love with this place.”

“Are you drinking something?” He asked as she walked around the bar to stand in front of him now.

“Just water, I’m in working hours.”

“I’m sure the owner won’t mind a glass.” Tommy winked at her.

“Thank you, but I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

“A snack then? Have you tried something from the menu yet?” Tommy tried again, raising his hand he called for the closest waiter. “Make sure to provide Y/N with anything she needs please, on the house she’s our guest tonight.”

Y/N gave him a confused look before realizing how he matched the atmosphere of the place in total sync. He belonged there, he owned such an interesting presence, elegant, business-like, a troublemaker. As he nodded, she went back to focus on her task, the one thing that was consistent in her life; her love for photography, to capture an instant, not noticing that Tommy instead of going home to an unknown blonde, stayed close to the bar to see her work.

The following days, Tommy took a moment to step out of his office upstairs once he heard she had arrived, he would casually walk past her and sit in a corner where he could see her working, not wanting to interrupt her in the middle of shooting something at the pub.

Even if it was for a brief moment, they’d engage in a interesting conversation.

Arthur even teased him for leaving his cave for once, oblivious to the real reason behind his actions, he’d just brush it off saying he wanted to see people’s reaction over the drinks and he even made a few adjustments in the music choices that were being played.

But deep down, he was really enjoying seeing Y/N in her element as she kept pressing the shutter.

As she finished another day of photos, she placed the camera strap around her neck, ready to pick up her equipment. Secretly she was looking forward to see certain Shelby brother around.

“Ready to go Miss Y/LN?” A deep voice called.

Y/N turned around to find Tommy in one of the booths.

He stood up slowly, giving her this predator vibe and walked towards the bar, leaving her speechless for an instant.

“Sorry to ask you this, but… would you mind if I take your portrait?”

He never posed for pictures, but there was something about her that made him say yes to anything she asked. So he listened to her guidance and leaning against the bar, he looked at something in the opposite wall.

“Hold it for me…”

Click.

She didn’t even use the extra light on him, his cheekbones caught it effortlessly, and his eyes… she wanted to make a whole photoshoot for them.

“Yeah, I gotta start editing tonight to put together the work and hand you guys the final version.”

“So you’ll be done with the project?” He asked without hiding the disappointment in his voice, but soon he cleared his throat.

The hostess walked past him, trying to get his attention, but his eyes were fixed on Y/N’s.

“Is there anything you might need to carry on?”

She bit her lip.

“Actually yes, I’d like to get a few shoots of the place without customers, if that’s possible.”

She saw him produce a smile and a nod. “Stop by tomorrow at eleven o’clock before the doors are open to the public.”

“I really appreciate it.” She sighed and threw a quick glance at the place. “The design and vibe makes me go back in time to one of those pubs from back in the day.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to achieve.” Tommy smiled proudly dragging his eyes around the room.

“Well you have good luck, I’m here to capture the beauty of this place and immortalize so more people can know about it.”

“A woman with a strong drive and passion I reckon?” He guessed giving her a nod in approval.

“Photography is one of the rare tools that help us remember someone or something forever.”

She made him remember an ancient photograph he kept of his mother as the most precious treasure he possessed. It was a bit damaged on the edges and the paper was so old and fragile but it still held such sentimental value.

That was all he got left of her.

Sensing she touched a sensitive matter she excused herself to continue photographing the place while he was watching her every move intensely. Canceling the original plans he had for some booty call.

***

Y/N cursed herself for not hiring an assistant for the day to help with the lights, computer and camera, but these days it was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Luckily she wouldn’t be photographing people as they were harder to deal with, barely paid attention to the clothing suggestions she’d made or taking any instructions in general.

“Need a hand with that?” A husky voice called from behind her back, she had been so focused on planning to how get everything in just one round to avoid the stairs twice that she never noticed Tommy had been watching her.

“Hmm…” a blush covered her completely, it was impossible to not being smitten by his presence. “I don’t wanna bother you.”

“None of that, gimme.” He mumbled with the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” She smiled but soon it was replaced by a gasp when he took the laptop case and lights from her, his hands covered in leather gloves holding the equipment as it weighed nothing.

Climbing the stairs, Tommy couldn’t stop himself from looking at her bum swaying from side to side as she took the steps, that sweet little thing had a huge impact on him.

“You can leave it here, I’ll set up the lights, thanks again.”

“My pleasure, if you need anything just shout.”

She saw him disappear upstairs and decided to shake her head a little because his cologne was too masculine that it was even intoxicating and her heart was beating so fast.

The place offered her a million different perspectives to shoot, she loved catching the lights of the vintage chandeliers, the details on the booths were absolutely gorgeous, the bar, she was in love with every touch she discovered through her camera lenses.

Adjusting the height of the tripod, she got a fabulous shoot of the private area with comfortable couches, the oil lamp was a lovely detail that captivated her.

Time flew, she got carried away with the endless images she was capturing.

With a content sigh, she pressed the shutter one more time, to immortalize part of the table with a Reserved sign, the oil lamp blurred, but the final shoot looked fantastic.

Two things happened simultaneously; her stomach protested for the cup of coffee and the granola bar she eat for breakfast and Tommy emerged from the kitchen.

“Not to hurry you or anything, but are you done there?” Tommy’s voice startled her, she noticed he wasn’t wearing the suit jacket, he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, showing his forearms.

“Yeah, got everything I wanted.” She answered adding a lovely smile.

“Good, now.. this way.” He motioned her to follow him and held the door open. “Pictures here are forbidden just a little FYI, specially because you’re about to taste a piece of heaven.”

That’s when she realized he had been working in the kitchen all this time.

“Oh! That sounds promising.”

“It is.” He reassured her. “But I need your honest opinion though.”

Tommy turned around to face the grill again, pressing the sandwich.

“Finn told me he saw you taking photos of a building and asked you to do a shooting for us.”

Y/N studied his back, broad shoulders, the sides and back of his head was shaved sharply, intimidating posture. Yet somehow it was a huge contrast while he was enjoying preparing the food.

“Yes, it was a new condo and I had already done the interior photos, so he photobombed one of my shoots.”

“That’s such a Finn thing to do.” Tommy chuckled. “But I’m glad he did, so now you’re taking care of our media.”

Placing a plate in front of her, he added a separate bowl full of French fries. Her mouth was watering so bad.

“You’re not going to complain about the calories, are you?”

Closing her eyes at the taste, she ran her tongue over her lower lip to remove the crumbs. To Tommy it was a simple gesture that had a different -sexual- effect on him.

“You were right, this is heaven.”

Y/N took a bite of the brisket sandwich and a small satisfied groan escaped her mouth.

“I didn’t see this on the menu last time I was here. It’s so good!”

Tommy cleared his throat while resting his palms on the industrial island.

“That’s because it’s not… yet.” He admitted cutting a piece of the sandwich to eat it. “Been trying to decide if it’s a good addition or not.”

“You definitely have to, it’s amazing!”

There was something about her that pushed him to do this. He thought she could see something else in everything judging by the way she took photographs, to her it wasn’t just a vintage oil lamp, it was the main focus of the shooting.

“Why are you doubting?” She called, making Tommy pull out from his daydream.

“I don’t know if people will like it.”

She noticed the doubt in his eyes and his eyes flashing for a second.

“This is Michelin worth it, trust me.” She admitted taking the rest of the brisket with a fork. “It’s perfect.”

“If it fails you’re the one to blame eh?” He smiled, aching for a cigarette, but it was forbidden in the kitchen.

“I’m sure it will be a success!”

Tommy felt grateful for the encouragement, cooking had been once of his hidden passions and he realized showing it to her could only be because she was special.

“I could bet you anything it’ll get a high demand… if I could I’d have this everyday.”

He wondered if she was always trying to please and compliment people with her comments or if it was out of pity, but after seeing her interacting with the staff, he knew this was a natural and genuine thing for her.

“Well you could if you wanted, love.” He arched one of his eyebrows seductively that made her blush immediately.

Reaching the desire effect, he added a wink.

She felt both excited and scared, because of the meaning behind his words, what he was implying it wasn’t something to take slightly and the alarm started ringing inside her head.

“Guess you say that to every woman that sits in front of you.” She knew how men like him acted all the time.

Tommy was about to answer that no, as a matter of fact he had never cooked for another women. This was a first time for him and he wasn’t even completely aware of what made him do that, he just felt the urge to be close to her.

But he wasn’t able to because Arthur stormed in, interrupting the moment.

Tilting his head, he stared at the crumbs on the plate, to the girl and then to his brother. Confusion written all over his face, he wanted to ask why the hell he ordered the pub to be open later, but judging by Tommy’s eyes, he decided to not do it.

“Oh, sorry about the interruption, brotha.” he made a small reverence and pointed at the door to disappear, but it was enough to break the moment.

“Actually I’ve to go and do some editing, thank you for lunch.” Y/N stammered, giving Tommy a small look back, taking that as her opportunity to leave. A heavy ache pressing her chest.

Arthur looked at his brother from the corner of his eyes. “Wha-?”

“What the hell are you doing here? Thought you had to be out of the city.” Tommy barked, far too annoyed now. “You better keep this to yourself if you want to be on one piece for the holidays.” Tommy warned with an accusing finger before leaving the kitchen.

If someone knew him, it was Arthur. And deep down, Tommy knew all of his effort it wouldn’t go unnoticed by his brother and the huge meaning this had.

“I was just going to say that she’s a fine gurl.” Arthur whispered, hands up in surrender. “And that I think you found the one.”

***

“Tommy,” Lizzie poked her head inside his office after knocking the door, he had been starting absently at his screen, “the photographer is here.”

Tommy felt his stomach making a sharp turn at the announcement. He felt torn between wanting to see her one more time and feeling rejected that one time he decided to cook for her.

“Ask Finn to handle that matter.”

Lizzie gave him a deep frown, these past days he was very adamant to be informed once she arrived. “He’s busy with something else.”

“Then ask Arthur. Or take care of it yourself.” Turning off his laptop, Tommy took his wallet and keys to walk out of his office, taking the stairs quickly he rushed past the hall and then the bar, eyeing Y/N siting close to the door.

She went there with two objectives that day, first present her final work to the Shelby brothers and last but not least, find a moment to talk to Tommy about what happened in the kitchen the other day, she had been terrified by the intimate moment they shared over him cooking that delicious sandwich for her, she wanted to explain that she had been hurt in the past and over therapy she had been able to slowly work things around, but the constant fear was in the back of her mind.

He wasn’t going to admit out loud to anyone that the photographer had been on his mind ever since he met her. There was something about her that caught his attention, the way she smiled or the way she saw things through the lenses of her camera.

But she also hurt his fragile ego by rejecting him. So when he was close for her to listen, he pretended to get a phone call. “Yeah Mandy, I’m on my way sweetheart.”

He never noticed the long look she gave him, because if he had, he’d have noticed the way her heart broke into million pieces by listening to his words. So she decided to let him go that day.

And somehow that’s exactly how life is, it’s messy, it goes badly and you meet the right person at the wrong time.

****

Y/N nerves started growing with every minute passing at the auction. She decided to donate one of her photographs to raise funds for women in need at a local charity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it would sell or not.

“You never told me what happened with that Shelly boy.” Flor asked casually as she started eyeing the entrees.

She wanted to get one of each, but her stomach was completely closed and the butterflies in her tummy were out of control.

“It’s Shelby… and nothing happened.” Y/N remembered the photographs she took of The Tavern a couple of months ago now.

“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself!” Flor hissed. “What happened?”

“Look, he had trouble written all over his face, maybe it was for the best.” Y/N brushed it off, or she tried to at least.

“And you let him go why exactly?” Her friend pressed, waving at someone.

“I got scared because he was too much, he was… never mind.” Her voice trailed off. “The auction is about to start, we should move.”

But Flor had a different idea, so she stopped her friend by the arm. “You actually like him! And don’t even try to lie to me.”

“It doesn’t matter how, he’s probably busy with Mindy, Randy… whatever.”

“Maybe it’s not too late… but you gotta stop doing this to yourself, you deserve to be happy.”

“I was still healing and I literally stormed out, he probably doesn’t even remember my name. He just flirted to busy himself.”

Flor shook her head in disbelief. Y/N got the chance to be happy and she decided to hide in the dark too afraid for it to be a reality.

But they were both oblivious that across the gallery, there he was, the man himself staring at Y/N with his eyes fixed on her every move. Realizing that his memory hadn’t made a mistake of remembering her soft features, or the dimples on her cheeks, neither the sparkle of her eyes. As much as he tried, it was impossible to forget about her.

“Tom, it turns out Y/N listed a photograph for the auction.” Arthur informed him in a low voice, he had just his brother to investigate as soon as he found her among the people gathered for the event. She looked more beautiful than he remembered and there it was again, the same force that had been pulling him towards her from the moment they met.

“Buy it.” He stretched his neck to find her walking around, the sequins of her black dress catching the light.

It didn’t matter how much time had passed, there hadn’t been a day or night where he didn’t end up thinking about her, she was stuck in his mind.

“But it’s-”

“Arthur,” Tommy pointed at his brother in a warning tone. “Buy the photograph, I don’t want anyone else getting it.”

“Man you should try this…” John shoved something into his mouth and as a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks, he got a glass of champagne.

“John, I need you to-”

“What the hell are you doin ‘ere?” Alfie’s voice interrupted them.

Arthur found him midway with a huge grin on his face.

“They started whining about the price it might reach, so I doubled the amount.”

“Good.”

And in that very moment he saw someone approaching Y/N’s piece to place a card that could be read as SOLD and a woman walked towards Y/N to let her know her photograph had been bought by someone anonymously. And he’d pay an absurd amount of money anytime to see her reaction again. The shock of her face, her hand flying to her mouth, the small jumps she was making… she looked at the woman next to her and asked her to pinch her arm.

“I thought you’d only send the donation over, mate.” Alfie joined them, giving the Shelby brothers a long look, one of his hands rubbing absently his beard.

“What’s the fun in that Alfie?” Tommy answered, giving Y/N one more look. “Actually I just bought a photograph.”

“You can’t do that, there’s an auction!”

Arthur showed him the cheque he just signed off, enjoying the annoyance in his face, but Alfie’s eyes were fixed somewhere else, Tommy realized that he was looking at the woman standing next to Y/N.

His smile grew even bigger in that moment.

“Tell me this is real!” Y/N squealed squeezing her friends arm.

Turning her head around, and her eyes crossed with Tommy’s, who raised his glass at her. Embarrassment flashed through her eyes, so she took a small step towards him, holding his gaze at all times.

An apology would be a first step.

“You’ve to introduce me to that bearded man.” Flor whispered behind her back, making Y/N chuckle.

As the small group reunited, Y/N felt a blush covering her face.

“Just heard your photography sold, congratulations.” Tommy announced.

“It’s a night full of surprises,” she admitted and then looked at Alfie. “Mr. Solomons, I want to thank you for the opportunity to join the auction.”

“It’s my pleasure dove, now I don’t think we’ve been introduced… Alfie Solomons.” He extended his hand at Flor, whose smile couldn’t be bigger.

And before anyone could react, the pair moved away from the group.

“Y/N and her friend should be present at the next business meeting with Alfie.” Arthur pointed out, then noticing that his brother and Y/N were staring at each other, he waved at John. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“If he makes more brisket let us know!” John shouted over his shoulder.

Tommy rolled his eyes at the comment, but a chuckle escaped his lips.

“I hope you won’t run off this time around.” He raised his eyebrows, half joking, half serious.

A veil of embarrassment and shame covered her. “I’m sorry about that…” she began to explain Tommy how after realizing how attracted she felt towards him, she didn’t knew how to handle her feelings and how much she regretted it, that’s why she came back to try to explain him that, but well, things took another turn.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Tommy assured her as they moved towards the balcony.

“So… shall we start again?” She asked with hope sparkling in her eyes, just like the stars in the background. He nodded.

“On one condition.”

“Anything.” She agreed looking from his eyes to his lips.

“Over a brisket sandwich?”

Y/N nodded, the smile reaching her eyes.

He could take her to any restaurant in the city, the best place out there, but to her seeing him cooking, it mean a lot more than words could explain. And his brisket was to die for.

Finally leaving her fears behind, she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands sneaked around her waist, lips connecting in a kiss they both had been longing since the first time they met.

Mouths molding perfectly against each other, it felt much better than they imagined.

After a moment, they pulled apart, but remained close with a satisfied look in their eyes.

“Good because I was going to call you anyways, I need a photographer for my son’s birthday party.” Tommy explained and captured her lips once more, but now, it was the right moment to start over… and everything thanks to a Photoshoot session.

****

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, your feedback means the world to me ✨🥰xx

Photo credits to The Tavern@ig

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219

Master list

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x y/n #modern!tommy shelby #modern peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine

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vilavi-2 · 9 months

Text

Day 2: LoA Damian x Hero Raven

Damiraeweek 2023 @damirae-week

I'm working on a continuation of my Nanda Parbat story from Chap 23 of Feather Collection. I've still got a lot to get through, but here's a sneak peek! (sorry it's a lil rough)

It’s the middle of Raven’s second winter in Nanda Parbat, just as fiercely cold and cruel as the first. With the Himalayas locked in an icy grip, most stewards and soldiers have been reassigned to warmer, more productive posts. Only a token force of loyal elites remains at the compound to keep the elemental damage at bay and protect it from anyone foolish enough to brave the snowed-in passes, icy climbs, and whiteout stormy skies. And should all those defenses fail, it would only bring them face-to-face with Ra’s and Qalb al Ghul, ready to defend their seat of power.

It’s the best winter of his life, Damian decides, pale green eyes locked implacably on hers. Raven narrows her own back at him before dropping them to the fan of playing cards in her hands. She bites her lower lip thoughtfully, and he can feel the slight tap of her foot next to his thigh. She has so many tells, it’s hard to pick his favorite. Still, he doesn’t let his gaze wander to appreciate the bare legs on either side of him, or the flash of Raven’s chest and collar through the loosened pankou knots of her blouse. He instead sits cross legged in front of her with deliberate stillness until she plucks two cards from her hand and lays them face down on the mattress.

“Two,” she says with casual confidence. Damian deals them to her obligingly, smirking at the victorious glint in her eyes when she studies her new hand. It’s not that Raven is a bad liar, or easy to read. It’s that it never even occurs to her to hide from him anymore. As it should be, beloved. Damian looks at his own cards, and exchanges three of them, face devoid of expression as he returns to scrutinizing her.

“Well?”

“I’m in,” Raven replies in that same confident tone. “Robe.”

His lips tick up slightly and Raven betrays a slight hesitation, instantly looking back at her cards as if to make sure she saw them right.

“Call. Shirt.” He motions to her to show her hand and she bites her lip again before slowly turning them around. A flush of diamonds. Damian gives an approving nod. “That’s good,” he tells her. But judging from her light frown and the accusation in her violaceous eyes, she knows she’s beat. He shows her his hand, finally allowing himself a victorious smirk. Full House. “But not good enough.”

Raven’s glaring — pouting, really — but she still undoes the knots down her front and lets him push the garment off her shoulders. Only four rounds in and she’s down to her bra and underwear. Damian hasn’t even gotten his robe off yet.

"How did I let you talk me into this?" she grumbles, hugging her chest and rubbing her arms. A hearth and several well-fed braziers keep the worst of the cold out, but her skin is still breaking out in gooseflesh, disrobed as she is. Raven’s practically sitting in his lap already, so it’s easy to pull her the rest of the way, settling her against his chest and curling both arms hard around her. She burrows into him, as she always does.

“I have no idea why you agreed,” Damian answers, smiling to himself. “You have no aptitude for games, ya amar.” She grumbles an incoherent, indignant sound. He drops a kiss on her bare shoulder.

Nanda Parbat is on winter rations. Rice and millet, salted meat, pickled vegetables. None of her precious teas or anything resembling a delicacy has been able to get through in months. There’s a few cases of amber wine held in reserve to help prevent anyone up here from getting too bored or stir crazy. Not anyone’s idea of a good time.

Except that Raven's here, with him, and unlike last winter when they were still bound in secrecy Damian doesn't have to worry about a future where she might not be. Her crown hangs on one of their bedposts, glinting in affirmation of that fact.

Definitely the best winter of my life, he thinks.

#damirae #demonbirds #damian wayne #raven dc #damirae week 2023 #raven x damian #yes I kinda ripped off that scene from In Time

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rileyglas · 6 days

Text

The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~ (Sneak Peek)

Out here kicking my feet like Alastor - Got part 7 queued for Friday then MAYBE part 8 next week (if ya'll like it enough) 💜 Need to catch up? Masterlist

The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”

Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.

You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.

“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.

“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.

Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.

For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.

You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.

Sooo now what?

After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.

“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?

“Is – is this your office, sir?”

He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”

You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.

He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.

“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”

Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”

His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”

“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #radio demon #lucifer x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #fanfic #sneak peek #writers on tumblr #angst #slow burn

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authorluvgxbby · 1 year

Note

HII! I hope you’re taking care of yourself :) I wanted to request TR boys sneaking in your room at 3am to wake us up and do some stupid stuff with them but they end up confessing afterwards. If not then that’s totally okay have a nice day/night!!

I Just Wanna Be Yours

Includes: Kazutora, Hanma, Ran

Note: I recommend playing I Wanna Be Yours By Arctic Monkeys for a better experience! Enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of weed, mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption (not underaged drinking), slight suggestive teasing in Kazutora's part. Rest is fluff.

Kazutora

Usually every other teenager would jump at the chance to sneak out in the middle of the night to do god knows what unholy things as a result of them surely getting grounded for life by nagging parents. But, you were different.

Unlike your friends who always stayed out, doing their own thing, you decided to spend your weekend enjoying time to yourself while relishing in the joy of getting a full eight hours of sleep before transitioning back to dealing with your stressful weekday routine of high school. Your mom was out of town working, so there wasn’t any point in sneaking out. Besides, you preferred staying home compared to running the streets.

You enjoyed the time alone and getting a good night’s rest was a bonus!

You had already freshened up and changed into a comfortable set of pajamas. Slipping into the warmth of your comforter and numerous pillows, you sighed in content.

There was nothing better than getting ready for bed after relaxing on a Saturday.

Everything was just perfect. The room was cool, your bed was warm to perfection, and your eyes were already droopy, ready to be closed for rest. Nothing could prevent you from sleeping through the night. The moment your head made contact with your pillow, you were out like a light.

But of course, all good things must come to an end.

It seemed as if you hadn’t fallen asleep at all when you were suddenly startled by the sound of what seemed to be small pebbles knocking against your window.

Your eyes flew open at the small pangs against the glass. You quickly sat up, heart beating partially fast at the sudden disturbance. You glance at the window, and then to your nightstand where your digital clock sat. Squinting, you briefly check the time that glowed across the small screen: 3 A.M.

Who on earth could be up at three in the morning throwing rocks at my window??

You certainly didn’t know. Anyone who knew you knew better than to disturb you on your weekends.

Once again, the pang of rocks against your window rang in your ears.

Groaning, you rubbed your temples.

“This is ridiculous…” you muttered, already annoyed at the disruption of your precious sleep.

Reluctantly, you slipped out of bed and quietly padded over to the window, determined to find out who could possibly be disrupting your sleep at this ungodly hour.

Unlocking your window, you slide it up, and peek your head out.

“Pssst! y/n!,” a familiar voice whispers from below.

Cocking a brow, you look down, only to be met with a pair of golden eyes and a familiar head of blonde and black locks.

“Kazutora? I-Is that you?” you replied in the same hushed tone.

“Quick! Throw down the rope will ya?”

He must be joking.

“Go to bed!” you deadpanned.

His eyes were wide, “W-what? Please! It’s cold!”

You sighed tiredly, glancing back inside your room and back to your pleading friend.

“Wait there!”

He smiles in reply, nodding as he waits for you to throw down his entrance to your window.

Searching your closet, you found an old knot of sheets you had made into a rope. After all, this wasn’t the first time Kazutora has shown up to your window asking to be let in. However, it was the first he’s ever come unannounced. He knew better, so why not warn you ahead of time?

You tie one of the ends to your bedpost and throw the rest of it down. Afterwards, you settle yourself on the edge of the bed that faces the window. Patiently, you waited for Kazutora to climb through, which didn’t take very long.

Less than five minutes later, he managed to get himself halfway through. Soon he’s slumped against the floor, grinning like a dork at you.

Frowning, you crossed your arms.

“Don’t tell me you're mad at me for waking you up?” he quipped.

“Kazutora…it’s too late to be pulling stunts like this. We’re not little kids anymore.” you huff, giving him a pointed look.

His grin staggers, flashing a guilty grimace. “I-I know, it’s just…I didn’t have any plans so I was hoping we’d go on–I don’t know–a little adventure,” he pauses, glancing back at you and then shooting his gaze at the ground, “like we used to…” he sighs.

Your harsh stare softens and your shoulders relax.

“If you wanted to hang out, you could’ve said something,” I whispered.

He perks up, hopeful eyes captured by your own. There’s a pause, a quick silence.

“You know I won’t say ‘no’ to you Kazutora.” You breathe out.

There’s more silence between you two, and at the moment, you didn’t even care that it was late and you were losing sleep. You didn’t want him to leave, but it was hard to really sit in the same room with him right now. It was tense, and neither of you dared to speak up.

There’s a sudden shift in weight next to you on the bed, looking back up, you turn to the side, meeting your friend’s slightly flushed face.

“Hey, um,” he clears his throat, “that…was a lie.”

Your brows furrowed. “Hm? What do you mean ‘tora?”

Situating himself more comfortably on your bed, he folds his arms, holding your curious gaze.

“The truth is…I just…I wanted to be with you. I-I missed you, I guess.”

You blinked a few times, processing his words carefully so as to not mistaken his intentions. But, once it clicked what was going on, it was pretty clear to you as to what the poor boy was trying to say. So far, he was as red as a tomato, and it killed you at how cute he looked. You got the hint, but you would rather hear it from him.

“What’s that mean?” you asked coyly, leaning in towards him with a grin. You dropped your hands to your sides, awaiting a response from the struggling juvenile.

He takes a shaky breath, swallowing thickly as he considers his next words.

“I just…I couldn’t stop thinking about you s’all…” he mumbles.

Clicking your tongue, you get on all fours, slowly crawling towards Kazutora until he’s backed up and eventually trapped between you and the mattress.

“Kazutora, do you…like me?” you teased.

He nods, his head hazy and spinning from the close proximity. “I-I do!”

After the small confirmation, you were satisfied, immediately collapsing on top of him and snuggling into his chest.

“Good. ‘Cuz, I like you too!”

Groaning, he envelopes you in a warm embrace, returning the small ounce of affection.

“W-why didn’t you say something sooner then?!” he whines.

“Because you're cute when you’re nervous!” You laughed airly.

For the rest of the night, he stayed with you, falling into a deep sleep in the comforts of your warm bed.

Hanma

There wasn’t a night that went by that Hanma didn’t appear from your bedroom window. He was always welcome to use the front door. You even went as far as to give him an extra key to your apartment.

However, according to your manic friend, using the door “wasn’t as welcoming” compared to using your window as an entrance. Either way, you didn’t mind Hanma’s company or his random appearances.

It was comforting in a way. It was like a fresh touch of color to your daily plain routine.

Tonight was exactly the same.

Hanma had recently texted you not too long ago, saying he’d drop by to hang out. Per usual, you had opened your apartment’s window, waiting for Hanma to climb down the apartment balcony staircase.

From there, you would wait in your bed with a book in hand as you waited for Hanma.

Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the wall. Turning your attention from your reading, you meet with the familiar wicked smile of your awaited guest.

“Hey there sweetcakes. Missed me?”

Rolling your eyes, you bookmark your page and place the book on your nightstand.

“Hardly.” you lied.

Hanma scoffs, climbing through the opening of your window with a noticeably big plastic bag in hand.

Tilting your head slightly to the side, you eye the items in the bag with a questioning stare.

“What's in the bag?”

“Hm? This?”

He grins, proudly raising the bag in his left hand as if he had just found gold, “I’d thought we would make some weed brownies and try ‘em!”

“W-weed WHAT?!” you choked, baffled at how calm he was at the sudden proposal of doing something very much illegal.

He cocks a brow, “Hm? What? You don’t like brownies?” He questioned thoughtfully.

You were ready to smack him upside the head and scold his ass right on the spot, but you caught yourself and recollected your composure before losing your cool.

“Hanma…it’s not normal for ordinary people to spend the night making weed brownies.” you sighed, smoothing the lines on your forehead.

“Where the hell did you even get the weed?”

“I know a friend,” he simply shrugs, walking over to you and casually situating himself next to you on your bed.

Both of you rested against the headboard of the bed, enjoying each other’s company in the quiet with nothing but the rambunctious sound of the ongoing city of Kabukicho filling the gap between the two of you.

“Have you ever made a weed brownie before?” you chimed, staring at the chipped ceiling of your small apartment.

“Yeah, plenty of times.” he muffledly replied, lighting the cigarette that rested between his lips.

“Let’s make some tomorrow.”

He gently blows a puff of smoke, smirking as he turns his head to you, “Sure thing Sweets.”

You chuckle at his ridiculous pet name, while a warmth spreads across your chest, rising to your cheeks.

“Hey…” he pipes up, turning your gaze towards his own. “I’ve, um–been meaning to tell you somethin’.”

“What’s that?” you asked warily, a small grin gracing your tired features.

“...I really like you y/n.” he sighs, once again exhaling a large cloud of smoke from his thin lips.

You knit your brows together, eyes searching his expression for any foul play.

“Hanma…” He turns his gaze back to you, “did you eat a weed brownie before coming here?”

He flicks your forehead.

“Ouch! Hey!” you rub your forehead while using your other free hand to swat his shoulder.

“That’s for asking dumb shit. Of course I didn’t.” he scoffs, mildly glaring at you.

You huff, settling down in your spot as you process his sudden confession.

“But, why?”

“Hm?” he furrows his brows, taking small puffs of his cigarette before resting it between his fingers. “Why what?”

“Why do you like me?”

There’s a heavy silence weighing down on the two of you. Hanma stares at you for a little longer, before turning his attention to the blank, dull walls of the room.

“I like you because you're different.”

You return to face him with your own stare.

“Different, how?”

He smirks and returns your fixated gaze, “Give me a chance and you'll see~” he winks. “You won’t regret it.”

You did give him a chance. And you never regretted it at all.

Ran

You weren’t expecting a visit from Ran. Especially through the window of your run down apartment building.

You just came back from taking a double shift from work. It was well past 2 in the morning and all you wanted to do was crash for the night.

Trudging through your apartment, you kick off your shoes and sling your bag on the couch.

You make your way over to the fridge where you kept a bottle of wine. Grabbing the bottle you take it with you into your bedroom.

Once you close the door behind you, you turn around and are met with a familiar lanky figure in your bed.

“Oh, great your home.” Ran casually exclaims as he thumbs through a random book from your shelf.

He glances at you and then down to the wine bottle in your hand. Cocking a brow, he folds his arms and says, “Rough night?”

“Yeah,” you sigh dejectedly, trudging over to his spot and settling next to him in the bed.

“Mind if you share that?” he asked, nudging his elbow gently to your side with a tired smile.

You hum, handing over the bottle while you stare at the static TV screen. “Go ahead.”

He gently grasps the bottle, easily unscrewing the cap and downing a good mouthful of the bitter liquid before handing it back to you.

“You should seriously get that thing fixed.”

“I don’t mind the static…” you wearily say, downing your own mouthfuls of the harsh liquor.

“You had a rough night yourself?” you asked, looking over to him to study his features more closely. He’s usually covered in cuts and bruises, sometimes after getting into another brawl. Tonight was just that.

Ran’s once porcelain, smooth skin was now littered with small cuts and a few bruises. Nothing major to damage the face. You could even go so far as saying he looked more handsome when he was a little roughed up. Of course, you would never admit it out loud. He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“You could say that.” he chuckles, turning his attention to the static of the TV.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked.

“...would it make me feel better?”

“You tell me.”

He stays quiet for a moment, shaking his head.

“I got into a fight.”

“Well duh, I already know that dummy.” you sigh, pinching your bruised cheek.

“Ow, so mean.” he pouts, turning to face you again.

You suppress the smile creeping on your lips and press them into a firm line.

“Why did you start a fight?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m the one who picked a fight first.”

You give him a pointed look, ignoring the lousy answer. Your eyes narrow as you press for the truth.

“Ran.”

Now it was his turn to sigh. “Ok, so I did start it first, so what?” he huffs, staring back at the TV.

Your gaze softens at his hardened tone. You gently take his hand and squeeze down gently.

“Why?” you voiced softly.

Once again he goes quiet, attempting to find the proper answer to your persistent questions. When he does, he doesn’t look at you, he just continues to stare at the static screen of the TV.

“Because they mocked the woman I care about the most and I’d be damned if I didn’t teach them a lesson about bad-mouthing you.” he muttered irritably, his hand tightening around your own.

You were shocked, not just by the subtle confession, but also by his angered expression.

For the first time, you saw Ran Haitani angry with someone else besides his little brother. And deep down, it touched you knowing that he cared.

Smiling, you wrap his arm around your shoulders, scooting closer to him and pulling the covers over the both of you.

“That’s fine with me.” you whispered against him.

"Really?" he whispers back.

You hummed," Yeah. I'll let it slide this time. But afterwards, not more pointless fighting."

He smirks.

"Yes Ma'am."

For the rest of the night, the two of you sat in each other’s company, eventually falling asleep in a warm embrace.

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