#there's just something so personal about the way he serves the food by wrapping his arms (tenticals?) around eddie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pearlywritings · 1 year

Text

Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife.

pairings: Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, a little bit of bullying, a bit of unwelcome drunk flirting, characters are whipped for their wives

word count: 5.4k+ words

a/n: part 2 can be read here!

Alhaitham

Your husband is… Truly something. Honestly, that's the best way to describe this epitome of nonchalance, smugness and sarcasm, sprinkled with sharp glares and served with a smartass sauce. No one would be able to swallow such a nasty pill, yet you somehow managed. But that's what doctors say, right? The medicine might be bitter, but it'll get better. And it did.

Hard to believe, but the Akademiya's Scribe is enamored by you - it took time to realize, many interactions for him to see that you do not rise annoyance in him, multiple times sharing the eye contact and hundreds of hours being your interlocutor to cognize the beauty of you, but when he fell - he fell hard, and the realization didn't make him feel repulsed. On the contrary, it brought him inexplicable peace, and, being an efficient and straightforward man he is, Alhaitham faced you the very next day and asked out on a date.

The rest is history. You dated, you moved in, you got married - the sequence your husband perfected in its briefness to be over with quickly anytime his colleagues or anyone asked about you and your relationship. You, of course, would give a more detailed summary to your friends, speaking of him so tenderly, always witnessing the same reaction - disbelief. And you get it where they come from - after all, your partner is known to not be the most cordial person. He prefers it that way though - he is bothered much less and can dedicate that free time to his lovely wife.

He makes it a point to not leave the house unnecessarily early, just exactly enough to get to his office on time, and same with finishing his work, bluntly rejecting anyone who tries to approach him with stuff. This way he doesn’t waste a second with you, quite on contrary, sometimes a couple of hours can be added, if you visit him during the afternoon to go grab lunch together, or enjoy the one you brought with you, and then rest somewhere in a private spot with your head on his shoulder, holding a bigger hand that is resting on your thigh, while his other one is occupied with a book. This is enough to power you both up to push through the rest of the day, and Alhaitham really appreciates it, never failing to give you a kiss on the lips and murmuring the soft words of reassurance, before parting your ways till the evening.

Today is one of those days when you find yourself in the House of Daena with a home-cooked lunch neatly wrapped and warm in your hands. A couple of librarians greet you on the way, knowing perfectly well who you are, and you smile at them. One older woman, who’s always been fond of your character, informs you that Alhaitham hasn’t left the Grand Sage’s office since the moment he arrived, and you thank her for going out of her way to reassure you that you will not need to search for him.

There’s another exchange of greetings at the bottom of an elevator and just seconds later you start ascending to the above of the huge library. The quiet whirling of mechanisms is calming and you hum softly to yourself, imagining that tender look in those light turquoise eyes, a rare shine in orange-ringed yellow pupils and a slight pull of thin lips upon seeing your figure and catching a whiff of food you brought. A content sigh escapes your chest and you prepare to soon step off the huge round platform.

But instead of catching a glimpse of your husband, you are met with sharp black eyes, staring at you and a scowl present on the face of a person you don't believe you've seen before, at least not long enough to remember. You blink in surprise, eyes darting to look at the man from head to toe - he is wearing the Akademiya’s robes, but there is no indicator to which Darshan he belongs to. A Matra perhaps? But you are used to seeing a completely different face of a scholar Alhaitham appointed as his secretary for the period of time he’d fulfill the role of an Acting Grand Sage. Panah has soft brown eyes, always nodding to you in a greeting and leaving upon your arrival if it is lunch time and his boss doesn’t instruct him to stay and carry on with his job, not minding you two.

This one practically glares at you, arms crossed and posture intimidating. You simply tilt your head in question, waiting for him to say something.

“Who allowed you to enter?”

The tone of his voice is pretty rude, and the gruff voice doesn't add grace to it. You are not one to judge someone by their looks - your husband is the proof of that, so you decide to brush it off and simply answer.

"Shohre of course, as usual."

“...as usual?” His brows furrow, and you get even more confused with the question. Is your husband having some kind of an impromptu inspection? He didn’t tell you anything about it in the morning, and since the Akasha got turned off, there is no simple way to warn you of it.

"Is Alhaitham holding any meeting, perhaps?" You try, knowing it's absurd since he doesn't love his sweet lunch time being interrupted, but right now it's hard to find an explanation for this hostile-acting man's actions.

"You have so little respect for the Acting Great Sage?"

This time the booming edge in his words makes an echo in a pretty vast space and almost makes you flinch. The situation is escalating pretty quickly.

"Sir, I don't know who you are, but I do not believe I ever deserved such treatment from you. Would you be so kind to explain what's going on or at least let me see the Acting Great Sage-"

That must've sounded kind of sarcastic, because the man looks like he is ready to fume akin to a kettle.

"Who even are you!? Who do you think you are? Demanding a meeting like that - you must know his schedule is packed, so don't you assume that your pretty face would get you through-"

"Jahan, what is going on?" The "Jahan" shuts instantly upon hearing a deep, dripping with authority voice behind him. Your face instantly brightens when you spot the tall man approaching you two with his arms crossed and the most nonchalant expression etched in his features.

“We have an intruder, Sir.”

What in the Archon’s name- This is becoming ridiculous.

"An intruder?" He lifts his brow and glances at you, gaze lingering just for a few seconds longer. Then it returns to his subordinate. "I don't see one here."

"This woman," you move just in time not to have his index finger directly point you right in your face, "came here without prior appointment, not stating her purpose, not even stating her name!"

"Is that so?" You almost snort at how little Alhaitham cares for what this man has for an explanation, instead moving directly to you and taking a heavy lunch boxes from your hands, allowing your shoulders and arms to drop in relief.

“Her name is of no matter. All you need to know is that she is my wife.”

The room falls silent. The man stares at his boss with eyes so wide, you worry they’d pop out of his sockets. Your husband though doesn’t show any reaction to the stunned look on the man’s face, balancing all the containers in one hand, offering you the other, which you take with a smile.

"S-she what?"

"My wife. And she, along with the necessary descriptions, is literally the only person on the list of the people who are free to come and leave whenever. On the list Panah passed to you along with other instructions before taking his sick leave. Did you even skip through those?"

The tone of your husband is cold with a mocking edge, rubbing his subordinate’s incompetence in his face, and you don't need to look at the man to sense his panic.

"I-I, no of course I thoroughly looked through every single one, but I do not remember such paper, it must've been lost along the process-"

"It doesn't matter. Now you are aware. But there is one more thing you need to learn about my wife visiting."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You leave the moment she enters."

There is a momentary pause (you know Alhaitham is rolling his eyes inwardly at how slowly the notion seems to reach him), before Jahan snaps out of his stupor, slightly bows, mumbling something and quickly walks off to the elevator.

Not even waiting for the mechanism to start, your husband tugs on your hand and you take the hint, following him to the sofas and a table.

"What an imbecile," is murmured in annoyance and you finally chuckle, covering your mouth with a hand.

Your husband is truly something, but one thing is absolutely certain - his wife is the only person that really worths his nerves and time.

Ayato

Kamisato Ayato is a character of many admirable traits and worth-mentioning accomplishments, a great leader, an amazing big brother, a boss held in high regard, and a loving husband of three years to you. This last, but not the least, is Commissioner's favorite, and he makes sure to show it every opportunity present in his individual mischievous way.

You know he gets away with a lot of things, and for numerous reasons, ranging from being the head of the Yashiro Commission, to him being pretty unknown by face among the commoners due to Ayaka handling all the public affairs. This one in particular is harmless, but there is that little thing which drives you up the wall - he does it only when you are present, leaving you very flustered and with a fast beating heart.

"My name? Oh, I am a husband. This gorgeous woman's husband."

"Lord Kamisato? No need to be so formal with me, just call me her husband."

"'Kamisato Ayato' and all my titles are so long to write down, can't I sign it with 'Y/n's hubby' instead?"

"Kamisato Y/n's husband. That's who I am."

"Ayaka, have you forgotten? No more calling me 'big brother', only 'Y/n's husband- Stop laughing, I am serious!"

The last one is literally happening right before your eyes, with the younger sibling hiding her smile and suppressing her giggles behind her intricately decorated fan, as the older one has taken his glove off, wiggling his fingers to show the glistening golden band wrapped around one of them. You, on the other hand, are trying to cover your heated face with a stack of papers you picked when Ayaka entered the office and addressed her big brother as, well, big brother. Peeking above the filled with reports sheets you catch a sly smile playing on Ayato's lips, while his usually piercing eyes reflect the special kind of adoration he holds for you.

You know why he is doing this - the man fought hard for your heart and then hand in marriage, and since it is now a reality, he absolutely keens on that "I am your husband" notion. Sometimes it's a perfect ice breaker in introducing you two to new people, sometimes it's a reason for an eye roll (yours as well), at times it puts people in stupor which Ayato uses to his advantage, but there is always only one initial thought behind every single one of them - showing the world he is proud to be your partner with a label "husband" on it.

And this sentiment is fully returned! However you never had an opportunity to do the same - he always beats you to it, and leaves bashful long enough for the moment to become wasted. You know you can always talk it through with him and he’d be more than happy to give you a chance, but, after all these times he left you speechless, it’s simply a matter of pride to pay him back. Besides… You really-really want to see his reaction if you told someone important those words.

That you are his wife.

You hear a soft knock on the living room’s door where you and Ayato are sitting next to each other at one side of the low table.

“Lord and Lady Kamisato, the guests have arrived.”

“Wonderful, please let them in.”

The man notices your elation upon hearing those words and smiles to himself - your friends from another nation, whom you haven’t seen properly in ages, finally managed to reach the coasts of Inazuma and seek a meeting to reconnect with you and also meet your mysterious husband you’ve written and praised so much in your letters.

The scene is heartwarming. Two girls around your age are tightly hugging you with excited squeals while the man that came in together with them, patiently waits to be introduced. Ayato follows his example, watching your grinning face, filing away every single detail about it - the sparkles in your eyes, the rosiness of your cheeks, that adorable wrinkling of your nose when the girls say something cheesy, and the pure happiness written all over your visage.

“Oh, Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again after so long! So much happened…”

“Yes! We totally should discuss every single event! But I offer to start by introducing us and our husbands.”

“One of you got married?” You ask surprised. “I know that only one of you got recently engaged-”

“Me! But the wedding is so soon, that I already call him my husband, hehe. Oh, we brought the wedding invitation for you and your husband as well, I hope you two will make it!”

“Girls, girls, let’s calm down,” you laugh, pausing them and gesturing to the two men silently observing you - both pairs of eyes shining with admiration. “Ayato, my dear, I want you to meet my friends I’ve told you so much about…”

Your husband hears familiar names, ones he’s remembered long ago, and nods in recognition, offering each a kiss on the back of their hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet people my beloved holds in high regard.”

“Likewise,” they giggle, giving you teasing looks about how gentlemanly your spouse is, and you roll your eyes, but a smile tugging on your lips doesn’t go unnoticed.

“And I’ll take an opportunity to introduce our companion,” one of the women says, stepping closer to her fiance and offering everyone his name and a slight description of his field of work, to which Ayato hums with interest.

“And these,” your other friend gestures to you and your husband, “are Kamisato Ayato and-”

“Wife.”

Everyone falls silent and looks at you with confusion. You yourself are stunned, eyes slightly widened and heart skipping a beat. The word really just flew out of your mouth faster when you could think about it.

“Excuse me?” Your friend gapes at you, and suddenly it clicks. This spontaneous reaction, caused by your unspoken desire, presents you with a perfect opportunity. You finally can get “revenge” on your husband.

“That’s what I said, sweety,” with a smirk and boosting confidence you glance at Ayato and meet his lilac eyes, staring at you with a hint of amusement. “I am this marvelous man’s wife. You know, 'Kamisato Y/n' is way too long to pronounce. So, maybe just a wife instead?”

The silence reigns again, with the three of your guests clearly being in stupor and your husband observing you with an unreadable expression. But suddenly he laughs. Joyfully and sincerely, it plucks on the strings of your crazily beating heart. Instantly there are arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your temple, and you can feel the smile he hides in your hair.

“Yes, that’s right… This remarkable woman is my wife. Most incredible and lovely wife.”

Turning your head slightly you manage to catch a soft blush dusting his porcelain skin, before he faces away from you. Oh Archons, he loves it and he is bashful!

As you fully turn in his embrace and start teasing him, loud enough for only the man to hear (you are not that cruel to embarrass him in front of people), your guests' existence is forgotten for a moment. Both girls sigh and look at the completely lost man, whose hand his future wife takes and rubs a thumb over his knuckles.

“Ah… Please, don’t mind that. She always had a strange sense of humor, and it seems that her husband only enabled it.”

That is true, but you look genuinely happy, so they can bear a week of occasional cringing.

Diluc

The annual harvest celebration has been a tradition in the Ragnvindr family for as long as the Dawn Winery existed. When Master Crepus was alive, it was hosted in the grand mansion with spacious halls and intricately decorated staircases, the one Diluc used to call his home. Guests would gather, wine bars would be uncorked and red liquid fill dozens of glasses, as he and Kaeya would curiously watch the adults interact, sneaking out of their rooms to spy from the hiding spots they knew so well.

But not anymore. Gone were the days of careless happiness he calls the past now, gone his father, gone the mansion, and gone his desire for active social interaction. It's been some years since his return and the sale of the mansion in attempts to run away from said past. The celebration came to a stop for as long as he was gone and then while he tended to re-establishing the business after arrival.

The Dawn Winery, despite all the maids and winemakers, would become so quiet. And it's not like he stayed there for long too - he was always somewhere, preoccupied by something.

That is until his life was shaken and turned upside down, and all by the hands of one single person. The person, who brought light back to his dark crimson eyes, who made him stop and think about how he can not just exist, but live, and happily so, waiting for every opportunity possible to be in the loving presence; the person who brought out that part of him he buried deep down in his graveyard of a soul, and gave it freedom to be again. The home actually started feeling like one, not a building he had a study and a bedroom in, but a place he could share with another, basking in the long-forgotten sensations, having his heart dance jigs and face soften in a tender gaze.

Many changes occurred, and, with some encouragement, he decided to bring back the tradition his father held in high regard, with only his sons' birthdays being more important to the late wine master.

The Winery is not as big as the family mansion used to be, but it is still enough space, with some of the furniture moved and the floor cleared, it can host many people. Besides, there is always a lovely outside with benches, and tables, and chairs, and it seems that Barbatos is kind to you, sending delightful weather as his gift.

Diluc is not a fan of social gatherings, however, he couldn't help but feel giddy when Adelinde exclaimed in elation at the prospect, be rather content when he saw happy smiles of the citizens - it's been a while since any proper celebration, and the monster rampage last month has been keeping everyone in a gloomy mood, and most importantly - he couldn't betray the trust and confidence his wife put into him.

…right. His wife. The ending to his reputation of the most eligible bachelor (not like he ever cared for the title), and the talk of the town for the past couple of weeks. Diluc Ragnvindr is a rather private man, and upon mutual agreement the wedding was private as well, with only few attending, and those few knew how to keep their mouths shut till the right time came. Or not, since one Cavalry Captain loves getting on the redhead's nerves and spilling some beans to the people who are willing to listen, and then not saying another word to create an intrigue.

So yes, this celebration is also a way to finally introduce the owner of the Dawn Winery's wife to the public, and put an end to all the speculations and maybe seal some lips that spew hatred towards the 'lucky woman', and there are a number of those.

You haven't been taking your eyes off the small group of nobles, standing almost in the middle of the first floor hall, loudly discussing the matter, inevitably drawing the attention of the ones not involved in the conversation, but standing rather close to them.

"I am telling you, she must be some dirty little thing, seducing our poor Master Diluc," the raven-haired tall man claims, elegantly holding a glass of dandelion wine in his long fingers. With his white and black clothes he reminds you of a dalmatian. Barking is almost identical too.

"You are right! She must be some commoner, too ashamed to show her face. If she was of a noble origin, the wedding would be grand and public," ah, and this bear-like looking man… you remember him - he was very active in trying to arrange a marriage of a very uninterested Diluc and his 17-year old daughter. You almost grimace at the thought.

"Oh yes! And we all know, that such well-known and ancient family as Ragnvindrs ought to have one of the noble daughters getting married into it," it is the first time you see this dramatically dressed woman, but even so you would've doubled in boisterous laughter if not the pretty dress Adelinde helped you lace an hour ago, that could potentially be ruined with the drink in your own glass.

You will yourself to tune them off for a moment and check on other guests. It quickly becomes clear that this conversation makes them uncomfortable. Some manage to entertain you though, by making fun of those nobles, parodying the pompous manner of their talking and snickering at that.

Nevertheless, one shall put an end to this idiocy.

"Afternoon, good sirs and ma'ams," the group direct their gazes at you, approaching them with a polite smile and a glass absent from your hand. "I've caught pieces of your conversation earlier, and couldn't help, but feel concerned."

The derogatory gaze the woman throws your way doesn't go unnoticed, but you simply choose to ignore it.

"Is that so?" The 'Dalmatian' hums, as if condescendingly. "Are you worried about Master Diluc as well, young lady? Such compassion is admirable."

"Oh, I hardly worry about Diluc," some eyes widen at your lack of his title acknowledgement, but you once again ignore it. "I am concerned about you. You know it's bad manners to berate a person in their own house? I'd really advise you to stop talking, especially about the matter you seem to know nothing about. Not to make bigger fools of yourselves at least."

"How dare you-" the woman you haven't heard talking before, but saw her nodding a lot, with those huge feathers in her hair waving with each tilt of her head, starts gasping because of your 'insult'. "How dare you speak to us like that! A servant must stay silent until asked to open their mouth!"

"I am not a servant here, nor anywhere else," the assumption doesn't surprise you, since all the maids were allowed to wear pretty outfits even while doing their job - after all it was a celebration honoring them as well, they help the Winery keep running.

"When who in the Archon's name are you-?"

"Y/n Ragnvindr," a deep soothing voice rings behind you, so loud and clear, that it immediately shuts all the sounds in the room.

Your lips curl in a wider smile, all the while holding the bewildered gaze of the woman who decided to pick a fight with you.

"Yes, dear?" His chest is now against your back and a hand, clad in a white glove, reaches for yours. "Are you done with welcoming our partners from Liyue?"

"Of course," the back of your hand is brought to his lips to leave a chaste kiss there, and only then you turn your head and catch a dangerous glint in those blood-colored eyes. He is pissed, but neutral face hardly betrays him. "I see we have a problem here."

"Mhm," you hum, not letting go of his hand and looking back at the tensed individuals, who were bad-mouthing you just minutes ago. "It surely isn't how we planned to reveal our marriage, but the situation called for it, I suppose."

"L-lady Ragnvindr, we didn't know-"

"Can these people be escorted out?" Your question interrupts her harshly, making her flinch. "They disturb other guests, and clearly do not know basic rules of respect."

"My dear wife," you can practically feel menace radiating off of his body, and voice dripping with smugness, "no need to ask me. That's your house as much as it's mine, and you contributed so much into organizing this event. So don't be shy to make your own decision."

"Well then," your smile gets even sweeter, contrary to your eyes that burn holes in their distasteful figures, "Get out."

Kaeya

"Hey pretty tits, hic! Argh, you come here often?"

You wouldn't think that a question like this was addressed to you, if the heavily smelling of alcohol man wasn't occupying the bar stool to your right, leaning forward in your direction. You slightly turn your head and suspiciously watch the swinging glass in his trembling hand, half full and threatening to spill the dark liquid. He really had too much tonight.

"...was that supposed to be a compliment?"

Leaning back to avoid any unfortunate outcome, you give him an unamused look, finished with an arched brow. From the corner of your eye you can't help but notice Charles staring at the man. It is nice to know your good acquaintance doesn't ignore the possible trouble a drunkard can cause another customer.

But you can handle it.

"It was!" He exclaims so happily, childishly proud that you acknowledged the fact. Should you tell him he sucks at it? And that there is only one man whose drunk flirty compliments you'll ever accept, and even in a state like that he would manage to be good, putting a smile on your face? Right now though, the urge to grimace is stronger.

"...thanks," I suppose?. "And yes, I come here often to spend the evening with my partner."

At that his face visibly falls and you turn away, assuming it is enough to cut the conversation short, and concentrate on savoring your first drink of the evening. You ordered it while waiting for one particular Cavalry Captain, and even though it's not strange for him to come later due to astronomically fast piling up paperwork, today he seems to be particularly busy. Maybe you should purchase a bottle and come to his quarters?

Just before you could do just that, there is a hand sliding over your right hip and a hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. You don't even flinch or freeze, recognizing the alluring presence immediately and leaning back into the firmness of his chest.

"You are late, Kaeya."

A soft chuckle and a kiss to the temple make it pretty clear that the azure-haired man cracked your fake rebuke on the spot, knowing that you are not one bit angry at him, but actually really happy to finally have him here.

"I apologize, princess," another kiss, this time to your cheek, "work's been a bit tough. But I am glad to finally be here with my woman."

"Youuurr?"

Ah, you completely forgot about the drunkard to your right.

Turning to look at Kaeya's reaction, you are stricken by the star-shaped pupil gazing right at you - he hasn't even glanced in the other man's direction, instead fixated on you completely. And that is making wonders to your poor heart.

"Who's that, snowflake?" His tone holds curiosity, but you know your lover, and you know when he is ready to be an ass. You shouldn't encourage this, however…

You'd love to see Kaeya Alberich tell the suitor off for you.

"No idea. But he said I have pretty tits."

He hums at that.

"True, but I would've aimed for that delicious butt. I am a simple man, after all."

You barely slap his hand in time, not nearly as drunk to start touching each other right here and right now. At your jab in his ribs he simply laughs heartily, settling his palm back onto your hip and momentarily redirecting his attention to the troublemaker who's been staring at you two throughout the whole exchange.

"You are not from here, are you?"

Only when your lover says that, do you decide to take in the other man's appearance. Indeed, if you were to look longer at him (not like you were interested) it would be easy to guess Fontaine as his land of origin.

"And what?" He straightens his back and puffs his chest as if trying to intimidate. What a rooster. "Does it prevent me from pursuing a pretty woman from another region?"

Oh, so now it's not simply one flirting remark, but a full-blown pursuit? How troublesome.

"Oh no, no, of course not," honey is dripping off those pretty lips, pulled into a smirk. "It's just that otherwise you'd know it's a bad tone to hit on someone's ex-girlfriend."

Confusion appears on the pursuer's face and you look inquiringly at Kaeya as well. The only answer you get is a wink and a mouthed request to order him a drink. Still perplexed, you nevertheless turn to Charles and ask him to make the Cavalry Captain the usual.

Meanwhile the man pulls his thoughts together.

"It's stupid! If she is your ex, then how does it not give me the right to date her? Ridiculous. Why do you even hold her like that!?"

The shouting gathers attention from other patrons - some were invested almost from the beginning, seeing how that unknown man tried to make a move on you, and snickering behind their mugs of alcohol at his unawareness of your relationship.

And Kaeya is all for the show. Many eyes watch as an elegant hand wraps around the glass of his favorite drink and brings it to the silent lips. It feels like everyone stopped breathing and the silence is pressuring, like a string ready to snap and reveal some shocking truth. You, on the other hand, roll your eyes at the male's love for theatrics and put an elbow onto the counter and lean your cheek into your open palm. This is going to be crushing, you almost feel sorry for the guy.

When the Cavalry Captain takes the third sip and sighs in delight - then, and only then, - he looks dead into the other man's eyes, so oppressively that he shrinks under the weight of this cold gaze.

"Maybe because she is my wife?"

If it was physically possible, the drunkard's jaw would hit the floor. The glass, he's been holding just seconds ago, however, follows its destiny, breaking from the impact with floorboards and ruining the prolonged silence and earning a grunt from the barman.

"S-she's what?"

"His wife," you raise your hand and show the ring, getting quite tired and wanting to save at least some of this man's dignity. "So, if you could, please, let us two have our date night. Uninterrupted."

Finally it seems to have him sobered up a little and he starts profusely apologizing to you, to Kaeya, to Charles, to Barbatos and Focalors, while digging his porch with mora out to pay for his drinks and minor damage he caused.

When he stumbles outside and the other patrons stop following the drama, you turn to a contently sipping on his wine Kaeya, who is excelling the nastiest grin on his face.

"Ex-girlfriend? Seriously? That's how you call your wife now?"

"Well, technically I am not wrong, right? Since you are not my girlfriend anymore," he shrugs his shoulders, finishing the last few gulps and putting the glass back onto the counter.

"Then the next time we meet new people I will introduce you as my ex-boyfriend. What? Technically you are," having his own words being thrown into his face makes Kaeya laugh, and he hugs you tightly, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"Deal. But only once, to make it even. I enjoy being called your husband way more."

10K notes · View notes

lovings4turn · 1 month

Text

ᯓ★ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 (𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂)

— charles’ girlfriend likes to wake up a little earlier every morning in order to take her time getting ready. charles tries to wake up a little earlier, too. (1.2k words)

+ more than inspired by my need to wake up hours before i realistically need to (and then complain about how tired i am)

+ fluff ! mentions of reader wearing make-up but nothing overly specific !

gentle clattering served as charles’ alarm clock as he pried his eyes open, rubbing at them clumsily to rid his vision of the bleariness that came with just waking up. a throaty grumble escaped his lips, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he pushed himself up onto an elbow.

after a long overdue movie night, charles had spent the night at your place, something he would never, ever complain about. somehow, sleep always came to him much easier when he was by your side, wrapped in sheets that harboured the smell of your perfume.

though you'd already left the bed, currently sitting at your dressing table as you laid out your skincare products, charles could still feel the warmth of your body travelling along the mattress and up his body like vines of ivy.

time wasn't important to him right now, but he could assume that it was fairly early.

despite your incredibly sleepy nature, you'd surprised charles towards the beginning of your relationship by revealing to him that you quite enjoyed waking up a little earlier in order to take your time getting ready.

rushing to get out of the door was something that always provided you with feelings of anxiety, and you could never shake the thought that you'd forgotten something important. this way, you could slowly wake yourself up and spend a little more time focusing on yourself, an idea charles couldn't find fault in.

any amount of love and care shown towards you was welcomed by charles with open arms.

whilst charles' job required him to be a morning person, thanks to early training sessions and odd schedules on race weekends, it by no means meant that he was magically transformed into someone who delighted in waking up before the sun rose.

dragging himself into the gym at ridiculous hours in the morning required copious alarms and a boatload of motivation, but somehow when it came to this - watching the love of his life follow the same routine she performed almost daily - mornings felt easier.

"good morning, baby," charles said, deliberately keeping his voice low so as not to startle you. the words were thick with sleep, almost slurred together and syrupy, and a smile immediately rose to your face at the sound.

"g’morning love. sorry, did i wake you?"

a fond expression washed over charles' face as you turned to look at him over your shoulder, moisturiser poised in one hand ready for you to use. he shook his head gently, messy chestnut hair falling a little into his eyes.

"no, no, you're fine," he assured, throwing in a gentle smile to fully placate you.

and it was true. charles wasn't woken by the noise - or lack thereof - that you were making. it was as though his body had subconsciously realised you were awake and moving, and had forced his eyes open so he could savour every last second with you, satisfying his desire to get as much of you to himself as he possibly could.

water, oxygen, food, and you: those were the four things charles was certain he required for survival.

noticing that your eyes were still fixed on him, his upper body bare above the crumpled sheets of your bed, a lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his words took on a teasing tone.

"don't let me distract you, baby. keep getting ready."

you playfully rolled your eyes at his teasing, ignoring the way that his words made heat bubble beneath your cheeks. it was nothing a cooling moisturiser couldn't fix, and you relished in the feeling of the cream on your tired skin as you turned back to face your mirror.

meanwhile, charles was utterly mesmerised, transfixed by the glimpse of your reflection he was granted from his spot in bed.

how you could be performing a task charles had seen countless times before and still spark flames of awe in his heart should have been baffling, but to charles it all made sense.

everything about you set him alight, provoked a jolt of white hot electricity that ran through his veins and left him breathless. yet at the same time, you were the epitome of comfort and peace. your effect on him was far too powerful, so much so that it could break the rules of the universe and cause his heart to both pound and stop simultaneously.

charles settled back against the plush pillows, stretching his arms above his head with a soft grunt before letting them fall to rest against his stomach.

even in your silly fluffy headband, designed to look like a snail and complete with two eye-stalks, you were striking to him. every movement was fluid and precise, and it reminded him a little of himself in the car.

just as he knew every button of the steering wheel like it were an extension of his own body, had learned exactly where the breaking points were on each track and tuned himself into the car's movements, you had perfected your own artistry. your hand never faltered as it moved from product to product, and you barely batted a sleepy eye as you followed the routine you had down to a tee.

the two of you had fallen into a comfortable silence, not wanting to break the tranquil air that an early morning provided. now and again, you would meet his eye in the mirror and stick your tongue out at him, a gesture which he would return without hesitation.

it took about twenty or so minutes for charles’ body to begin to wake up, finally registering that the man wouldn’t be trying to get back to sleep any time soon. though his eyes were still a little heavy, charles swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made his way to his feet, muffling a yawn into the palm of his hand.

he padded over to you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder and peer at you through the mirror.

“mm,” you mumbled, relaxing into his warmth. “hi, sleepyhead.”

charles pressed a lingering kiss to your temple before running a thumb lovingly over the spot that his stubble had grazed, attempting to reverse any disturbance to the makeup you’d carefully applied moments ago.

“hello beautiful.”

reluctantly, charles stood up to his full height and flicked one of the headband’s fuzzy stalks with a look of fondness before speaking.

“gonna go make us some coffee. don’t miss me too much”

even with his teasing tone, you almost melted at his words, sure that when charles returned he’d find a pile of sweet, syrupy goo in your place.

charles never needed to tell you how much he loved you - though he never missed an opportunity to do so. instead, your boyfriend preferred to show you, actions speaking louder than words as the famous phrase said.

so, if waking up early on his rare days off to watch you get ready and make you a coffee made your smile a little brighter and your day a little easier, charles would take the mid-day crash he was inevitably going to experience.

anything was worth it when it came to you.

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 x you

2K notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 27 days

Note

I have this mafia Charles hurt comfort idea. Pretty platonic but somewhere where Charles sees her and is mesmerized and slowly creeps his way in the readers life. This is till one day the opposite mafia figures out there’s a weak spot and they take and rough her up and he comes and saves her will all “Who did this to you” trope etc

A/N: I love this, because it's platonic and I don't write that often

You don't know how Charles came to be in your life, one day you were working at your restaurant and serving him, and now here he was eating your chips on your coach.

It was weird to see this man, one who for some reason were scared off sitting on your god ugly couch wearing a very expensive Gucci suit. "Charles?" The man hums and stops shoving the chips in his mouth and cocks his head to the side. "Yeah, babes?" You roll your eyes and chuckle, Charles knows damn well you wouldn't date him, but that didn't stop him from calling you babes or baby.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have a meeting or something?" You move from your kitchen and sit down next to Charles, pulling your legs up to your chest. "Yes, but I wanted to see you first." "To do what? Eat all my food." You snatch away the bag and he whines at the loss of his salty cheat food.

"Maybe, but np, wanted to let you know I have to go to France for a little bit." He shrugs, and you don't pry, Charles always told you when he'd be out of town and that the normal person who followed you, yet something you weren't supposed to know, would be following you. "How long will you be gone?" Charles smiles and pats your knee, rings on display.

He wore one that had an insignia on it and never took it off, you still remember when a shop clerk who was rude to you saw it. The shop clerk froze and when Charles turned and smiled you can still see the way the color drained from his face.

"I'll be gone for about a month or so, you going to miss me?" He grins and you shove his head slightly both of you chuckling. "No, I'll be free of your being a bother. And I'll have my chips to myself." Charles giggles, but stops as he clears his throat getting serious.

"Promise me, that you'll be safe, don't talk to strangers." His face stone cold and you snort. "Yeah should've listened to that advice. Then I wouldn't have a stranger sitting on my couch." You joke, but your laughter is only met with a stern gaze. "Y/n, you're my best friend, I'm serious please don't do anything crazy." He pleads and you nod your head.

"Of course, Char," You untangle your legs and move into his lap and hug him. Charles relaxes and wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. "I'll be back, don't worry." Kissing your temple.

----------------------

"Anything else for you sir?" You smile at the creepy Italian man with big curly hair and round glasses on his pinched face. "No, thank you," You nod and quickly walk through the dark restaurant and shiver feeling his eyes on you still. "You alright?" One of your coworkers ask, worry evident in their tone. "Yep, just the usual weird customer." They nod in understanding and move away going to check on their own tables.

Your shift finally ends, and you shiver, shaking off the weird feeling of being watched. Tightening your coat around you, you jump and then giggle when you realize it's your phone vibrating. "Hey, Char," You knew it was him, his shadow must've told him you just left work. "Hey, gorgeous. How was work?" He asks, and you smile, missing having him beside you and walking you home.

"It was fine, the regulars, and then some gu-" The phone is ripped from your grasp and you scream but it's muffled by a hand closing around your mouth. Two men shove you into the alleyway hearing a crunch you whimper knowing they've destroyed your phone.

You want nothing more than to have Charles here, as pain explodes all over your body.

---------------

You don't know what happened, but the soft beeping has your body aching just wanting it to shut up. "mumph," You grumble, warmth is suddenly on you and fingers tracing the lines of your face. "Baby, shhh it's okay, you're safe." Opening your eyes, the best you can with them swollen you see a blurry image of Charles.

"Who did this to you?" He whispers, voice filled with anger and sadness. "God, I'm so sorry," He whispers and moves lying down on the bed with you. You whine, sore all over but it feels good to have Charles's scent and warmth all over you. "Missed you," You whisper, and Charles chuckles and cuddles closer to you. "I missed you too," He whispers and you drift off into sleep.

"Sir, we found them," Charles doesn't move and just nods his head. "Rip his head off," Charles growls and presses a delicate kiss to your temple. "Rip all their heads off for all I care,"

511 notes · View notes

munariplans · 5 months

Note

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready.

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat.

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years.

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her.

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either.

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things.

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so.

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless.

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did.

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself.

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast.

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity.

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming.

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team.

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well.

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons.

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers.

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day.

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time.

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station.

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee.

oh. this was what your days-off were for.

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station.

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much.

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it.

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly.

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret.

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.”

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later.

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well.

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically.

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic.

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave.

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you.

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.”

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now.

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh.

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off.

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout.

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her.

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned.

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else.

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time.

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.”

“yes ma’am.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe

819 notes · View notes

inoreuct · 9 months

Text

punkflower where hobie loves the morales family, loves how they’re becoming HIS family.

still, the first time jeff calls him “son”, he has such a visceral reaction.

he knows it’s coming from a good place and he knows he should be touched, but he’s only ever been called son in a condescending way. in a “know your place beneath me and stay in it” way. he feels so sick all of a sudden, nausea roiling in his gut, and his knee bangs against the underside of the table as he screeches his chair back and mutters a shaky “’scuse me”.

he hears rio’s concerned call of his name, sees the confusion and dread on jeff’s face right before he turns and leaves. he doesn’t stop until he’s up on the roof, ducking into the bottom of the water tower and collapsing into a corner.

stupid. it’s so stupid, and it pisses him off how tears are burning down his cheeks.

hobie scrubs them away with the back of his wrist even as he hears the door to the roof creak open, hears the familiar gait that he knows belongs to miles. he keeps his face turned away as his boyfriend appears in his line of sight, stepping gingerly like if he moved too fast hobie would break.

the punk sniffs angrily, the spikes on his cuff poking his cheek as he wipes his tears again. a hand brushes his against the ground as miles sits down beside him, close enough to touch but not quite.

he waits. for miles to say something, anything; to ask for an explanation, or offer words of comfort that will ultimately only make him feel worse.

in the end, it’s him that breaks the silence.

“i’m sorry,” he offers, and cringes. his voice is thick like rusted metal, scratchy in his throat. it’s scraping up against old wounds that never really healed, pulling at scabs to draw fresh blood, and it stings. “m’sorry, i just— he’s—” it feels damning to even say these words, but it’s the truth, and hobie’s never been a good liar.

doesn’t mean it’s not eating him alive, though.

“he’s still a cop, miles,” he chokes out, guilt winching around his lungs like a parasite, “and the last time a cop called me son—” hobie’s breath shudders out of his lungs as miles crawls into his space, ducking his head beneath hobie’s arm to press the punk’s face to his chest.

“i know,” miles murmurs, wrapping his fingers around hobie’s nape as hobie scrunches a desperate fist into the back of his shirt. “i know. i understand.”

hobie doesn’t think he really does, but that’s okay. if hobie has any say in it, miles will never have to go through what he did and understand what it’s like.

his voice is meek as he asks, “are they mad?”

“‘course not.” miles clicks his tongue, gently admonishing, like it’s a fact hobie should know by now; his fingers trace gentle circles into hobie’s skin. “just worried. hope you know my mama’s gonna feed you thrice the usual serving of tres leches when we get back.”

that gets a chuckle out of him at least, but the look on jeff’s face still haunts him, burned front and centre into his mind’s eye like an afterimage. “and your dad?” he feels miles go still, doesn’t resist as his boyfriend pulls back to look hobie in the eye. his voice is terribly gentle.

“he understands. it’s okay.”

hobie doesn’t think it’s okay. it doesn’t feel very okay. jeff had disliked him at first and reasonably so; he’s nothing like a person anyone would want their kid to be with.

and yet the captain had let him into their home, accepted him as miles’s person, given him a place at the table. of course rio would have sat him down and shoved food into his hands regardless, but still—

“hobie.”

miles calls his attention back, and he looks up into wide, dark eyes. his heart burns.

“he knows what you’ve been through. he knows how much you’ve grown.” miles huffs a soft laugh, rubbing his thumb against hobie’s hairline. “do you remember that time we went to your concert?”

hobie nods; he doesn’t think he can speak just yet.

“you were so nervous about what he would think, but he was stressing about looking like an old man in front of your friends. he literally said that as your boyfriend’s dad he had to out-hip all the other guys his age.”

something twists in hobie’s chest. “he’s the coolest old man i know.” he pauses, frowning. “maybe after peter b.”

miles laughs again, quietly. “he cares about you.”

hobie doesn’t doubt that. he’d let jeff and rio learn about him piece by piece, and with every sliver of information jeff had softened more; he might be the captain of the PDNY, but he was also a father.

hobie’s never really had a father.

not until he was asked about whether he preferred waffles or pancakes. until he was consulted for advice on what to wear to a pride parade. until jeff only looked at his blue laces with a tentative expression and he was hesitantly slipped a phone number to call if he ever got into trouble in this dimension that he couldn’t get himself out of, a helpline should he ever need it.

so he gets up, takes a deep breath and hauls miles to his feet. his boots clomp down the stairs; he takes care not to fling open the door and when he sees jeff and rio hovering in the living room, he holds out his arms.

rio reaches him first. she’s shorter but fierce, pulling hobie down to hug him tight, and he feels like crying again.

miles slips close to cling to his back, arms sliding around his waist, and hobie watches jeff meet his eyes with something almost anxious.

hobie’s lips twist in a smile. an i’m sorry and an it’s okay wrapped in one.

and maybe it really is okay, because when jeff comes around to squeeze them all together, hobie can’t help his relieved sigh as he thinks, this is what family’s supposed to feel like, certain as the next deep breath he takes and comforting like the broad hand that squeezes his shoulder.

fin.

#punkflower #hobie brown #miles morales #across the spiderverse #atsv #flowerpunk #miles x hobie #spiderverse #i love them so fucking much #jeff and rio care so much for this scrawny boy their son loves #hobie’s probably never had a proper father figure but as soon as jeff accepts him BAM #he’s getting dragged into talk about football and elections and the system #and he’s absolutely gobsmacked bcs jeff CARES about his opinion #rio and miles are peeking at them from around the corner and high-fiving

1K notes · View notes

trappolia · 3 months

Text

HOT THINGS HE DOES FOR YOU ── jack howl + gn!reader, 576

i. tugs you out of harm’s way like it’s his second nature. takes your hand to pull you to his other side when he notices that you’re walking on the side closest to the road; wraps an arm around you to tug you closer to him before you get run over by a bike or a rowdy group of students. he tends to chide you for not being careful enough, but that’s only because he doesn’t want to expose the fact that your clumsiness is one of his guilty pleasures. he likes being able to protect you, even if it’s something as trivial as an oncoming cyclist or a group of rowdy students.

ii. soundlessly takes your bag from you whenever he picks you up from class. similarly to deuce, he’ll be waiting for you outside your class, and when you come out, he’ll casually take your bag from you to sling it over his shoulder, all while asking you about how your day is going. this extends to any other heavy things you might be carrying, whether it is a box of supplies another teacher asked you to move to another classroom or a bag of groceries full of junk food for your weekly sleepover with the other first-years. if the baggage is particularly heavy, jack tends to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows before effortlessly lifting whatever you had trouble carrying. whether he does this knowing its effect on you is still unknown.

iii. always orders an extra serving of food when you eat out together, especially when you insist that you ‘aren’t hungry’. all’s well until his food arrives, and he sees you eyeing it like a predator would to its prey. jack would roll his eyes and split half with you, a silent ‘i told you so’ in the way he raises an unimpressed brow at you. he can’t hide his feelings that well though– you always notice that fond, exasperated smile that tugs on his lips when he sees you smile at him sheepishly, cheeks stuffed with food.

iv. tends to roll his eyes whenever someone even glances at you with a hint of interest. he knows you’re hot, attractive, beautiful– whatever adjective you want to use, but sometimes he just cannot believe the audacity of some people to even think that they have a chance with you. it’s as funny as it is attractive to see someone usually so put together become so annoyed with a complete stranger in an act of pettiness. but give him a kiss right in front of the person who was checking you out and you’ll have him melting in no time, his tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.

v. insanely attractive in the late hours of the night when it’s just you and him in your bedroom. the lack of sleep and the adrenaline coursing through your veins from the caffeine and sugar you consumed to get through your last all-nighter before your exam makes you particularly talkative, rambling about everything and anything, and jack is so out of it that he doesn’t even bother chiding you for the consequences of your consumption in energy drinks. instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and sinks into his chair, listening to you blabber away with half-lidded eyes and a small smile. the room is filled with your delirious rambling and jack’s hums as he lets you know that he’s still listening.

405 notes · View notes

forfucksakesniall · 9 months

Note

Hi bestie, when you have the time could you make something for lewis, like just domestic vibes and/or he being a complete simp

Domestic Vibes and being a Complete Simp

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: Too much fluff

He doesn't show it much, but Lewis is a huge cuddler. When it's a lazy morning, he would bury his face in the crook of your neck and wrap his arms around you. It's a force of habit by now.

Lewis doesn't mind being the "little spoon," wrapping his arms around you as you both cuddle. His reason is because he can hear your heartbeat, but you know why he lays on your chest. You can feel the way he nuzzles his face and leaves small kisses.

He would turn the TV on and watch your favorite shows together while your koala of a boyfriend cuddles under a cozy blanket.

He talks about cooking pasta in an interview, but in reality, he is a menace in the kitchen.

But you enjoy spending time "trying" to cook something decent with him in the kitchen.

"No, Lewis. You need to add the water after." He does his old man laugh. "Oh well, we can just do it again. I guess."

When working out on his balcony in Monaco, he would encourage you to join him, making him your personal trainer. "Just one more, baby," he whispers in your ear. "I can't anymore, Lew." you try to catch your breath. "But you've only done one squat, baby."

When he did have work, he would wake up early and give you a kiss on the head before getting ready. Before he leaves the house, he would give you a kiss goodbye while you were still asleep and leave a message on your phone to see when you get up.

Lewis:

Good morning, baby.

Didn't want to wake you up.

You deserve some rest after last night ;)

I'll see you later.

I love you so much!

I love you too!!

If you ever did wake up before he left, he'd make breakfast for you and make sure to use all the time he has with you.

"You'll be late!" you tell him while he has you caged under him. "I still have some time, baby. Just let me take care of you. Don't want you feeling neglected."

When he comes late, you would wait for him in bed watching a movie or reading a book.

"Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?" he asks you. "I wanted to wait for you. You've been gone all day."

Both of you would end up in long, late-night conversations about life and dreams, making sure you always feel listened to and supported.

There may be times when you feel under the weather or when your hormones are acting up. He would stay with you longer and even call in sick if needed.

"You shouldn't have done that... This will pass. I'll be fine later anyway," you say as you cradle his face while lying in bed.

"I don't want to leave knowing that you're not feeling okay. I would be thinking about you even if I leave. Might as well stay here and take care of you," he says, leaning in close to give you a sweet kiss.

Lewis is known for being fashion-forward. While he shops for himself, he would go to the women's section to check out anything that you might like.

He would come home with dozens of bags from different brands."Looks like someone had Christmas early," you tease him. "Oh baby, this isn't even close to Christmas for you," he tells you while setting all the bags down on the floor. "I need you to be a good girl and try some things for me," he winks while getting more bags from the car.

He is seen on all your social media posts. He can't resist leaving flirty comments and adorable emojis, making sure everyone knows he's head over heels for you.

Lewis is known to be very private with his life, definitely with you. So, whenever you guys were in public, he would always take you to a place where there's a private area to be with you. Being this protective also had its perks. He knows that after they serve your food, no one would come over to check on you two again unless you both are done with your meals. He would be really handsy under the table. Light touches on your arm, the way he looks into your eyes then lips and at the same time leans in closer to you. At this point, the only thing stopping him was the table between you.

But when you're with him or your friends, he doesn't shy away from PDA. He would hug you from behind, holding your waist, have you sit on his lap, kiss your cheek from time to time, and whisper sweet nothings.

Lewis loves taking pictures with you or of you, creating a personalized gallery of your love story.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton blurb #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton oneshot #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

468 notes · View notes

poopwons · 4 months

Text

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.”

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can��t help it, even his hands are shaking.

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all.

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts.

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,”

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor.

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong.

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.”

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered.

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want.

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.”

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything.

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other.

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same.

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.”

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it.

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit.

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him.

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.”

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips.

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up.

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows.

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you.

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips.

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties.

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger.

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest.

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you.

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you.

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him.

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth.

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes.

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white.

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath.

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment.

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly.

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side.

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??”

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise.

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

#jean kirstein #snk jean #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #snk smut #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #jean x you #jean x y/n #aot fanfiction #no use of y/n

237 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

how do you think silco would know about us? like would she introduce us to him as like “(name), silco. silco, (name)” or would she just be talking about something and then be like “and my girlfriend- oh-“ and silco would just be like “oh? girlfriend? 🧍😯”

cuteeee

men and minors dni

silco would know long before she tells him.

he's incredibly observant. and when sevika starts coming in with a little glint in her eye, a little smirk tugging at the side of her lips as she stares off into space, he starts to get suspicious.

she's less irritable. she's more conversational. she's a little softer around the edges. nobody else notices any difference, but silco and sevika are so close to one another that he does.

he doesn't say anything, knowing that sevika will tell him when she's ready. but that doesn't stop him from poking some fun at her.

she'll yawn in the middle of a meeting and he'll shoot her a smile. "up late last night?" he asks. she just nods. "babette's?" he asks, knowing damn well she wasn't at babette's. he chuckles at the little blush that forms on her cheeks.

she'll come in with visible hickeys (she never let the girls at babette's mark her besides their nails scratching down her back) and he'll snort. "do you need me to get you some of that foundation i use in your shade?"

the thing is, the way sevika and silco are, they both communicate a majority of their information telepathically. so sevika knows silco knows about you, but she's not going to say anything until absolutely necessary, just to avoid the awkward interaction.

but, eventually, silco gets curious. from the very few glimpses of the person you might be that he susses out from sevika's new behavior, he thinks he'd actually quite like you.

like when sevika and silco are out walking the streets, and she disappears then reappears with a bag on her wrist, and he catches sight of a little teddy bear plushy inside it.

or when sevika opens her side satchel one morning then smirks and pulls out a big joint, wrapped in a pink wrap.

or when she starts bringing in a little lunch pail, and the food smells absolutely divine.

silco's curious. he wants to know the mysterious person that's caught sevika's attention.

as strange and emotionally stunted as their relationship is, sevika is still silco's closest friend. and he'd never tell her, but he cares for her.

so, one night, as they're smoking in his office and decompressing from a horribly boring meeting up top, silco clears his throat to get her attention.

"i'd like to meet her." he says, never one to beat around the bush. he bites back the smile that threatens to form on his lips at the way sevika sputters and blushes, rubbing the back of her neck as she composes herself, then sighing.

"she wants to meet you too." she admits hesitantly. he grins.

the next night, sevika finally lets you come to the last drop with her. and instead of parking you in her usual booth, she drags you upstairs to silco's office.

she stops you outside the door, refusing to meet your eye. you smile at her.

"you're nervous?" you guess. she huffs and nods.

"just... don't embarrass me too much." she requests.

you laugh and kiss her cheek, then knock on the door for her. "no promises."

silco's got a sly smile on his lips the entire night while he chats with you and watches sevika melt into the couch beside you from embarrassment. you both swap stories about her, and he finds you incredibly funny (and ballsy-- he's never heard anyone tease sevika the way you do.)

you guys become great friends.

he's the only other person who knows sevika well enough for you to be able to bitch about her to. and vice versa.

sometimes, you'll even meet up for drinks with silco without sevika present. just so the two of you can decompress and complain about all her little quirks and strange hang ups.

and once silco lets it slide that the food you pack for sevika in her lunch boxes smells delicious to him, you start packing her two servings, insiting she share with her boss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

179 notes · View notes

anticanonsposts · 4 months

Text

wholesome proposal/wedding thoughts

i need könig so bad man

totally sfw :)

in the least love bomb-ish way possible he would be infatuated with you immediately and if you wanted to marry him within the first 3-4 months of dating, he would say yes

but, knowing you, he waited long enough until you guys had gotten serious, lived together, and waited until you had made multiple jokes or references to you guys being married

i love him but I don't think he’d be the most subtle guy when figuring out what ring to get you

you first noticed when he spent an inordinate amount of time looking at your hands when you wore rings

you would also catch him looking in your jewelry to see what colors you usually got

(he makes sure to get the absolute basics of if you prefer silver or gold)

as it gets closer to the proposal you notice a couple of your rings go missing briefly, because he took them to a ring shop to get them sized

when you asked him if he had seen them around he just happened to know the obscure places you ‘left’ them

Like in the cupholder in your car, or in one of your dresser drawers…

once he found the perfect ring, he’d be sooooo paranoid that he was gonna lose it, and checked about 100 times each day to make sure it hadn’t magically disappeared

he also would change his hiding spot for it, so that you never found it

given that he is a very private (shy) person, the proposal is not done with a large audience

he most likely would take you on a semi-private dinner, in a less busy restaurant, or one that offered more private seating so that you two could be more alone

however the one person he does invite is either one of your best friends or sibling (who ever is closest to you) and has them wait somewhere nearby so that they can capture photos of the proposal

once again, he is not subtle…

you defo notice that he is more nervous than normal and barely touches his food, which is VERY unusual for him

then finally when dessert is served he grabs one of your hands and says that he wanted to ask you something (lol you already know)

he tells you how fulfilling your relationship has been and how much he loves and appreciates you

then finally gets on one knee and says, “will you do me the honor of marrying me?....Please?” (guy’s hands are SHAKING)

you obvi say ofc, yes!!!

both of your hands coming to his face pulling him towards you into a kiss

in return he pulls you completely against him, wrapping his (giant) arms around your torso and you are assaulting his face with kisses, only interrupted when he says

‘schatz schatz, I need to give you the ring’ a laugh rumbles through his chest, gently pulling you off of him and guiding the ring onto your finger

both of you have glossy eyes at this point

for the next two weeks he is on cloud nine, absolutely nothing deters his mood

he also holds your hand CONSTANTLY and stares at you even more than he normally does

man is just so happy

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod mw2 #konig blurb #call of duty modern warfare #konig imagine #konig x reader fluff #konig x you #konig x y/n

288 notes · View notes

mouschiwrites · 6 months

Note

hihi it’s the anon from the one req with the prime empire outfit thing :3 !! i was wondering if you could do something similar but with a reader who wakes up before them and makes them food ?? your writing is so munchable (positively)

Yaay good to have you back!!! I cannot express how joyous it makes me to know that people actually enjoy my silly scrawlings 🥹

Ninjago - Making Breakfast For the Ninjas

Kai

He is NOT a morning person

Definitely the type of guy to say “just five more minutes” like eight times before he finally drags himself out of bed

But when he wakes up to the smell of food…

And you’re not next to him…

He’s more than motivated to get up

He follows the smell into the kitchen, sighing to himself when he sees you at the stove

He approaches from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck

“Come back to bed, my sunshine.”

“You don’t want breakfast?”

“…keep cooking.”

He leans on you, half asleep while you finish frying some eggs and bacon

He’s still a little groggy while you eat together, but you can see him waking up the more he eats

You watch him carefully, watching for any signs that might indicate his opinion on your cooking

Polishing off his first plate, Kai blinks the rest of the sleepiness from his eyes

You make eye contact, both smiling softly

Your lips curl into a bigger grin when he asks for seconds

Still, you can’t help but tease:

“What about going back to bed?”

“Nah. I’m up now. Your amazing cooking has worked its magic on me.”

He smirks as you blush, grabbing his plate to get him another serving

Watching you, he can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky

Again, he’s not a morning person, but he’s discovered his new favorite way to wake up

Jay

When Jay wakes up, the first thing he does is check to see if you’re awake

He refuses to get out of bed unless you go with him, and he expects you to do the same

So when he wakes up and you’re not there, he’s a little offended

But then some worry starts to settle in

Did something happen? Surely that must be the case; why else would you break your routine?

Hauling himself out of bed, he hurries around the house, calling your name

He perks up when he hears your response in the kitchen

Dashing in, he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you alive and well, even smiling at him from your station at the stove

You perceive his worried expression, suddenly feeling a little guilty for abandoning him in bed

“Sorry, did I scare you? I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

He sighs in relief, assuring you that he’s just glad you’re okay

He starts rambling about his dream he had, taking a seat at the table while you finished grilling waffles

He doesn’t stop (aside from a quick “thanks”) when you set his plate in front of him

But when he takes his first bite, he freezes mid-sentence

“…is it okay..?”

“Oh my Borg. Y/n. You beautiful savant. This is amazing.”

You smile giddily as he shovels the food down his gullet

When he’s finished, he reclines in his chair satisfactorily

“This absolutely makes up for getting up before me. But next time let me wake up with you, okay?”

Cole

Cole could sleep through a category 5 hurricane

He certainly sounds like one when he snores

So it’s no surprise to him when he wakes up and you’re not there

Actually, that’s what he’s used to

He’ll lumber out of bed and make his way to the bathroom, where he’ll find you getting ready for the day

That’s how you start your day: one a tad later, but always together

When he goes to the bathroom and finds it empty, he’s baffled

He stands there for a solid minute, waiting for the grogginess to leave his head so he can think clearly

Before that happens, he’s enticed by the smell of pancakes

He follows the aroma to the kitchen, where two of his problems are solved

One, he’s found you

Two, you’re making breakfast, so his hunger will soon be satiated

He stands behind you, placing his burly arms and his chin on the top of your head

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

“Pancakes. You want butter and syrup?”

“Mmmm. You know me so well.”

He stays by your side while you cook, trying to keep the drool in his mouth

You make him a high stack of pancakes, which you both know he’ll absolutely destroy

Before he even takes his first bite, he’s already complimenting your cooking

The compliments keep flowing while he eats, bringing a flattered pinkness to your cheeks

When he’s done, he lets out a dreamy sigh, placing his chin on his palm, admiring you

“My partner’s drop-dead gorgeous and the best cook in the world. Wakes me up with pancakes. Pancakes!”

“Only because you deserve it.”

You share a sticky kiss that tastes like maple syrup, which silently prompts you both to go brush your teeth and get ready for the day

Zane

Zane's usually the one to wake up earlier and get breakfast started, so you'll have to be really early if you want to surprise him

He assumes you're just in the bathroom when he doesn't see you in bed, so he shrugs it off and heads to the kitchen

He blinks in shock when he sees you already there, setting the table with omelettes and toast

He hurries over to you, reaching out to take the butter from your hands, but you dodge him

"Nuh-uh, you just sit down."

He reluctantly obeys

While you eat, you can't help but notice his curious glances at you

Eventually he breaks the silence

"Why did you do this?"

"Because I love you. I wanted to treat you."

His gentle smile does little to express how touched he is

You know he's a man of few words, so just having him finish his plate is enough to tell you he liked the meal

You grin proudly to yourself as you gather the dishes

He absolutely insists on helping you clean up, will NOT take no for an answer

While you clean up together, he gives you constructive feedback on your cooking

He figures it'd be more valuable to you than just compliments

And of course it is; he's basically a master chef, and you're getting free advice

Lloyd

For Lloyd, having you by his side when he wakes up is a 50/50 chance

Sometimes he gets up first, sometimes you get up first

So he's not exactly surprised waking up alone

What does catch his attention is the sweet smell of cinnamon in the air

He breathes it in deeply, wondering where it could be coming from at such an early hour

Eventually he gets up to investigate, and to his surprise (and delight) there are fresh-baked cinnamon rolls on the stovetop

And who but his lovely s/o mixing cream cheese icing on the counter?

He leans over the pan of rolls, wafting the smell into his nose

The sound startles you, but you smile when you realize it's only Lloyd

"Good morning."

"Morning. Did you make these?"

"No. A bipedal horse dropped them off."

"Har-har. Well, they smell fantastic, love."

He practically begs you to let him help spread the icing

You later realize that he really just wanted to lick the spoon... and the bowl

You eat the rolls informally as you sit on the counter, not bothering to use plates

Your hands end up stickier than the rolls themselves

Giving up on licking your fingers, you finally decide to go wash up

While getting ready, Lloyd clings close to you, expressing his abundant gratitude

"The rolls were so so so good. Just like you; you're so good to me. I love you."

Apparently your gesture got him feeling all mushy, because you ended up spending the rest of the morning curled up together watching TV on the couch, receiving sporadic kisses on your hands and head

Nya

Nya likes waking up early, but she doesn't like to disturb you

She'll immediately switch to stealth-mode when she wakes up, silently slipping out of bed and into the bathroom

She doesn't even notice that you're not in bed; she's too focused on being quiet

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, only to hear your voice:

"Hey, I made parfaits—"

"First Spinjitsu Master, Y/n!"

"Pfff—sorry, my flower! I didn't mean to scare you!"

If she wasn't awake before, she certainly was now

You decided to enjoy your yogurt parfaits while watching the sunrise

Spoon in one hand, Nya's hand in the other, you watched the sky grow brighter

Occasionally you would sneak a glance at your girlfriend, smiling to yourself at how beautiful she was, even after barely waking up

Little did you know she was doing the same

You continued to watch even after your parfaits were gone

Just as the sun peeked over the horizon, staining the sky a vibrant orange, you heard Nya say:

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She brought your hand to her mouth, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles

"The parfait was delicious. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Should we go get ready now?"

"Let's watch the sunrise for a little longer."

Thank you sweet anon for this marvelous request! And thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! <33

(divider by saradika)

304 notes · View notes

oleander-nin · 7 months

Text

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing(Yan! ROTTMNT x defiant reader)

A/N, not important: I just assumed 'dangerous' meant they fought back(aka, defiant). Also I wrote this in math class lmao. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: drugging(Donnie), kidnapping, manipulation, harm to reader, breaking bones, threatening nature, unconsentual touching(non-sexual), dark themes, abusive themes, food restriction/forced starvation as punishment, yandere themes

Words: 1244

Summary: The Yan ROTTMNT boys deal with a reader who's personality switches from sugary sweet to downright defiant.

Mikey:

He’s severely disappointed after he kidnaps you and you start to snap back. He tries to fall into his personas and talk it through with you, but gets severely frustrated at your pushback. He nearly cries when you try to hurt him.

He chains you to him, not wanting to be far from you. He’s convinced you’re just scared, and that you need reassurance. If you’re always with him, he can give it at a moment's notice.

He tries to win you over with food. You’re constantly fed your favorites and pampered to no end by him. Anything you want, he’ll try and get. He wants to bribe his way back into your heart, not seeing a single thing wrong with how he’s acting.

When you start to get heated, he pulls you close and wraps his chains around you to keep you from lashing out. He just situates you on the couch or his bed depending on where you both are and cuddles you until you calm down. He’ll make you sit with him for hours if he deems it necessary.

Freaks out everytime you try to hit him. He tries to convince himself it’s an accident for months. You’re so sweet, you would never do something like that to him. Once he realizes you’re lashing out and trying to hit him on purpose? He gets pissed.

He’ll strip you of all your old luxuries, taking away something you enjoy with every hit. Soon you’re not allowed any entertainment other than Mikey, being left with nothing to do but talk to him. He gives you less complicated meals, serving you the same thing he makes for the rest of his family instead of whatever you’re craving.

And if your anger still persists? He’ll tie you down and keep you isolated, only letting you see him and be in his room. He’ll break you down eventually, and he’s willing to wait.

Donnie:

Is completely unimpressed with your change in attitude. He treats you more as an unruly child than a person with valid feelings and wants. If you start complaining about a rule he set, he’ll just reexplain his reasons and shut you down when you argue. He’s the genius, he’s the one in the right.

Tries to keep you under check and placate you swiftly. He doesn’t want to deal with this version of you, he wants his love back. He’ll stop at nothing to get you back.

He’ll try setting up a reward system at first, wanting to not go straight into punishments. You’ve only been here for a few days, so he assumes you just don’t know better. He’ll reward what he deems as good behavior with sweets, time with him, or time doing your own thing. He wants to keep you happy and stimulated so you’ll appreciate him.

Drugs you the first time you try to fight him. He’ll experiment with different doses until he’s keeping you under some drug almost 24/7. If you won’t listen, he’ll just fix you himself. By keeping you too tired to fight back, he finds it much easier to hold you and love you. He’s able to keep you under his thumb fairly easily.

Takes you off the drugs once a week to see how much progress you made. If you’re still too much of a hassle, he’ll drug you again and wait a while. He doesn’t want to rush it.

Isn’t afraid to break a few fingers if you keep trying to fight. He’ll make you sick or break a leg once you get too unruly for his tastes. He’s not one to let bad behavior slide.

He’ll slowly work at making you calmer, trying to bring you back to your old personality. He loves you and is willing to work with you, wanting to bring you back to your old self. He isn’t going to lose you.

Raph:

He didn’t expect a thing. You were always so sweet, he was astonished when he saw how hard you were fighting him. Your constant punches and harsh words made him upset. He thought this would be a smooth transition, and he was harshly mistaken.

He tries so hard not to snap back. Seeing you fight him despite having almost no chance of winning was amusing at first, especially with your kind demeanor, but he can only take so much.

He’ll keep you tied and gagged in an attempt to keep the fighting down. He’ll pretend you’re fine, that you weren’t hurtling insults and curses at him just moments before.

If you actually get a hit on him, he’ll go quiet. He’ll throw you in his room and keep it locked, leaving you alone for hours on end. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but you make it so hard to hold himself back.

But if he loses his temper, and isn’t able to walk away? You’re going to find just how hard a genetically modified weapon of war can punch. He’ll probably break your arm by accident, not even noticing. He’ll grab you and yell, his grip getting tighter without him noticing. He doesn’t let go until you’re sobbing on the floor.

He really didn’t mean to hurt you, honest. Just listening to you tell him how much you hated him day after day made him snap. He can still take care of you, he just needs you to accept your place with him.

He’s constantly paranoid about you escaping. You’re too volatile to be trusted, so you’re either in his sight, or locked down tight. He’d be devastated to lose you. He just wants you to love him, and go back the way you were. You might want to hurry up though. Raph isn’t known for his patience.

Leo:

He knew it would happen and saw the signs. During his months of stalking, he saw how you got when you felt threatened or spited. He was prepared for the backlash when he took you. He was ready to smother the fire out.

He tries to give you a decent amount of leeway with your insults. He’s hurt you would say all these things, but he’s hoping if he shows he’s not a threat, you’ll calm down. Until you start fighting physically.

The first time you try to punch Leo, you're not allowed to eat for three days. He ties your arms behind your back and holds you close, squeezing tighter in warning every time you try to squirm away. He wants you to feel safe with him, but he refuses to let you steamroll over him. He’s ready to fight back.

If you ever get a good hit, or try to majorly harm him, he’ll break your hand. He’s tired of your resistance, and just wants you to love him. If you fearing him gives him an opening to your heart, he’ll jump for it. He’s not too picky about how you fall in love, just that you do.

Is constantly holding you or touching you. He’s treating you like a feral cat, trying to get you used to him by exposure. In his mind, you’re just frightened, so if he can get you used to him and his presence, you’ll soften back up.

Guilt trips and gaslights you to no end. He’s constantly telling you how he’s in the right, and that he’s only punishing you because of your behavior. He promises he’ll be sweeter once you do the same.

196 notes · View notes