#you remind me how much I don’t miss how things were last year lol

[cozage]

Omg what the heck 2k!?! I’m so happy for you like I remember when you started this blog some time ago, and you blew up fast 😭 also that era when you got shadow banned. I wanted to request the monster trio with option 1. So how about a meeting their S/O after the 2 year gap but they ended on argument so now what would they say after not seeing them for two years.

A/N:😭😭i forgot about the shadowbanned era omg. I almost stopped writing completely then. That was a CRAZY time. Thank you for reminding me of that LOL 

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy Total word count: 750

A Postponed Apology

Sanji

“My love! You’re safe!” Sanji tackled you, both of you falling to the ground entangled in one another. 

He pushed back the hair from your face and covered you with kisses in between his words. “You’re here! I missed you so much!”

“Sanji,” you laughed, trying to push him off. “You’re smothering me!”

“I’ll smother you forever!” He pressed his head against your chest, humming pleasantly as he listened to your heartbeat. “I’ll never leave your side ever again!”

Your fingers ran through his hair as tears filled your eyes. You hadn’t expected this reunion to go so smoothly. You had expected Sanji to never speak to you again, maybe even come back with a new crew member recruit. You wouldn’t have blamed him, not after all the horrible things you said to him. 

“You’re not mad?” you whispered softly, afraid your voice would betray you. 

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, still listening to your heart beat in your chest. “I’m just grateful you’re okay.”

“But our fight…” Tears spilled out of the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks.

“Our fight?” he asked, clearly confused. He pulled his head away from your chest to look you in the eyes, and you could see his soul shatter at the fact he was making you cry. 

“Do you mean the one from two years ago?” he asked. “Darling, don’t even worry about that. All that matters is that we are here together now, and I’m never letting you go again.”

Zoro

It took your eyes a second to adjust to the darkened room, but Zoro’s voice rang out. 

“So, you’re the second one to arrive, huh?”

You hadn’t expected Zoro to be there. He was always getting so lost, you had assumed it would be anyone but him. 

“Nobody else is here yet?” you asked, joining him at the bar. 

“Just you and me.”

Silence filled the air, the heaviness of your last conversation still weighing on your shoulders. 

“Zoro-”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “It was two years ago. It’s not a big deal.”

“No.” You shook your head, finally turning to look at him. “I should’ve never said those things. If I had known-”

“But you didn’t know.” He sighed, picking his beer up and taking a long drink. “Are you still upset about it? Do you even remember what we were fighting about?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then it doesn’t matter. We’re together now. Let’s make up for lost time instead, okay?”

You smiled, relieved at his words. He had never been one to hold a grudge. 

“Okay.”

Luffy

You kept your distance from Luffy until everyone went to sleep. It had been a long day full of emotions, and he was busy enough with his captain duties. The last thing you wanted to do was inconvenience him any further. 

“Sanji!” Luffy called, entering the kitchen. “I’m-oh! Hey!”

Your heart quickened at his voice. You weren’t ready to face him yet. Even if you knew you had to. 

“Hey Luffy,” you whispered. “Sanji went to bed, but he made this ice cream sundae. You want it?”

Luffy’s mouth grew into a big smile, his eyes growing wide. He grabbed a spoon and slid into the booth next to you. “You’re the best! You know that, right?” 

You gave an awkward laugh. “I guess we need to talk, huh?”

Luffy looked at you, a blank and confused look on his face. “Talk about what?”

It was hard to look at him, but you forced yourself to. “Our last conversation?”

He was trying to remember, you could see his brain going into overdrive as he recalled your last moments together on Sabaody. Finally, he shrugged and shoveled a scoop of ice cream into his mouth. 

“I don’t remember our last conversation,” he admitted. 

You raised an eyebrow. “The fight? Because if you want to break up-”

“Why would I want to break up with you?” Luffy asked. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Well, I said some pretty harsh things, Lu.”

He knitted his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember. For a minute you watched him, and you could’ve sworn steam was coming out of his ears. But he shook his head. “Sorry, I don't remember that at all.”

You laughed. You should be surprised or offended. But that was just Luffy. “So we’re good?” you asked.

“Of course,” he said, offering you a bite. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #luffy #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #cozage #✧˚sanji✧˚ #✧˚zoro✧˚ #✧˚ luffy✧˚

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

just some random prompts (up to you how you'll use it or not lol):

Din Djarin x forcesensitive/jedi!reader

Reader actually understands Mando'a, got flustered when Din calls her cyarika, mesh'la (maybe have the reader respond in Mando'a too and let's see how it goes from there)

Reader is some masked vigilante of some sort and has a bounty on her head, Din Djarin unmasked her during a fight and turns out she was also reported missing few years ago by her family (maybe make reader a noble-blood to sprinkle some drama)

I recommend the song Close to You by Neon Trees, maybe it's just me but it reminds me of your Din Djarin x Reader drabbles hehe

also, I love your writing so muuuuch. xx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild start to something smutty if you squint lol

Word Count: 1,049 (damn it i was so close to under 1k)

LANGUAGE BARRIER

a/n: i have din djarin brain rot smh. also, ngl, i did not proof read this with the intensity i usually try to so🤷🏻‍♀️ OH AND HEY IF YOU HAVEN'T VOTED IN MY POLL YET GO DO SO, IT'S ON MY MASTERLIST.

Mando’a was an interesting language. It was different. That’s what initially drew you to it. Unlike the other languages you studied, Mando’a texts were hard to find. For a while, you had to make do with just scraps of information. That almost made learning it so much more satisfying though. Then, while at University, you met an elder who had grown up adopted by Mandalorians. He had never taken the Creed, drifted away from the culture, but not without becoming fluent in Mando’a. He was the reason the holes in your education were filled, and that meant he was also the reason you could enjoy Din Djarin’s mumbling.

Over the year you traveled with him, he became more and more comfortable with your presence⏤ at least, that’s what you assumed the reasoning was for him becoming more vocal. They were little statements at first. Din would be clearing out his weapon locker, run into a problem, and spit out a string of curses. Peli had once told him that the Razor Crest would be grounded for at least a week and you hung onto every word of Mando’a of the rant he spiraled into about the last quarry who had caused the damage. You had planned on telling him you knew Mando’a⏤ you were going to casually mention it.

Then, he called you mesh’la.

A nickname you hadn’t expected.

Din had a habit of using a lot of nicknames that you’d never expect from him. Cyar’ika. Ner sarad. Cyare. Senaar’ika. Each new, adoring nickname would bring warmth to your face, but you had missed the normal window of opportunity to mention to him that you spoke his language. Especially when, in a panic, he had referred to you as ‘cyar’ika’ for the first time and you asked him what it meant. Din had answered in a simple way, giving you the definition without missing a beat, as if it were a casual thing. For a while, you thought that meant there was no significant weight behind those words.

Your theory of the nicknames just being for fun was shot in the face when you nearly got shot yourself. While out in a city, you had gotten caught in the crossfire. The quarry himself had spotted you and with a sickening grin turned to put you down. Luckily, he had missed⏤ it only clipped you in the arm⏤ but the rampage that Din had gone into was shocking. Not nearly as shocking as when you heard him speak to the quarry after pummeling his face beyond recognition: ‘I’ll bring you in cold for that, bastard. I don’t show mercy to those who target what’s mine’. For the rest of the night, you convinced yourself that it wasn’t what you thought. Sure, the two of you shared lingering touches and the tension had grown since you came aboard, but it had to be something else. 

Weeks later, while waiting in a cantina for Din to return from obtaining new pucks, a Twi’lek man had saddled up beside you. Despite making it clear you had no interest, the man continued to invade your space. That is, until Din stepped up to your other side and pulled you into his side. The Twi’lek had abandoned his goal very quickly and the words that left Din’s lips stayed with you for weeks on end. ‘Should've known better than to leave someone as beautiful as you alone at the bar’. Still, no matter how badly you wanted to just jump him, you convinced yourself he didn’t want you. He was a friend. That was all.

Until seconds ago. You sat on one of the crates in the Razor Crest’s cargo hold as Din applied a bacta patch to the claw marks across your calf. A run in with a Trandoshan gone wrong. He had pulled off his gloves to provide the care, not something out of the ordinary, but the feel of his fingertips against your skin was not a sensation you’d ever get used to. Din set his entire hand against the upper half of your calf and his thumb caressed the skin there. Without looking up, he murmured, “I will know you forever.”

You fully understood the weight of his words. Din rose to stand and began to walk away to put away the first aid kit. The words fell out of your mouth before you could consider any of the consequences, “I can speak Mando’a, and I am so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier but I panicked.” In the most uncharacteristic move you had seen from him, Din tripped over some of the gear he had been passing in the rush to spin and look back at you. The Mandalorian caught himself before he could do more than stumble. You offered him a sheepish smile, “Sorry. Again.”

“You speak Mando’a?” Din asked in his language. 

“A little.” You nodded then shook your head. “Actually, a lot. I’m⏤ I’m fluent.”

“This entire time?” Din slowly crept back towards you. You nodded. He continued on until he stood between your legs. Din’s hands settled on his hip and you were forced to lean back a bit to keep your nose from being pressed against his chest.

You scrunched your nose in concern, “Are you mad?”

“No. Of course not, my love.” Din replied, his voice low. Din’s bare hand lifted to cup the side of your face. His thumb caressing the side of it. Din pressed in closer again so you were forced to tilt your head up to meet his hidden gaze as he stared down at you. His touch trailed away from your cheek, and he let the pad of his thumb ghost over the outline of your lips⏤ your breath hitched in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest. Din pressed his thumb against your already parted lips more firmly, the tip of it brushing against your tongue, before he dragged it down further to open your mouth even wider. “But you are in trouble. Are you going to accept your punishment with grace?” Your lips twitched up in a smile as an ache of desire ran down your spine and straight to your core. You leaned in just enough to fully wrap your lips around his thumb. Din chuckled. “Good girl.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic

[seredelgi]

Sweet Punishment- pt.2

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Dom!Levi Ackerman x Sub!Fem!Reader, Levi Ackerman x You

summary: After Eren gets entrusted to Levi, you have a hard time adjusting to his late shifts and his change of behavior. You miss his touch and you miss the sex, but you want to be a good girl for him, so you try your hardest to repress your urges, until he busts you.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: dom!levi, dom!levi, sub!reader, smut, sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don't try it at home lol), penetration, vulgar language, brief choking, degradation, dry humping (even though it's not very dry, if u know what i mean), praise kink, just a tiny bit, spit kink, I'm so sorry, but he turns me insane NO SPOILERS

word count: 3.5 k

a/n: ok so this was born bc I'm so not done with this man, and also I had a need to depict smut with him in that freaking white tee he's got on in s3 so yeah, enjoy.

Part 1

He’s been so stressed out lately. Things have changed a lot since Eren has turned out to be a Titan Shifter and has been entrusted to him. Levi comes back home so much later, so much more tired than he used to. You miss him like crazy, but you don’t wanna be a burden, too. He’s got so much in his mind, the last thing he needs is you acting like a baby and demanding more time from him.

This is what you get for being a soldier’s woman, after all. You knew this was part of it, you were already lucky enough to be with him regardless of his position. When you two met years ago he was cold, he was indifferent. It took months for him to admit that it was a facade, put up so that he wouldn’t get too attached. He ended up catching feelings anyway, and at that point, it was “better to keep you close and be able to protect you”- in his own words.

He likes his job. You know it and try to respect it, but you feel him slipping away recently, you feel him so distant and you really need him to make you feel loved. You miss his touch, his kisses, you miss being fucked. It’s been a while since you two last had sex, and being that the last time you tried to pleasure yourself you got taught a lesson, you were practically abstinent in every way. You spent endless days thinking about him, and you dreamed about sex practically every night.

But you can’t think to burden him with your flimsy desires when he’s got the fate of your people dawning down on his shoulders.

When he opens the door of the room that late evening he looks no different than he has in the last few weeks: cold, distant, absolutely worn out. He’s just got out of the shower, and he’s got that long-sleeved white t-shirt on that you love so much, but his black uniform trousers remind you that right now he doesn’t belong to you. You can see it in his eyes, two dark slits, probably still reliving the events of that day.

You’re on your bed, reading a new book as you wait for the oven alarm to go off. You’re starving, and by the looks of it, he is too.

He drags himself onto the bed, and you take a look at him while he takes hold of your book by the spine and closes it shut with one hand, putting it aside and crawling lazily on top of you, his face cradled in the curve of your neck, he huffs softly upon your skin.

It’s been a while since he’s dared to be this intimate with you, and even before that, he’s never allowed that to himself very often, always keeping everything inside, never asking for much. That’s what drove you to shut the hell up about your needs, you didn’t want him to think you’re weak.

You’re caught off guard by this sudden closeness, and you hum quietly into the silence that’s comfortingly surrounding you two right now. Your heart starts to pound a bit faster, but as he sweeps his hands underneath your shoulders to keep you closer you start to relax into his embrace. Who knows how long it’s gonna last, you better enjoy it.

You feel him breathe in your scent, and the kind of noise that he lets go after that takes your breath away and has your thighs squeeze together.

Keep it together, he’s just freaking tired.

“ You smell amazing” he purrs on your warm skin, sending shivers running down your spine as his fingers press ever so tenderly into your delicate flesh.

You chuckle nervously as you try not to focus on how low and husky his voice sounds right now, on how you can feel it reverberate from his chest through yours. He’s so warm, and that fucking white tee he’s got on is just too comfy not to feel the need to hold onto it desperately as you try to refrain from letting you get carried away with all of this.

“ You smell like you had to bark orders all day” you retort, keeping the conversation light even while you know the scent he’s emanating right now is enough to drive you wild.

“ Mhmm” he softly asserts, and his voice is so quiet that you think he’s probably dozing off, before you feel his delicate kiss pressing down on your shoulder, and you open your eyes wide.

It’s a chaste kiss, soft and gentle, and yet it gets your insides in a twirl to feel him press his lips on you while you’re wrapped against his body.

You hadn’t quite grasped how starved you were for him before realizing that one little kiss was enough to set your skin ablaze and have the cozy warmth in your lower abdomen starting to spread. It has never been that fast for you, never that immediate. You usually need some time to get in the right mood or some warming up to get ready. But right now you’re burning hot and desperate for him to keep touching and kissing you like that.

You can’t say that out loud tho, can’t be the whiny little girl that cries for attention as soon as she stops receiving it for a moment too long.

It doesn’t really matter tho, because just as his fingers press harder into your flesh he leaves another quiet kiss on it, and this time you can’t help but audibly moan, the sudden break of that cage of silence so unnerving that you bite your bottom lip, harshly dipping your teeth down on it as some sort of punishment for caving in so easily.

He pops his head up slowly, a kind of stunned expression painting his beautiful features. You feel your cheeks start to warm up underneath his scrutiny, his eyes finding yours big and full of lust.

“ You like this” he states.

You can’t tell if he’s amused by it. A few weeks prior you would’ve been sure that having you being ready for him so easily would’ve sent a proud spark glinting in his eyes, but right now his expression is as cold as it’s been all these past days spent longing for him, and you’re quite sure he must be kind of disappointed.

You shake your head no tentatively, wondering if you could ever look remotely believable as you find yourself hoping for.

His eyes narrow down on your features, on the crimson red of your cheeks, and your heavy breathing. Yeah, Levi might be tired, but he’s certainly not stupid.

He props up on his left hand anyway, letting his right one slowly slide underneath the sheer fabric of your sundress, along the length of your thigh, eliciting another soft whimper from you, and you feel so ashamed that you cover your mouth with your arm, your eyes languid with denial.

“ Then why you mewling like a cat in heat?” he sounds so stern that he almost feels displeased with you, and it kind of hurts to hear him talk to you like that.

Still, you feel the disconcerting need to be strong for him, to be good.

“ I’m just-” you pant, regaining focus, even though all that you really want is for his hand to travel further up your thigh “ a bit sensitive, must be the cycle”

You’re lying. You’re probably in the least fertile phase of it, but you can’t help it, you miss him too much, and having been forbidden to touch yourself, it’s been torture to resist the urges.

You doubt he’s bought it, yet his face is an inscrutable mask right now, and he looks down at you for a few more instants before he suddenly gets a hold of your wrists, pinning them down the mattress without much effort as you catch your breath.

He stares you down as if you were his prey, and honestly, too dizzy with arousal, too scared of letting him know the shameful truth of it, you’re less and less able to decipher his emotions, and somehow this only feeds your desire.

“ Spread your legs for me, then” he orders.

You hate to disobey him, but you’re too embarrassed of yourself to give him access to your sweet spot right now since you're sure he’s gonna find it already covered in your juices.

A glint of annoyance darkens his irises when you fail to comply. He huffs, his right knee slipping abruptly in between yours two, having you divaricating your legs wide within a few rough movements.

You muffle a protest, but it dies in your throat immediately as one of his hands lets go of your wrist and heads south, escaping underneath the skirt of your dress and reaching for your baby pink panties, feeling you out roughly through its fabric, finding it drenched.

“ Fuck-” his voice sounds hoarse from the shock of finding you like that already “ You’ve made a fucking mess”

You let out a quiet sob as you appraise his reaction, covering your eyes with the hand of yours he hasn’t gotten pinned down on the mattress anymore.

“ I’m sorry” you let out a shaky breath, unable to keep it all in any longer “ I’m sorry Levi, I just miss you so much”

You’ve held onto all that for weeks as he’s been burdening himself with who knows how much, and now it’s enough for him to touch you through your underwear to have you crumble like that. It’s kind of pathetic.

He stays quiet for a while, and you can only wonder what his face looks like as you keep your eyes shut against the back of your hand, not ready to see his harsh judgment of your weakness.

Then you feel his grip on your wrist loosen, and all his coldness and forcefulness melt into tender little kisses that he leaves down your neck as he reaches for your ear. He looks for your hand, sliding his fingers across the length of your arm and intertwining them with your own.

He uncovers your face to look at you, his expression still stern, but it doesn’t quite look like he’s judging you, more so than himself. You can see the cloud of guilt thundering in his eyes.

His lips are just a breath away from yours when he whispers down upon you:

“ Don’t cry” his tone is definitive, something like that, even if incredibly sweet, when said by him sounds like a precise instruction.

You sniff softly one last time before his lips press tenderly against yours.

He starts kissing you slowly, experimentally, giving you all the time you need to adjust from the previous harshness that he had addressed you to the sweetness that he’s promising you now. And even if reticent at first, you gradually start to melt against him, the feeling of his tongue slipping past your lips a welcomed revelation, one that you feel like saluting by filling his mouth with moans as he sets gently between your legs, his hardness aching against your core.

Gosh, you’ve missed this. You love the taste of him in your mouth so much that it’s almost exhilarating, the way he deepens the kiss at every little whimper you let out, the way your lips are glossy with his saliva when you part to catch your breath and ghost a little impulsive smile on his face.

You can’t help it now, you’re too high on the kiss he’s granted you, and you let your hips lounge up towards his, rutting softly against his erection, your fingers twisting in his locks, and you feel a blissful shiver cover you whole as he breaks the kiss to groan on your parted lips.

You want him so bad you feel like you’re losing control, and you love when he can’t help but be vocal about his arousal, so you’re compelled to continue grinding against him rhythmically, having him elicit all kinds of delicious noises on top of you as he kisses your lips with increasing passion.

Suddenly his right hand is at the base of your scalp, tugging harshly at your hair to have your head lean back enough to give himself better access to your exposed neck.

“ So fucking desperate ” he pants upon your skin “ how long have you been like this?”

“ Too long” you whine as you feel his lips tauntingly ghost above all the sensitive spots he knows so well, biting you tenderly at first, then starting to suck on your skin with euphoric compulsion. It’s the kind of sweet agony that has you sigh ecstatically and arch your back in response, the satisfaction of feeling his mark being imprinted upon you one that you find hard to rival.

When he’s done he leaves your neck pulsing in delight, and he starts grinding against you fiercely as his forehead comes to rest against yours.

“ Been waiting for me to set you free, huh?”

You nod faintly at that, eyes fluttering underneath the weight of your thriving desire, and you kiss his humid lips before looking for the zip of his black trousers, tired of having all those layers interpose between your sexes. You wanna feel his throbbing skin against your hole, wanna hear your juices mix as he rides you.

“ Such a good girl” he praises you, and that’s just too much.

As soon as his cock’s free of his boxers you press him down against you with a tug, his nakedness clashing down the wetness of your panties. He grunts, closing his eyes, reveling in the feeling of your drenched underwear starting to surround his hotness. The simple shift of pressure makes you roll your eyes, and he reaches for your jaw with his right hand to press his thumb on your lips, silently demanding access to your mouth. You open it up right away, and he slips inside, letting you suck on his finger once and then brushing your bottom lip downwards with it, keeping your mouth open beneath him.

“ Wider” he commands, and it’s so clear by the tone of his voice that he’s used to imparting orders, so confident in expecting them to be followed. And you sure as hell don’t wanna disappoint him.

So you open your mouth wider for him, sticking your tongue out as he continues riding you, your juices starting to soak your panties, creating enough lubrification for you to start getting extremely close to your relief.

“ My good girl” he hums quietly, and seeing him genuinely pleased with you puts your mind at ease. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you’d comply with anything he asks of you just so that he’ll utter those quiet little praises to you.

He spits in your mouth, and you’re honestly taken aback for a split second. You wouldn’t expect someone as composed as him to do something so raw just like that. But as soon as you feel the warm liquid on your tongue you’re quick to swallow what you manage, driven by your desire to make him proud. Some of it is still drooling down your bottom lip tho, and his eyes shimmer down on it, relishing in the sight of you, broken by the growing pleasure, completely at his mercy.

“ Fuck- You’re too hot like that” he breaths down upon you as he reaches between you two, looking for the spot where your panties are becoming so damn wet that you should probably feel embarrassed, but you’re way past that. Especially when you feel his erratic movements finally setting your pussy free, moving the fabric that was still covering it to the side just enough that you can feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, hot and covered in pre-cum.

“ Ah-” you cry as you feel him finally pushing against your hole, every nerve ending of yours waiting for him to pierce through you and finally take you.

He slides inside of you with a gentleness that almost kills you, and you can quite literally feel every inch of his length fill your soaked pussy up like you’ve been dreaming about for days. You wanna feel him pick up the pace and quite simply ruin your cunt for good, but all it takes is one thrust of his inside of you, a simple gentle rub of his pelvis against your clit to bring you over the edge.

You start shuddering frantically against him, gripping at his shirt and crying his name so loud that you’re sure the walls could be shaking from it. You kiss his neck through your high, needing to feel him hiss against your ear in response, to bask in his scent, and to feel the flex of his muscles against your hot lips.

“ What's th- fucking 'cumming already?” he lets out, his voice broken by the shock of your pre-empted release “ my God, you're pathetic"

You nod dully, rolling your eyes as little jolts of pleasure unleash throughout your whole body, having you spasming silently against his torso as he picks up the pace, driven mad by the unexpected hunger that your orgasm has unleashed within him.

He’s thrusting so deep inside of you that you feel like he could break you in half, and yet you can’t stop moaning, can’t stop telling him how damn good he’s making you feel.

“ You’re so good at taking it-fuck” he resumes kissing your neck and biting you hard, leaving you sore and aching for more “ you’re made for this, made for me”

The idea has you rejoice, a proud kind of sentiment starting to engulf you as he smacks harder against your cervix, hitting that spot that has you babbling incoherently underneath his weight.

All that you’re feeling is thanks to your patience, you’ve been good and waited for him, and you’d do it for years if it meant being fucked like this was the prize.

You can’t help but nod, your head bobbing up and down under the heel of the merciless pace he’s been keeping up so steadily. You can practically feel every ounce of the frustration he’s held within him in the past few days being reversed in each thrust of his, in every grunt and spasm of his muscles as he pounds into you, and you’re so glad to be the one he vents upon.

You can feel him getting closer. He’s frantic, panting down on you, shoving inside of you with such force that you can’t even think straight anymore, the feeling of your aching pussy squeezing his cock inside of you the only thing you can focus on.

He rises above you to be able to get a hold of your neck, tightening his hand around your throat to make you look at him. You can’t think about what you may look like right now as you stare back into those dark grey irises you love so much. It’s too fucking embarrassing what this man is capable of reducing you to.

“ I’m gonna ‘cum inside of you”

It’s not a warning, it’s a statement.

You shift your weight back slightly to be able to open your legs wider as a reflex, eager to feel him finally releasing into you, but he grips your hips and dips his fingers harder into you, almost bruising your skin in the act.

“ Don’t- fuck, don’t move” he demands.

You don’t need to be told twice, so you stay put, looking up at him and contemplating the sight.

You love seeing him like this, sweaty and broken by pleasure, strands of soft raven hair cascading down his forehead, his shirt revealing just the faintest little hint of his muscles flexing underneath its clean fabric.

But his eyes are what you love the most, the kind of glare that can go from pure sweetness to downright threatening in a matter of seconds. Dark and dangerous.

You see them faltering before you hear his groans swamp the room and his warm seed spring into you, filling you up like you’ve longed so bad for these past few weeks, finally getting the love you were so badly burning for.

He crushes down upon you, a sudden need to feel you as close as possible, to have you press your usual gentle kisses across his face, on his lips, all while he holds you close and slowly regains his breath and usual composure.

When he slips out of you you feel your legs shake a little and you know you’ll need a full night of rest to recover from what he’s done to you, but it doesn’t really matter, ‘cause it was worth it.

He collapses aside from you, taking hold of your wrist and tugging you along to rest on top of him without saying a word. You chuckle faintly against his neck, not able to resist relishing this intimate feeling. You’ve finally got him all for yourself.

Until you hear the oven alarm go off.

#levi #levi ackerman #yet again #sorry #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #smut #imagine #female reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #spoiler free zone #dom!levi

[scribblewrites]

Just be with me

Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader hurt/comfort

this is my first time writing so don’t expect much

this is very much just me projecting lol. Reader feels like crap, Bakugou comforts them. He might be a bit ooc

TW: mentions of SH, Reader has anxiety/breakdown and is overall feeling bad

take care of yourselves! ♥

— Bakugou sat in the common area as the smell of the class's dinner (now slightly burnt thanks to Kaminari setting the oven wrong) filled the air. He disinterestedly scrolled his phone, occasionally listening to the extras complaining about how hard Aizawa sensei had pushed them in training. A scoff was thrown in here and there from Bakugou’s place on the couch.

Motioning to get up and start yelling at Kaminari for ruining dinner, Bakugou stopped as his phone went off with a flurry of texts. Grunting, he opened his phone again

“Tch, what the hell is it now”

——————————Y/N——————————

7:14 PM -hey

7:14 PM-can you come to my dorm?

7:16 PM -soon, please

He stared at his phone, worry slowly forming on his face. Now that he thought about it, y/n hadn’t joined the rest of the extras after class like they normally do. They hadn’t been roaming the kitchen impatiently waiting for dinner like normal either. Suddenly their absence became increasingly prevalent in his mind. He noticed a slight change in their behavior the past few days but chalked it up to the stress of upcoming exams the whole class was experiencing.

“I’ll be back, gotta grab somethin’ from my room” Bakugou hurriedly walked towards the elevators before anyone could say something.

—Reader’s POV—

You were sitting crisscross on your bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of you desperately trying to control your breathing. The stupid overwhelming feeling in your chest sat heavy as you silently willed tears, sobs, anything to escape. Anxiety weighed you down the past couple of days. Ignoring it didn't work like you hoped, resulting now in the panic and shame suffocating you.

What the hell is wrong with me?

The sting of your outer thighs began to feel more and more intense. They were scratched to hell, red marks swelling slightly in the tracks of your nails. Small cuts were littered among the scratches. Not deep enough to cause any real damage or scar, but enough to now sit as an ugly reminder of your outburst mere minutes ago.

“Ughh, why did I text him” you groaned, pressing your palms into your eyes and laying back.

It’s stupid. You just didn’t want to be alone now. it hasn’t been this bad in months, shit maybe years. Over the weekend it got progressively worse and now you’re stuck, feeling somewhere in between numbness and regret.

knock knock

The harshness of the fist on your door gave away who was there. Slowly sitting up and letting out a shaky sigh you called him in.

“It’s open.” the door quickly swung open and shut as Bakugou stormed towards you.

“What the hell is up with your ominous ass texts? You’ve been actin’ weird all day and it’s throwing me off” It only took him a few strides to cross over in front of your bed.

He looked you up and down, finally analyzing your face after his rough entrance. His face shifted slightly after he saw the dullness in your eyes and the state of your legs. The normal disinterested look on his face remained, but you didn’t miss the subtle softening in his eyebrows or the concern growing in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“hey, too you too Katsuki” The half-hearted jab fell weakly from your lips.

“Shit. Um, I could-- do you want me to"

“No.” you interrupted his awkward attempt at figuring out what to do. “I don’t want you to do anything. Last thing I need right now is someone judging me or trying to fix this.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you got your request out.

“just— just be with me.”

He paused briefly, clearly searching for a response. "Tch, yeah…I can do that.”

He shuffled a bit, pulling his hands out of his pockets and crossing towards you. A sigh of relief left you as you realized he wouldn’t judge you. He didn’t try and spew fake comfort, instead, he shoved you to make room on the bed. Reaching for your laptop, he settled in next to you and scrolled through YouTube.

After a few hours of watching dumb reactions and video essays, you melted into his side. At some point, you felt his rough hand lightly rubbing your arm. Sleep was creeping over you as your eyes burned from the bright screen. Picking up your phone, you registered that it was almost 11 pm. Katsuki would’ve normally been asleep hours ago.

“It’s past your bedtime old man” you joked as you shoved the time in his face.

“I’m not the one starting to snore, dumbass” he nudged your side with no real bite to his words.

“Rude!” you chuckled and weakly shoved him back in retaliation. Settling back into his side, sleep was finally winning. Before drifting off, you whispered almost inaudibly,

“Thanks ‘Tsuki”

you began lightly snoring before he responded, his head dipping to softly kiss your head.

“G'night, y/n”

hope y’all enjoyed this! pls leave any feedback, this is my first time writing anything like this and I’d love to improve ♥

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #mha bakugou #mha fic #bakugou katsuki #tw sh related #hurt/comfort #tw self h4rm #gn reader

[ellielatinagf]

“Your hairs getting long”

Summary: Let’s pretend Dina, Ellie, and JJ are living happily ever after in Jackson:) Ellie and Dina exchanging conversations and a nice haircut for Ellie

An: believe me I’m working on Lacrosse ellie part 5 and I think part five will be the last chapter I just wanna figure out how I wanna end it LOL. This is a little bit of both Dina and Ellie’s pov. Enjoy:)

Warnings: angst????

*knock knock knock*

Dina slowly opened the door and peeped her head in the small room. Ellie whipped her head around to meet Dina’s gaze. Her expression softened when she saw those brown eyes. The same ones that light up her world, the ones that shine light in the darkness. Dina walked over to her now wife. Yup, wife. After Ellie got back from California of course Dina had to smack some sense into Ellie.

Flashback

“Are you hurt?” Dina squeeked softly. She held JJ in her arms. JJ was was already getting bigger. His hair was longer too. Thankfully Mr. Robinson, the Jackson Barber, had been patient in giving the little boy a haircut. Bless the poor man his eyesight has gotten a bit worse.

Ellie shook her head. She was too ashamed to look up at Dina. Much less look at JJ. She couldn’t bear the sight of seeing him more grown up. It would remind her of how much she had missed. The pain she would feel knowing he probably doesn’t remember her is unbearable.

Dina placed JJ don’t in front of her feet. She didn’t know why. She was so over flooded with emotions. Anger, sadness, relief. They all took stabs at her heart at the same time. JJ looked up at Dina confused but the looked at the sunburnt, green eyed, auburn woman.

Now Ellie was forced to look at the child. Her eyes weld up. His hair was longer. And choppily cut too. It wasn’t Dina who’d cut his hair, Dina does a better job. He resembled Jesse. Her heart ache. Her mind flooded with pictures of her last moment with the child’s father. She took a deep breath. Ellie opened her hand to reveal a small toy elephant. Ollie. She’d won it at the Jackson festival so long ago and had kept it. She remembered how JJ used to sleep with it at night.

JJ looked at what was in this mysterious woman’s hand. He smiled and waddled towards her. The blue dusty color caught his attention and likeness. He touched Ellie’s hand and look at Dina for approval of the toy. Dina hesitated but nodded slightly. JJ let out a happy chuckle and took the blue elephant. Ellie couldn’t help but smile.

Dina slowly walked forward. Maybe this was a dream. The same dream she’d had for the last year. Ellie in front of her. Ellie’s dead. This isn’t real. Her mind is playing tricks on her again. It often does this. When she is putting JJ to sleep she’ll think she caught a glimpse of Ellie’s figure in the shadow. This is the same thing.

*Smack*

Not exactly how she planned to prove the realness of the situation. Ellie winced. She knew she’d deserved it. To be honest she deserved worse. She would have preferred Dina slap her 100 times than to remind her of how much she had screwed up.

Dina looked at the hand print mark on Ellie’s cheek. The damage was worse due to her horrible sunburn. Dina looked around for JJ. Now she wonders if she had made a mistake to smack Ellie in front of Jj. She catches the boys rowdy hair and looks in his area. He was playing with a random street dog. Clutching Ollie in his little chubby fingers. Dina sighed and looked back at Ellie.

Ellie looked at Dina with teary eyes. Dina noticed something different in them thought. They weren’t the same dead eyes she used to have. They weren’t dull. They were bright and glossy. And not just because Ellie was crying a tsunami.

“I know” Ellie whispers “I know nothing will ever make you love me again”. She sniffs her nose so she can make out more words. “I know than no amount of apologies will ever be forgiven from me”.

Dina felt sadness hit her.

“But I love you”

That was it for her. Dina cried. Hard. She threw her arms around Ellie. She finally felt it again. She felt that same bubbly feeling in her heart. She doesn’t want to admit it’s love at the moment. But she feels it. Ellie took the girl in her arms and held her. She held Dina and wouldn’t let go. She secretly promised to never let her go.

After that day Ellie agreed to stay in Joel’s house. She wanted to give Dina and JJ time to create that bond with her. She didn’t want to force herself in their lives. She slowly started seeing Dina more and more. And JJ loved playing with Ellie. Ellie always said ‘I love you’ to Dina. Even if Dina never said it she knew that with time, she would.

JJ loved Ellie of course. And if wasn’t because of the fact that she always brought him something after patrols. One day ellie found something that caught her eye. A shiny diamond. It had already been 2 years since she saw Dina again. Dina always invites ellie over and Dina had been saying ‘I love you’. It’s time.

That night after JJ got his presents Ellie bent down on one knee in front of Dina. Part of her was thinking it’s too soon and was about to fake tie her shoes. But she asked Dina and showed the ring. Dina was over joyed and cried if happiness. She couldn’t have said yes any faster.

Flashback end

“JJ sleep okay?” Ellie asked.

“For a six year old, he was okay” Dina replied. She bent her head down to kiss Ellie’s forehead.

“Are you gonna head to bed?” Ellie asked. She looked at the canvas in front of her. She wanted to do a still life drawing of bowl of fruit. Was it cliché? Maybe, but she wanted to improve her art.

“Once you do” Dina said. She looked at the auburn hair. It was long. Probably an inch or two below Ellie’s mid neck. “Your hairs getting long” Dina thought out loud.

“Wanted to ask if you’d cut it for me” Ellie hummed softly and looked at Dina.

“Not Mr. Robinson?” Dina asked resting her head on Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie groaned quietly and Dina chuckled. Dina got up and grabbed a pair of scissors and a comb. Ellie put down her art supplies. She could finish tomorrow. Dina started to part Ellie’s hair and began cutting.

“Can I take JJ hunting?” Ellie asked.

“Don’t you think he’s a little too young?” Dina answered nervously.

“I only wanted to take him to the chicken field” Ellie asked. She didn’t want to throw the boy in the forest with clickers and wild boars. She probably would be hesitant for him to go out there even if he was 30 years old.

“The one in Jackson right? By Tommy’s house?”

“Mhm” ellie confirmed.

“….okay” Dina approved “but if either of you get so much as a paper cut, we’re getting food from the market for a year”. Ellie chuckled.

“You have my word babe” Ellie smiled.

“Are You scheduled for patrol this weekend?” Dina asked.

“Yeah, you need something?” Ellie asked.

“Do you think you can find some more shoes? His old ones will grow out soon” Dina said.

“That’s what happened when you feed him so much” Ellie chuckled.

“He’s a growing boy” Dina rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault he liked my cooking”.

“Can’t blame him for that. Unless it’s pasta.” Ellie chuckled. She smiled after she took a jab Dina by mentioning at the time Dina had burnt pasta sauce and let the water boil so much it overflowed. It wasn’t entirely her fault. In a way. Dina just took a nap.

“Don’t piss off the one with the scissors” Dina replied playfully tugging Ellie’s hair. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to prove her point.

“Still ate it” Ellie laughed.

“That’s what she said” Dina replied. Hanging around Ellie so much was severely effecting Dina’s humor.

After Dina finished with Ellie’s haircut they both had taken a shower together. Ellie laid in bed next to Dina and faced her. The two shared a kiss and locked eyes.

“I love you” Ellie said. Dina felt happy. Ellie had never been one to say I love you first. Not in a serious way that is. After she came back however, it’s like her motivation had changed. And Dina was glad that Ellie’s family is her priory.

“I love you too” Dina replied. Ellie sighed. The feelings of immense love was reciprocated. Everything was okay. Finally, she was at peace. She could breath again. Ellie could sit and stay in her mind and not feel herself be destroyed. She could stay like this forever.

Ahhhh thank you so much reading!!! Let me know if you enjoyed it! I loveeeee writing one shots and as much as I love writing Ellie x reader! I just Love writing Ellie x Dina! Uhhh not proofread.Have a great day and remember your all amazing! Free Palestine 🇵🇸

Taglists: @bready101 @vqxen @gato-chino @vampyangel @a-little-bit-of-everybody @abbysbraids @Lillylynne11 @Lively-blues @Yurixxiii

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #ellie x dina #dina tlou #dina woodward #dina the last of us #dina x ellie

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Remus lupin x reader

Maybe they see each other at a party after not seeing each other all summer and they end up either kissing or talking all night or both or more its up to you :)

hi, anon! so sorry this took me forever to write! i really liked the idea and wanted to write a full fic but had not had time. i don’t know why it turned so angsty lol but i hope you like it, and feel free to request something fluffier if you wanted that! 

pairing: Remus x reader 

summary: You reunite with Remus for the first time since he rejected you months ago, but perhaps there was more to be said.

tags: friends to lovers-ish, fluffy angst

word count: 2.3k

You’d know that head of hair anywhere. Your stomach lurched as you walked further into the room, the party starting to pick up to full force. His back was turned to you so you couldn’t see his lovely face, but his height and his messy brown locks that you just wanted to run your fingers through were impossible to miss. Remus. Your Remus… No, not your Remus, you had to remind yourself. Remus that you were impossibly in love with. Remus that you had spent every morning after a full moon comforting since you’d found out about his furry little problem. Remus that had rejected you almost three months ago just before the summer, the last time you’d seen him. Now, here you were, at a party you didn’t even want to come to in the first place, dragged lovingly by Lily who said you moped at home too often. She was right, of course, but you loved moping at home, and why put such a limit on doing the things you love? 

You’d been friends with Remus for years before telling him about your feelings. Those feelings had started almost as soon as you’d met him and just grown from there as you got to know him. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, always thought it a bit superficial, a thing for movies that didn’t want to take the time to develop full characters. But with Remus it had been pretty damn close. But to you, it had been very far from superficial, you loved him upon seeing him because of everything his appearance told you about him. 

The way he didn’t seem to put too much effort into his appearance, his hair messy, his clothes casual. You loved his jumpers, the way they looked on him so attractive and the idea of wearing one of them with his smell still clinging to it so enticing. You loved the way he looked as though somehow he was simultaneously completely in his own world, in his own head, but at the same time observant and sensitive to the world around him. This wouldn’t have seemed to you something you could tell just from looking at a person, but looking at Remus, really looking, you felt you could see into his soul. His mesmerizing brown eyes told you so much. When he was reading,  as they scrolled across page after page, you wished desperately that you could see inside his mind, certain that the way he imagined any story would be its best possible version. Those same eyes, though, looked upon his friends with such love, such care that you knew his heart was as brilliant as his mind even though he was a solitary person. 

You’d gotten on pretty quickly too. Before Remus, crushes had always made you freeze up. You never knew what to say, were afraid of embarrassing yourself. But with Remus, it had been the opposite. You inevitably opened up when you were with him, were the most comfortable, the most yourself.

Well, you had been anyway. That felt as far from true as possible now. Seeing him at the party had you paralyzed in place and desperate to snap out of it in time to run and hide before he saw you.

“You should talk to him. I know how much you miss him, and I’m sure he misses you too. James says so, and how wouldn’t he with how much you too like each other?” you heard from beside you. You turned to Lily and gave her your best “are you absolutely mad?” face. 

“Oh, c’mon, y/n. Remus is nice… well, at least nice to you. I’m sure he won’t make it awkward.” 

“How could it possibly not be?” you replied. “I can’t do it, Lils. Or, I don’t want to. I don’t know. Either way, I’m so not going over there.” “Well, that’s alright…” You were surprised at how easily Lily was letting it go; it wasn’t like her, but you were happy for the slack. “…because he seems to be coming over here,” she finished, grinning as if this was amusing. 

Your head shot in Remus’s direction, and sure enough, he had turned toward you. Your eyes met, and you wouldn’t ‘ve been able to name the feeling that shot through your entire body in that moment. Was it pleasant? Unpleasant? Fear? Love? It was like it was everything at once. Very like Remus to make you feel so much,  to make feeling such an intense experience, even after all this time… it was infuriating. 

When he looked at you, his usually stoic eyes softened, and he opened his mouth as if to say something to you even though he was still quite too far, especially with how loud the surroundings were.  You both stood still in place, staring at each other from across the rather large room. He took the first step. But as he did so, you turned away quickly and shoved past crowds of people in your desperate shot for the door. 

You made it outside, and the fresh, cold night air was a pleasant punch. It recalibrated the world, centered you, brought you back to your body, away from the pulsing music and your own pulsing heartbeat in your ears. You breathed it in like the sweetest medicine. 

Your cheeks felt like  they were on fire out here in the cold. You knew you must be blushing madly from the combination of embarrassment but especially sadness and anger at your almost-encounter with Remus. Bringing your cold fingers to your warm cheek, you felt a tear there you had not been conscious of shedding. You wiped it away quickly and took a long, stabilizing breath. You were finally calming down when you heard it. 

“Hey…” His unmistakable, dulcet voice just behind you. 

You closed your eyes tight but said nothing and didn’t move. 

He waited a few beats without saying anything more, but his presence behind you was heavy with anticipation and there was absolutely no doubt in your mind that he was still there. 

“Can we talk?” he asked, more of a whisper this time, closer. You took another deep breath then turned to face him. 

He was so beautiful. The scars across his face and peaking out of the collar of his jumper were particularly salient in this moonlight; his skin was still pale despite most others’ summer tans. His fingers were playing with his too-long sleeves; he was chewing his bottom lip, waiting for you to answer him. You gave a slight nod. 

His tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit at that, and he took another step closer to you. 

“How are you?” he asked.

“Fine,” you responded, a bit too quickly. 

He paused, probably hoping you’d say something more, but when you didn’t he just gave a bit of a nod as he tried on. 

“How was your summer?” “Good.” 

A beat. “Look, y/n…I know we left things in a kind of weird place last time we saw each other, but —“ Your scoff cut him off. 

Now you waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, you said, “that’s a nice way to phrase being rejected after admitting feelings that terrified you and losing your closest friend in the process.” 

He looked dumbstruck at your directness. His lips tightened into a harsh line and he exhaled sharply out of his nose before whispering, “It doesn’t have to be that way.” “No?” you asked, a bit more harshly than you intended. “Which part?”

“We can still be friends,” he said kindly. 

You couldn’t help but scoff again. 

“You can’t be serious?” you asked with a disbelieving laugh. 

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it on words that never came. He looked away from you for the first time, up toward the sky, chewing his lip again, burying his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat loudly, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to keep from crying or trying desperately to come up with something to say, but there was no missing how upset he was.  You felt a pang of regret at this realization. You were upset too, heartbroken, but you still cared so deeply for him and couldn’t stomach the idea of causing him pain. 

“Remus…” you whispered. His eyes shot directly back to yours at the sound of his name, and his expression shifted immediately to something between sadness and longing.

“I…” he let out but again couldn’t continue. You stepped closer to him this time. 

“Remus… Listen… I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I just… I can’t. Be friends with you, I mean. Not like you want me to be. It would hurt too much loving you, knowing you don’t love me too.” You were crying softly now, and you looked down as you finished, unable to maintain his piercing gaze.

“That’s what you think?” He sounded appalled, almost offended. “What?” you looked back at him. 

“You think I don’t love you?” 

“Well, you basically said as much.” “I didn’t.”

“You did.” “No, I didn’t. I’ve never lied to you, y/n. Never.” He was firm, his calmness confusing you even more. 

“I don’t understand… You rejected me. You didn’t return my feelings.” “That’s what you think happened?” His tone was utterly disbelieving, almost angry now. 

“Isn’t it?” 

“No.” “Then what happened, Remus?”

“I —“ He moaned in frustration. “You what? What, Remus? For fuck’s sake, please clarify things because I am seriously starting to lose it.”

“I can’t be with you.” It hurt just as much as it had all those weeks ago. It knocked the breath right out of you. You’d thought you’d processed, started to heal even if not yet move on, but this was just as raw as if you hadn’t just spent an entire summer trying to deal with it. You nodded slowly, angrily, looking away from him. 

“I never thought you were cruel, Remus. What? Rejecting me once wasn’t enough?”

“Well you should have!” he yelled at you, shocking you, jolting you upright. His hand went to his face, rubbing aggressively then scratching into his hair in frustration. “You should have.” he said much more softly this time. “You should have realized I’m capable of cruelty, y/n. It’s in my blood. It’s what I am.”

“Remus…” equal parts scolding and loving, finally understanding. “Remus, you’re not.” “I am. And I always will be. How can I be with you being what I am? How can you want to be with me?” His last question was complete desperation, a barely audible whisper. You closed the space between you and brought your hand to his face. You caressed his cheek then rested your forehead against his. You worried he might resist your affections, but to your surprise, he didn’t. He melted into your touch, exhaling all of his tension as he nuzzled into your palm, brushed your nose with his, his eyes closed. 

“Fuck,” you felt more than heard him say. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back. He gave a bit of a chuckle. “Remus.”

“Hm?” 

“Remus, look at me.” He opened his eyes, his face so close to yours. As you looked into each other’s eyes, he brought his hand up to your face, his cold fingers now caressing your warm cheek. 

“You love me?” you asked him. “Desperately,” he responded immediately. “How could I not, lovely girl…”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Rem?” “What?” He was so taken aback his shifted slightly, only slightly, back from your face. “Of course not, y/n. You’re the cleverest person I know. Why would you ask me that?” “You trust me?” “Yes.” “Okay, then if you trust me and you trust my clever judgement, can you please believe me when I tell you you’re worth loving? Please, Remus. You’re breaking my heart not letting me love you. I know you don’t mean to, but you’re hurting me — hurting both of us — by acting out of fear.” He closed his eyes again and exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve better.” “I don’t want better; I want you. And you’re hurting me now, Remus.” He took a second, looked back and forth between your eyes, scanned your face. “You’re sure?” “Entirely.”

With that, he kissed you immediately, fiercely, bringing his other hand to cup your face. You kissed him, running your other hand through his hair, pushing your body against his. Your tongues tangled; your moans harmonized. There was nothing else but him, his body, his mouth, in that moment; the rest of the word faded away as you breathed him in, tasted him for the first time, touched him as if for the first time. 

After what felt like a blissful eternity, you broke apart but kept your faces a breadth away from each other. You couldn’t help but giggle, and he chuckled in response, still caressing your cheek and bringing his other arm around your waste, holding you close. Your arms met behind his neck, and you bumped your noses lovingly. 

“So,” he stated. “You wanna go back to the party?” he asked, his tone implying he already knew your answer. “No, I don’t think so,” you laughed. “Good. Me neither.” “Good.”

“I really do want to hear about your summer, you know. And now we have all night to catch up — not to mention tomorrow… and the day after that, and the one after that…” His smile was joy and anticipation, but you could read his relief there too, could see how much he had wanted this like you had. “But…” 

You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“But, I think I want to do this a little longer first.” His smile became his kiss, and you were sure you’d never get enough. 

#marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauder x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus x y/n #remus x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #mutual pining #lily evans

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 11 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEXXX. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 4655

A/N: Well, the beginning of this is absolute filth, which y'all deserve after the roller coaster that was Part 10! But fear not, there is still plenty of angst to go around as our Reader begins to be confronted with all of her choices.

I so appreciate your patience cuz it took me longer than I wanted to get this one out. Life keeps getting in the way, and trust me, if all I could dive into was this, my ask box, and my EP obsession, I'd do only that! LOL

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments are definitely helping me power through some of these particularly gnarly chapters. This community is making me so happy, I can't even tell you. The asks are just so much fun and I'm so happy that I can bring a little joy (and lust) into your lives! This story (and EP) has taken over my heart and soul, so for those of you still with me, and to all the newcomers, I'm sending you all the love! And I promise there's more good stuff coming ahead, complete with more smut, angst, and tension.

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

“Hey, baby,” Elvis purrs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind, gazing at you in the bathroom mirror.

“Hi,” you reply. You can’t help but fall back into him, even though that voice in your head is screaming for you to stop this silliness before you get hurt. It’s just sex, you remind yourself. I can be with him if it’s just sex. He’s achingly beautiful in a way you have never seen him before, all tousled and sleepy, with none of the primping and preening that might accentuate his natural state. It’s just him existing, everything else stripped away.

It’s already late in the day, and you know you have to leave soon, but the thought fills you with dread, knowing the spell of this night will be over. You don’t know if you’ll ever have a night like this with him again. At least you aren’t heading back to Memphis as planned, though it might be better for everyone in the long run if you were. But despite your conflicted feelings about your relationship, you are still intrigued with the possibilities related to the job Elvis is offering you. I’m staying for that, you think, that and the amazing sex.

“I’m glad you stayed over last night. I like having you here when I wake up,” he says, squeezing you a little.

Your heart wants to leap out of your chest when he says things like that. “I like being here,” you say softly. In fact, I wish I could be here with you all the time, you think. But I can’t.

That thought makes you want to cry.

Elvis turns you around in his arms to face him, those heavy-lidded blue eyes still clouded with sleep. He kisses you, lips gentle at first, and you don’t even care that neither of you has brushed your teeth yet because you want everything, even the mundane things, with him. Even though your logical brain wants to keep you safe, the rest of you is spellbound by him.

His kisses become more insistent and you let them be, winding your arms around his neck, fingers playing in his mussed hair, willing reality to stay away just a little while longer. His large hands splay over the silk of the nightie you threw back on, and he pulls you into him, his tongue rolling over yours.

You’re not sure how it’s possible to be so attracted, so utterly drawn to a person. Somehow, he makes you want him even more than you already have. You’ve never been so satisfied (or had so many orgasms) in your life, yet you are still hungry for him. Unable to contain yourself, you sigh in his mouth.

And Elvis is so attuned to you that he knows that you want him and just how to pleasure you, in some ways you don’t even know yourself. Still naked, he moves his bare thigh between your legs, bracing you against the counter. His cool skin meets your warm, bare center, his dick resting soft but heavy on your thigh, and you bite your lip at the sensation. It’s like you aren’t yourself, the way you automatically and needily roll your hips, desperate for the friction he is providing you by just being there. You’d much rather be consumed by him than by the thoughts of all the ways you can’t have him.

You move slowly at first, letting your clit and pussy drag over him, back and forth, back and forth, working yourself up, until you feel the wetness begin to slide in between you. The feeling is delicious, and you can scarcely believe that you are so incredibly turned on just by riding his toned thigh.

“That’s it, honey. Take what you need,” his voice rumbles in your ear, the vibrations shooting down into your core and adding to the burning warmth rapidly growing in your belly. Elvis presses into you, hands on your hips, supporting you. You feel him harden against you as you continue moving on him, kissing his long neck and his scruffed jaw, and you begin to moan softly as your pleasure builds. You feel positively drunk on him, so completely in the moment that you forget everything else: your failing marriage, your recent questionable decision making, your love for Elvis, the fear and excitement of maybe, possibly finding a new purpose in life. Right now, Elvis is all there is.

“EP! Where are you?”

Jack’s voice rings out loud and clear from inside the suite.

Oh, fuck.

You choke, freezing, fear dousing over you like you’ve fallen through ice and into a frozen lake. Wide-eyed, you look at Elvis for help.

His dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he is not frantic or panicked in the least. In fact, he looks more perturbed than anything, which completely confounds you since you are quite literally in the middle of fucking his damn thigh and your husband is now mere feet away.

“Jacky—I’m in the john, man, and it’s gonna be a bit, so make yourself comfortable out there,” Elvis finally calls out naturally. Guess he picked up a thing or two in Hollywood after all, you think.

You are caught between your arousal, your terror, and your wanting to laugh hysterically at the excuse, at the entire situation. You didn’t know you could feel all these things at once and you are overwhelmed, trapped. Your unsuspecting husband is right there in the other room. You’re cursing Jack for interrupting this moment and cursing yourself for being in this position.

“Tell him to go away!” you mouth at Elvis.

To your shock, he shakes his head, his eyes going dark. “I finish what I start, honey,” he says so low, only you can hear, while grinding his thigh into your heat.

Your mouth opens in shock. You have got to be kidding me. You’re not sure what he’s playing at, but the look on his face shows he is not at all joking. It’s dangerous, charged, possessive, almost spiteful. Jealous.

And it sends a thrill through you that you cannot even begin to explain.

Then he kisses you roughly as he continues grinding into you. You think there is no way in hell that you can do this, that you can be aroused with your husband in the other room, but whatever magical prowess Elvis somehow has over you has you questioning everything you thought you knew about yourself. Because, despite your protests, your body has a mind of its own and you start rolling your hips again.

And, god, does it feel good. So good, in fact, that you unconsciously start to moan a little, but before much gets out, Elvis’ long fingers are pushing into your mouth, stopping the sound.

“Gotta be good and quiet for me, mama,” he breathes in your ear. You respond by sucking on his fingers. He grunts quietly, approvingly. Slick arousal pools on his leg as you ride him. That coil in your belly tightens, despite the risk of the situation, or perhaps because of it, you don’t really know. All you know is Elvis makes you feel out of control in ways you never imagined, doing things you would never have dared to do, making you feel things you shouldn’t feel.

Elvis is possessed, devilish, in how he’s seducing you, obviously gaining pleasure from the situation at hand. He cannot seem to contain himself, tearing away from you just long enough to flip you around. You watch in the mirror as he lines himself up to your entrance and pushes into you, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your cry of pleasure at the sensation of him filling you.

Pulling you flush against his chest, his other hand winds to your clit, working it furiously. You are on your tiptoes as he thrusts into you again and again, watching in the mirror, his eyes fierce and determined to stake his claim on you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“Should I take you out there and fuck you right in front of his face, hmm? Show him how he doesn’t deserve you?” he hisses in your ear, looking into your eyes in the mirror. “Show him all the ways I can please you that he can’t?” He snaps his hips in just the right way, hitting that sensitive spot inside you.

Your eyes roll back at that, and you try to stay silent but it’s nearly too much. The heat in your belly is growing exponentially with every filthy word he is saying. You should be mortified by what you are doing, by what he is doing to you, with Jack so close by, but instead you are running headlong towards the edge.

Elvis is plowing into you, driven by jealously and possessiveness, watching you, watching in the mirror what he is doing to you, how he is owning you. Your moans are muffled by his hand but come out nonetheless.

“You want him to hear, baby? You want him to walk in and watch how you take me so good? Cuz that’s what gonna happen if you keep making those sounds, lil’ mama,” he whispers, his lip curling up in a sneer, eyes dark with lust and power.

And that pushes you over the edge. You clutch at the counter as your climax hits you hard and try not to scream out Elvis’ name as your walls flutter around him. You see black and red behind your eyes, writhing against him, completely at his mercy. And he has no mercy for you, not now. He wants to claim every bit of you.

He growls, bending you over the counter, reaching over to turn on the faucet to mask some of the noises he can’t help making. A man on a mission, he drives into you, watching, consumed. You feel his thrusts become uneven, knowing that he’s close. He stutters into you once, twice more before you feel him begin to pulse, but as he is cumming, he pulls out of you. Pumping his dick with his hand and biting his lip in fevered concentration, he pulls up your nightie and finishes on your ass. With surprise, you feel the thick, hot spurts land, and you know he is marking you as his own.

But he doesn’t stop there, no. His cum is dripping out of your pussy, dripping down your ass cheeks and onto your thighs as water pours noisily out of the faucet near your head.  Using two long fingers, he pushes some of his arousal back into you and holds it there. Your mouth pops open in an O shape and you relish in the sensation of him filling you again, still sensitive from your climax.

“Fucking mine,” Elvis breathes out as he pushes his fingers deeper, looking you over with wild, dangerous eyes. His tanned, lean body lords over you like a vengeful god, awesome and terrible and beautiful all at the same time. A shiver runs through you, one of pleasure, disbelief, and apprehension. If you weren’t so shockingly aroused by everything he is doing and saying to you, you might be a little scared of the look in his eyes, but instead you are just relishing in the way he’s making you feel.

You can tell by that look that he is not done with you, not yet. He pulls his fingers out of you, turns off the faucet, and walks over to turn on the shower. You lift yourself off the counter, feeling him drip down your legs, watching him curiously. You feel like you are floating, untethered.

“Hey, Jacky, I’m gonna take a shower. You still good out there?” Elvis suddenly calls out. He grins at you like a Cheshire cat.

“Yeah, all good, EP!” you hear Jack yell back. His voice sends a knot into your stomach, but you have little time to dwell on it as Elvis kisses you hard, all teeth and tongue, his hands tangling and pulling in your hair. In your sexed out haze, all you can do is submit to him as he pulls your nightgown over your head and leads you into the large shower, continuing to kiss you.

The water is warm, running over your skin, as he begins to soap up both of you. His hands slip and slide over your body surprisingly gentle considering his state of mind. He plays as he washes, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples, running his hand down your belly and through your folds, massaging your ass as he washes away the last evidence of your sex. You have to remember to stay quiet as heat rolls through your veins, as your wet, slippery body slides against his. It’s a wonder to you that the man can be so dominating yet also so caring at the same time. Just another thing to add to the list of the ways Elvis Presley is a conundrum.

You try to wash him, but he won’t let you. Instead, he washes himself, then pushes you back into the cold tile of the shower. His lips tickle your ear as he speaks low and quiet: “Gonna make you cum again, baby.” Then he runs his fingers through your still-swollen folds.

“I’m not sure I can,” you whimper quietly in his ear. You’re worried you are too spent, too overstimulated after a long night of sex, and while you’ve never been this aroused, your husband is still right outside the door. Your heart beats hard against your ribcage at the thought.

“Oh, I can do it,” he grins, full of ego and danger. The look alone sends another wave of pleasure through you and you nod, giving in, needing him like you’ve never needed anyone.

Elvis kisses his way down your wet body to his knees, lapping at your clit. You jump at the sensation, still sensitive from earlier. He kisses you there instead, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to give him access to the place he wants to worship yet again, the place he took so wildly only minutes before.

He lathes his tongue flat over your folds and you squirm at the sensation, remembering you need to stay quiet. You hold fast to his shoulders as he licks you again then settles on your clit. He sucks and laps and kisses, using his tongue to coax you back to him, and god knows it’s working, even though you’re not sure how. He slides a finger into your wet heat, then two, then three, pumping into you, curling his fingers to drive you wild in the way only he knows how.

You are so sensitive, you are twitching and writhing under his ministrations. Your heart is throbbing fast in your ears, your breathing labored as you slap your own hand over your mouth in an effort to stay silent and not give yourself away. That heat in your belly is warm and rolling, not as intense as before but there all the same. He has learned fast in five days, already having memorized each way he can make your body sing for him.

Water pelts over his head, running in rivulets down his gorgeous face, plastering his raven hair to his forehead. Water catches in his lashes yet he still looks up at you, eyes like blue flames, devilish but angelic at the same time. Your breath catches at the sight.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how you’re all mine,” Elvis commands, in whispers, the roar of the water eating the sound.

Then he returns his attentions to you with fierce determination, fingering and eating you with such knowledge that it’s as if he’s telling you that you will never be satisfied by any other man ever again. That he is the only one who can fuck you and love your body in this way. He works as though he’s erasing the men who came before, leaving only him.

The low wave you’re riding begins to peak again and your breathing catches as you clutch at his wet body. You finally surrender with a violent shudder, falling apart around him, your walls fluttering and clenching at his relentless fingers. Your head falls back against the tile, mouth open with breathless sighs as he rides you out. When he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat and replaces them with his mouth, drinking you in, you collapse over him, so overstimulated that tears of pleasure leak from your eyes. You choke back the moans that want to escape your lips as his tongue wickedly works you over, as though tasting his triumph.

You’ve never in your life been so thoroughly fucked out, because, somehow, Elvis seems to top himself every day in that regard. Finally, he comes up from beneath your legs, washing his face in the rapidly cooling water before standing up to kiss you. He seems to have satisfied whatever possessive need came over him and you practically fall into his arms. He washes the slick from between your thighs for you before turning off the shower.

You are unable to form cohesive thoughts, too blissed out, too shocked at yourself and at him for doing what you just did with your husband so nearby. Your limbs shake with the exertion, and you feel wobbly and lightheaded. Elvis takes care of you, drying you off and wrapping a plush terrycloth robe around you. You can barely look at him. His essence is too overwhelming for you right now, and you are too trapped in your confusing web of feelings about him.

Elvis kisses you, whispering things you don’t quite absorb before he wraps himself up in his fancy robe and heads out to conduct business with your husband as if he didn’t just rail his wife into a stupor in the bathroom. He does it effortlessly, too.

As you come back to yourself, you start to shake, thinking about what a mess you’ve made for yourself. You realize that you are ashamed of yourself for what just happened, not really so much for the act itself, but more of the fact that you liked it so much. You also know that you don’t truly understand Elvis’ feelings for you, how his need for you is beyond anything that you assumed.

Sliding to the floor, you sit with your back against the wall as your husband (because as much as you hate him right now, he’s still your husband, and deep down you still have some semblance of love for him, you think) talks with your lover. You need out of here. The multitude of emotions coursing through you is too much. Your impulse to flee is so strong that you have to sit on your hands and pray that Jack leaves as soon as possible.

After what seems like an eternity, Elvis comes for you, telling you the coast is clear. Everything in you is being torn in two opposing directions: one wanting to run away as fast as you possibly can, away from your love and his possessiveness, and the other is so drawn into Elvis that looking at him is difficult because the idea of leaving him physically hurts you.

As you dress, clad once again in the outfit he got for you, Elvis tells you your first lesson with the vocal coach is at 5pm, then kisses you deeply before sending you on your way. You are glad that there is not a lot of time for talk or anything else, as your mind is going a million miles an hour. Confusion and guilt and love and elation all stream through you at once.

You shouldn’t be surprised when you find yourself outside Sandy’s room, knocking quietly on the door.

She opens the door with a look of surprise. “Hey, there, hon,” she says with a smile.

You promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, hon, what’s wrong? Come in, come in,” she says, putting her arm around you and ushering you inside.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, hiccupping, wiping at your face.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, sitting you down, rubbing your back. “You talk when you’re ready.” She waits patiently as you compose yourself, just being a comforting presence.

You can’t seem to speak the words out loud. There are too many of them and they are too jumbled in your brain. Luckily, Sandy seems to pick up on this and gently starts the conversation.

“You disappeared on me last night,” she says.

“I was…I was with Elvis,” you finally stutter out, almost in a whisper.

“Elvis? Why were you with Elvis?” she asks innocently. Then you watch her face as she connects the dots and realizes what you actually mean. Her eyes go wide for a moment. “Oh, shit,” she breathes out.

“Yeah,” is all you can muster up to that. You can see the wheels turning in her head.

“How long?” she asks.

“Not long. Only since we’ve been in Vegas.”

“Hmm,” she nods. You are confused that she doesn’t seem more shocked at the whole thing, that she’s not peppering you with ‘Oh my god’s and asking for every detail.

“What do you mean, ‘Hmm?’” you ask, a little defensive.

“Not a bad, ‘Hmm,’ hon. I guess…I’m not all that surprised is all,” she responds.

“What? How are you not surprised?! I’m surprised!” you argue, voice becoming shrill.

“Okay, take a breath! I just mean, well, you and EP have always had a special connection. And I’ve seen how he looks at you sometimes when he thinks no one else is looking. It’s not the biggest leap, especially considering what happened with Jack this week,” she says.

You are flabbergasted at this response. You expected judgement and disbelief. Certainly not an ‘Oh yeah, that seems right.’

“What are you talking about, a ‘special connection’?” you pry.

Sandy gives you a speculative look. Finally, she shakes her head at you, “Hon, how long have you been in his life?”

You don’t understand the point of this. “14 years, give or take. What does that matter?”

“What other woman has been in his life that long, besides his blood relations?” she asks pointedly, eyebrows raised.

Your mouth opens then closes as you try to piece together the many women in his life over the years. None come even close. “That’s irrelevant. It’s only that long because of his friendship with Jack,” you finally say.

“Sure,” she says, patting your hand, placating you.

“Sandy, my life is falling to pieces here! Jack almost caught us today. And I feel like a horrible person because I’ve gotten completely swept up into this affair, and not just any affair, but with my husband’s friend, who just happens to be Elvis Presley. If people find out, if Jack finds out, all hell is going to break loose, and my life will be over. But I keep going back, it’s like I can’t stop. I feel insane!” you ramble, pacing around the room.

“He’s that good in bed, huh?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Oh my god.” You blush furiously, covering your face with your hands.

“Of course, he is,” she laughs. “I mean, one doesn’t want to assume, but how could he not be?”

“Sandy, be serious for one second, please!” you beg. “I’m not going home today. Elvis is having me stay out here, with the pretense that I’m to become part of the show as one of the backup singers.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. And he sent Jack away last night on purpose so we could spend the whole night together. I’m telling you, San, I’m in too deep, and Elvis has no intention of letting me go. You know how he gets.”

“Do you want him to let you go?”

“I…no. And that’s the problem,” you say quietly, sitting back down next to her. “It’s like I’m out of my mind for him, which is so stupid. I hate being like all those other women. I hate that I know this won’t end well, yet I’m doing it anyway. And the lies, the sneaking around, it makes me an awful person.” You slump over onto her shoulder, exhausted by your own choices.

Sandy sits silent for a moment, arm around you. “You are not an awful person, hon. Jack hurt you bad, and you are turning to the only other man you trust to get you through it.”

“It’s still wrong. It’s still stooping to Jack’s level. And if it were just sex, I…” you trail off, unable to say the rest out loud.

“You love him.” She says it plain as day, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if it’s easy.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

“But you do,” she responds. “And that’s what scares you, isn’t it?”

You nod. “I’m just gonna get hurt again, I know it. I know that E doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“And how do you know?” she asks. “Did he tell you that?”

“Sandy, it’s Elvis. We all know how he is with women. And besides that, there are all the other factors, like Jack, being married, all of it. It’s too complicated. I need to end it, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough, or that he’ll even let me,” you begin to cry.

Sandy suddenly jumps up and begins unpacking her suitcase, suddenly on a mission.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Well, I’m sure as hell not going back home today and leaving you all by yourself with all of this,” she says, hanging stuff in the closet.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, but you are silently grateful.

“Uh huh.” Sandy gives you a knowing look. “You think I’m going home and miss all the action? Do you even know me at all?” she jokes.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling a little better.

“Not a problem, hon. We’ll get you through this, I promise. Love you,” she says, hugging you.

“Love you, too,” you whisper, squeezing back.

“Now I need all the details about how good the sex is! Does he do the lip thing in bed?”

You feel heat blaze over your cheeks.

“Oh, god, he does!” she laughs, teasing.

You smile, but still your stomach churns and your mind spins. What Sandy said about the connection you and Elvis have hits deep, knocking loose some of those dots you’ve been trying to connect, the ones your dreams and memories have been leading you towards. Desperate, you try to push those thoughts away, because even if (and that’s a big if) Elvis has some true feelings towards you, it doesn’t make anything less complicated. In fact, it makes things more complicated. But you refuse to make any assumptions about how he may or may not be feeling towards you, other than horny.

With Sandy and your impending first voice lesson as distractions, you force yourself to move forward. It’s easier when Elvis isn’t in your vicinity, drawing every cell of your body to him. Your head begins to clear at bit, and you finally think that maybe, just maybe, you’re getting a handle on things. That you’re in control and everything is manageable. That everything is not completely, terrifyingly of the rails.

I’ve got this, no big deal. I’m not in love and having an affair with Elvis, and I’m certainly not scared shitless about singing in front of people, and my husband definitely isn’t a liar and a cheat, you try and convince yourself.

Perfect. I guess I can add “delusional” to the list of my problems.

But you can hear the clock ticking. It’s getting louder by the second, telling you you’re one step closer to your downfall and that you can’t stop the shitstorm that’s coming, no matter how hard you try.

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[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eleven

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None!

Playlist | Masterlist

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Thanksgiving break had arrived, a welcome reprieve from the constant stress of classes. Everything had been ramping up lately on the climb to finals season, as your mental health had started to dwindle. Your world was crumbling, piece by piece, and you were desperately trying to get all those pieces back into place as the weight of life held you down. You hoped that finally getting some time alone would be helpful.

Loneliness had always been your closest friend, though it felt harder to cope with now that you’d gotten a taste of actual friendship. It had been tainted with love and lust, but it was friendship nonetheless, and you missed it dearly. This time of year in particular was always difficult. You could never afford the holiday travel cost to get back home, so you’d always just stay in the dorms, alone.

It was harder now, watching your fellow classmates in the hallways. Some looked ecstatic, smiles gracing their faces as they held their phones to their ears with one hand, the other hooked around the handle of a suitcase. Others looked exhausted, dark circles under their eyes as they shuffled their tired feet down the hall.

Being here with so few others had its perks. The showers were much cleaner, and on a few lucky occasions, you were the only person in the room. You kept yourself busy, finally cleaning the garbage heap that was once your dorm, and putting the finishing touches on your projects that would be due in the coming weeks. Through it all, though, a lingering feeling of sadness loomed over you like a dark cloud.

It was only the third day of the week-long respite, and you couldn’t take the feeling anymore. You drafted a text. One to Sam. Your last correspondence had been weeks ago, now, and something in your heart ached when you saw the date next to the messages. We don’t talk anymore, you thought, and that was the loneliest feeling in the world, for so many reasons.

hey, wondering if you and the guys are around/busy? bored and stuck in the dorms lol

You hadn’t even managed to close the app before you saw the tiny text of read appear under your message. It was almost instant.

back home for the week! maybe we can hang when we’re back? hope you've been well

You didn’t bother replying. What was the use, with all the unspoken words behind every sentence? You gave his message a heart, and put your phone back in your lap.

This was a situation you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. You tried to think of how far back you would go if given the chance. If you knew then what you knew now, would you never go up to the roof that night? Maybe you’d quit smoking altogether. You barely smoked these days, only when you were particularly stressed. The smell reminded you too much of him. As did everything else, in all honesty.

The light was quickly disappearing from the sky, stormy clouds obscuring the rising moon. Maybe a walk would ease your nerves. You shrugged on your coat and slipped your feet into your shoes, heading out into the chilly air. You hated Sam for so many things now, so many things that were not his fault. You could no longer take your favorite path down the least-traveled side of campus, not since you spotted his car there.

Your mind began to unravel in the solitude. Campus was empty, with a dead air to it that made you the slightest bit uncomfortable. Normally, a lack of people would be everything you’d hoped for, but it was no longer comforting to you.

An array of paths sprawled out in front of you in your mind. There seemed to be no way forward given your current position. You’d tried to take the advice of Josh and Jake and talk to Sam, but you couldn't find the words. Everything you wanted to say just felt wrong when you would practice it in the mirror. And, on top of that, you weren't sure if you would be able to hold your composure when he actually gave you a response. Would you be able to keep a poker face if he told you he was dating this girl? You had no idea, and didn’t feel like finding out the hard way.

Visions of Sam danced in front of your eyes as your feet naturally quickened their pace. You didn’t have time for this. There was already enough weighing on your mind, the added stress of all this was too much. You feared that you’d made a terrible mistake, choosing to sleep with Jake. It was an action that had been deliberately calculated to sever your tie with Sam, whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not. You’d told Jake he was not part of a revenge scheme, but that had been a lie, you now realized.

You said it wasn’t about Sam. But it had always been about him. Everything you did revolved around Sam. He was now the center of your world. This was more than a crush. You started walking faster. This was more than just finding him cute. You started jogging. This was more than wanting to be close friends with him. You started sprinting across the grass, your shoes leaving trails in the damp grass.

You couldn’t outrun him. You couldn’t the last time you’d been here, running across campus, trying to get away from him, hoping you could exhaust yourself out of being able to think. It wasn’t possible, not anymore. As you collapsed into the grass under a tree, your head spun, every word Sam had ever said to you running through your mind all at once, his image brighter in your mind than ever before.

The last of the leaves shuddered off the tree one by one in the light breeze. The dying grass tickled the palms of your hands when you laid them flat on the ground, your chest heaving. Tears ran down the sides of your face and all of this felt all too familiar. You hadn’t been able to say it back then, but you couldn’t hide from it anymore.

You loved him. You were deeply, desperately, unshakably in love with Sam.

The first flakes of snow began to fall. Delicately, small white flakes drifted down to you, landing on your blazing cheeks and collecting in your hair. Winter was here. Just as you decided to stop lying to yourself. Soon, the semester would end. You would be alone once again. You wouldn’t see Sam every morning, and you could free yourself of his constant influence. It was all so indescribably perfect and terrible, every feeling you had about him so painfully unresolved.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to dream. To fantasize about him in the ways you had always repressed so deeply. The calluses on his fingers, would they be rough against the soft skin of your cheek? What would it feel like to have your lips against his neck, your fingers running through his hair? It hurt so beautifully to let all of it in, two months of emotions washing over you all at once in a bittersweet haze.

Jake had meant nothing, when you got right down to it. But you’d put yourself in a precarious situation, now. Social dynamics you didn’t quite understand swirled in your head, confusing you, you couldn’t even remember all the details at this point. All you knew was that you’d taken what was offered, at the cost of losing what you needed most. Above all, you were scared. Nothing would be the same now, and you'd ruined something that could have been so beautiful – you were sure of it.

* * *

In some ways, it was nice to finally say it out loud. The rest of Thanksgiving break passed by like molasses, each day dragging on longer than the next. You’d done nothing but wallow in the agony of unrequited love, but it was somewhat easier now that you could say it. Love. When the semester resumed, you put on a brave face in front of Sam, though you were sure it was written all over you. There was no real use hiding it anymore. If he didn’t know then, he knew now, in the way you stared at him at the end of every class.

It was the final week of your regular schedule, and you felt a kind of nostalgia walking into the lecture hall for the last time. It would be a work day, the professor announced.

“Well!” Sam said, stretching his arms above his head and turning to you. “I think we’ve got this in the bag.”

Indeed, you did. The two of you had worked rather seamlessly together, more than you’d expected. “Yeah, I think it’s done.”

“Wanna turn it in together?” He gave you that smile, the one you had every inch of memorized.

“I think we only need to submit it once. You can do it, if you want.”

“No, together!” He pulled up the submission screen and added the finished file, neatly titled with your full names. Seeing them next to each other like that was strangely jarring. Before you could protest, he snatched your hand off the desk in front of you and brought it over to the mouse on his laptop. That warm, rough hand stayed on top of yours, pushing your fingers down to click the mouse button once.

And just like that, it was over. The class that had originally drawn the two of you together was done, it was all over. Nothing tethered you to him anymore but the fraying social ties you’d so carefully neglected. Pondering it for too long made you feel tears threatening to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“Finally done.” His voice broke you from your reverie, his hand sliding off of yours. “You wanna come over some time soon?”

You didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you could ever be alone in a room with Sam ever again. You recalled the words of his brothers, though. You needed to talk to him. Even if it was only to find closure, to be given the opportunity to truly cut him out of your life without guilt. “Sure, if I’ve got time. Finals, y’know.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he chuckled. “I’m in the same boat. And I have to move all my shit back to the house, too.”

He did look much more exhausted than usual. Those eyes, that already had an air of tired behind them, seemed heavy. Dark circles adorned the spaces below them. His hair was pulled back, and had lost some of its usual luster.

“Maybe once I’m done with everything I’ll text you." Maybe.

He looked at you, and closed his laptop with a finger. “Sweet. I’ve been missing you.”

“Really?” The word slipped out in shock.

“Of course. What’s a sky without the sun and moon?” He gave you a little shove and a grin. Unbearably endearing, to the point you almost felt embarrassment over it.

“Will you ever stop being so cheesy?”

“Don’t think it’s physically possible, actually.”

“So you’re not staying in your dorm?” You asked.

“No, isn’t the place closed during break?” He looked at you, confused. "You're staying there, though, I'm guessing?"

You nodded. “Normally, yeah. They let some people stay over the break. Like, international students, or people who can’t go home.”

“Can’t…go home?” He looked at you like he was treading on very treacherous ground.

You waved a hand at him, giving a sheepish grin. “Oh, it's not like that. My parents are just really far away. And they downsized recently, so I don’t have a room there anymore. It’s smarter for me to just stay here.”

“Oh, right, right.” He propped his elbow on the desk, resting his cheek against his palm. He looked utterly captivated by even dull talk. “Seems like it would get lonely in there this time of year.”

“Doesn’t bug me much. You get used to it.”

“Probably nice to finally have some peace and quiet, huh?”

“Oh, god, yes.”

“Hoping I’ll finally get some of that at the house. The guy in the room next to me, I don’t think he's spent a single night alone the whole semester. Loud as fuck, too.”

You laughed at that, immediately picking up what he was laying down. “God, that sounds obnoxious.”

“I’m worried it won’t be much better at the house. It never is.”

There was something behind his eyes when he said that, something that made your palms start to sweat and your eyes take in a bit more light. Fear, regret, something in the middle of the two. All that ran through your mind was thoughts of Jake, how you would have to stop. You’d need to quit all of them, that entire family.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and spoke over your silence. “I’m gonna run, if we’re done here.”

You nodded, suddenly struck by the feeling that you might cry at any moment. “Sounds good. I’ve got some shit to do, anyway.”

The two of you parted ways, and you were both burdened and light as a feather as you headed to the library to kill time before your next class. You didn’t have anything to do, in reality, but you needed time to center yourself.

Walking into the library did you no favors. You could see the quiet corner where you and Sam had sat together; that was months ago now. You sat as far away from that spot as you could, but your eyes lingered on it. If you could go back to that moment, would you change a thing? Would you have given up the blissful joy of being in love to avoid the way you now felt shattered to pieces?

A small part of you thought that, perhaps, it had all been worth it. Just to know him, during this time, had been enough. Maybe in your next life, you would meet him again, and he would point out the stars to you with his arm draped around your shoulder while you wore his sweater. The one you loved, the one that complimented his eyes. Maybe it would look just as good on you.

#greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #inr #i never really

[ayoharuko]

Cuddles & Comfort (Xiao x GN-Reader)

Hello everyone!

Happy Lantern Rite and happy lunar new year!

This oneshot isn't really related to Lantern because this was kinda an apology oneshot for baby Xiao this I kinda replaced him with Scaraboobs but..don’t worry..his my physical biuild Xiao right now-

Alr enough talking lol hope u enjoy this!

Including: Lots of fluff, reverse comfort and a little bit of angst~

REMINDER: This character does belong to me but to hoyoverse, and if I write him a little occ or inaccurate I'm sorry for that but please remember not to take this too seriously :3

Birds chirping....

Crickets cricketing....

It all sounds...so peaceful......

Too peaceful.......

If you look closely at a tree you can see a little green silhouette of a person...or otherwise known as....Adeptus Xiao

The protector of Liyue, The Conquer of Demons, One of the Last Remaining Yaksha’s....or..by his other name that only some few people know of...Alatus

The protector of Liyue was more tired then usual he thinks....

Was it because of his karmic debt? Nope, it was because of him worrying over you.....

You had accepted a commission in Dragonspine, really far away mind you, and it has been a week since you've left...and Xiao was starting to get really worried....

He had told you to call his name whenever you were in need of help or in trouble, but despite that, you still try and handle things on your own when sometimes you clearly need his assistance. He knows you just wanna help but...is it really worth it over losing your life!?

He was so frustrated of your stubbornness...really he is, and now your gone for over a week, haven't been sending letters and just...nothing

 ‘’What are you doing up here all alone Xiao?’’ A familiar voice had said, he turned around so fast that might just break his neck looking at the said, familiar person.

‘’Q-Qixing...’’ He said sounding very shocked 

‘’What? Never thought I'd come back? Xiao..baby you know I'll always be back-WHOA THERE’’ You couldn't finish your sentence as Xiao, your lover. Had wrapped you in a protective yet gentle hug....

‘’Xiao?’’ You called out to him bu he just held you tighter....

‘’Never again...’’ He mumbled ‘’Never again...what?’’ You asked 

This time he looked at you and said ‘’Never again..go to a commission thats out of Liyue.’’ 

‘’Wait what? Whyyy?’’ You looked at him with shock

‘’...’’ He didn’t respond and just dragged you to your guys room in the inn 

‘’X-Xiao? Whats with you today?’’ You ask him sitting on the bed while he was just looking away from you, you sigh and ask him, once again what was wrong?

‘’I...i..just...’’ Xiao felt like he couldn’t speak..like all the words he wanted to say to you was at the back of his throat.

‘’What? Its fine sweetheart..I won't get mad.’’ You say with that oh so sweet voice of yours....

He leaned his forehead towards yours and with a shaky voice said ‘’I thought...I thought you..wouldn't come back...’’ Xiao said still holding you protectively

‘’Xiao...’’ You didn't know that you, not being by his side for a week would affect him this much, you were sure that while you were gone he would find some other better things to do....

Oh how you didn't know how worried this Yaksha was.....

He was able to not think much of you when you were gone for a day..but once 3 days passed he started worrying, thinking and...missing you

He knows that he shouldn't disturb you and not follow you since he has his duties in Liyue but....

He misses you....a lot

He was broke out his thoughts once he heard your sweet voice say his name ‘’Xiao? I-I’m sorry...I didn't know that me being gone made you..this upset’’ You said half teasing him.

‘’Tch..’’ Xiao just scoffed at you and whoa...kissed your neck??

‘’W-Wow...your pretty bold today Xiao..’’ You said amazed 

Maybe you should take more faraway commissions more often, if it makes him this clingy and cute

‘’Hey..Xiao, want...want to cuddle?’’ You ask the Yaksha and for once....actually didn't shy away and just nodded pulling you down onto the bed Snugging closer to your neck, he's too cute for your heart-

‘’Oh..wait Xiao..can you..let go of me first? I forgot to change ehehehe~’’ You said, you probably smell sweaty right now....

To your surprised he just groaned and pulled you impossibly closer.

‘’But Xiaooo baby..i...I’m kinda sweaty right now..’’ You said pouting 

‘’Tch..you mortals are so confusing...’’ He said 

before you could retaliate he mumbled ‘’You smell fine, Qixing....’’ You barely heard it but you thank Rex Lapis that you've been blessed with such a adorable boyfriend >.<

unbeknownst to you, Xiao’s face is redder than cherries, oh why did he say that? Why do you make him feel like this? He was an Adeptus...yet...he feels such strong feelings towards a normal human.....who he knows would one day leave him...

because....mortals are weak and fragile..he knows this.

He held you tighter and whispered something to your neck, though you didn't hear what he said.

‘’Huh? Sorry Xiao could you repeat that?’’ You ask him curious of what he said

‘’Tch....I-I said...don't leave me....your my mate for life and you can't leave me...g-got it?’’ The Yaksha said blushing hard

‘’Oh....hehehehe...who said I would? Plus...your mine~’’ You said pulling his face up from your neck and kissing him passionately...

What this Yaksha didn't know was that this supposed commission you had wasn't really a commission you see.....

Let's just say....you have a special gift for him at his birthday~

Well...your just hoping the ‘ring’ gets done soon or otherwise your birthday gift for him might come a little late ehe~

Anddd done~

Happy Lantern Rite and Happy Lunar new year everyone!

I wish u guys good luck on y'alls summons/pullings and have a great year! :)

Also, I hope u guys enjoyed this little Xiao oneshot I made, consider this as an early birthday gift for him lol

Alr byeee now!~

Reblogs and Feedback/Comments are always appreciated! :3

#genshin impact #mihoyo #Hoyoverse #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #adeptus xiao #xiao fluff #alatus #I love him sm #see you guys on my next post!

[eternally-smitten]

What a Mess

summary: After a long day at work, Natalie finds out she has more to do when Sun comes to her covered in a mess.

word count: 962

author's note: ...the movie got to me. It healed my inner child. I couldn't resist at least having Sun be a platonic f/o! 13 year old me is screaming her little head off right now because I wrote this lol

banner credit: mmadeinheavenn

It was closing time for the Pizzaplex.

Finally.

Natalie shooed the last straggler out of the daycare before shutting the doors behind her. She flicked her staff hat off and ruffled her hair, feeling hungry and worn out. Her day wasn’t entirely done, though, because there was still a mess the kids left behind waiting for her. Balls taken from that dreaded ball pit were thrown everywhere, some shoes were left behind, building blocks littered all over the mats, and drawings scattered everywhere.

She sighed and put her hat back on, “Guess I’m goin’ home late again.”

Just as she started to collect the brightly colored balls, Natalie heard rustling around up in the jungle gym area. Then, there was distressed animatronic mumbling.

“Sun?” She asked, throwing the ball in her hand back in the pit, “Where are you?”

Whatever shuffling she heard earlier stopped as soon as she spoke. Natalie fixed her glasses and walked around, trying to find him.

“Sunny? Come on, I don’t have time to play hide and seek tonight. Can you help me clean up?”

“Clean up?” A voice asked above her.

Natalie saw part of his face poking out behind a slide and waved him down, “Yeah! There’s some drawings here for you, too.”

“Drawings?”

Before she could utter another word, Sun hopped down and hesitantly stepped in the light. When she could see him better, Natalie audibly groaned.

“You let the kids draw all over you again, didn’t you?” She pursed her lips.

Sun turned his face away a little, seemingly embarrassed, “They said they ran out of paper! They wanted to make me pretty!”

She fumbled with her key ring to find the keys to her office, “At least it’s not stickers again. Those were a nightmare to clean off.”

“You won’t let me have stickers without you around!” He reminded her, “I miss them…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Sunny,” Natalie found her key and beckoned him to follow her, “It’s that I don’t trust the kids. They always make a mess that I have to clean up.”

He titled his head, “But it’s so much fun! Lots and lots of fun!”

“Sure, for the one that doesn’t have to spend hours cleaning up sticky goo off of metal.” Natalie unlocked her office and searched her desk for the wipes she bought special for situations like this. Sun watched her curiously in the doorway and looked at how her office was decorated.

It was very dreary. The walls were a depressing gray, her desk chair was extremely worn out, and she had little to no decorations. Except for one thing hung up on the wall.

He pointed ahead, grabbing Natalie’s attention, “You kept it?”

She looked to where he was pointing and smiled, “Of course I did! You made it for me!”

The only thing that decorated her entire office was a drawing Sun did for her when she first started working at the Pizzaplex. It had a little Sun and a little Natalie smiling and holding hands under a rainbow that read “To my new bestest friend! Welcome aboard!!”

Sun clicked his cold fingers together, “You really liked it?”

“Yes!” Natalie giggled, grabbing her wipes before locking the office, “It’s from my best friend! Of course I love it!”

She took a seat on the playmats and patted the spot in front of her. Sun carefully sat down in front of her and leaned down so she could reach him better. His face was covered in crayon and marker. Little suns, flowers, cats and dogs, and kids’ names were all over in an assortment of colors. Natalie took a wipe and started to scrub the drawings away. Her movements made little squeaking noises against Sun’s metal face.

“You gotta stop letting the kids do this.” She muttered, struggling to clean up one particular marker doodle.

Sun did his best to stay still while she cleaned him up, “But they have so much fun!”

“They can have fun playing in other ways, Sunny.” Natalie finally got the one stain out and moved on to the next, “That’s what this place is here for, you know. You live in a playground.”

“I like it, though!” He whirred, “I make lots of friends when they doodle! We also ran out of paper and they weren’t interested in games!”

Natalie stopped to grab a new wipe, “All you gotta do is call me to grab you guys more paper. That’s what I’m here for, you know.”

“You’re so busy!” Sun shook his head, “Busy, busy!”

“Well, yeah!” She pulled his face towards her again, “I am busy here because it’s my job!”

She finished up wiping away the last of the crayon marks and let go of him. The mats squeaked as she stood up and stretched. Sun got up after her and touched his freshly cleaned face.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“Sure!” Natalie smiled at him, “Now, can you help me clean up before I go?”

“Keep the light on when you do!” Sun said anxiously, “...Please?”

She handed him one of the drawings she found, “Of course I will.”

Just like she expected, cleaning up took up most of her night. It was shocking how kids could jam toys into places Natalie never thought they could reach. Once they were finally done, she stuck around for another hour or so to drink Fizzy Pop with Sun and to keep him company. When it was time for her to get back home, Sun was left alone in the daycare once again. Instead of feeling lonely, though, he made sure to draw something new for Natalie. He wanted to make sure his best friend could decorate her office with lots of wonderful things.

Tag list: @rainy-day-ships @bobmckenzie @wanderers-wife @lieutenantselnia @gideongrovel @ghilliedup @felixrichtershubby @fates-theysband @mashyaoi @cherrypieships lmk if you want to be added/removed! ♡

#my stuff ♡ #Sun ♤ #self ship fic #self ship fanfiction #platonic f/o #ok to rb!

[marc-spectorr]

Give me some Nathan Bateman content 😌

pairing: nathan bateman x reader

warnings: mentions of sex and sex machines, no smut tho lol

a/n: ask and you shall receive, nonnie. also this is way more than five sentences but it’s my first nathan drabble so here ya go!

“So…?”

“So?”

“So… what do ya think?”

Nathan flops down beside you as your mind wraps around the gift he’d planted at the foot of the bed.

Of course, you know exactly what it is. Your mind has temporarily short-circuited since your fuck buddy decided to build (and personalize?) this for you solely because he’ll be at a tech convention for two weeks, and three days ago, drunk-you had slipped out how much you were going to miss him.

“I-I can’t believe you made me a fucking sex machine.”

He grins smugly at your reaction, folding his arms behind his head against the pillows. “I’m still waiting to hear a ‘thank you.’”

You don’t indulge him. Not yet, anyway. You crawl to where the machine is to study its features closely. It looks like any other ordinary machine you could buy at an online sex shop. According to Nathan, you can control the speed of the motor with just a touch of the remote, adjust the angle of the thruster easily for a multitude of positions to try, and for some reason it has Bluetooth capabilities. Neat!

The cherry on top of this machine, however, is the silicone cock attachment to it. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you unscrew the fake, realistically flesh-colored dick from the device. The length, girth, and ridges of it are all too familiar to you, and when you finally realize what Nathan meant by personalized, he’s peering at you through his wire glasses with a smirk.

“Is this—”

“A perfectly casted mold of my cock for you to pleasure yourself with in my absence? Why, yes. Yes, it is.”

“You’re gone for two weeks, not two years,” you remind him, raising a brow.

Nathan sits up straight and runs a hand through his thick beard. “And? You can’t go two weeks long without sex.”

“Me?” You scoff incredulously. “Bateman, you can’t even last a day without stuffing your cock inside me.”

“Can you just say thank you and accept my gift so I can tell you one last thing about our very own fuck machine?.”

You roll your eyes and toss the dildo at Nathan, which he catches with ease. “Our?”

“Yeah, our,” he repeats as he scoots closer to the apparatus and screws back on the artificial cock. “Don’t think for a sec that you’re the only one who’s gonna have fun with this.”

“What do you mean? Are you gonna fuck yourself with it too when you get home?”

Nathan shakes his head, pulling out his phone from his pocket. You watch as he opens up an app on the screen, and that’s when it clicks.

A gentle whirring begins to sound as the fuck machine operates to thrust into the air.

“Not only can I control everything from this app, but it’ll also let me watch you from the built-in camera I’ve installed right there, which will make phone sex a hundred times better. Cool, right?”

You don’t reply right away. You’re stunned that Nathan managed to draft and assemble all of this in just three days. He may be an asshole most of the time, but god, this man’s brain is astoundingly brilliant, and it leaves you gaping in awe.

“We’re gonna test it before you leave in the morning, aren’t we?” You ask him, already knowing the answer as he reaches for your pajama bottoms and hastily slides them off your legs.

“Damn right we are.”

“Good,” you add as you lay on your back with Nathan prepping you himself for the machine. “Oh, and by the way, thank you.”

✨ send me an ask with a sentence + a character and i’ll write the next five ✨

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman drabble #ex machina

[drugsforaddicts]

Hi! I hope you enjoyed your 2nd night of debauchery I mean Joker Out concert! How did you like the new song (I hear it's in english)? Did everyone lose their shit again at Šta bih ja? Any exciting and unexpected moments? Is your sister a baby boo now? :D

Oh, and forgot to ask yesterday, what do you think about new JO outfits? much love 💜

Hiii! And thank you, I sure did! 💛

When I saw the spoilers for the setlist, my first thought was like ”Schlager?? Oh hell yeaaah, give me some schlager!! 👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻” And I mean the song is like extra cheesy 🧀 and I like the vibe because it reminds me of something, but I can’t quite put my finger on what exactly? And Šta bih ja my beloveeed 💛💛 I can’t remember if people were as crazy as on the first night, but at least I was!

Unexpect moments.. when some drunk asshole started puking in the pit and got thrown out but apparently was let back in?? OH and I was expecting to hear SSOL at least once but nope lol. But piano version of Metulji and Padam??? My soul left my body. And my sister has been a light baby boo (and a sad bojere bitch) since last year but she’s not in the fandom 😁

And finally I think their stage outfits were nice and I don’t think those are the final final outfits tho? They wanted something casual and comfortable and that’s how they looked like (that’s all I care about!) 💛

Thanks for the ask nonny!! 💛💛 I’m so tired from the weekend but I had so much fun being a JObnb host for @btw-it-also-travels-in-time @saallotar and @sir-bloober-von-fuckstain 🥰 Or well it started as East Helsinki KÄbnb experience but we eneded up working on JOS related things and I’m still not over the fact that Nace shared our video and he has now seen my home??? Hello??? (Ok well more like my table cloth and a corner of my couch but still, it counts lmao!!)

Also me going ”Räääöäääh 🤡👹🫵🫵” when seeing @frikatilhi still makes me laugh (once again I’m sorry about that 😂😂) I wish I could’ve talked more with people but I’m a nervous wreck and will never know how to be a normal human.

I will probably go through my photos and videos today when I finally have time to sit down. I’ve missed a shit ton of posts and there’s no way I’m going to backlog 2 days worth of stuff. But I’ve been here in spirit! I missed screaming in the tags with everyone tho!! 🥹💛

#ask #JO sys tour 2024 #irl shenanigans

[lycanthrope6221]

Sucide Squad: Kill the Justice League

Character Rant

Hi there here’s my thoughts on all the current operatives in Sucide Squad: Kill the Justice League. I’ll probably do another one of these for the Joker when he releases next month

Disclaimer, I’m a artist not a writer I suck I at writing and I really just wanted to get my thoughts down and put them out there also I’m writing this a after playing the game last night and my memory isn’t 100% I might have missed some things but oh well.

Spoilers!!! mostly just for gameplay I don’t really bring up the story.

Tw: Guns and violence

Harley Quinn:

Character-Loving her dialogue right now. Her voice fits well(duh it’s Tara strong), she has funny dialogue and unhinged dialogue she doesn’t feel forced or anything. I’m happy she’s moved on from the Joker and is trying to live her best life despite the bomb planted into her skull.

Movement- I’m going to be completely honest and say I think I might need to redo the tutorial for the bat grapple gun. All I do is fall…. Beside that it’s fun to swing around and grapple to building my brain keeps defaulting to Spider-Man 2 controls lol.

Combat- I know you can equip any weapon for any character but I’m just sticking to the type of gun they started with so my Harley’s only getting SMG’s and revolvers. I like beating aliens to a bloody pulp with Harley’s bat and I love revolvers in games like there so much fun to use.

Deadshot:

Character- So far it looks like Floyd is basically the voice of reason for the team. He has prior experience to mercenary work and it shows in the way he communicates with Waller i think this is a nice detail. He brings up his daughter sometimes and I really hope he gets to see her preferably not in alien invaded metropolis.

Movement- at first I struggled with the jet pack but after a couple stressful missions I finally got used to it. I don’t really have much to say about it, it’s a jetpack. Blast off woo hoo.

Combat- My Deadshot currently has a a sniper rifle and assault rifle. I’m so happy that the sniper rifles in this game aren’t heavy snipers and don’t take 10 years to reload cause I would be so so dead. I just got my first notorious weapon and it’s Black Mask sniper rifle and the floating back skulls were a jump-scare at first but honestly it gives the gun character.

Captain Boomerang-

Character- As a Tim drake fan I apologize for what I’m about to say. He’s slowly becoming harder and harder to hate. The voice actor and writers are just doing to good of a job also shot out to the animators whoever did facial animations for this game deserves double pay. He’s a dick and he sucks but in a funny way. Like ok Boomer rang why would you put a bomb into a child’s head? Yes that child is an omega level Metahuman but still! I would push him down a flight of stairs but I would also throw him down a granola bar.

Movement- When I first saw the trailer I thought this was “just revived from darkest night and now I have powers” Boomerang but no its some speed force copy cat gauntlet I think this was a good decision. I don’t hate his traversal it’s honestly pretty fun to throw boomerangs and go fast. Gotta go fast…

Combat- I love Boomerangs melee attack I love smacking people with a boomerang. I have a sniper rifle and a shotgun equipped. Shotguns are so much fun in this and doing the quick time thingys is really fun with them 10/10 shotgun lover 4lifers.

King Shark:

Character: King shark is such a neat humanoid shark. At first I thought he was just MCU Drax the destroyer in a different font but even though they both share a lot of tropes King Sharks love for learning reminds me more of Strong from fallout. I really like his design too, we don’t see a lot of 3d humanoid sharks out there and they nailed it.

Movement: King Shark uses his claws and glowing shark powers to jump high and run fast. I can’t really tell but I think he may be the fastest character. It might just be how easy he is to use but I don’t really notice any limitations like the others/its not screaming in my face like with dead shots jetpack over heating or Harley’s bat drone having a cool down. It’s also very cool to run around as a giant shark jumping off builds and plowing through crowds of aliens.

Combat- My King Shark is currently equipped with a heavy machine gun and a shotgun. The heavy gun is fine and kinda fun to use it pairs really well with his melee. King sharks melee attack is his 2 daggers that can cut through people and launch them into the sky so you can riddle them with bullets. That’s my favorite combo and you can do that with every character but King Sharks just seems cooler.

#ssktjl #sucide squad: kill the justice league #deadshot #harley…. #harlequin #captain boomerang #sorry tim #king shark #dc comics #lycan talks

[togrowoldinv]

As the Stars Went Out

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

You meet up with Natasha once again

Warnings: language, angst (sorry in advance lol)

Note: So this is a part 2 to Until We Meet Again. It can be read alone, but it would make more sense if you read the other fic first. It occurs around the beginning of the events of infinity war. I hope you enjoy it!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Thank you for everything. All my love is yours. Until we meet again. -Natasha

You’ve carried that note with you ever since that morning she left you once again. You knew she was going to leave. That she had to leave. You were both too close to situation.

Like two sides of the coin where neither one is lucky. No one wins. Both end with pain and distress. And in distress is exactly how you find Natasha now.

She’s standing at your doorstep, if it can be called that even. Once you made contact with her almost a year ago, you knew you had to go off on your own. No more playing for a side. It’s just been you.

So, you found a trailer outside of Norway and have been staying there. You knew it was Natasha’s safe house, maybe that’s why you wanted to go there.

And here she is still with the blonde hair, a raged suit, and a glint in her eye that says she needs you.

You let her into the trailer and she leans against the kitchen counter. You don’t ask her why she’s here. It’s pointless. You don’t care. You’re just glad she is.

If you thought she was tired last time you saw her, this time she looks purely at a breaking point. You try not to look at her like that though. Natasha never wanted to be seen as breakable, even when she felt that way at her very core.

“We need your help,” Natasha breaks the silence. You feel like your heart clench at her voice. You missed it so much. She doesn’t look directly at you. You’re not sure why.

“We?“ You ask. She only nods in response.

You resist the urge to tell her you’ve missed her. It’s not time yet. There’s too much worry in her expression for you to think about yourself right now.

She looks down at her hands. Those very hands that used to hold you through the night. The ones you’ve longed to feel against your skin once again.

“This is big. Bigger than us, y/n,” Natasha says, her tone serious.

“You once told me there was nothing bigger than us,” you reply. It’s a harsh thing to say, you know that. And the immediate hurt on her face makes you regret saying it. “I’m sorry,” you mumble.

Natasha hums quietly. She walks to your fridge, her fridge, and gets a bottle of water. The way she drinks it quickly makes you wonder when the last time she’d even had water was. Your stomach twists in knots at the thought of her being so dehydrated while you stayed here with all that you needed.

“We need to leave before dawn,” Natasha says.

“I didn’t say I’d come with you,” you remind her. She doesn’t respond, but only looks at you more completely now. Her eyes look you over. You almost see a hint of a smile on her face as her eyes meet yours.

“That’s my jacket,” Nat remarks.

“Is it? I just found it around and put it on,”You play dumb. You knew it was hers when you put it on. In reality, you wanted to feel closer to her once again. It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

“You’re so beautiful,” Natasha suddenly tells you. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest and into her grasp once again.

She walks closer to you and backs you into the corner of the counter. It almost feels perfectly domestic as she reaches forward and caresses your cheek.

Her hands are rough and callused, no doubt from fighting and lack of proper access to the finer things in life. But still the touch of her hand is soft in nature. It’s kind, meaningful, loving even.

“I missed you,” you find yourself confessing. And then the dam breaks as your eyes fill with tears. It’s reminiscent of last time you met with Natasha, but this time it’s you who is losing control of your emotions.

“I missed you too, detka,” the sweet name slips out and Natasha tries to read your response to it. She sees your mouth turn into a frown and she’s not sure she hasn’t made a horrible mistake in calling you baby.

But it’s only a frown of nostalgic meaning, of missing what you had with her before.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing her lips. They’re as full and soft as you remember. Natasha lets you kiss her. She wants to let you feel what you need to feel. You just want to feel her love for you again. You need to feel it.

But you don’t feel it anymore. Not with her lips on yours or her loose hand on your waist. You pull away from Natasha and she stands there guiltily as if she can read your mind.

“Y/n-“ she starts but you cut her off.

“Do you not love me anymore?” You ask her, not meaning for your tone to be as desperate as it is.

“Of course I love you. It’s just everything is about to change,” Natasha answers. Her response makes you undeniably angry. You step further away from her.

“That’s a shit answer, Natasha. You love me or you don’t. Fuck what’s about to happen. Why can’t you just love me right now?”

“It’s not that simple,” Natasha argues. Argue is a loose word for how this is actually going. Both of you are speaking at normal volumes. Only the words are argumentative.

“It can be that simple. Just love me. Please just love me tonight. One more time, just please, Natasha, please,” you beg her.

You aren’t proud of it. You always thought that in life you should never beg for love, but standing here in front of this woman all you want is for her to love you.

“I can’t,” Natasha says. It comes out in a pained whisper.

She hates saying it. She hates denying her love for you. It’s not true that she doesn’t love you. She knows that. She told you that. And Natasha doesn’t lie. Especially not to you.

“You can’t or you won’t?” You ask her.

At this point, you’re both crying. Another moment of pure agony in the timeline of your love is being created in this moment.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, y/n,” Natasha says. She looks terribly sad as she says it and you do believe she’s sorry.

“I know you are sorry,” you say through muffled tears.

It’s quiet for a while as neither one of you know what to really say.

“We do need your help,” Natasha eventually breaks the silence.

“Okay,” is all you offer.

You move around the trailer grabbing the few belongings you have and get changed into more fight worthy clothing. Natasha waits impatiently by the door.

“Ready to go?” She asks when she sees you come back into the main area with your bag over your shoulder.

“I guess,” you reply, brushing her shoulder as you walk out the door.

“Y/n, wait. When all of this is over, I’m going to let myself love you again. I promise,” Natasha says. You stop in your tracks and turn around to look at her.

“Natasha, I love you. I will always love you. I wish you’d just let yourself love me too no matter the circumstances,” you say before turning back towards the quinjet and your other teammates.

Maybe someday you can be together again. After all, that note in your pocket says that all her love is yours.

You hope deep inside she still means it. You know she does. But she just can’t right now. Neither of you can.

Both of your hearts are shattered, but there’s a world to save.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @idkwhygregg @romanoffscottage @be-missed @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @mythosphere-x @readings-stuff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @milfloverslut @yelenabelovaisthebettersister @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @wandassitcom @ggrangerdanger @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @mortallytremendoussandwich @xxromanoffxx @peanutbutterprincess @karmasgxrl @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @exhaustedfangirl @when-wolves-howl @natashalovers @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @sammi1642 @itsyourgirlmalise @jujuu23 @the-night-owl-blr @strangegardentaco @avatarsnips @romanoffswoman @natashasilverfox @imthenatynat @natasha-danvers @sayah13 @harleysincairo @rach2602 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @lovelyy-moonlight @thenazwife @blackwidow-3 @huitzilinthebudgie3

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff

[canadiansummer]

TITLE: A Matter of Traditions [18+] PAIRING: Dmitri Antonov x Fem!Reader / Enzo x Fem!Reader REQUEST: from anon: “I absolutely love how you write Dmitri, and since you are taking requests, how about: celebrating his first Christmas in the US with f!reader? He may or may not be the present :D (meaning: I also love how you write sexy times!) Additional details (but not required, really, everything is up to you!): no mentions of Stranger Things canon and therefore no Mikhail; reader is a neighbor who can speak Russian and that's why they start bonding, she's a book translator maybe so she works from home and instead of typing she spends her days looking out of the window as the Russian hottie paints his fence...“ WARNINGS: GRAPHIC SMUT, minors dni. There’s also mention of grief and grieving, and unprotected sex (the pullout method does not work, this is fiction lol) It’s 14 pages, so I’d pace yourself. NOTE: Firstly, I’m sorry for writing a Christmas fic in March. The idea was just too fun. Secondly, thank you to the anon who sent this! I tried to work with what you wanted, but I left some stuff vague. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this and the same to everybody else who reads it.

You weren’t used to not seeing snow around this time of year.

Granted, you had lived in California for years, but your family had dragged you across state lines to meet for Christmas every year. You had always dragged your feet about the drive, yet this year you found yourself almost missing that on top of actually seeing your family. There were lights, a few decorations that reminded you what month it was, yet there was a part of you that was hoping you would just push through the last week and move on from the holiday. Which was what had you throwing yourself into your work more this month, both translating and getting ahead in your lesson recordings.

Which is also how you found yourself leaning against the small brick wall of Joyce Byers’ walk up, a heavy cassette recorder resting in your arms as you waited for her to come back outside to collect it.

She lived a bit of a drive away from you, but your little friendship with her had you kind of running around in the same circle. Which you knew wasn’t intended, but given the neighbor you had, you found yourself asking after and being invited to things involving her. Still, your initial bonding over working from home stood strong, but you could admit that you found it nice to have more reasons to see her. Though, that was at odds with you being pretty withdrawn this month.

Still, it was nice to be outside for a bit, even if there was that exhaustion that lingered over you over the last couple of weeks.

You lifted your gaze from the worn brand name on the recorder in your hands to the front door when you heard it open, Joyce stepping outside with a grin. She looked…a little stressed, actually, but you found yourself returning her smile with a small one of your own.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow this,” you said as you stepped forward to return the device to her, “Once I have my next book translated, I should have enough to buy my own so I don’t need to bother you every couple of weeks.”

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry,” Joyce dismissed easily enough, setting the recorder on the edge of the steps. “How is that coming along, anyway? I…can’t imagine books in Russian sell all that well over here.”

“Well, it’s not something I’d say is flying off the shelves,” you replied, sitting yourself down on the step once Joyce had done so herself, “Though, there’s some people interested and I can get enough from selling stuff under the table. The language lessons might do better, once I’ve got them all together.”

“Dmitri is still helping you with that, right?”

“With pronunciation, mostly,” you replied with a nod, “He’s been…really helpful.”

In more ways than one, you supposed. Your interactions with him had steadily moved toward a more gray area in regards to what was platonic and what wasn’t.

You had formed a quick friendship based on your shared language, which had been a bit of a surprise to both you and some of the people around you. Then the eventual proximity of your living situations only made interacting with him not only easier, but more frequent. You had approached him with the recording idea, considering you could read and write in Russian easily enough at that point, but you were concerned about your accent and pronunciation. Having a native speaker living within walking distance was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Yet, it wasn’t hard to miss the fact that you had started to regard him in a way that wasn’t exactly neighborly or professional. You knew some things about him–he knew Hopper and Joyce, as you’d crossed paths with him a couple times when visiting them, though the nature of his relationship with them wasn’t completely known to you yet. You also knew he was a political defector, as he’d described, but pushing further into that only got you vaguer answers. As much as your curiosity wanted you to dig, you knew it wasn’t your place to. Regardless, a closeness had formed over the last while and you couldn’t help but regard him in a different way. If he returned that or not, it was hard to read at points. Sometimes it seemed so, yet other times it felt like you were reading into things a little too much.

It was a frustrating push-and-pull that often left you with more questions than answers.

As if reading your mind, you caught the look Joyce tossed your way. The touch of a grin on her lips, eyebrows slightly raised. You let out a small scoff but couldn’t help mirroring her grin.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Joyce replied, lightheartedly as she raised her hands up somewhat, “Just that if you’re worried about our reaction, you might not find much surprise…”

“He’s…helping me out, that’s all.” As much as you wished otherwise, sometimes.

“Okay,” she replied, still teasing but it was clear she was backing off the topic. For now, you supposed. She rubbed her hands on the tops of her legs, looking out toward the street as you noticed her demeanor change somewhat. “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about…”

You shifted to sit toward her a little more on the step, giving her your attention as she glanced back toward you. There was a softness to her expression, one that put a bit of tension in you.

“I know that this will be your first Christmas without your family…” she started, that familiar pit of grief setting back into your gut that you had forgotten about for a few moments. “I hate to think that you’ll be alone, so if you wanted to spend it with us, we’d be happy to have you.”

“Joyce…” you started, feeling a small squeeze in your chest at her kind gesture, “That’s so sweet, but I think I’ll be fine. It still hurts, but…I don’t know, maybe I need to do it this way. Let myself grieve, things like that.”

“I understand. I just didn’t want you to feel alone, or…”

“I’ll be fine,” you replied with a light smile, “I’ll join you guys for New Years.”

“Okay,” Joyce said with a small, sympathetic smile as she reached out to squeeze your hand.

You returned it easily, despite the light choking feeling in your throat.

                                                             ***

At around noon, you got a knock on your front door.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, listening to the radio host talking–weather, traffic, it was something you could easily tune out as you finished off your lunch. However, the sound made you pause, your eyebrows furrowing somewhat before you crossed over toward the living room to subtly peer behind a curtain toward the front door. You immediately recognized the figure outside, though it didn’t quite quell the mild confusion in you.

Finally, you opened the door with a small smile–friendly, but you couldn’t ignore the small twinge of nervousness that settled in you.

Dmitri looked as collected as he usually did–it was interesting how friendly and attentive he could appear sometimes, while also still being as unreadable as he was sometimes. At the moment, however, he greeted you with a familiar grin, his body language relaxed yet almost expectant. While you returned the quick greeting he gave you, it was hard to hide the touch of confusion that lingered in your expression.

That is, until he produced a cassette tape from his pocket, realization making you let out an almost embarrassed chuckle.

“That completely slipped my mind,” you admitted, finally shifting to open the door some more, “Feel free to come in. I’m interested in hearing your input.”

You left him to let himself in as you crossed the room to turn off the radio as the starts of a familiar holiday song started up. As unavoidable as you knew it was, considering it was only a couple of days until Christmas, you just wanted to carry on like it was a normal week. Having him there to talk about your progress in Russian was a welcomed distraction.

“I don’t have much to give you this time,” he replied as you cleared off the table, leaving him to place the tape down on the surface as you returned. “Your accent is getting better.”

“I’m glad,” you replied with a light smile, sitting back down in your chair as you pulled the tape toward yourself, turning it over in your hands somewhat. “It means I won’t have to redo this one, which is always a good thing. I can’t thank you enough for your help. It’d be easier to just keep to translation, but that work only comes so often so…well.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, somewhat dismissive but otherwise his tone was light–you’d learned a while ago that if he didn’t want to do this, you probably would have known by now. “I still want to work on my English, but it is nice to do this.”

You gave him a small, understanding nod at that. Given what you knew about him and where he came from, you could understand where he was coming from with that somewhat. Though, you noticed him glancing around your home at that moment, as if looking for something. This wasn’t the first time he had set foot in your home–usually no more than to do this exact thing, actually. Yet, you couldn’t help the slow furrowing of your brows as he glanced back toward you.

“You don’t celebrate?”

It took you a moment to clue in–compared to other houses in the neighborhood, you knew yours was lacking in decorations or anything this year. You didn’t have the energy or see the point–there’d be another time. It was hard to stop yourself from wringing your hands together, however, dropping your gaze down toward the table for a moment.

“My, uh,” you started, “My family used to gather around this time of year, but…we’re not doing that this year. It’s the first time I’m on my own this year, so I didn’t really see a reason to set everything up.”

“I understand,” he replied, “It is not my first time alone, but it is while being here.”

“Oh…yeah, I suppose it would be,” you said, meeting his gaze again, “It’d be different dates for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes and no,” he said after a small pause, finally shifting to sit down at the vacant chair at your table. “My parents grew up under strict religious laws–the government didn’t want any religion at all in the country and I grew up in a time where that was still present. We were allowed to celebrate the new year, so my family carried some traditions over to celebrate then. Not too different from what I have seen. We had a small tree, some old decorations and presents if we could afford them. It was an excuse to save food and cook in my house.”

“I had no idea,” you replied, taking in that information, “This must be a couple firsts for you, then.”

“At a literal level, sure,” he replied with a small shrug, “Like I said, this is not the first time I have been alone during this time of the year. It doesn’t feel too different.”

You wished you could say the same.

Still, you bit back that remark–you didn’t really know why. He had just shared a couple things about his family, but you still bit your tongue about the fact that your father had been the one to bring the family together at this time. After his passing, nobody really knew who should take up the mantle and with it being so recent…well, there was still a sting to it.

However, sitting at the table with Dmitri as a small silence lingered after his words, you found a somewhat surprising thought crop up in your mind. You supposed it wasn’t too different from how Joyce felt toward you a couple days ago–yet, it’d force you to acknowledge the holiday at least somewhat, but the casual way he talked about being alone stabbed at you somewhat.

Would he even want to? You enjoyed spending time with him, and it seemed like he returned the feeling, yet…

“Well…” you started, fiddling with the cassette tape again, “If we’re both alone, maybe you’d want to spend it here?”

“With you?” he asked after a moment, a small pit of regret setting into your gut at the question.

“Only if you want to,” you said, pushing through the feeling as though a part of you just wanted to retract the offer, “I know I wasn’t planning on doing anything this year, so I could not make a big deal out of it anyway. I just thought I’d offer since you’re my neighbor–my friend. It can be…a little lonely.”

A part of you worried that it sounded a little too much like you were offering out of pity, yet Dmitri didn’t seem to take it that way. That, or he didn’t voice it at the moment. He seemed to think that over, which was a little unexpected. You had been expecting a polite decline–you were just helping each other out, asking to spend Christmas together was a little overboard.

Yet, he still continued to surprise you.

“If you want to,” he said after a few moments, causing you to glance toward him, “that would be nice. I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Like I said, it wouldn’t be too much of an issue,” you replied as you felt a small grin touch your face, “It might give me an excuse to pick up a small tree and buy my own decorations.”

“Again, if you want. Still…thank you.”

                                                          ***

“Hopper and Joyce said they are doing a sort of backyard party for New Years if the weather is nice enough,” Dmitri said after rummaging through a back to pass you another wrapped box of ornaments as you worked on unwrapping the cord for the lights on the small tree. “I was told to pass on the invitation to you.”

“Joyce already hinted at it,” you said, though you were still touched that they still went out of their way to do so formally. Though, you paused somewhat, glancing toward him over your shoulder. “Didn’t they have one recently? For Halloween?”

“I think so,” he replied, “I am starting to think it is a way to make sure I don’t need to buy my own food.”

“My family used to do those in the summer–though, I used to live where it snowed a lot in the winter so I suppose it was a summer thing. Maybe they are just taking advantage of the climate here.”

“Maybe.”

As much as you had been nervous to let him spend the holiday with you, things seemed to relax into how they usually were once you were in the same space together. You were reminded that things often felt like a tug-of-war with him at points–lighthearted and flirty sometimes, then kind of distant and neighborly during other times. Really, there was a part of you that just wanted to ask. To rip the bandage off and settle on an answer so it wasn’t a question that sat on your mind whenever you were with him.

At the moment, however, you didn’t find the words coming forth. Still, the fact that Joyce and Hopper knew you two interacted enough to send messages down through each other, along with the look Joyce had given you back when you sat on her step, had you holding back the urge to shake your head.

If it was that obvious, the crossing of that line shouldn’t be as difficult as it was.

Still, you didn’t want to dwell on that in the current situation. Not with Dmitri in your home and you sitting on the floor as you finished setting up the small tree you had bought. It was fake, about the length of your arm. You put a small, plaid cloth over the step stool you set it on in the living room, but for the most part it wasn’t too bad. Finally, you plugged the lights in, shifting to sit a little further back from it as you took it in.

Again, it wasn’t much, but the lights did make you feel a little better somehow.

“There it is,” you said, spreading your arms out somewhat in a teasing manner toward it.

“You honored your word at least,” Dmitri commented.

“I definitely try to,” you muttered as you watched him help himself to a box of ornaments.

They were mostly decorative balls, you didn’t want to go overboard. It was a little odd to see him like this, yet it put a lightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while. You didn’t mind the small silences, either, considering a part of you was still struggling to admit that not only were you going ahead with holding at least a small celebration for the season, but it was also with him. You enjoyed Dmitri’s company, but in a situation like this you feared that your mind would tumble down a familiar path and you would end up saying something that would make this awkward.

So, you were also happy that you had something to do with your hands as you set about decorating the tree with him. However, that relatively mild ‘peace’ didn’t last too long.

“You said your family gathered in the summer and during this time?” Dmitri asked, causing you to glance toward him as you could sense that uncomfortable topic approaching. “Is this a lot like what they would do?”

“Kind of,” you replied after taking in a small breath, looking over the tree for a moment. “Just…bigger, I guess. My parents liked to bring everybody together, so it was usually a pretty crowded house. Relatives sleeping on couches.”

Dmitri didn’t say anything, just listening. You debated on leaving it at that, yet you figured letting him in a bit wouldn’t be too terrible. You both were a little vague about certain things, but you certainly didn’t regard him as some stranger or distant acquaintance. The current situation was proof of that.

“My mother passed when I was younger,” you continued, “It was my dad who carried on the traditions they set out, despite how painful it was during the earlier years. He did that by himself for years, well into his kids being adults, having kids of their own. He…passed this year, a while ago but still recent enough that I think we’re struggling to figure out how to pick up what he left. I just…know it’s not me. Not this year.”

“...I’m sorry,” Dmitri said as he let that sit for a couple of moments, “You didn’t say anything about that.”

“I struggled with admitting it to myself for a while,” you admitted, “I started telling more people, but then this month…I don’t know. I just didn’t want to think about it.”

“I can understand.”

You sat down on the floor as you took the last decoration from your box, resting your arms on your knees as you took in the tree for a few moments. A part of you had been expecting to struggle to hold back tears and not break down in front of him, yet there was an odd sense of calmness in you. Maybe it was just the moment and it would all hit you once all of this was over, but you would take it as it was for the time being.

“It hurts, but…I don’t know. I think he’d be relieved I’m not spending it alone in the dark or something. Not that I invited you to fill that or whatever, but I know he’d be happy.”

Dmitri didn’t reply to that, seeming to accept your natural response to all of that as he sat beside you as you both took in your work. You found a familiar feeling rising up in you, the very same one that had been poking at you the whole time that existed outside of your grief for the loss of your father.

Maybe you should just say something. The year was ending, maybe you could just get an answer.

“This is probably a terrible time to get into this, but I just wanted to know if…”

You had felt a bit of courage build up in you as you started talking, yet when you turned to look at Dmitri, the words kind of died on your tongue.

The look on his face took you off guard, admittedly. While a part of you was expecting to see the pained expression of a rejection that you had seen on different people throughout different points in your life, the softness of his expression and turning to meet his gaze unexpectedly head-on had your heart stopping for a moment. Dmitri looked somewhat surprised himself, like he hadn’t expected you to catch him looking at you. Yet, despite how easily either of you could just look away, you found yourself holding his gaze for a few, prolonged moments.

As much as you knew you could just complete your thought–just ask outright if he was as interested in you as you were in him–you realized that you didn’t have to. You found yourself leaning in easily to meet him in a kiss, Dmitri cupping the back of your head as you shifted closer to him. The kisses got firmer as the initial hesitancy stepped aside, your hands coming up to cup both sides of his jaw. You felt his arm slip around your lower back as he pulled you closer to him.

You slipped your leg over one of his own, allowing your bodies to brush briefly as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and shoulders. The position was a little uncomfortable on the hardwood of your floor, but the mix of the rush of emotions and genuine relief had you savoring the moment. There had been the wandering thoughts of what it would be like if you had just kissed him at certain moments, or vice versa, yet the reality was a different story.

In the dying light of day and the small illumination of the lights on the tree beside you, along with the days and weeks of dreading the next day or so, the fact that he was kissing you was almost euphoric.

However, you knew the lightheadedness you were starting to feel was from needing some air.

You pulled back from the kiss somewhat with a small inhale, feeling like your mind was buzzing with things you should say following that. Yet, Dmitri’s hand tracing along the side of your face, thumb running down your jaw, was enough to slow that for a few moments.

“I hope you were wanting to talk about that and not something else,” he said after a few moments, which pulled a small, amused huff from you. “I have wanted to do that for so long.”

“How long?” you asked, failing to hide the mild disbelief from your tone despite everything.

“Weeks,” he replied with a light shrug, “A couple days ago before we ended up talking about Christmas.”

“...Yeah, that’s about the same for me,” you replied with a chuckle, shaking your head lightly, “I had been sitting in suspense for weeks, you should have just done it.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Dmitri pulled you in again for another kiss, feeling him grin into it making you feel almost giddy. It was tempting to deepen it, especially considering you were practically sitting in his lap and you were close enough to feel his chest press against your own as he breathed. Yet, you knew carrying on with this on the floor would quickly become uncomfortable and you didn’t know if he wanted to go any further than kissing. Given the feeling building low in your gut, you knew what your answer was but you still found yourself pulling back after a few moments.

“Can…Do you want to go to my bedroom or just see each other tomorrow? I’m fine with either, but I know I can’t sit on the floor much longer.”

Dmitri regarded you for a few moments, mulling that over as you tried to will your heart to slow down a bit. You knew things were escalating quickly, yet you were truthful about being fine with either. You just wanted him to make a call, and you could tell he knew that as well. You felt him tug lightly at the side of your shirt as he gathered his words.

“If we go to your bedroom, that is not because you don’t want to deal with what you told me about your father, yes? I don’t want to be a distraction from that.”

“I have tried many distractions,” you admitted, shaking your head somewhat sadly, “It’ll still be there and I know that. I want to deal with that. I also want this. The two didn’t really cross in my mind, but no. I don’t want to use you like that. I wouldn’t.”

Dmitri took in your words for a few moments before he nodded, shifting so you could pull away from him more. Though, the separation didn’t last too long as he pulled you back into him once you both were standing, kissing you for a few moments before pulling back somewhat to speak.

“Then I would like to see your bedroom,” he said, pulling lightly at the waistband of your pants, “eventually.”

He pulled you down onto the couch with you on top of him again, his mouth finding yours again. You let out a small noise of surprise with the hardness of the kiss, settling to straddle his hips as you ran your hands down his clothed chest. Despite the current moment, some mild disbelief still managed to push its way to the forefront of your mind that this was happening in the first place. There had been a point where you figured you should have let the whole thing go–to let it fizzle out and you’d settle into more platonic thoughts about him. Yet, that wasn’t the case.

Perhaps it never would have been the case, considering the current moment.

With the confirmation you needed, the hesitancy seemed to melt away as you broke from the kiss to trail your lips down his neck. There had been wandering thoughts every now and again about what it would be like to have his mouth on you, or what reactions he’d have if you did the same. Of course, the reality was pretty different, but you didn’t particularly mind that. Dmitri was a little quiet, which kind of lined up with what you had known of him, but his sighs and the way his hands roamed your back told you he was enjoying himself enough.

It also wasn’t hard to miss the stiffening bulge in his pants that became more apparent as things progressed, his hands venturing into more intimate places. You weren’t too surprised when you found yourself removing your shirt at his prompting, which had you pulling his own up in return. You wanted to feel his skin on yours, which he seemed happy to oblige given how quickly his mouth found your shoulder. You let out a small breath at the feeling of his mouth against your skin, placing a hand against the back of the couch to brace yourself while one moved up into his hair as he dropped his head down to press an open-mouthed kiss against the top of one of your breasts.

Your gaze wandered toward the small bit of a street lamp that you could see through one of the small slits in the blinds. The sun had gone down, the light from the street lamp and some other lights from the houses around being one of the only light sources. For the most part, it looked empty, and you knew your living room blinds were drawn. While doing this in front of a window could go south pretty quickly, the chance of anybody seeing was low and you were enjoying the foreplay.

So, you pushed away from Dmitri somewhat to unclasp your bra. For a few moments, you could feel your heart pick up its pace when his gaze dropped down to your chest. Though, he looked back up to meet your eyes as you returned to your previous position.

“You look better than I pictured,” he muttered.

That surprised you somewhat, that you weren’t alone in the fantasizing, though any response you could come up with to that died before you could formulate it as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand. The sensation had you arching your back into him, unawarely grinding yourself down against his crotch as he gently pinched and rolled one of your nipples. That pulled a low moan from you, Dmitri lifting his hips against your own as you pressed down against him in kind. Even with the both of you still only being half naked, it still felt nice and you definitely wanted more.

“So do you,” you replied finally, almost in a sigh.

There was truth to that statement.

Really, your affection and attraction toward him had been a little slow building–from distraction and stress, at the time. You had thought he was a good-looking man when you had first met him, though you weren’t sure what to make of him. He was more of Hopper’s friend than Joyce’s, but she had been quick to mention your translation work and things between you two had warmed up quickly enough. It was downhill from there, really. You had found yourself enjoying his voice, regardless of the language. His eyes, grin, arms, his lips. Once you had started to wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him, what his hands would feel like on your body, you knew your little acquaintanceship had shifted. There had been a few days where you found yourself staring at him instead of following what he was saying.

Knowing what you did now, you wondered if he’d had similar issues in regards to you.

It didn’t really matter in the long run, however, considering how Dmitri closing his mouth around one of your nipples effectively stopped any further wandering thoughts. He kneaded one of your breasts in his hand, sucking on and flicking his tongue against the nipple of the other. You moaned, fingers gripping a little tighter into the back cushion of the couch. As much as you were clearly enjoying what his mouth and hands were doing, you brushing yourself against and grinding on his cock was slowly killing you.

You dropped your free hand down to his stomach, trailing your fingers down until you felt the waistband of his pants. Fumbling a little blindly until Dmitri pulled his head back from your chest, you opened the front of his pants.

“I figure this might feel a little better,” you said, tone lightly teasing but you couldn’t hide the desire in it as he let you slip your hand into his pants.

You cupped him in your hand, pressing your palm against his erection as he lulled his head back somewhat against the couch. He rolled his hips up against your hand as you rubbed him outside of his underwear for a bit. You watched his face as you did so, rubbing him harder or faster depending on his reactions. The way his breaths hitched and the short grunts and groans he let out was worth delaying your own pleasure for a while. You pulled his cock out, giving it a few languid strokes.

From your position, you knew you could easily just push down your pants and underwear and ride him on the couch, yet you weren’t too keen on doing that where potential eyes could see. Doing what you were doing currently was risky enough. Though, you couldn’t help but keep stroking him, picking up the pace somewhat to help him along. After a few more strokes, you bent down and licked the head of his cock. Immediately, you noticed the way his legs tensed up, a somewhat choked groan escaping him. Dmitri gripping a hand onto your shoulder had you not going any further, however. You glanced up at him as he shook his head lightly.

“You wanted to take me to the bedroom.”

“I thought you seemed pretty relaxed on the couch,” you commented, somewhat amused but caught onto his meaning.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to continue on the couch, either, anyway. Plus, the throbbing between your legs was getting hard to ignore, but you didn’t know if you could multitask enough to touch yourself and pleasure him at the same time. Not with the direction you had been headed, anyway.

So, leading him down the hall toward your room was an easy choice to make. You took the liberty of removing the last of your clothing before climbing onto your bed. Dmitri wasn’t too far behind, following suit before joining you. He pressed you into the mattress as he kissed you. It was harder than the other ones, your mouth parting for his tongue as you felt his cock slide against your folds with a small roll of his hips. You moaned into Dmitri’s mouth, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He moaned in return, pressing his hips into your movement as well.

Finally, you broke from the kiss with a small, involuntary whimper. You were more worked up than you realized, a surge of both frustration and anticipation settling into your gut.

“I need you inside me,” you said between a breath, “I want you. Please.”

“I know,” Dmitri muttered against the skin of your neck before he pressed a quick kiss against the underside of your jaw. “You’re so wet.”

You knew, too. It wasn’t hard to notice, and a part of you almost wanted to feel a little embarrassed by that and how your hips kept twitching, but you didn’t really care at the moment. Dmitri ground himself against you a few more times, the movements slow and a little torturous. Thankfully, he seemed ready to move on from that, as you felt him shift back somewhat before pushing his cock into you.

The stretch still had a bit of a pinch to it, but thankfully you were aroused enough to adjust quickly enough. You situated your legs against his hip as he rocked into you at a slow pace until he was buried completely inside you. You could feel his steady breaths against your neck and shoulder, pulling and pushing his cock against your walls that you found yourself rocking your hips again in an attempt to get him to move faster.

Eventually he was moving in a way that was pulling more moans and gasps from you, little jolts of pleasure spurring you into thrusting up against him at a quicker pace.

You were very close to just losing yourself into the sensations Dmitri was pulling out of you with each thrust, but reality still liked to leak in around the edges from time to time. It dawned on you that this was truly happening. You were having sex with the man that you had tried, time and again, to let go of since you were convinced it wasn’t going to happen. You had fantasized about him from time to time, a thought to touch yourself to during late nights in hopes an orgasm would help get you to sleep. If loneliness and a longing didn’t have you just wanting to be close to him.

He liked you, too. That was something you didn’t have time to turn over in your head, but tonight made that apparent.

Yet, those were thoughts you were struggling to hold onto as Dmitri hooked an arm under the knee of one of your legs. He thrusted into you harder, and at a somewhat better angle, which had you shifting your free leg up so he was hitting that much deeper. His moans were louder, more intense and you knew he was probably approaching that peak you were close to. You reached down between your bodies to find your clit, circling it with a finger a few times as Dmitri thrusted into you.

“You’re close?” Dmitri asked once he noticed what you were doing, which you just nodded your head at. “Let me.”

He gently brushed his hand under yours, prompting you to move it as he started to rub similar circles on your clit. You let out a low sound as you could feel a pressure building, his touch not quite as precise but with his cock thrusting into you it was definitely enough.

You wanted to say something, yet your words were failing you and it wasn’t long until you felt that pressure move further down and you tightened around him. Your orgasm washed over you, making you arch your back with a strangled cry. You dug your fingers into the flesh of Dmitri’s shoulder, feeling him slow as you clenched around him. He moaned into your ear as he dropped his head onto your shoulder again. He thrusted a few more times before he pulled out, spilling his cum onto your stomach and thigh with a loud groan.

You could still feel your orgasm washing over you, leaving you limp against the bed as you waited for it to subside. Dmitri stepped outside into the hall for a few moments once you started to come back down, returning with what looked to be a damp washcloth from the bathroom.

“I didn’t think I would make that much of a mess,” he commented, washing his cum from your stomach and leg with the cloth. “I’m sorry.”

“You could have broken a lamp and I don’t think I would’ve noticed for a minute there,” you admitted with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it.”

“It was good, then?” he asked, turning to toss the cloth into a hamper you had near the bed.

“Yes,” you replied with a small grin as he settled onto the bed beside you. “Was it for you?”

Dmitri nodded, hovering over you to press a lingering kiss to your lips. You pressed back into it, cupping the side of his head until he pulled back to lay down beside you. With the rush of emotions and sensations ebbing out, you could feel your mind start to return to the current situation. Still, even with everything that sat on the edges, the grief and everything that came with it, you couldn’t deny the happiness that lingered in you at the moment. It would mix strangely with everything later, but you just let it be at the moment.

Still, you rolled over somewhat to face him a little more. Dmitri shifted closer to pull you into his chest, which you accepted easily as you leaned your head against his shoulder. You shut your eyes for a few moments, letting him trace his fingers along the skin of your arm and shoulder somewhat absentmindedly. However, you found yourself letting out a soft chuckle, shaking your head lightly in amusement.

“I can already see the look on Joyce’s face when she hears about this…”

“What do you mean?”

“A couple days ago, she…in a vague way, asked if there was anything between us and at the time I said no.”

“I got asked, too,” Dmitri said with a small, tired grin, “It will be an interesting topic during New Years.”

#fandom: stranger things #dmitri antonov x reader #enzo x reader

[milflewis]

i love u. so very very much. happy birthday. here’s 3k of medieval schumilton. sorry about the soulmate fic lol i will get to it eventually ! mb

The stranger raises his eyebrows as he straightens up from his bow, hand curling into a loose fist at his hip. Mick narrows his eyes at him.

He’s seen Lewis do the very same thing over and over again. It is one of the few tells the Head of the Kingsguard has — flexing his fingers when he’d prefer Mick’s father to duck and run behind him even though he can’t ask him to because no, Your Majesty, they haven’t done anything yet but I’ve got a feeling, a bad one, Sebastian, please remind the king what happened the last time he ignored one of my feelings and —

His dad grins, easy and loose, waving a hand. “No need for the formality, Bottas. You took an arrow for Mika — you do not bow here.”

The man’s — Bottas — mouth twitches, ticking up at one corner, something in his face relaxing as he stands at a casual parade rest, hands not quite behind him. The handle of the double headed axe peeks over his shoulder, stained dark wood, notched and leather wrapped. A days worth of travel dust and dirt clings to his boots and cloak, face unshaven but eyes clear and hands washed.

Bottas. Mick knows that name.

“Well?” His dad says, rising from his chair, hands on his knees because he likes to act a decade older than he is. He grips Bottas’ elbow when he walks over to him, hand clapping his shoulder. “What can I do for you? Are you staying for a while or just passing through? We have rooms to spare if you want one, and I could have food brought up. Rather late for dinner but I’m sure we’ll be able to find you something.”

Bottas shakes his head, shifting on his feet minutely. He rolls his shoulders ever so slightly. “No, thank you. I ate before I arrived. I was — I was hoping to stay for a couple of nights but —“

“Daniel thought it’d take you at least five years before you came calling but see,” Sebastian grins from the doorway, doublet open, trousers creased. “I knew better.”

His dad laughs and Bottas flicks his eyes up before turning to look at Sebastian. “And how many did you think?”

Sebastian shrugs, long silver chain under his clothes glinting in the firelight. Mick doesn’t miss how Bottas’ eyes follow it for a moment. “Less than five,” he replies, eyes bright, and lets the door swing shut behind him, Mick catching a glimpse of Jenson’s armoured shoulders standing guard in the hallway, as he steps inside, pulling Bottas in for a close embrace.

Bottas laughs, bringing his arms up to grip him back, Sebastian’s doublet bunching up under his hands. “Glad to know Ricciardo has faith in me.”

Sebastian pulls away, hands on either side of Bottas’ face. He taps him lightly on the cheek as he says, “I just knew you’d miss us too much to stay away. Lewis agreed.”

Bottas shoves him, cheeks heating. “Well if Lewis says you’re right….” His eyes are heavy with a joke that Mick does not understand but Sebastian seems to as his grin widens.

“Speaking of Lewis,” his dad says, arms crossed, leaning back against his desk. “I would’ve thought you’d bring him with you?” He looks at Sebastian who shrugs, lips struggling to press together around the stretch of his smile as his face lights up, delighted with himself. “I was with Daniel and a few others,” he replies, not looking at Bottas, eyes wide. “I didn’t know if this visit was a secret or not.”

Bottas’ smile flattens into a dead-eyed stare. Sebastian turns to blink at him. “Considering how things were left with him last time.”

“And how,” Bottas says, quietly. “Were things left last time?”

Sebastian tilts his head to the side, smile sliding crooked. “As I just said, I don’t know. Did you not hear or is that left ear still bothering you?”

“Alright.” His dad rolls his eyes at the two of them, cutting Mick a look of fond exasperation. His dad doesn’t like many people or, well, that is not entirely true. He likes people but he just doesn’t have the patience most of the time. There are very few he will tolerate at a late hour, especially one where people will not talk directly to each other. He remembers his hand on Bottas’ shoulder, how he stood like Lewis. He looks at the easy way Sebastian stands in the man’s space, even as Bottas glares at him.

You took an arrow for Mika.

Mick came up with a game three months into Lewis training him, desperate for an insight into the man’s life, desperate for anything. Lewis had played along in that way that he does where Mick isn’t sure if he understands why Mick seeks him out when he doesn’t need to, why he catches Mick watching him so often. For every hit Mick manages to land on Lewis, Lewis tells him a story, about anything at all as long as Lewis is in it.

This one, Lewis had said, tapping a thumb along the thin white nick on his jaw, barely longer than a nail. It was nearly fully covered over by hair. Mick squinted against the sun, leaning in closer.

A friend gave it to me. During the Bull campaign, I had broken a few fingers and so, could no longer shave by myself. He had flexed his hand, fingers long and thick and stretching, covered in thin tattoos. But to let someone that close to your throat with a blade, he had laughed. Not very easy, you know? Still. It had started to bother me. I hate, he said, mouthing twisting. Having a long beard, especially when it is messy. Gets in the way. How Seb does it, not a fucking notion. Apologies for the language, my prince, he’d grinned and danced away when Mick kicked at him.

Your friend, Mick had poked as Lewis, like always, came wandering back. Lewis had only shrugged, pulling his sweat dark shirt over his head and swapping it for a new one. Guanyu grinning at him, a few feet away where he was leaning against a pillar, waiting to escort Mick to afternoon audiences.

Valtteri Bottas, Lewis said, face soft. A good man. The best perhaps, if I am being completely truthful, but truly awful at giving you a shave. When he looked at him, smiling, Mick could see the scar again.

Or at least, he is when Daniel is trying to make him laugh with dirty jokes – I don’t know if you’ve heard the one about the honey badger and a bottle of gin but it nearly got me killed. Mick choked on his water and Lewis grinned, slapping his back.

“Mick?”

His dad is looking at him, eyebrows raised, and Mick clears his throat, the back of his neck growing hot. “Yes?”

“Would you go and bring Lewis here?”

“It’s his night off,” Mick says, a little too quickly judging from how Valtteri Bottas looks at him. Sebastian laughs beside him. “I know,” his dad says. “But he will be angry with me if we wait until morning to tell him that Bottas is here, and I am not in the mood for an angry Lewis Hamilton.”

Sebastian laughs again, nudging Bottas with an elbow as he asks what happened to the gloves that he sent him and why isn’t he wearing them.

—

When Mick finds him, Lewis is sitting cross legged on the floor of the Kingsguard’s barracks, feet covered in thick socks. His shirt is loose around his shoulders and untucked. The fire in front of him throws in the room in strange shadows and glowing orange light.

He does not look up when Mick enters, only putting down his sewing as he gets closer. “My prince. Is there anything I can do for you — it’s very late, you know?”

Mick recognises the material Lewis is holding as one of Sebastian’s tunics, the deep navy of his family house. Lewis seems to be embroidering an even darker blue into the body of it — delicate tiny flowers. Mick reaches out a hand, tracing one with his fingers.

“Yes,” Mick says. “I know.”

The firelight softens the line of Lewis’s face, rounding out the bags under his eyes, catching off the metal in his ears. There is a bruise along his left jaw, under his beard, old and green and yellow.

Mick was too young when the war came around years ago. He was not out on the battlefield, on the front lines or even in the camps. He had not seen Lewis’s wounds until they had long since healed. He knows all their stories only as just that. It is more than pleasant, he has found, to see the injuries that Lewis seems incapable of not collecting when they first appear, and even better, that they come from sparring and training now than anything more sinister.

“My father is asking for you. We have a visitor.” He watches Lewis’s eyebrows raise. “And I thought I had convinced you to start calling me Mick.”

He gestures at the empty room, at the closed door and darkened windows. “And we’re alone. As you asked.”

Lewis hums, pressing his lips together. “So we are.” And then he falls quiet. Mick has the suspicion that he is being laughed at.

He rolls his eyes, holding out a hand to help Lewis up. “Come. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Lewis grins when he takes it, a bite in the dark, fingers curling around Mick’s. He doesn’t stand up, bending his head over their hands, hair piled on the top of his head in elaborate braids, exposing the back of his neck in one long vulnerable line.

The scar on his throat wraps around from the front, ending in the nape of his neck, thick and white and shocking in the low light.

“As my prince wishes,” Lewis says again, quiet like he is saying something else, and his mouth presses quickly against the back of Mick’s hand, thumb digging into his palm.

Mick swallows, stomach swooping. He pulls his hand away, flicking Lewis on the forehead before moving away. Lewis laughs behind him, loud in the silent room, and Mick turns his back on him so he can smile.

Lewis catches up with him just barely out of the room, bumping his elbow with his, boots pulled on, shirt tucked in but rumpled, jacket open. There is a long knife strapped to his left thigh. He looks solid and broad, eyes still gentle with rest and warmth. The skin on his hand where Lewis kissed tingles. Mick hasn’t been able to stop smiling.

He catches Lewis’s gaze as he falls into step with him and Lewis’s grin grows with whatever he sees on Mick’s face. Mick has been thinking someday for a while now, around Lewis, and he is starting to think that, maybe if he plays this right, someday will become today.

—

Jenson gives Lewis a two-fingered sloppy salute when he sees him, shifting on his feet. Lewis exhales, raising one eyebrow. “I’d tell you to be at ease but,” he says, gesturing at Jenson’s casual stance and relaxed face. Jenson only grins, pushing the door open with his foot, winking at Mick as they pass.

Lewis laughs when he sees Bottas and barely hesitates before he’s crossing the room, throwing his arms around the other man, half lifting him off his feet. Bottas lets him, one hand cradling the back of Lewis’s head. He is careful not to touch the thick scar on his neck. He’s blushing faintly when Lewis releases him, the lines around his mouth tender. When they settle, Lewis still holding his elbow loosely, Bottas looks years younger, at ease for the first time since he arrived.

“I have your shield.” Lewis is grinning, all the exhaustion from earlier bled away. “It’s back in my quarters. I can go fetch it?”

Bottas shrugs and Mick notices how Sebastian’s shoulders loosen as he replies, “No need. I can pick it up in the morning.”

“You are staying then?” Lewis is watching him carefully, still smiling. Bottas looks at his dad then, head inclined in deference. “If you will have me.”

His dad waves a hand. “I told you. You are always welcome here. If not for what you did for Mika, then what you did for me. And besides, I would never hear the end of it from these two if I turned you away.”

Sebastian grins as Lewis rolls his eyes, tugging Bottas into one of the seats by the fire, glancing back at Mick as he goes.

“You’ve met?” Lewis asks Bottas who shakes his head, obviously amused. Sebastian drops onto the thick carpet before the fire, stretching out like a cat. “Prince Mick Schumacher,” Lewis says, waving his wrist with a grand flourish. “Son of King Michael and Queen Corinna Schumacher. Age twenty five, proficient in swordplay and hand-to-hand combat, likes reading and blueberry jam and ducking his guards.”

Mick laughs, stomach heating, and kicks at Lewis’s feet as he drops into the chair by Sebastian’s head. “Proficient?” Bottas looks like he’s biting back a smile. “That’s high praise, you know, coming from him. You must be very skilled.”

Mick shrugs, trying to swallow as his throat sticks dry and scratchy. “I have good teachers.” He resolutely ignores the look Sebastian throws him.

Lewis jerks back, twisting in his seat. “What is that supposed to mean – ‘coming from him’?” Bottas stares at him, opening his mouth but Lewis never gets to hear what it means because his dad interjects from across the room, seated back at his desk.

“Wait. Mick ducks his guards? Regularly?”

Lewis and Sebastian both turn the same unimpressed flat looks at their king, the movement fluid and so in tune with each other you would think they had practised it. “And where,” Sebastian starts, slowly. “Do you think he could’ve gotten that particular trait from?”

His dad falters, jaw working, and Mick turns away, hiding his smile. Lewis winks at him.

—

Jack is looking out the window, the low morning sun glinting off the steel of his armour, when Mick comes out of his room, pulling on his boots.

“Ready?” Mick asks, and Jack grins at him, popping a grape into his mouth. “Just waiting for you, Mickie.” He swipes another handle of fruit from Mick’s breakfast tray before side stepping him to get at the door first. He pauses, hand trapping Mick’s fingers on the handle, for just enough time for Mick to get irritated before swinging it open wide, forcing Mick to scramble back, nearly tripping over Jack’s feet.

Jack laughs behind him and Mick regrets the five months he spent pestering and petitioning his dad to allow Jack to be his sworn shield.

“I thought Guanyu was on shift this morning.”

Jack falls into step with him, one hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes alert for all that he’s still smiling. “You know, someone could think you are growing tired of my company. Not me, of course, I am well aware I’m your favourite, heavy burden that it is — you’re so clingy — but one could worry.”

Mick rolls his eyes, and frowns slightly. Jack’s hair is longer than he’s seen it in years, not by a lot, mind you, but just — longer. Jack hates when his hair is long, hates how hot it makes him, hates how it falls in his face. Mick presses his lips together, looking away. He wonders who has caught Jack’s eye, who he’s trying to impress.

“You’d do well to worry more,” Mick says and nearly walks into a visiting merchant coming their way as he avoids Jack’s ankle kick. Mick is red in the face when they continue on, trying not to smile, as Jack laughs beside him.

“Ah,” Jack says, smug and terrible, and Mick is definitely going to find out who Jack has become interested in now and be insufferable about it. “Lewis is already here before us. I’ll leave you to his very capable hands then.”

Mick gives in, shoving him away by the shoulders, which isn’t even as satisfying as it should’ve been because Jack, the arsehole, catches himself before he falls, cackling as he wanders away.

“Having fun?”

The circles under Lewis’s eyes aren’t any lighter in the morning light. Mick isn’t all that surprised. It had been late when he left Lewis and Sebastian to another one of Valtteri’s stories, laughing and fire warm and wine drunk, and they hadn’t seemed like they were stopping anytime soon. Still, Lewis looks good — happy, well rested.

“No,” Mick says, mouth twisting into a petulant frown. Lewis’s laugh is loud and when he throws Mick’s sword to him, metal bright in the sun, Mick catches it easily.

“Will you be at the feast tonight?” Mick asks, when it looks like Lewis will continue talking about Jack and him. Lewis grimaces, mouth twisting, and Mick walks into the ring, blinking against the sun, trying not to smile.

“Of course,” Lewis says, not bothering to hide his lack of excitement, settling his weight onto the balls of his feet, stance familiar. He holds his sword like it’s an extension of himself, like he barely even registers it as something other. Watching him and Sebastian fight always draws a crowd.

Mick shuffles over a few steps, Lewis following him, eyebrows raised, until the sun is at Mick’s back and in Lewis’s eyes. Mick grins at him. “You still owe me a dance.”

Lewis’s smile is a small and lovely thing. Mick can feel it in his belly, hot and sweet, filling him up. “So I do,” Lewis murmurs, and when Mick darts forward, Lewis is there with his sword raised to deflect him, eyes bright.

#i lowkey highkey hate this lmao. writing rn is like. Pulling Teeth. but we move #couldn’t write the soulmate one and was like. what does kyle like? schumilton. check. knights n shit. check. jack doohan. check. #kyle tag #schumilton #f1 rpf fic #stuff i wrote #lewis/mick #formula 1 #little fics