#something they can work with for their next reply

[yoursweetestbunny22]

Toxic!Rafe Cameron x reader

Sinopse: When rafe’s jealousy leads to yn being locked in the Cameron’s wine cellar

Warnings:Toxic Relationships,Psychological Abuse,Confinement/Imprisonment

Intense Jealous, Emotional Manipulation, Control Issues Disturbing Themes

I could hear the lock click behind me, echoing in the dim, musty air of the Cameron's wine cellar. The chill seeped through my thin dress, making my skin prickle as I realized what had just happened. Rafe had locked me in.

"Rafe!" I banged on the heavy wooden door, my voice rising in panic. "This isn't funny! Let me out!"

Silence.

I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from the other side. Nothing but the distant hum of the air conditioner. My heart pounded in my chest, the reality of the situation settling in. Rafe had lost it. Again.

"Rafe!" I screamed, my fists pounding harder. "Open the fucking door! This is insane!"

Finally, I heard his footsteps approaching. The door didn't open, but his voice came through, cold and infuriatingly calm.

"Why should I, Y/N?" he asked, the sneer evident in his tone even through the thick wood. "So you can run off to see him again?"

"What are you talking about?, who’s him?" I demanded, my voice cracking with frustration. "I haven't seen anyone! You're making things up in your head!"

“You know, sweetheart… I’m a proactive type of p-p-person, and when we have a problem, we have to resolve it before it gets worse… DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” He shouts

"Rafe... I don't know what's happening. I'm scared. Please let me out..."

"Oh, really?" he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then explain why you were so cozy with Topper at the party. Whispering, l-laughing. Do you think I'm b-blind?..DO YOU THINK YN??” he banged on the door with force, and I flinched back in fear.

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my anger in check. "Rafe, it wasn't like that. We were just talking. You know how he is, always joking around…plus you know he still loves Sarah” I say

"You expect me to believe that?" he shot back. "I've seen the way that motherfucker looks at you. Like he wants to take you away from me,so don’t worry he don’t even think about my damn sister anymore”

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, feeling tears of frustration prick at my eyes. "Rafe, you can't keep doing this. You can't keep locking me up whenever you get jealous. It's not right."

"I can do whatever I want,"he said “ and y-y-you know why?” his voice hardening. "You're mine, y/n..no one else's. And if I have to lock you up to keep you safe from people like him, then so be it.”

I slumped against the door, my energy draining away. "Rafe, please. I love you, but this... this isn't love. It's control. You need to trust me."

"Trust you?" He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. ". Trust is for the naive doll, people like you… you’ll say anything to get your way…I trusted Sarah once, and look where that got me. She betrayed me. Everyone betrays me."

"I'm not Sarah," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I would never hurt you like that."

There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought I had gotten through to him. But then he spoke again, his voice softer, almost pleading.

"Then prove it," he said. "Stay here. Show me that you belong to me and no one else."

"Rafe, this isn't the way," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "You can't lock me up and expect me to be happy. Please, let me out. We can talk about this. We can work through it together."

Another long silence. I held my breath, hoping against hope that he would see reason.

"Fine," he said at last, his voice resigned. "I'll let you out. But remember this, if you ever betray me, if you ever give me a reason to doubt you again, it won't be the cellar next time. It'll be something much worse.”

As the lock clicked open, a rush of relief flooded through me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his embrace. He pulled me into him with such force that it felt like my ribs might crack under the pressure.

“You have to understand, doll" he murmured, his voice strained with emotion. "I only do this because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you, of someone else taking you away from me. You're mine,and I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine."

His words were like a twisted lullaby, laced with possessiveness and control. I wanted to believe him, to believe that his actions stemmed from love, but deep down, I knew it wasn't right.

"I love you too, Rafe," I whispered, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "But locking me up like this... it's not the answer."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. "I know it seems extreme, but it's the only way I can keep you safe, y/n. You have to trust me on this."

I nodded, though doubt still lingered in the back of my mind. His grip on me softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch both comforting and suffocating all at once.

“We'll get through this together," he said, his voice a mixture of determination and possessiveness. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let anything or anyone come between us again."

[dudeitiskarev]

What If… | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: Aaron gets sick on the way home from a case, and since his symptoms are too similar to pregnancies, Reid introduces him to ‘sympathetic pregnancy’. Which makes Aaron wonder… what if?

Tags/warnings: sick Hotch :(; established relationship; sympathetic pregnancy symptoms; pregnancy scare; suggestive content; Jack and Haley don’t exist in this universe.

Word count: 1.4k

Author's note: something short, sweet and silly to keep my creative juices flowing. Hope you like it!

HOTCH MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The last time Aaron got sick was over four years ago. 

Back then, he had no one to look after him, and he refused to go to the ER because it was just a cold (it took him two weeks to get a full recovery, and if it weren’t because of Penelope’s magic potion, it would’ve lasted a month). 

Now, he couldn’t wait to get home. To you.  

"No offense, Hotch, but could you please sit...over there?" JJ gestured with her head to the empty seat at the end of the jet after Hotch returned from the toilet for the third time. All the color of his face was gone. "I don't want to bring some flu home with Henry."

"It's not the flu," Aaron's voice came out raspy, and chose to sit next to Reid instead of next to JJ. His throat was still burning from puking everything he’d eaten for breakfast. It must’ve been something he ate.

"You've been feeling weird for the two days," Rossi commented, "In the mornings."

"Ugh, morning sickness is the worst," JJ casually said through a small laugh.

Emily laughed, too. "Are you implying Hotch might be pregnant?" 

Everyone laughed except for Reid. "Studies have shown that men can get pregnancy symptoms while their wives are pregnant,” he began. “It's called sympathetic pregnancy."

"You mean Hotch's girl might be pregnant?" Morgan quirked his brows.

A thick silence filled the jet, and then Rossi asked, "Have you guys been trying?" 

Hotch merely shook his head. It had been a topic of conversation before getting married, of course, and the plan of trying for a baby was after five years of marriage (you really liked each other’s company as it was) and it’s only been two. 

The idea of Hotch’s girl being pregnant vanished as quickly as it came, but Hotch didn’t let it go. He didn’t think you could be pregnant, but the constant thought of you carrying his child helped him get through the three-hour journey back home. 

He called your name as soon as he shut the front door, even though he knew you weren’t back from work just yet (he didn’t want to tell you he was feeling sick, or else you would’ve dropped everything to be there when he made it back). 

His entire body was aching by now and all he managed to do was strip out of his work clothes and get in bed, turning himself into a shivering cocoon. 

The bed sank next to him, and a soft kiss landed on his cheek, pulling him out of his not-so-deep slumber.

“Hi.” Your bright eyes were right there on his face.

“Hey.” He fluttered his eyes open to capture your whole beauty. 

"Why are you in bed?" You asked with half-a-pout. "Are you feeling sick?" Your hand flew to his forehead to feel his temperature, and your face dropped. “You’re burning.”

"I feel better now." He snuck one arm out of the bed covers and caressed your cheek to greet you properly. He’d missed you so much. 

"Why didn't you tell me?” You were quick to reprimand him with a caring frown. “I could've brought you some medicine."

"I don't know, I don't think I need it.” He shook his head, raising his brows. “I feel much better now."

He did feel better now that you were there, but he still didn’t feel quite good. 

"You look pale. Have you eaten?" You asked and he shook his head. "I’m gonna make you some soup," you replied, already getting up.

"No, just…” he grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back to bed.  “Stay here with me for a while?" 

Your whole body softened. You gave in right away, kicked off your shoes and clasped every bit off you with his body, ending up nose to nose. 

The thought of you being pregnant came to him again and he couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” You frowned.

"You know Reid," he started. "He’s the smartest person I know and he mentioned this thing that happens to men when their wives are pregnant."

"This thing?" you snickered, running your fingers through the side of his head.

"When men show pregnancy symptoms and it's the woman who actually is?"

You paused all movements for a moment. "What are you saying?"

"I don't know." He merely shrugged. "I thought it was...interesting."

You pecked his lips and went back to stroke his hair again. "You think I could be pregnant?"

"I don’t know, could you?" 

"I don’t think so. I haven't felt anything strange." You shrugged, too. 

Aaron placed a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth and stayed there, lips glued on you as he asked, mumbling, "Didn't you say the other day that your...boobs were sore?"

"Yeah?"

"And that food craving you had at almost midnight?" he then teased by your ear.

"We had," you laughed at the ticklish feeling of his deep voice. 

“Alright,” he laughed, pulling back. “You’re right.”

"But I guess it's…” You breathed in. “Unusual."

"A little." He smiled. "How effective is your birth control?"

"Very, but there’s always the risk."

You stare at each other for a moment. There was a gleam in your eyes he was sure it had some reflection of his own. He loved you so much. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were pregnant. 

“I’m gonna go to the drugstore and get you some medicine. You’re not looking very well.” You kissed the top of his head and left him there.

In the store, you looked up and a bunch of pregnancy tests winked at you. You hesitated whether to buy one or not. You hadn't felt anything odd that could point out to a pregnancy—besides what Aaron had mentioned.

"Is that all?" The cashier asked you.

You paused, looking up again. "And two pregnancy tests, please."

Soon, you were back home and found Aaron half asleep in the same position you’d left him. You told him to sit upright as you went to prepare him some herbal tea for his stomach to complement the medicine.

“This can help you for a few hours.” You sat next to him and handed him the warm mug. “But if you get worse we’ll have to go to the ER.” 

“Thanks, honey,” he replied.

“And…I bought these, too." You showed him the pregnancy tests. You’d made sure they were different brands just in case one of them wasn’t of good quality. "You planted a seed in my brain, so I guessed we could rule it out right away instead of having the uncertainty.”

“Sorry, I just…” Aaron shut his eyes for a second in deep thought. “I didn’t think it could happen before our plans since everything has turned out exactly how we want.”

“I know, but if it’s something you want to talk about… make some plan changes, we definitely should.”

He reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s rule it out first.”

“What if it's positive?" You tilted your brows with curiosity. 

"I don't know.” He smiled. “What if?" 

Maybe it was the tea you’d made him, but the color of his face was back. You went to the bathroom to get it all over with and were in and out in less than five minutes. 

“Now we wait.” You put both tests on the nightstand and set the timer for three minutes. 

Aaron tapped the bed next to him for you to join him and he pulled you close by your waist, kissing your temple. 

"I’m scared, what if it’s actually positive?”

“We’re gonna have to make some… adjustments in our lives. But now or later, I want you to know that I want it all,” he confessed, planting a squishy kiss on your cheek. 

The alarm went off and you reached for both tests right away, holding them up. 

'NOT PREGNANT', showed the first one, and a single line showed the other one.

“Okay, I’m a bit relieved.” You put the tests aside and looked at him. “And you’re… not. Are you okay?”

“I am I just…” he licked his lips. 

“Aaron, do you really want to have a baby soon?”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “We’re perfect like this. Is just… seeing JJ with her baby does make me want to hurry some of our plans sometimes.”

“That sounds like baby fever,” you teased him. 

Aaron shook his head and pulled you down in bed, attacking your face with kisses and making a sweet sound after each one. 

“Oh, someone’s feeling better,” you laughed. “Maybe we could just stick to practicing.”

“Well”—he kissed right below your ear—”I am, in fact, feeling much, much better.”

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 22: Part 1

Eklutna gives birth to her first litter: a sweet tom, a quiet tom, and an inquisitive tom.

The healers are unable to stop the bleeding. Eklutna dies at 100 moons old. Her kits are unnamed.

[Ooo, cliffhanger! But, then again, is it really? I mean, we all KNOW who the father is. It’s like half of the asks in my inbox. Y’all don’t even need me, heck, I could go on vacation for a month and just leave you guys to it! All jokes, of course, I LOVE all of the speculating and guessing you guys have been doing, and the only reason I haven’t been replying to it is that some of you guys are TOO GOOD (like, I had to double check that I hadn't accidentally leaked my own notes document good). In all seriousness though, I am going to be taking a break! I am still absolutely enjoying doing this and plan to continue for as long as you guys will stick around, but in order to stay in that positive headspace I have to take time off occasionally. Don’t worry, I won’t be gone! I’ll still be receiving and answering asks/fan art/messages it will just be slowed significantly. I’ll also be working behind the scenes to put together something special for you guys as a reward for being patient with my little vacation (Keep an eye out for a poll regarding this)! Oh, and if you have any suggestions/requests for how the blog could be better organized now is the perfect time to send those in. Anyway, this is all to say “Moon 22 Part 2 Oh No! The Consequences of my Actions!” is coming early July!]

Real talk though, apart from the announcement I just want to say how awesome you guys are. The community here has healed my heart in so many ways and I can’t wait for my own break to be over so that I can keep giving you guys pieces of this story to enjoy! While I’m gone please consider checking out other Clangen blogs on here! My personal favorites are @fallenclan the first blog I ever came across and very long running so it has lots to binge read, @jungleclan / @circus-clangen I’m like 99% sure they’re run by the same person but now that I’m typing it I’m second guessing myself, they’re also on break rn which means it is the perfect time to get caught up and ready for the next puzzle, @nettleclanstale who posts so frequently I am pretty sure they’re a wizard who pulls art straight out of their brain a instead of drawing it, and @crowclan-gen run by an irl friend of mine who’s just getting started out!

[b14augrana]

‘Portrait’

When Alexia decides to give into her curiosity and sit down at one of the street artist stalls stationed on a busy Parisian road, she leaves with something more special than a self portrait.

Alexia Putellas x reader

masterlist

Warnings: straight fluff and bad translations but dont worry its only short x

A/N: ALE RENEWED WE CAN ALL REJOICE!! 🙏

The strong Parisian sun beat down on the heads of locals and tourists alike as they walked down the crowded streets. You were perched on a stool, staring intently at your canvas as you gently painted the smile lines of a lovely old lady that stopped by your stall.

You loved your job for this very reason. You knew how hard it was to love yourself from your own perspective; you hoped to do every individual person’s beauty justice with your paintings.

Of course that wasn’t enough income on its own so every morning you found yourself in one of the local bakeries either working behind the scenes or at the front counter. Baking and painting were jobs you loved and found so similar because they both resonated with your desire to indulge in art wherever you could find it, and to you they were the simplest forms of art.

“And… I’m done. Here’s your finished portrait, madame,” you said with a smile, lifting the canvas off the easel and gently setting it into the woman’s arms.

“Je ne peux pas te remercier assez, ma chérie ! C'est beau, merci,” she replied, admiring it with tear-brimmed eyes hidden behind her glasses. You said your goodbyes and watched her walk off with a grin on her face, and then you picked up a fresh canvas and placed it on your easel.

You didn’t have time to shake your head at the many smudges of paint on your clothes as another person approached you.

“Hola!” a woman’s voice spoke, making you look up curiously. Standing before you was a blonde woman smiling slightly, gesturing to the stool behind the easel. “May I sit?”

“Of course,” you nodded, returning her smile and swirling your paintbrush in some fresh water as you prepared to paint her. “You’d like a painting, no?”

“Yes please. Also, forgive me for saying hola — I forget that I’m not in Spain,” she laughed, inciting a giggle from you.

“It’s okay. I do the same when I’m outside of France,” you added, dipping the paintbrush into some fresh paint before grazing the canvas. “So, you’re Spanish.. what’s your name?”

“Alexia. I’m here for a holiday, because I’ve finally got some time off work,” she explained with a huff. You smiled behind your easel, painting the woman’s chiseled bone structure with intricacy as you added to her face.

You liked her already. You had barely said anything to her, but something about her was genuine.

“Are you with anybody?” you asked, curious to know more about her. She nodded her head, “Only two other people, my friends Lucy and Ona. They’ve gone on a wine tasting date, which is why I’m here.”

You laughed softly as you rinsed your paintbrush. “And you? Do you have anyone to go wine tasting with?”

“Next question,” Alexia responded, smiling through laughter. You began to paint her eyes and faintly outline her nose.

The rest of the time you spent painting every detail of her face flew by as you two talked and got to know more about each other. You learned that she was a professional footballer and lived in Barcelona, which you thought was very cool. She asked about your life and you told her that you were a born and raised Parisian who spent the rest of her days at home or in the bakery. You weren’t really concerned about yourself though; you were busy looking at her, and not for the purpose of the painting.

When you had completed the last strand of hair and placed the last freckle on her portrait, the sun had dried most of it already. As she stood up and picked her purse up, you flipped the canvas around and scrawled something on the back with a slight smile.

“There you go. Thank you, Alexia,” you said, handing her the painting. She gasped quietly as she admired it, and she looked at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. “Thank you, chica!”

Even after she pulled away, her perfume clung to your skin like glue. It smelled sweet but not overwhelming… like coconut and caramel with an undertone of musk and vanilla hints. It smelled exactly how you imagined it to smell.

As you said goodbye, you didn’t reach for a fresh canvas. Alexia turned away, holding the newly painted canvas in her hands with her head down, her eyes fixed on it. She stood stagnant for a moment, scoping out every detail, and then she turned it over.

“Llámame, hermosa :)” was written on the back, followed with your phone number and a quick sketch of a flower bouquet. She immediately turned her head to glance at you over her shoulder, but you were occupied with someone else.

When she turned back around, a smitten smile was plastered across her face and she couldn’t help but feel giddy to get back to her hotel.

After another second, you looked up from your canvas, your eyes completely skipping the person sat in front of you and wandering over to the direction that she had walked in, watching the blonde woman disappear down the street.

“Est-ce que tu vas peindre ou quoi?” an irritated voice snapped from behind your easel.

“Désolé!”

[yelenasdiary]

How about the story of Nat realizing she's pregnant and dealing with it all. Then the day to day life of Nat and her babygirl

Wondering

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader

Summary: With help from her best friend, Clint, Natasha escapes the control of the Red Room and prepares for a whole new life.

Angst, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, Childbirth | 1.7K

Translations: милый (darling), я люблю тебя, солнышко (I love you, sunshine)

AC: I think this is the perfect request for the first fic of the AU! Thank you for sending this x I hope this helps set a little backstory for Nat.

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

Natasha had been nothing but quiet for the last four days since staying with Clint at his farmhouse. It was a big house for a man who lived alone, Clint assumed that his friend was worried that the widows of the Red Room would find her and take her back but the look in Natasha's eyes told him that was far from her worries.

"Alright, tell me what's going on" Clint spoke as he sat down next to Nat on the sofa. His friend looked at him and sighed lightly, "Nat, come on, you can tell me" he added. Natasha knew the time would come and she would have to talk somewhat about her time in the Red Room. She and Clint have been on the run since she met him, although this was not the first time, she was able to escape, this time was the only time they haven't found her and brought her back. 

"Remember how I was telling you about the graduation ceremony?" Natasha replied, Clint nodded. "Well, I didn't tell you all the stages before it. Before the graduation and after you've completed the program, you're to hav-" Natasha paused, the trauma of her life catching up to her, although she was still young, in her early 20s, she felt she had already lived a lifetime of trauma. Clint placed his hand on top of hers for comfort, "whatever it is Nat, we'll get through it" he assured her. 

"I'm pregnant" the words spewed out. Nat could see the questions flying around Clint's mind and deserved to answer them before he asked. "It's Dreykov's way of getting more widows without getting caught, they inseminate you, you give birth, they take the baby, and you go to what they call recovery which is just them brainwashing you until you have completely forgotten the last 9 months. After that, you go through the graduation ceremony and…well the rest is what you already know" she explained. 

Clint took a moment to process the news he was just told, "do you" He paused unsure if his question would offend his best friend, but it was something he needed to know to be able to help, "do you want to keep the baby?" He asked. Natasha nodded as a soft smile tugged at her lips, "I've done enough bad in the world, and I'll be damned if I let them do the same to my baby. I know this isn't what you expected so I don't expect you keep me here, but I do need a little time to work something out" she replied. 

"Don't be stupid Nat. You can stay here as long as you and the baby need, you're safe here, I promise" Clint spoke sternly, assuring his words got through to his best friend. Natasha hugged him tightly, thanking him for his understanding and kindness and for a moment any worries she currently had were no more. 

----

Pregnancy for Natasha was a whole new chapter that she wasn't prepared for, but she loved every single moment of it. It gave her a sense of normality; she spent her days learning new things that would help her for when her baby would enter the world. Clint helped her along the way, he even began building a small homestead for Natasha to have a little more privacy when her baby was born. It was only a few months into her pregnancy that Clint met Laura. 

Each night Natasha would read you stories from a children's book she would buy from the thrift shop, even though you weren't born yet, the little actions she did while pregnant gave her great comfort and made her even more excited to finally hold you in her arms. She would talk to you about anything she was doing, baking cookies for Clint and Laura? She would be talking you through each step and even asking you questions as if you could actually answer her, sometimes you would kick, and she would take that as an answer. 

Even through all the happiness, joy and excitement there was still worries and fears growing with each day. She was suspicious as to why she'd gone almost her entire pregnancy without even a sighting or feeling that Dreykov was after her. Clint assured her that his farm was a safe place and even offered for Natasha to join the Avengers after you were born, and she felt ready. It was an idea that she spent time thinking about but at the end of the day all she wanted to do was make sure you were happy, healthy and safe.

"Woah there милый" Natasha chuckled, rubbing her hand over her bump, "this isn't the world cup" she added. 

"Kicking a lot today?" Clint asked, taking a sip of his afternoon coffee.

"She hasn't stopped" Nat replied. Clint looked up at her with wide eyes, "she? When did you find out" he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice. Natasha couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips while her hand naturally rubbed her seven-month pregnant stomach, "I didn't need to find out" she replied, "She was always going to be a little girl" she added but she didn't let the faint memory of the Red Room bring out the happiness she had been having with each day you grew. 

Clint got up and hugged Natasha and congratulated her, he could see the sparkle in her eyes for the first time ever, he'd never seen her so happy in the few short years that he had known her. "I wanna show you something" he said, taking her by the hand and walking her out to the small homestead that he had just finished and was waiting until the next day to give her the key. 

"I was going to wait until tomorrow but given the news, maybe you want to start planning out the nursery" Clint smiled. Tears built up in Nat's eyes, "what do you think baby girl?" Natasha whispered as she looked around the empty room, "you can paint it, do whatever you like with it, this is all yours" Clint said.

"You've done so much for us, I can't thank you enough" Natasha turned on her heels and hugged him, "thank you" she whispered. 

Over the last couple months of pregnancy, Natasha was preparing for you to enter this world. She and Clint painted the nursery in a soft pastel green color, she hung a photo from her first ultrasound on the wall above your changing table, baby animal décor stickers were also put on the walls. Clint helped up together all the future and placed it wherever Natasha thought would be best and once the nursery was complete, she couldn't wait to rock you to sleep in her arms in the rocking chair or watch you play with your toys on the purple rug when you would get a little older. 

You entered the big wide world at 5:23am on a Thursday morning, healthy and a little smile that made everybody melt. Natasha didn't want to let you go, she could barely take her eyes off you, even when Clint and Laura came to bring the two of you home, she was nervous as anything when Clint held you. 

"Do we have a name yet for the little one?" a nurse asked, "we really need to get the birth certificate done today" she added. 

Natasha nodded, "Y/n Melina Romanoff" she replied with a soft smile. 

"Melina?" Clint questioned, "I'll tell you later, now give me my baby" the red head replied with a soft smile and arms wide open. 

"A beautiful name, I'll finalise the certificate" the nurse smiled, writing your name on a piece of paper. 

----

Natasha was loving every moment of motherhood, even when she felt like she was going to fall asleep while feeding you and when sometimes she thought it was going to be another sleepless night on the cards but being your mother was the only thing she wanted to do every single day. When you slept, she slept and often Clint would find her asleep in the rocking chair by your crib when he came to check on things. Clint and Laura helped as much as they could, but of course, your mother was head strong and said she was fine with looking after you on her own.

"You look exhausted" Clint said as he placed a small bag of groceries on the counter for Nat. "She just didn't want to sleep last night" she replied, pouring herself a mug of hot coffee and sitting down at the small table in her kitchen. "Why don't Laura and I take her for the night so you can get a decent sleep for once" Clint offered but Natasha shook her head, "it's not that I don't want that, I just hate the idea of not being with her" Nat admitted.

"She'll just be up at house, you need some sleep Nat, you can't keep being supermom on coffee and 3 hours of sleep each day" Clint spoke, worried for his best friend. "Besides, how else am I going to show her how great of an uncle I am if you don't let me do that" he added to lighten the mood. Natasha cocked a brow as she took a sip of her coffee, deep down she knew she had to eventually let her guard down just a little and allow others to help. She just wanted the best for you.

"One night" Natasha replied. 

Clint smiled, "you've got it" 

As the weeks turned to months, things got easier for the new mother, each day you had her in awe. Nat eventually did allow for Clint and Laura to spend more time with you while she had a little me time and caught up on sleep. She loved taking you for walks around the property in your pusher, she loved bath time and hearing your little giggles and of course capturing your sweet smile whenever she played peek-a-boo. 

At night when she would pop her head into your room to check on you, she found herself watching you for minutes on end. Her mind wondering about what life was going to bring for the two of you, what tomorrow would bring. She often wondered what your first words would be, when you would take your first steps and what all your favorite things would be but for now, she wanted nothing more than to just enjoy these early years and learn everything she possibly could about you.

"я люблю тебя, солнышко" your mother whispered as she placed the soft kiss on your forehead.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[kakushino]

hello can i get a giyuu x reader angst , like where giyuu had an argument with the reader , but it turns out the reader is pregnant? you can add any other plot twist cus i love plot twists thank you !<3

Almost

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

He had lost a lot of people in his life by his own making. He refused to lose you too.

Tags: pregnancy, arguments, blood mention, abortion mention (no actual abortion), hurt/comfort Word count: 2k

Masterlist

AN: Hope you enjoy it! I actually had a WIP of an argument + making up before, so I got to revisit it and add the pregnancy spice you asked for hehe~ Huge thanks to my dearest beta reader @glitchtricks94 for helping me clear it up (o゜▽゜)o☆ another huge thanks to @starrierknight for brainstorming with me

Giyuu’s injuries weren’t worse than normal, but that didn’t stop you from fretting over him – especially when he had a gash on his cheek, the same cheek you kissed a week ago when he was leaving for his mission. It made your chest feel tight to see his pretty face marred by demons. Your grandmother was surely rolling in her grave that such a classical beauty was hurt, the thought spurred you on to care for him.

No detail went unnoticed under your eye. He seemed tired, as usual, and a little stressed, as usual too - just a regular morning after slaying demons.

You sat him down at a western style dining table with a medical kit and supplies to clean the cuts with next to you. Your hands shook slightly when the damp cloth wiped away grime and blood, your lips pressed together when a fresh drop of blood oozed from the wound.

“You need to be more careful,” you murmured as you worked, the statement automatic, thoughtless.

Giyuu’s whole body stiffened. “Or what?”

You froze in place, your hand dipping the cloth in warm water. This was a new tone of his – a new way words could cut you if he wanted you to hurt: it was rough, serrated, mean. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders back a little, rearing for a fight. “You heard me the first time.”

You clenched your hand, leaving the rag in the water, and turned to fully face him. “Why are you so defensive? I meant no harm,” you replied, trying to calm the storm before it fully set in.

He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair he had sat in over. The look he shot you sent your heart galloping in your chest, from fear or indignation, you didn’t know. “You’ve done enough. Leave me be.”

Did he like you like this? Was the hurt in your eyes enough? That was – did he like the way it glinted, the way it caught the light? Hours upon hours spent on making your suffering pretty, and perhaps now it would pay off. He could cut you down into something pretty if he wanted to, and maybe you would let him.

Before he could walk away, before he could twist the rusty blade, you rose from your seat, “I have done nothing to warrant this tone with me, Tomioka Giyuu. Now tell me-“

"Stop bothering me," he cut you off, heading towards the door.

A violent whirlpool of emotion threatened to drown you, and for once, you let go. “You- you oaf! I can’t stand you being like this! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect,” he snapped, voice like a viper and words just as stinging. “Or at least it would be if I didn’t have you nagging me every time. I’ve been through this enough to know what to do with myself. Unlike you who sits here all pretty and safe and fat, ready to wrap a bandage and call it a day.”

You flinched, for the first time in your husband’s presence, tears springing from your eyes, which you rapidly blinked away. What have I ever done to deserve this? You had waited on your hands and knees for this man every time he’d come home battered and bruised and broken and put him back together, without complaining, with love. This was what you got in return for your devotion? Pretty and useless. That’s what he basically called you.

Your throat tightened. You hardly had the energy to respond so you turned away and just… left. You couldn’t continue listening to Giyuu when he sounded so much like… like Shinazugawa. Whatever was bothering him best be left alone to cool off before you could talk about it.

You nodded to yourself as you packed an overnight bag. Some time apart would be good for you both. You knew he wouldn’t be sent out on a mission for a few days again, since he just returned from a longer stint, so you would come back tomorrow and try to resolve it then.

It was time for a check-up with a midwife anyway.

He had really said all that.

And you left.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you left, as you should. He had treated you like garbage.

There was no going back, no taking back his idiocy, no swallowing back his words.

‘Let's stop fighting’ was at the tip of his tongue. ‘Come here and let me hug you’ nearly spilled from his lips. ‘I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry’ choked him up as you walked away.

He knew you were right. You did nothing wrong.

He felt nothing.

He was worth nothing.

Giyuu picked up the shards of his heart up and finished cleaning up his wounds. A short bath later, he walked into the kitchen to find food already made for him, now long gone cold. It just reminded him how much he butchered his relationship by what – stress and tiredness? A demon taunting him right before its death? If so little shook him up, did he even deserve to be with you?

A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of leaving you. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, hurting you and putting you in danger for being a Hashira’s partner yet wanting you to remain by his side.

After eating his portion, he made tea and waited to see if you would join him. There was no movement in the house at all; were you in your shared bedroom, laying in bed as you were used to when upset? He would give you time to cool off, give himself time to breathe, and then he would approach you with a clearer head. He needed to apologize.

One hour. Two hours.

Had he angered you so much that you wouldn’t come out? Your spats had never lasted this long.

The tea had long grown cold, but Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to make more. There were no sounds coming from the house.

Were you even here?

The thought jolted him from his seat, quickly walking to your shared bedroom.

“Love?”

Nothing.

“I’m coming in.”

He somehow expected it, though he’d hoped against it. You weren’t there.

Already turning to check all other rooms, he called out your name. His pace was brisk, his throat starting to clog up with a familiar emotion. Claws of anxiety sunk into his stomach, his heart beat like a drum, his lungs struggled to take in air. You weren’t there.

Where were you?

He ran through the whole estate and back two times but came up with no clue as to where you were. Panic mounted, crawling up his spine like a spider he couldn’t shake away.

Giyuu slammed the gate of his home open, very nearly running into his elderly neighbour.

She was hardly phased, though confused by his frazzled visage. “Tomioka-san? What’s got you in such a hurry, young boy?”

“Have you seen my wife?!” he’d never been as rude as he was now, but you were gone so what was he supposed to do?

“Your wife? Oh, that’s right, I saw her. If I recall, she was on her visit… hmm, who was she going to visit?” his neighbour mused. Giyuu waited with all the patience Urokodaki beat into him, that was – quite impatiently. “Oh right! A midwife! I was very surprised when-“

He stopped listening, or rather, he stopped hearing anything going on around him. A midwife? A midwife was a profession with a very specific set of skills for a very specific group of people… Did that mean-?

“Isotani-san,” Giyuu interrupted, breathless, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you saying my wife is pregnant?”

She squinted at him, “You didn’t know?”

It felt as if lightning came from clear skies and struck him. Every nerve itched with some kind of energy telling him to move.

He later vaguely remembered asking his neighbour for the direction you left in, but at the time, he saw nothing, and felt everything all at once.

Were you going to… terminate it? Were you going to tell the midwife, and would she terminate it? Was the midwife going to terminate it and help you move on? Would you move on without him?

Thoughts racing, heart galloping, Giyuu felt feverish. He stumbled back, deaf to his neighbour’s concerned questions as he turned the way you had left just hours ago. One foot in front of the other, a step by step, getting faster with each meter he passed until he was running nearly as fast as Uzui, desperation spurring him on.

Kanzaburo flew overhead, and when he cleared the village bounds, he called out to get the crow to lead him to you.

Time was of the essence. He may have botched his life, but he was too selfish to let go of you. He wanted, no- needed to get you back. You were his love, his soul, his home. He wouldn’t be able to go on if you left.

He felt crazed, desperate, as he ran.

Giyuu would have been faster had he not have to follow Kanzaburo but he wouldn’t be able to find you alone. He felt as if he was racing against the time. Any minute now, you would be in a the midwife’s home, waiting for the release from his clutches; any second now, you would sever the only tactile link you had to him – your baby.

His baby.

He swore, his mind supplementing him with your argument. It had been all his fault, he’d just lashed out because of nothing, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How childish he’d been – and he was supposed to be a father? No, he wanted to be a father. He’d fix himself and he’d support you and he’d even carry you your whole pregnancy, so you didn’t have to walk. He’d learn to cook more than the basics to feed you and your baby.

Please, let me be in time.

Then he saw you.

The whole world seemingly froze, grey and empty save for you.

You were a pearl amongst rocks, still as beautiful as the first day he saw you, as beautiful as you were on your wedding day.

Giyuu didn’t stop, even as you turned to him in surprise when he called your name. He didn’t stop until he had you in a soul-crushing hug, tight and near bruising – one he immediately eased up on, since he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Calm down, Giyuu! What’s going on?”

“D-don’t-“ he stumbled over his words, still frantic and breathing heavily, “don’t get rid of it!”

You were confused, “Get rid of what?”

His hands were heavy clutching onto your clothes, his frame nearly hanging onto you. “Our – our child,” he gasped out. “Isotani-san told me you were- she told me you were pregnant.” His words came out in a rush, eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils darted all over your face for a sign of – of anything, be it forgiveness, anger, sadness, anything.

Looking at him in such a state, near quivering in his spot, you felt powerful. Giyuu was at your mercy for once. You could topple him as easily as a sandcastle, crush him under your boot and grind down to juice him of all that made him who he was. It made you realize you held just as much power over him as he did over you. Oddly, you felt reassured - of his love, of your love, of the relationship. 

Heart hammering in your chest, cheeks filling with warmth, the adoration you carried in your heart spilled over and pooled in your stomach. You hungered for more of this power, positively starved to sink your teeth into him and drain him.

But that could wait.

“I am indeed pregnant,” you confirmed, your hands resting on his arms, thumbs stroking soothing lines over his muscles. You paused, letting the seconds painfully stretch out, “I’m not terminating the pregnancy.”

His whole being sagged with relief. Giyuu fell to his knees in slow motion, his hands sliding down your yukata to rest over your hips, now clutching the fabric there with a weak grip. “Thank gods…” he rasped out, his breathing stuttered as if holding back sobs. “Please, love, let’s not- I apologize – I apologize for everything. I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was wrong…”

His impossibly blue eyes met yours, the surface glistening with unshed tears, his guilt bitter but his plea tasting sweet on your tongue. Saliva gathered in your mouth, wanting more.

Did that make you a bad person?

“You dismissed my concern,” you stated, fighting back any expression wanting to take over your face. “You said I nag you. You called me useless.” And pretty, your mind supplied. He’d also called you fat, so there was that. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Giyuu’s lips were downturned, “You didn’t. I was an oaf.” His admission did nothing to soothe the ache he’d given you. “I’m willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy of my misdeeds.” He let go of your yukata, smoothing over the wrinkles he made. He didn’t know what to do with himself, trying not to fidget as you rolled his actions and words in your mind.

“There will be no punishment,” you told him. If possible, he became even more tense, the need for absolution great. Perhaps no punishment would be a punishment of itself. “But don’t think you’re entirely forgiven. I accept your apology; you however have to make up for it your own way.” You studied his earnest expression, brows slightly furrowed as he started thinking about ways to win you back. It shouldn’t be too hard. He did it once, he could do it again.

Giyuu slowly stood up, taking your hands in his. “I won’t disappoint you, love,” he said resolutely, kissing your fingertips softly. He adored you, with his whole heart, mind and body.

Everything would work out – just like the ice always melts and clouds disperse, a typhoon passes and the sea calms.

“If you pull this act again, I’m leaving.” You glared at him for a second to get your point across. Giyuu nodded and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

He almost lost you and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Thanks for reading! Reblog or comment if you liked it :3

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Whimpers (Art Donaldson)

Description: Y/N gets turned on by the noises Art makes while playing Tennis.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,432k

Author’s note: Currently working on a Hannibal request. Also does anybody know how I can start replying to comments under my posts? I’ve tried but it won’t let me and I’ve seen other people do it. Thank you!

Y/N watched intensely as Art and Patrick played. She wasn’t like Tashi when it came to Tennis. Tashi stared intensely for the game, Y/N stared intensely because of Art’s whimpers. They were hot and funny to her. Sure she knows that’s how tennis players are but Art’s sounded unique. Y/N has never said anything to him about his whimpers. They’ve been dating for a few years. At first it was all 4 of them together fooling around and they ended up getting together while Patrick and Tashi got together for a while but they didn’t work out. Y/N and Art were different; they were special. “Y/N?” She broke out of the trance she was in and looked over at her best friend. “Are you ready to go?” She asked. “Yeah sure.” She kissed Art goodbye as she and Tashi walked away. 

“Did you ever get turned on by Patrick’s whimpers during Tennis?” Y/N asked Tashi. Tashi gave her a weird look, “What?” Y/N sighed. “I know it sounds weird but when Art whimpers I-” “Oh my god you think it’s hot?” Tashi asked in surprise. Y/N felt her face go red from embarrassment. “Hey don’t be embarrassed, it's just funny.” Y/N looked at her and shook her head. “It’s ridiculous really.” Tashi laughed at her words and shook her head, “It’s not but have you told him?” “Hell no he’d probably break up with me.” Tashi laughed even harder, “He loves you. He isn’t breaking up with you.” “How do I even tell him?” Tashi shrugged, “Hey when you whimper during Tennis it’s hot and I want you to take me on the court.” They both laugh. “Girl, just tell him.” 

Y/N sat in her and Art’s shared bedroom with her ipad on her lap. She watched a few of Art’s matches and listened to his grunts and whimpers as he hit the ball. She got wetter by the second listening to him. She slid her hand in her PJ pants over her now wet panties and softly rubbed her clit letting out a soft moan. She closed her eyes as she listened to her man’s noises as he played. Her finger rubbed faster as her moans got more frequent. Her hips started moving up to meet the speed of her fingers.

She wished that Art was here and rubbing her instead. As his whimpers and grunts got more intense her orgasm got closer and closer. “Babe?” Y/N’s eyes snapped open and her fingers stopped. Art stood there by the bed with a red face. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but Art beat her to it, “Were you getting off to me playing Tennis?” He asked. Now Y/N’s face was red. “I mean kinda.” She confessed. He crawled onto the bed and laid next to her looking at her. “Kinda?” He asked, taking the hand that had been down her pants.

She watched as he put the two fingers in his mouth.She gasped as he licked her fingers clean of her juices that soaked her panties. “What does kinda mean?” He asked her. “I uh I like your whimpers and grunts as you play.” She confessed. He hummed and moved to kiss her neck. “So when I play your panties get wet?” He asked. She nodded as his lips moved down her neck. “That’s so hot.” He groans as he pulls her loose fitting shirt down to expose her hardened nipples. He leaned down and licked one of them.

She threw her head back as he wrapped his lips around her nipple. “Art please.” She moans as he wettens her nipple. He moved down to her belly. “Take the shirt off.” He told her. She does and throws it somewhere in the room. He goes back to kiss down her body until he reaches the spot she needs him most. He nuzzles his nose in her clothed pussy. “Art.” She moaned and gripped his hair. He pulled away and pulled her PJ bottoms down revealing her wet panties. “Holy shit.” He says with a smile.

Her pink panties had a huge dark wet spot on them. He ran his fingers up the spot making her whimper. He chuckled and pulled them down revealing her wet pussy. “Art as much as I want this I want to hear you. Let me please you.” She begged. “You will but let me hear you first. Your whimpers are much sexier than mine.” He tells her and dives into her pussy. She moans loudly as he doesn’t give her a second to breathe. Her hands gripped his hair as his tongue licked her clit. She moans his name as his lips wrap around her tiny clit and suck.

He takes his fingers and swirls around her dripping wet hole. “Art please.” She whimpers. He hums against her causing vibrations. One of his fingers penetrates her hole causing her to whine as she feels his finger inside of her. He adds another and starts pumping as he eats her out. She feels dizzy as she lays her head back enjoying Art’s fingers and mouth. It wasn’t long before her high was near. “Art fuck I’m close.” She whined. He pulled away and winked. She glared at him as he took off his shirt. “So what was that about you wanting to make me whimper?” He asked.

She laughed and pulled him on top of her kissing his lips for the first time that night. His lips tasted like her pussy but she didn’t mind. She flipped them around so she was on top. His shorts still on him but his hard dick was as visible as it could get. She pulled down his shorts and his boxers gasping as his hard dick sprung up and was leaking pre cum. She smirked at him and got in between his legs laying on her stomach. Her hand wrapped around him causing him to gasp. “Fuck.” He groaned out as she jerked him off.

She wasn’t going fast, teasing him as she liked to hear him whine. “Faster baby.” He begged. Her eyes not leaving his face as it shows how deep in pleasure he is. Her hand speeds up but not by much. She was waiting for those whimpers and grunts that turned her into a puddle almost every time she heard them. “Art baby stop holding back those pretty noises.” She tells him. Her hand finally sped up a lot more and those pretty noises started falling from his lips. Art has never been the quiet type in bed but he still held back. But right now at this very moment he didn’t.

Y/N replaced her hand with her mouth. “Fuck.” He whimpered feeling her wet mouth around him, giving him the best head he’s ever had. He was big enough to hit the back of her throat. She held back the gagging just to hear him. He sounded so sweet and sexy. He’s never been this loud before and she was enjoying just as much as him. “Fuck Y/N I’m gonna cum.” He whined. She stopped and sat up smirking at him. He opened his eyes and glared at her as if he didn’t just edge her before. She crawled back up so she was straddling him and grabbed his hard dick again.

He watched as she lined him up with her pussy and slid onto him without ease. They had a pretty good sex life but tonight was the best it’s ever been. She placed her hands on his chest and slowly moved her hips. He whined and she wasn’t sure if it was from the feeling or the fact that she was teasing him. It was still hot though.

As she moved her hips she realized that she was also teasing herself. She had been close too. Her eyes closed as her hips picked up speed. His hands grabbed her hips and squeezed them hard causing her to moan. His eyes remained on her as they both let out the dirtiest noises.

Art couldn’t stop grunting and whimpering at the feeling. He was getting so close again and by the way Y/N was clenching around him she was close too. “Fuck Art I’m close.” She moaned out. “Me too.” He whined as her hips lost their rhythm. Her moans got louder and louder until she came hard with a scream of Art’s name. He whined loudly as he came right after her. She looked down at him, “Your whimpers are way hotter than mine.” She said and leaned down to kiss him. .

[goldenempyrean]

Hello, would you mind writing a fic with Sicknat x reader on a mission? with phrases like: “I'm never sick” “it's just a little tired” “it's all Tony's fault. I will kill him” “take care of yourself” ?

Caring For A Widow

〚 Notes - Jeez, this request is old! I’m gonna try and get through some of my old ones over the next week :D I thought I'd start with this as I haven't written my fav redhead in a while! :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Natasha let's you take care of her when a mission goes sideways. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1044 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“I swear I’m gonna kill Tony.” Came the annoyed grumble from the redhead leaning against your chest, “This is his fault.” She sniffled, rubbing her nose roughly against the sleeve of her hoodie, rolling her eyes when you chided her for not using a tissue instead. 

To be fair to her though, this wasn’t exactly the best of situations. You were both huddled in a tiny safe house in the middle of nowhere, having just narrowly escaped an ambush during your mission and to make things worse, Nat wasn’t feeling great. 

She’d mentioned it in passing a few days ago that her throat had hurt but it had been such a busy few days you hadn’t thought to check up on her. Of course, she hadn’t told you when it had gotten worse, she was Natasha after all - as stoic as ever. But now she was here, miserably ill in a cold, unfamiliar house just longing to be back home. 

“I’m never sick,” Nat mumbled solemnly, though her congested voice and the deepening circles under her eyes betrayed her. She curled tighter against you, seeking warmth in the drafty safe house. 

“I know, I know,” You replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her clammy forehead. “Your timing sucks.”  

She lifted her head just enough to shoot you a look but with the way she was cuddled against you, it held no malice behind it. “Have you told the team we need extraction already?” Nat changed the subject and pushed herself up a little to peer at the laptop which you’d been quietly working on as it sat on your knees. 

You nodded, tilting the screen down so she could see it properly, “They know. Steve wants to be cautious of using air space since they clearly knew we were coming so he’s organising us a car instead.” The redhead stifled a yawn as you explained and you paused to lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, “It’ll be a few hours before it arrives, so we’ve just got to camp out here for a bit.” 

Natasha shivered against you a little, pulling her hoodie a little closer to her. “You can't shake those chills can you baby?” 

“No.” She mumbled thickly, unable to hold back a second shiver. 

She turned away to muffle a rough cough into her arm and you gave a sympathetic pout in return before having an idea, “Alright, stay put," You instructed gently, pressing a comforting kiss to her temple before carefully slipping out from beneath her. 

You knew that she needed something to soothe that throat of hers, so what better than tea. The kitchen of the safe house was sparse, but you smiled to yourself as you managed to find a small kettle and some basic supplies. This’ll do. 

You filled the kettle and set it to boil, whilst it began to heat up, you returned to Nat's side. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you into a hot bath," You said gently, offering her a hand to stand up. 

The redhead hesitated, clearly not wanting to move from her spot. It was strange to see her so lethargic, “A bath?" She echoed, her voice hoarse and congested. 

“Mhm.” Your hum of agreement was followed by small smile, “You like taking baths when you’re not feeling well.” She couldn’t argue with that, instead sniffled quietly before pushing her knuckles up to the underside of her nose before stifling a sharp sneeze. 

“It’ll help clear up some of that congestion too.” You added when she groaned quietly to herself, sniffling at her red nose again. The safe house was small, that couldn’t be argued but at least this one was relatively modern meaning luckily for you two, the hot water was actually hot instead of barely lukewarm as many of the other houses had. 

It didn’t take long to run. Once the bath was ready, you helped her ease into the tub. Natasha murmured a grateful “Thank you” and let out a small sigh as the warm water seemed to relieve the tension in her shoulders and muscles. 

While she soaked, you returned to the tiny kitchen area, preparing the tea. You found some honey and added a generous spoonful, knowing it would soothe her sore throat. As the tea steeped, you went back to check on her. 

"How are you feeling?" you asked, leaning against the old, wooden doorframe. 

Natasha had her eyes closed, the steam from the bath working wonders on her congestion. "Better," she admitted, her voice already sounding a touch clearer. "Thank you." 

“Don’t fall asleep in there, let me know if you need anything, okay?” You smiled and left her to relax for a while longer, returning to pour the tea into a mug. You knew Nat appreciated everything you were doing to take care of her, but you also knew how important it was for her to decompress alone for a little.  

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel with damp hair clinging to her neck, you were waiting with the warm drink in hand. 

She accepted the mug gratefully, taking a careful sip. "This is nice," she murmured, her voice softening a little as her sleepy eyes blinked to keep herself focused. You knew the residual heat from the bath and the tea were probably making her tired. 

"Good," You smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her back to the makeshift bed. "Now, let's get you wrapped up in some blankets and you can nap until extraction gets here.” 

It seemed she was too tired to argue about napping (she usually would make a fuss about wanting to be on alert just incase) and instead, she allowed you to tend to her a little as you tucked her in. Natasha settled against the pillows; the tea cradled in her hands. You sat beside her, one hand gently stroking her damp hair. 

"I still want to kill Tony," She mumbled sleepily, though there was no real bite in her words, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep against you. 

You chuckled softly, kissing her forehead once more, “We'll save that for when you're feeling better." 

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter @widows201 @llovergirleraa @danveration @idkeithershawty @rainedontknow @poison-blackheart @loveshineslikethesky @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @ahintofchaos @scarlettssub @wandanats-goodgirl @nuianced-tck-enby @maomaoincomming @anne-lister @rianlovelygirl @taliiiaasteria @swaqcenix @inluvwithfandom

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

if you like that, what if i did this?

pairing: han x f.reader, lee know x f.reader, han x lee know

genre: smut

word count: 3.7k

an: ooooh she writes something that isn’t chan~~ who is she~~? (a little nervous to post this one. but i really like it. lmk if you do too?)

masterlist

warnings: member x member (if you’re not comfortable with this, i understand- you can just skip this post), masturbation, oral (all receiving), switch lee know?, soft dom han?, implied reader enters sub space, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play. this is fiction and in no way represents real life.

“are you sure it’s okay if i stay here?” you asked. a water pipe had burst in your apartment and it was completely flooded. unsure of what to do, you called your best friend jisung. he encouraged you to crash at his place until it was fixed. he insisted on it actually and you didn’t really have the option of turning him down. you literally had no where else to go. so here you were, on his door step, duffle bag in hand.

“of course it’s okay.” jisung answered. his heart gave a squeeze at the sight of you in your oversized hoodie. you just looked so cuddly. he shook his head and shoved those thoughts back down. he reminded himself that you didn’t like him like that and he needed to keep his emotions in check if you were going to be sleeping in his bed. oh yeah, that’s the other thing. jisung didn’t really have a guest room. so the decided on arrangement was: you would sleep in his bed and jisung would crash in his roommates bed. minho said he didn’t mind.

jisung and minho were very close. the closest of friends. where there was one, you always got the other. they were always together so it was only natural that they shared an apartment. sometimes minho wondered if it went further than friendship for him. sometimes when jisung would look at him with his round boba eyes it would cause butterflies to erupt in his stomach. and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. he was still working things out.

“well don’t just stare at her, let her in.” minho calls from the couch. chuckling awkwardly, jisung steps to the side and dramatically sweeps his arm through the air, ushering you inside. you had been here plenty of times before and knew exactly where jisungs room was. you headed straight there and dropped your bag on the bed before heading back out to the living room.

“you guys up for a movie?” you asked.

—

now, maybe a horror movie wasn’t the way to go. jisung was terribly scared, as were you by the time it was over. minho remained stoic and unbothered outwardly but on the inside he was also a little spooked. and when the movie ended and the credits started rolling, you all just sort of sat there in uncomfortable silence unsure of what to do next.

“uh i guess that means it’s time for bed.” minho said, stretching his arms over his head. you tried your hardest not to stare at the sliver of exposed skin that leaked from under his shirt. there was no denying that minho was attractive. you had always thought so, and honestly jisung was just as attractive, but he was your best friend and you never wanted to ruin that.

“yeah. i’m suuuper tired and not scared at all.” jisung replied. you rolled your eyes at that.

“yeah okay.” you scoffed. you stood from the couch and headed off to your temporary bedroom. “good night.” you called over your shoulder.

—

laying in his bed, surrounded by his scent, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what could be. and you couldn’t sleep anyway, too scared to close your eyes for even a moment. so instead, you stared at the popcorn ceiling and let your mind drift to thoughts that you normally buried deep in your subconscious. what did han look like with no clothes? was he hard muscle? or soft and squishy like his cheeks? he definitely had toned arms that you caught yourself staring at on multiple occasions. so you imagined that the rest of him would be toned as well. did he have defined abs? what about hair? was there that little patch of hair between his belly button and the top of his— stop.

you needed to get a grip. you took a deep breath, but that didn’t help. his smell was all around you. your core pulsed with need. you slowly ran your hand down your body, cupping yourself over your underwear. how many times had he touched himself in this bed? did he ever think of you like you were thinking of him? guilt swarmed in your chest, but the circles that your fingers made on your clit felt so good.

a scratching noise from the window caused you to halt your motions. you froze in fear. all the scary scenes from the movie flooding back to the front of your mind. what was that? holding your breath, you waited for it to happen again. and it did. a slow rhythmic scratching against the glass. you yelped and launched yourself out of the bed and down the hall, throwing open the door to minhos room and jumping into the bed between them.

“what the—“ minho started.

you threw the blanket over your head and pulled it down, shrouding yourself in darkness. your chest was heaving, heart racing, but you felt safer now that you were between the two men.

“what’s wrong?” han asked, gently lifting the blanket.

you pulled the cover down a little to peek over the top edge. jisung thought it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

“scary noises in your room.” you said, embarrassed at your actions but not regretting them at all.

minho chuckled. “and you were the one giving han shit for being scared.”

you shoved him playfully. “shut up. i’m sleeping right here.” you made a dramatic point with your finger down to the mattress.

minho and jisung shared a quick look and then shrugged deciding that it would be okay if you slept there. honestly they would all feel a little safer. and once you were surrounded by their warmth, it didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep.

—

"what are you doing awake? It’s like 4 am." minho mumbled sleepily.

"i can’t sleep." han had been laying awake for hours now, with you asleep in between the two of them, he was having trouble calming down enough to sleep. "dude she’s got her butt against my leg."

minho scoffed. "just go back to sleep jisung."

"i can’t." he palmed himself through his sweatpants. even though it was under the cover, minho noticed.

"are you hard right now?"

han nodded.

minho rolled his eyes, but felt his own cock harden slightly at the thought. he closed his eyes again, trying to focus on anything else. but han was restless. minho could tell han was still touching himself. he sighed. “take care of it I guess. just.. be quiet. don’t wake her up." and with that, he threw his arm over his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

han carefully pulled his sweatpants off and kicked them to the floor, leaving him bare under the cover. he began to rub himself. you were so cute laying next to him. and you would shift every so often, causing your ass to rub against his leg. he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to see your bare ass, to grab handfuls of it, to spank it as he slid in and out of you. a soft moan escaped his lips.

"jisung, I said be quiet." minho hissed, annoyed at his own arousal more than he was annoyed with han.

"i’m trying. that’s as quiet as I can get." he said, chuckling. then he moaned again as his hand glided over the head of his cock. "fuck." he whispered.

minho grumbled, irritated, and shifted his body trying to find a comfortable position. but now he was having a hard time. hearing han’s soft moans only a small distance away was making him hard. he slowly slid his hand into his boxers. "damn it, han." he said, defeated, and started to stroke himself.

once han realized what minho was doing, it really escalated things. now han wasn’t only thinking about you, he was thinking about lee know and all of the ways he could make him cum. they were both pumping harder and faster now, shaking the bed slightly as they chased their highs.

your eyes slowly fluttered open. you brought your hands to your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them softly. han and lee know froze.

"what’s going on?” you mumbled. “the bed was shaking.”

"an earthquake!" han blurted out without thinking. minho rolled his eyes.

"really?" you sat up quickly, scared, pushing the blanket off of the bed in the process. that’s when you saw what was really happening. both boys had their dicks in their hands. you blushed.

"shit. we’re sorry, yn." han said.

"this is probably so weird for you." minho added. "we can sleep on the floor."

"y- you don’t have to stop." You stuttered, flustered at the sight before you.

han’s jaw dropped, speechless.

"would you like to join us, kitten?” minho asked, the epitome of confidence, using his fingers to turn your face up to him and kissing you deeply before you even had a chance to answer his question. you gasped, breathless against his lips. his strong hands traveled down, down, down.

"may I touch you?" minho asked, eyeing your chest. you nodded. he slid his hand under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin, leaving goosebumps in their path. he pulled the shirt over your head and discarded it on the floor. he kissed down your neck to your breast and quickly flicked his tongue across your nipple causing you to gasp. you turned your face toward han. he was finally catching up to what was happening. he leaned in and kissed you. it was a soft, sweet kiss. completely opposite from minho’s needy one. and it was everything you had ever imagined, and more. his lips ghosted over yours at first, testing the waters, before he pressed them against you with a little more force, gaining confidence.

"tell us what you want, baby." han whispered against your lips. hearing your best friend talk to you this way, to hear him call you baby, had you turning into a puddle in their arms. you never knew how much you needed to hear him call you that.

minho was sucking your nipple into his mouth now, making it hard to think. you shook your head no. "no? no what, baby?" han asked, this time in the form of a whisper in your ear.

“you can’t find the words, kitten?” minho asked, his breath fanning against your wet nipple.

"want you to touch him." you managed to blurt out.

han froze, unsure of what to do. he was flustered and trying to figure out his next move, but minho didn’t slow down at all. he didn’t miss a beat, he just reached over and wrapped his hand around han’s cock, pumping him slowly. han’s head fell back, his mouth open, soft pants falling from his lips.

seeing minho touch han this way, and to see han’s reaction to it, had you feeling more and more needy. you squirmed under minho’s touch, his tongue still on your nipple.

“you like to see me touch him?” minho asked against your skin, peppering little kisses around your nipple. you nodded, breathless, and unsure of what language you spoke at this point. were you mute? your brain couldn’t form anything. you started to feel light and almost like you’re floating.

minho let out an mmm accompanied by his little smirk. “if you like that.. what if i did this..?” he crawled across your body, and brought his mouth to han’s tip. you watched in eager anticipation as minho looked up through his lashes at han, silently asking for his permission. han gently combed his fingers through minhos hair and guided his lips around his cock.

the moment he entered minho’s warm mouth, han gasped, his head thrown back only for a moment before he focused his attention on minho again. han had never admitted it to anyone, but he had imagined this scenario before. had gotten off to it before. and now it was really happening. what han didn’t know, was that minho had also fantasized about this before. and with the excitement of the moment, took as much of han into his mouth as he could.

the sight before you had your pussy throbbing. begging for stimulation. you looked down at yourself, still covered by your sleep shorts, but you were distracted by lee know’s hard cock hanging down as he hovered over you to please han. minho’s cock was leaking precum out of the tip, and occasionally pulsed of its own accord, also desperate for stimulation. you slowly reached out and brushed your fingers down his length. he moaned, a muffled sound because his mouth was full. his hips jerked forward, his cock searching for your hand. you obliged and wrapped your hand around him and slowly ran you hand up and down, pumping him, spreading his precum along his shaft. you couldn’t see it, but han had a very clear view on minho’s eyes rolling back as you pumped him and as han slid in and out of his mouth. minho had never felt such pleasure.

“fuck- fuck jagi, i’m gonna cum. you have to stop.” han said, gently pulling away from minhos mouth. minho looked upset at the loss, and he pouted. jisung leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips as an apology. “i want to last.” he explained. “you’re too good at that.” he chuckled and punctuated his statement with another peck on the lips.

you whimpered out a pathetic sound, still at a loss for words, your body squirming against the sheets, begging to be touched.

minho looked down at you. “we didn’t forget about you, kitten.” he said. “are you feeling needy? want us to touch you?”

you nodded fervently, thinking you may give yourself whiplash if you weren’t careful.

“no words for us, baby?” han asked. “are you feeling a little spacey?” again, you nodded.

“poor baby~~” he cooed. minho moved himself up toward your head while han positioned himself in between your legs. he made slow work of removing your shorts, dragging out the process just to tease you. but when he made eye contact with your pussy, the look on his face changed from smug, to needy.

“want to give sungie a taste?” lee know asked.

you slowly spread your legs in response, opening yourself up to him.

“so wet, baby. all of this for us?” jisung ran his fingers through your folds, spreading your arousal and circling you clit. “we’re so lucky to have such a perfect girl.” he praised.

lee know turned your face toward him, gently caressing your cheek. “such a sweet little kitten.” his thumb ran across your bottom lip. he placed his thumb against your tongue. you instinctively wrapped your lips around it, sucking gently. minho groaned. “open that pretty mouth for me.” he instructed, guiding his tip to your lips. and as you took him into your mouth, jisung was wrapping his lips around your clit. you pulled away from lee know to look down at han, gasping for breath. his eyes were closed as he tasted you, his hips rutting into the mattress below him.

“catch your breath, kitten.” minho said. you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “good girl, open up.” you did as you were told, falling deeper into your blissful state as he began to use your mouth. he was gentle with you, but still was taking what he wanted. han groaned against your pussy, lost in the taste of you. tears were pricking your eyes as that tension in your tummy started to build. you ground your hips against han’s face, chasing your release.

“are you gonna cum, honey? gonna cum on his face?” minho asked, his cock still in your mouth. jisung slipped one finger into your hole and that’s all it took to push you over the edge. lee know pulled out of your mouth, letting you focus on han as you came. you had fistfuls of his hair, holding him in place, coating his face in your juices. he kept lapping it up until you couldn’t take it anymore and you had to push him away. your body convulsed, legs shaking and your body curled in on itself.

“fuck, baby. that was so hot.” han said. he moved to wipe his face with his hand, but minho stopped him and instead pulled him in for a kiss. and it was a sloppy one. lee know essentially licked your cum off of han’s lips and chin and suddenly, you felt like you could have another orgasm right then and there. lee know wrapped his arms around han’s tiny waist and pulled him close, their chests touching, their tongues dancing together, the tips of their cocks touching. it was a beautiful sight to see, and you hated to break it up, but you felt so empty.

you reached out and grabbed lee know’s length, pulling him toward you. he reluctantly broke the kiss, and let you pull him. han looked completely fucked out, completely lost, completely in love. his eyes were closed and his knees were weak. minho was already in between your legs before jisung even recovered from that kiss. the best kiss of his life.

“please..” you whimpered, pulling minho by his cock, trying to line him up with your entrance.

“oh are those words, little one? please what?” minho removed your hand from around him and began running his tip up and down along your slit.

“please.. please..” you begged.

minho pressed the tip inside you and you thought you may burst into tears. he slowly inched inside, allowing you time to adjust. han was leaning over you, brushing the hair from your eyes, running his fingertips along your skin, from your jaw down to your nipples. minho slid in a little further. you grabbed han’s hand and squeezed it, moaning and babbling incoherent nothings.

“i know, baby. you feel so full, huh?” han cooed. “minho fills your little pussy so good, doesn’t he?”

“you’re doing so good, kitten.” minho said, grabbing your hips and fully seating himself inside you. he gave you only a moment to prepare before he started moving in and out, slowly, carefully, almost.. lovingly. he groaned at the feeling of you squeezing him, your high already approaching. he used his thumb to circle your clit. han continued running his fingers up and down your body, occasionally circling your nipples, giving them a little tug.

“uh- i- fuck- please-“ you babbled.

“are you gonna cum, sweet girl? cum on my cock. you deserve it.” minho rubbed a little harder on you clit and you saw stars. your body shivered and convulsed around him, causing him to find his own release. he emptied himself inside you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. your body fell limp and he slowly pulled out. minho leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss above your belly button. “come back to us, kitten. such a perfect girl.” he praised. everything was black, but your vision slowly returned and now han was positioned between your legs. minho was collapsed next to you, exhausted, placing soft kisses along your jaw and collarbone.

“think you can give us one more, baby?” han asked, using his tip to play in the cum that leaked out of you. you whimpered. “i know you can.” he said, gently pushing inside.

“fuck jagi, i can feel your cum on my skin.” han practically moaned. he squeezed his eyes shut, using every ounce of strength he had not to pound into your worn out, sensitive pussy. “feels so good.” he exhaled.

you really didn’t think you had another orgasm in you. that was until han lifted your legs and folded them toward your chest, causing him to reach a spot that had the stars returning to your vision. your pussy tightened around him, as minho lazily sucked on the skin of your neck, sure to leave a mark. he gently bit your earlobe, causing you to flutter around han’s cock.

“fuck baby.. need you to cum.” he moaned, breathless. you could feel it building. “want me to fuck my cum into you too? hmm baby?” he asked. “i wanna mix my cum with his. fuck.”

minho, still sucking hickeys into your neck, reached down and ever so gently slapped your pussy, right on your clit, and you came. you came for the third time that night. came around your best friends cock and he too came, pumping his cum into you.

you were at a loss. no thoughts in your head, your pussy practically vibrating from overstimulation.

han admired his work. both his cum and minhos slowly leaking out of your tired pussy. he reached down and scooped it up with his finger before putting his fingers into his mouth. minho let out an mmm before motioning for han to come closer. he brought him in for a kiss, their tongues sharing their cum between them.

everyone slowly came down, bodies tangled together.

“baby.. are you doing okay?” han asked, rubbing gentle circles into your side.

you nodded, eyes fluttering open to look at them both. they looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world to them. and your brain flashed on the potential consequences of the actions you just committed.

minho could sense the fear in your eyes. “shh. don’t worry. everything is fine. no one is regretful. okay?” he rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “as long as you’re okay, we’re okay.” you looked from him to jisung, who nodded in agreement.

“i’ve secretly been wanting to do that for a long long time.” han admitted.

“really?” you asked, voice hoarse.

han nodded. “and it was fucking amazing.” he chuckled.

“if you’re feeling strong enough, we need to get you cleaned up.” minho said.

“is the shower big enough for 3?” han asked.

minho smiled. “i think we’ll make it work.”

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[copperbadge]

I always enjoy writing updates on the royal family in these books, but I am having such fun expanding Simon's character and writing his banter with Ylias. I haven't gotten to write an older character who doesn't start out visibly struggling, and Simon's just kind of a dude who loves romance and enjoys being functionally king of chefs in Fons-Askaz.

Simon and Ylias had what I'm calling a "Ene-meet" over some cheese and the next time she saw him she called him Mr. Ricotta (I may try and make this better -- I'd like some kind of French pun where she basically calls him "white guy" while also calling him some form of cheese) and while they've since mostly buried the hatchet because they have to work together on the Reclamation Day festival, they are both enjoying pretending they're still smarting over it.

"Can you do all this..." Ylias gestured at their lists, "for Reclamation Day and also do the catering? Because I feel like we do throw around at least enough weight to make someone else take that over."

"Hm, there is a lot to supervise. A practical consideration, thank you," he said, absently flipping through his own notes. "I will find someone reliable enough to serve His Majesty but also young enough to still be impressed by the request. Which leaves remaining only the cooking competition."

"Not to complain, but this seems like a really random thing to have at Reclamation Day," Ylias said. "It's not a village fete or something."

"It began as a sort of grudge, years ago," he said. "Two cooks had a dispute; they declared to decide for one or the other on Reclamation Day -- in public, with the public's help in settling the matter. It proved very popular, and of course if there are a dozen people all competing, the results can be sold for funds for charity."

"So we're supposed to set this up, set the theme, and source the judges," Ylias said.

"Set-up is already arranged -- the judging tent is always in the same place. They only have to bring in their example of the challenge recipe and lay it out."

"I guess it's a little on the nose for this year's theme to be like...an Eddie Rambler classic recipe."

He smiled. "We may consider it but also, consider: are you aware of..." his voice dropped. "The Trash Tower?"

She nodded.

"Imagine a tent full of examples of Shivadh twists on the Trash Tower," he said.

"It doesn't look like Dante's inferno, but it doesn't not," she said. "Maybe another thing we want to ask about at the next meeting?"

"I think so. For judges, usually a member of the royal family, but also then someone who knows food, and sometimes a famous person if one can get one."

"Can we?"

"I would as soon not," LeFevre replied, which Ylias couldn't argue with. "I think perhaps for the royals, Princeps Joan would like to judge. Or if her fathers would prefer she does not, Duke Gerald. He would pretend it was his little one judging, give her some of everything to try, pretend he knows what she says. Very funny."

"Want me to tap someone with food chops from the town?" Ylias asked.

"Yes, but speak with me before you ask them, just to be sure."

"Yep, I wouldn't mind a road map to all the faux pas I could make," she muttered.

"Ah, well. I wouldn't let anyone cut you; I've already seen you at your worst and it is frankly somewhat mild," he said.

"I think I'm almost more insulted about being considered mediocre than I am that you won't let it go," she replied.

"We all need time to recover our wounds," he said gravely. "Another few years, perhaps, and I will begin to consider healing."

"Man, I didn't know calling you Mr. Ricotta would devastate you so completely."

He closed the notebook with a snap, smiling.

"And I must somehow go on, and fetch my groceries," he said.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Arrest Me, But Make it Sexy

Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: Tim recruits you to aid in a Metro op. When you ignore his direct orders, you dare him to arrest you, but you have a request.

Warnings: this is pure fluff and banter!! the song reference part is a teeny bit suggestive I guess, but it's completely clean/sfw as always!

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

cop cuties, cute and on duty. navy blue booties, go ahead and lock me up. arrest me, but make it sexy.

You’ve been a patrol cop since you completed your rookie training with Tim Bradford. Throughout the last few years of working alone, you’ve trusted him enough to ask for advice, offer to work for him and reach out when he was injured. Most cops don’t stay close to their TO, but Tim was always more than that. Somehow, against his will, you think, you and Tim became friends. He knew from the beginning of your training that you were going to be a great cop, which is why he decided to recruit you for a new job.

“Officer,” Tim greets as you walk into Wade’s office.

“Sergeant,” you reply. “I take it I’m here to see you and not be yelled at by Grey.”

“Why do you need to be yelled at?” Tim asks, raising his brows as he crosses his arms.

“Absolutely nothing, sir.”

“Sure. Metro is working a forgery operation, and we need an extra set of hands. I think you’re the right cop for this job.”

“You do?” you ask, suspicious of why he chose you over the hundreds of other choices.

“Yes. But you get to decide. Do you want to join the team and complete your first Metro op?”

“Yes, sir,” you agree. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“You still have to prove that I’m right,” Tim reminds you. “Gear up, we’re leaving in ten.”

You nod before you exit the office. Working with Tim is something that you’re used to, but not in a Metro team.

“Get to the corner,” Tim orders.

You stay in place, watching the forger. He’s in plain view, waiting for something and checking his watch every minute or so. That makes him dangerous and reckless. The overview that Tim gave you and the Metro squad at the station didn’t place the suspect outside of his studio.

“Corner, now,” Tim repeats.

“He’s outside,” you radio.

“And you’re not in position.”

You huff and move your hand off of your radio. There’s no chance of catching this guy if you move from your current position. Tim is still going off the original, incorrect intel. Not to mention, moving could spook him and ruin this operation.

Tim says your last name over the radio, and you wait for him to continue. “Get in position.”

“There’s no point,” you argue.

Tim radios for someone else to cover his position as he moves toward you. His approach is nearly silent, but as he squats beside you, you don’t look over at him.

“You have to follow my orders out here,” he reprimands quietly.

“Even if they’re stupid orders?” you reply without looking away from the suspect.

“That’s not your call. This isn’t rookie training where you get input because you’re learning. You do what I say or you’re off my team.”

“I understand that.”

“Then get in your position at the corner,” he orders again.

You don’t listen but remain quiet rather than argue with him again. Tim sighs beside you and clenches his jaw.

“Do you remember where you’re supposed to be?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

“Then get into that position and be ready for the next phase of this op.”

��No, Sergeant Bradford.”

Tim looks at the side of your face. He’s had enough of you acting like a partner who can argue with him. As much as he trusts you, you’re still his subordinate and this is unacceptable, especially in the middle of a Metro operation. Leading Metro is the most rewarding yet challenging position he has had as a cop, and he won’t let you compromise his position or the trust his team has in him.

“You know I can still make arrests, right?” Tim asks harshly.

You raise your brows and turn toward him to snap, “So, what; are you gonna arrest me? For what?”

“For disobeying direct orders! I can arrest you now and put you on desk duty and break room fridge refills for the rest of the month.”

You look back at the suspect before you stand. Tim follows your movement, and you lean toward him to push your finger against his chest.

As you crowd him, you dare, “Arrest me, Officer Bradford. But make it sexy.”

Tim looks between your eyes before he grabs your right shoulder. He spins you quickly and pushes you against the cinder block wall behind you. He wraps one hand around both of your wrists behind your back as his other hand rests against your hip, just above your holster.

“You want to say that again?” Tim asks.

“Not that I expect you to know what a real Degas looks like, Officer,” you taunt loudly, “but the gallery you just destroyed is worth more than your life!”

“What are you doing?” Tim whispers in your ear.

“Go with it,” you request.

“Excuse me!” the suspect calls as he approaches you and Tim. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m an art connoisseur, of sorts. What seems to be the problem?”

Tim pulls his handcuffs from his belt and puts them loosely around your wrists. He pulls you away from the wall and against his side as he turns to face the art forger.

“This woman is an art forger,” Tim answers. “So, unless you purchased a Degas painting from her, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“I fear that’s impossible,” the man replies. “Degas is nearly impossible to forge. The paint age and brush strokes are dead giveaways.”

“Spoken like a true enjoyer,” you say.

“Shut up,” Tim demands. “Sir, if you’d like to have your art checked by our experts, I’d be happy to make that call for you.”

You nod, a small movement you hope will make the man trust you. The art experts know his signature, so if they can get a look at his work, Tim’s work will be done, and another forger will be behind bars. The crime itself seems too white-collar for Tim’s skills, but a successful arrest is a successful arrest.

“I would appreciate that, Officer,” the man answers. “I can give you access to my collection now.”

Tim radios for the art experts waiting nearby to come in. He keeps a hand around your wrist, his pinky occasionally brushing between your skin and the metal cuff. After the experts enter the warehouse, it only takes two minutes before they radio to Tim that they have the evidence they need.

“You’re in luck, sir,” Tim tells the suspect. “Looks like the only forgeries in there are yours.”

Tim moves his hand from your wrist to your waist and pulls your handcuffs from your belt.

“You’re under arrest for art forgery, possession of stolen goods, and unlawful sale of property,” Tim says as he secures your handcuffs onto the suspect.

Another Metro officer rushes past you and takes the man from Tim to lead him to a waiting patrol car. Tim turns to face you and pulls a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket before he puts them on.

“You’re welcome,” you tell him.

“There are better ways to tell your superior officer that a different approach may be better,” he responds, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ignoring orders isn’t it.”

“You weren’t listening!”

“I listened at the end. You did well, but don’t ever do that again.”

You smile and step forward until you nearly hit Tim’s folded arms. “Scared I’ll take your job?”

“You are stubborn, uncompromising, and have no respect for authority,” Tim lists. “My position is safe from you.”

You tilt your head to the side and shrug. Tim radios a code 4, then walks away.

“Are you going to take these cuffs off?” you call after him.

Tim turns and stops a step away from you.

“You’re the one that wanted to be arrested,” he replies. He shrugs and asks, “Was that sexy enough?”

“I mean, yeah, it worked,” you answer. “But defying your orders got you the arrest, so…”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Tim begins.

He continues reciting your Miranda rights as he leads you to his car. His hand trails down your right arm as he puts you in the backseat. Once he gets into the driver’s seat, you realize that the handcuff on your right wrist is loose enough you can get your hand through.

“Defying direct orders is wrong,” you muse. “What if I start a verbal flirtation while you take me to your station?”

“I will arrest you,” Tim threatens.

“With what cuffs?” you ask, spinning his on your finger. “You gave yours away and took mine.”

Tim shakes his head and pulls over. He opens the back door, and you hand him his handcuffs as you climb out.

“If I had to get arrested, I’m glad it was with you,” you say before you round the back of the car to get in the passenger seat.

“I was considering mentioning you for a Metro promotion,” Tim begins as he drives back onto the road. “But after that stunt today…”

“You’ll never see me the same?” you guess.

Tim looks over at you, though you can’t see his eyes past his aviators.

“Something like that,” he murmurs.

“You liked it,” you accuse playfully. “Admit it.”

Tim adjusts his sunglasses and says, “Maybe.”

[heeseung-min]

[22:41]

You were staring frustratedly at the paper on your hand. The mark written on the top changed your mood drastically. You looked up and saw your classmates reaction towards their mark. Some looked happy, some are not and few of them were indifferent.

"I hope you guys can keep up to do better next time. Class dismissed."

Everyone started to put their things inside their bags and one by one slowly walked out of the class however when you already near the exit, you heard your teacher called your name. With disappointed huffed you turned to him with confuse expression.

"We need to talk about your performance in the class."

Slowly the class only have you and your professor. You waited him to say something but became irritated when he just doing his work without saying anything to you for few minutes.

"If you don't have anything to say, I will go out."

"Solve this question."

He said as he wrote the question on the whiteboard. You confusedly stared at him but he tilted his head towards the board waiting for you to move. When you picked up the marker and started to write the answer you can feel him standing behind you. You flinched when you felt one of his hand slided around your waist.

"Sir - "

"Why do you avoid me?" He asked with a gentle voice while putting his head on your shoulder and started to left kisses on your cheek and neck.

"Sir please- ", the hand that was holding the marker trembling when he touch became bold. When you felt he slowly pushed you to face him to kiss his lips, you pulled yourself out of his hold. You stood in front of him and glared at him.

"We should not do this. It's inappropriate."

"Really? You didn't say those that night."

"Sunghoon, please."

"Ahh, I miss hearing that. Especially when you were under -"

"STOP IT! That was a mistake. That night was a mistake. I'm sorry for causing that trouble."

Immediately, you left Sunghoon alone in the room. He stared at his hand that successfully took your handkerchief when he was hugging you and smelled on it before let out a moan.

"Fuck, you make me crazy Y/n."

____________________

____________________

It's been few days since the incident between you and your professor, Sunghoon. You didn't attend his class and asked some notes from your classmates claiming that you are sick to go to the class. Sunghoon became irritated when he didn't get to see you for few days. He was walking around the hallway replying to the greetings by the students but suddenly stopped when he saw you at the university's garden. He smiled at the sight of you but frowned upon a man sitting next to you laughing together.

"Really now? You choose him over me?"

He said that to himself as he started to walk away from there. No, Sunghoon will not let you go just like that. He will make sure you will come back to him no matter what.

_______________

_______________

It's 8.30 a.m. and you were walking on the hallway to get to your class however you noticed the students were gosipping about something. Seems like all of them were talking about the same thing. You felt weird and decided to take your phone out and read the group chat in case you missed some info.

When you clicked on the chat, everyone has shock response to a video that sent by anonymous in the group. You clicked on the video to play it. The whole video was captured in a dark place but you can see two silhouette in it. The position looks intimate and immediately you were shocked when you heard a loud moan on the video. You started to feel nervous and quickly ran to find someone.

Sunghoon was sipping on his warm coffee when you entered his room without knock on it. From your expression he knew what are you going to say but he just wants to pretend dumb for a second.

"May I know why are you here, Miss Y/n?"

"You....the video. I told you to delete it right? You said you deleted it already!!!"

Sunghoon scoffed and stood up from his seat and went to stand in front of you.

"You should not believe what people say easily baby."

Your face already wet by tears at this point. The thought of everyone finding out you fucked your lecturer is terrifying. You don't want to ruin your life.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"You were the one in the fault baby. Should not go to another man when I'm literally right here. Plus, you should be lucky I didn't include the whole video. It just few seconds of your beautiful moan. If I put the whole video then imagine how surprise people are towards you."

The next thing happened shocked both of yourself and Sunghoon. You never imagine yourself kneeling and begging to him. This sight of you made Sunghoon a little bit hard.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Please don't do that."

Ah, there it is. Sunghoon knew he can make you surrender and go back to him. You just need a little bit force.

"Oh, baby. I'm not that cruel. Just quit your study and live with me and we are good."

Oh, Y/n. You will never escape from Sunghoon.

Hiii it's been a long time i posted right😭😭😭god i hope you guys still like my story

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @rowretro @obsessed1with1straykids @eeunoia @soireegurl @huggyuvita

[frannyzooey]

On The Green: 3

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: Mature-ish? More space violence, gratuitous descriptions of Ezra’s body 🤡

A/N: thank you to both @the-scandalorian who always sets me in the right direction and gives me the best reassurance and @bageldaddy who, I’m pretty sure, is giving me more of an education than any English teacher I’ve ever had and thank god ❤️

Series Masterlist

—

For the next couple days, it rains. 

Sheets of it pour down, a steady drum against the roof, trails of it sliding down the windows. It creates rivers in the rich soil, deep trenches that lead to even deeper puddles, and the world outside looks like a muted blur from your seat inside. A smear of dark green, a blot of rich brown, the watery shape of roots that distort with every drop. 

Tucking your knees tighter under your chin, you give your legs a squeeze, hoping to squash the restlessness that thrums through them. 

“Anything new out there?”

You sigh, knowing he’s teasing. “No.”

“Fitting, the way you can sit still for so long, Birdie. Perched there in your little nest.”

The only blanket you have pooled at your hip, your headphones on the floor, and your notebook open and face down next to them, you suppose it does look a bit like a nest. You shrug. “Not much else to do.”

Ezra fiddles with a ship part in his hand, his head bent in focus. “Always something to do.”

After days stuck inside, it doesn’t feel like it. 

You’ve combed over every inch of the pod, putting it back to rights. Cleaning every surface, organizing every cupboard. The med supplies were pulled out and meticulously sorted, the food stores combined with Ezra’s meager offerings, the dash scrubbed free of every particle of dirt that’s collected on it over the years. Your fingers finding a few rusty drips of blood that were missed, you spent more time than necessary scouring every inch of the pilot’s seat until your fingers ached. 

One untouched compartment remained: your father’s private belongings. 

“Hand me that wrench, would you?”

Ezra extends his hand, and you crawl over to the open tool kit, rifling through it until you find the one he’s looking for. Handing it to him, you abandon your seat by the window and sit next to him. His fingers are thick and long, marred with the nicks of small scars, his fingernails short and black with permanent dirt—but his handling of the part is graceful, his touch deft when he uses the tool. 

“Tell me everything he said again, from the top.”

Resting your cheek on your knee, you recite every detail you can recall, your voice monotone with boredom. 

“He didn’t say much. A group of mercs hired him to help with the dig, but I don’t know where he met them. Called “The Queen’s Lair,” it’s supposed to be an untouched dig site that holds more gems than any other on this planet. A deposit the size of this pod. Depending on his source, the whole thing could be real or it could be nothing, but either way, he thought it would make us rich. He said it would be enough to retire on, that this would be our last run.”

Ezra huffs. “If the rumor is true, then he’d be right.” He passes the wrench back, looking at you. “If it’s true.” He waits a beat. “Do you think it is?”

You still had to get used to that – someone asking your opinion about something. You shrug. “It’s possible, right?”

“Sure, it’s possible,” he agrees. “Probable, though?” 

You pause to think, and his expression softens into a smile. “A dreamer like myself, I see.” 

“I don’t know about that,” you reply. “But as long as we’re stuck here, might as well look, right?”

He nods, thinking for a moment. 

“The Queen’s Lair,” he muses, dragging the words out in a slow drawl. He looks up, wiggling his eyebrows, and a small smile pulls at your lips. 

Mirroring it, he goes back to work. 

It had taken you all of a couple days to tell him about the reason your father came here. Tossing in your lot with Ezra the second you agreed to his deal, the idea of a hidden cache of gems that had the potential to make you both rich was too valuable to keep to yourself. You had the location; he had the digging skills. You had, as minimal as they were, details about who was waiting, and he had the skills to navigate the situation. 

You needed each other. 

Cautious around him for the first couple of days, you were surprised by his geniality. For someone who appeared so ruthless when you first met him, he was…kinder than you thought he would be with you. You had remained hesitant, convinced that it was a ruse to get you to lower your defenses, but after a while, you came to see that he was just desperate for someone to talk to. 

So were you, it seemed, for how easily the words slipped out once you let them. 

After a lifetime of being left to wilt alone in empty apartments, or being dragged around the universe only to be ignored until your father needed something from you, it felt good to have someone’s attention. His curiosity about you was endless, his questions never ending, and when you answered, he really listened. Not like he was searching for anything to give him a leg up on you, but rather just openly interested. His face was expressive, his eyes fixed on yours whenever you were talking, and even when you tried to shy away from the direct attention you weren’t used to, he never faltered. 

He was patient, a gift you’d never been given from anyone. 

Unfortunately, along with that came a blossoming attraction to the man, but you pushed that down. The pod was a tight space with two people, and he was broad. You couldn’t help but notice his presence. Especially at night, when it was just the two of you. 

When a blanket of tension seemed to build across the small space between your cots. 

When it was just you and him and the darkness; the steady sound of his breathing over the thrum of your restless limbs. 

Squashing down the nagging shame that surfaced every time you remembered that he was a stranger and also a murderer, you ignored that logic and leaned into the warmth of his companionship instead. 

Besides, even if he was planning on taking advantage, what could you really do about it anyway? 

“You mentioned a map?” he says, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

You tilt your head towards his cupboard. “I haven’t checked, but it should be in there. I remember him looking at it.”

Knowing you’ve been avoiding that particular cupboard, he nods. 

“How many mercs are waiting for him at the dig?”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“What terms did he negotiate?”

“He didn’t say.”

Ezra shakes his head to himself, looking up. “The more you tell me about this old man of yours, the less I’m impressed with how he treated his partner.”

“I was never his partner,” you correct. “Just his daughter.”

He gives you a level glance, and you look away. Fiddling with the leg of your thermals, you change the subject. “Do you think it’s safe to leave the pod unattended?” 

“I’m not assured that she’s fit to fly in the state she’s in, but just to be sure, we’ll take this with us wherever we go.”

He holds up the part in his hand with a smirk, and you give it a closer look, huffing a laugh when you recognize it. 

The starter. 

He stands with a soft grunt, stretching. The muscles in his shoulders shift underneath his threadbare thermals, and you keep your eyes on them when he tucks the part away in his case. 

“I’ll need a digging partner out there, if this opportunity is what you say it is,” he says. “I think we should practice some, to get you ready. Is that amenable to you?”

You bite the pillow of your lip. “He never taught me that. How to dig,” you clarify. 

“Course he didn’t,” Ezra frowns, his voice sliding low with unamused disappointment. He shakes his head clear of whatever dark thought seems to pass through his mind, his expression softening. “All the more reason.” He bends, peering out the window. “Looks like it’s tapering off. The sooner we get some practice under your belt, the better.”

A swoop of relief flowing through you at the thought of leaving the pod, it mixes with excitement at the prospect of learning something new. Your father never trusted you with the actual digging – you had been brought along to carry things, made to follow for “assistance”, but he never let you touch the blade. You’d once thought it was a father’s way to protect his child from the dangerous job but quickly realized it was born out of impatience. 

Unfurling your tight limbs when he holds his hand out to help you off the floor, you grab your suits from the closet. Slipping them on in silence, you click your helmet into place while he secures the connection of your filters, and hunching to get through the door, you follow him outside. 

The ground is saturated with water, your boots leaving clear impressions in the soil as he leads you into the forest. He’s broad, even more so with his suit on, but the trees that surround you are still big enough to conceal his entire body, not to mention yours. The canopy of lush growth glistens with droplets, shafts of misty light piercing through it to highlight the floor of moss and growth underneath you. Vines and tree roots spread and crawl underneath your feet, no visible path that you can see.  

You follow the beacon of his worn yellow suit, his voice carrying through the comm into your helmet. 

“So, Birdie,” his voice sounds deeper through the link, scratchy with static. “If your father never taught you how to dig, what did he teach you?”

You huff under your breath. “A lot of things.”

Missing the low tone of your sarcasm through the radio, he continues in his conversational tone. “Anything useful?”

“I know how to navigate.” You think of using your father’s last coordinates to find him in the seedier part of town. “I’m resourceful.” Rationing your vouchers, making sure they bought you enough food to last. “I’m actually not a bad mechanic.”

“Oh yea?” He turns to look to peek back at you for a moment. 

You immediately backtrack when you see a glimmer of hope on his face. “I mean, nothing like we need. I can try to help though, if you show me how. My father used to bring me with him everywhere but always left me behind, so I got pretty good at fixing things around the ship. He always wanted me to do the wiring because my hands were smaller than his. He said my fingers were more precise.”  

You remember the rest of it silently: the way his hands trembled and shook between doses. 

Ezra hums in acknowledgement. “And yet he never taught you how to dig?”

The moss softens your footsteps, flakes of dust floating through the thick air. 

“No,” you reply. “He tried, but…I don’t know. He was too impatient, I think.”

Memories of his harsh words come back: the biting clip of his reprimands, the disappointed yet dismissive tone he always had when it came to you. 

Ezra’s voice pulls you back. “Seems like a waste to me. If I had access to those fingers of yours, I would have made use of them.”

Your steps falter as his unearned praise catches you off guard, at his automatic assumption that skills he doesn’t even know if you have were wasted. Warmth unfurls in your chest, the edge of your mouth unconsciously lifting. Feeling slightly foolish and young at your reaction, you look down at your feet. 

You’re still thinking about it when he pushes through dense bush, halting you with his arm.  

Peering over his shoulder, you see a dark, gaping pit of disturbed earth obstructing your path. He creeps closer, toeing around the edge of it, and you follow, taking in the size and depth. Shallow but with steep sides, roots bulge out from below the soil, extending into the sky with gnarled fingers. Looking closer, you note pockets of earth gaping open just underneath each one. The whole site is eerie, appearing abandoned – though Ezra seems to know what he’s looking for. 

Standing on the edge of the pit with a narrowed gaze, he crouches, studying the crater. 

You watch with curiosity as he eases down the slope, into the dig site. Sitting on your butt, you carefully slide down the embankment to join him. 

You’re not experienced enough to know for sure, but everything about this looks barren to you. 

“Is there anything left in here?”

He flashes a smile your way. “If you know where to look.”

He paces the length of the pit, studying it. “Many sites were depleted during the Rush, but carelessness left some treasures behind.” 

He squats next to a thick, gnarled root, his helmet tilting in study. 

“Come here, Birdie.” His voice slipping into something softer and quieter, he motions you closer. “Here. You see it?”

His gloved fingers splay over the earth, dusting along tiny pin-prick holes that pierce the rich dirt, and he brushes away the crumbling top layer to reveal a deeper set. As if whatever is buried underneath needs access to the toxic air. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he coos. 

Blinking, it takes you a second to understand he’s talking to the hole he’s gently unearthing. He hums to himself, one of satisfaction when the earth tumbles away and an involuntary shiver of pleasure at the sound surprises you by rolling down your spine. Shifting your crouch, you push it down. 

“Hand me my kit?”

You reach for it, watching as he preps his tools. 

“I’ll go first, and then teach you how to do it. Watch my fingers.” 

Bracing his hand on the side of the site, he uses the strength in his other one to scoop into the pocket of soil until it completely opens. His arm disappears as he reaches into the dark pit, and trepidation spreads through you. He searches for something, his eyes lighting up when he finds it. 

"I knew somebody oughta give her a go,” he says with a smile. 

His hand wrapped around the root like a rope, he tugs with a soft grunt of exertion, and a thick, milky white root pearl spills from the hole. He keeps pulling, coaxing everything out and a bulbous pod covered in mucus emerges, sliding out onto the ground by his feet. Shifting onto his knees, he picks up his knife. 

“You want to be careful when you cut,” he starts to explain, motioning you to scoot closer. “Easy does it, with delicate things like these. One wrong move and the whole thing will go to shit.”

You hold your breath as he makes a careful incision, his knife slowly drawing across the top of the pod. Your eyes widen in half revulsion and half curiosity as it splits open, strands of thick mucus connecting each side. 

“I saw my dad do it once,” you say lowly, mesmerized by his deft movements. “Mess it up.”

The dark crown of his shorn curls shakes under the dome of his visor. “It’s a shame to waste it. All the effort it takes to get her to give it up, only to be ruined with a misplaced touch.”

A hissing sound slips through the thick air, and his fingers form a vee to hold the slick seam open. 

“That's the price for a dry breach,” he explains. “My chem will calm the brine.”

You have the bottle of pre-mixed chemicals ready in your hand, and he gives you a nod in thanks, taking it from you. Pouring it slowly into the crack, the pod disintegrates into a steamy cloud, a slimy puddle forming underneath. A core remains, and setting the bottle down, he holds up the unpolished gem. 

“Small, but still worth it.”

“You made that look so easy.” Clear experience in every movement he made, you’re still looking at the gem when he speaks. 

“Your turn.”

You look up at the words, unsure, and his gaze is steady and encouraging. “I’ll be right here. If you slip, it’s just a trial run.”

You frown in hesitation, and he chuckles. “Don’t look so serious, Birdie. The stakes are about as low as they can get. Come on.”

He jerks his chin towards something behind you, and crawling over to it, you follow. 

“Just there,” he says. “You can see her. Look.”

You follow his finger, and reaching your glove out, start to brush the crumbling soil away from the side of the pit. He guides you through every step with a patience you’ve not encountered before, every instruction murmured in a cadence so soothing that would be distracting if not for the intensity of your concentration on the task. 

Watch it, girl. Straight finger. 

You got it?

Hold it nice and tight. 

Oh. That’s perfect. 

The sense of accomplishment you feel when you hold up the gem is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. All of your other skills discovered through the lens of isolation, forged by way of necessity without the luxury of help, this one feels different. A safety net beneath you every step of the way, you know if you were to mess up, he would have saved you – but you didn’t. 

The faith he placed in you when he handed you the knife suddenly feels so much more earned, and you beam up at him with pride.  

“Not nearly as daunting as you thought now, was it?” He smiles back at you, holding his hand out for the gem. “Your father was right, by the way. Your fingers are nimble. The most precise and steady I’ve ever seen.”

You know he must be humoring you but the flush of validation flourishes in your chest as he tucks the stone carefully into the soft foam padding of his case. 

“I would have us stay out longer, but we didn’t charge the filters as much as we should have. Let’s head back and admire our loot in a more hospitable environment.”

Clicking it shut, he climbs the slope of the pit before turning to help you out. 

“Your first gem,” he muses, leading you back into the forest. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” you breathe, a small smile still on your face and you follow him, his constant stream of words fading into the background. 

Entirely dependent on the whims of your father, you’d been existing inside of an isolated bubble until now. You hadn’t been lying when you told Ezra you had no idea what you wanted to do, because the freedom to choose your own path was something that had never occurred to you. You’d been self-reliant, but always within the shadow of a burden. Your dad forced you into a caretaker role, and for the first time in years, as Ezra’s voice flows into your helmet from his, you feel the possibility of something else breaking through the fog. 

A glimmering edge of potential, the hue of an amber colored gem. 

The shift inside you sparks to life, a realization dawning on you: a life you never thought possible. For the first time since you landed on this planet, you see opportunity stretching out in front of you instead of a dead end.  Pride kindles in your chest as you walk back to the pod, and you think about sharing it with Ezra, but stating your excitement over something as routine for the competent man in front of you seems foolish. Like something you should keep to yourself, in order to protect it against the power you know other’s words hold. 

You make it to the edge of the clearing before it spills forth from your lips. 

“I can’t wait –” you start, your words interrupted by Ezra’s arm whipping out for the second time that day to stop you in your tracks. 

“Hello, stranger.”

Your head snaps up, both at the greeting itself and the tone his voice has slipped into: something colder than the easy geniality he’s been using with you all morning, an edge to it that you can sense without seeing his face.

“Can I help you?” Ezra’s hand rests on the thrower attached to his hip, and from your place behind him, you slowly reach for your own weapon strapped across your back. Peering over Ezra’s shoulder, you spot the edge of a man. 

Sneering through the visor of his dirty helmet, he looks starved, almost feral underneath the dome, his eyes dead with hunger. Dangerous is the first word that comes to mind, and when the man’s gaze settles on you, you shrink back behind Ezra.

“Pretty ship,” his voice crackles through the comm link. “Pretty girl.”

Your stomach bottoms out, but Ezra remains still.

“Both of whom belong to me,” he replies, steady and sure. 

Your fingers bury themselves into Ezra’s suit at his side, and you feel him straighten, standing taller in front of you.

“Seems like a lot for one man.” The man’s chin tilts up in a challenge, stepping closer. “Maybe I can take one of em’ off your hands.”

“As generous as that offer is, I will have to decline.” You can hear the casual smile on Ezra’s face, meant to disarm. “I’m partial to both, you see. I wouldn’t be able to choose.”

The stranger takes a step closer, testing. When Ezra doesn’t move, he takes another. 

“Actually,” the stranger confesses, “I’ve got a ship. It could use some parts, and I intended to take them from you…but I’d be willing to walk away.” He pauses a beat, tilting his head to look directly at you. “For her.” 

He smiles, and the sight of his rotted teeth causes bile to rise in your throat. 

“That is a bold offer,” Ezra drawls. “Unfortunately,” his voice dropping into a firmer tone, “She stays with me.”

The man’s greasy smile disappears, replaced with a menacing frown. 

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he growls. 

Ezra stands firm, shifting to cover you with the whole of his body and a tight tension fills the air, crackling amongst the slow floating dust. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to take her by force,” the man says, taking another step forward. 

Without any warning, Ezra whips the pistol from the holster attached to his hip and fires. You shrink at the first shot, scrambling to hide by the pod at the sound of a second one, and by the third, your ass hits the ground with a thud. A cold sweat soaks through your thermals, your pulse pounding as you watch Ezra saunter closer to the dead man with a relaxed gait and aiming his gun right between the man’s vacant eyes, you flinch when he pulls the trigger again. 

A crash echoes through the field, followed by silence. 

–

“It’s really a thing of beauty, isn’t it?”

Still reeling from the confrontation outside, you blink numbly at the refresher. 

“Um,” you swallow, taking a seat. “Sure.”

He seems so unbothered it’s disorienting, and you tug your boot off, placing it on the floor next to the other one. Needing him to go somewhere else so you can process what just happened alone, you attempt casualness. “You just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna shower?”

“You just gonna watch me, or are you gonna turn around?” he mimics. 

You pause, and he grins. 

“Either way suits me just fine, little bird. Just fine.”

He crouches to dig through a bin of his belongings, and you turn your back to him, your body slipping into the rote memory as you take off your suit. The difference between who he’s been the last several days with you versus who he just turned into is jarring, a slap in the face, a stark reminder of what he’s capable of. 

“You want to bathe first, or do you mind if I have the honor?” he asks from behind you. 

“Go for it,” you reply. 

You hear him pause behind you and turn to face him. A frown pulls between his dark brows as he studies you. “Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting for you to get your own relief. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

You shake your head, just wanting him to give you space. “I’m good. I’ll wait.” 

He nods and before you can turn back around, reaches over his head to strip his shirt off with a tug. Marks of rough won survival litter the skin of his back. A gouge here, the thin stripe of a scar there; some cleanly healed, some not. He leans forward into the fresher, turning the water on to let it run for a moment and you eye the dark curls that edge the nape of his neck. The wings of muscle that make up his broad shoulders seem so much wider with his suit off, so much wider against the small opening he stands in front of, and your eyes follow the strong plane of his back down all the way down to the dimples on either side of his spine, just above the waistband of the pants he’s already working open – 

Turning, his face registers surprise when he sees you’re still looking – yet he makes no effort to cover himself. Instead, he stands taller, confident in his bareness. His chest is covered in the same marks as his back, visible strength held in his arms, and dark hair collects in a swirl around his belly button and leads down, his hand obstructing where his pants hang open. 

“I’m – sorry,” you hastily apologize, heat rushing to your face. Averting your eyes, you get a glimpse of his amused smile before you turn your back on him again. 

You expect him to tease you, but he doesn’t. Instead, the door to the fresher clicks shut and you let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding. 

Finally alone, you close your eyes. 

He killed…again. Right in front of you, shamelessly, so confident in his own skills that you never sensed even a fraction of fear. Going back to the moment you both saw the man, you focus on the memory of his calmness, on the image of confidence he presented delivering that final shot. Almost lazy with it, like he was so desensitized by killing it didn’t even register with him. 

Searching deeper, where you should find fear, you find reassurance instead. 

He’s the one that took out the initial threat of his original partner, he’s the one who buried your father like it was nothing, he’s the one who has taught you about this place. Treating you like an equal except for when he needs to take out a threat, the way he slides into territorial protection should make you worry…but instead, it makes you feel safe. 

You don’t belong to him, but you don’t find yourself rebelling against the idea as much as you probably should. The stranger meant to take you, and when Ezra told that man you belonged to him, you should have shrunk away, probably should have mentally protested. Instead, you silently clutched him tighter. 

You hear him behind the door, water splashing against the tiles as he moves around and that swirl of hair above his waistband flashes behind your eyelids, along with an image of his thick fingers. The width of his chest, the rounds of his shoulders. The muscles along his ribs. 

You jam the heels of your hands into your eyes, willing it to stop. 

He’s a murderer. He’s a thief. He’s a dangerous man who has taken advantage of a situation in order to save himself. 

And yet, you breathe out, listening to the shower – he’s saved you every time too. 

–

You stay quiet the rest of the night, sitting with your thoughts. 

He notices, those dark eyes resting on you every now and then over the map. He’d waited until you were in the shower to go through your father’s belongings, a courtesy you silently thanked him for. 

Picking at your dinner, you finally ask him one of the questions weighing on your mind. “Am I really that much of a commodity around here?” you ask. “Is a girl that…rare?”

He stops eating, his expression turning solemn. He holds your gaze for a moment, answering honestly. “You have no idea, Birdie.”

There is a weight to the answer that gives you pause, and a clear implication that confirms the worry that you’re really not safe here – not just for the reasons you thought.

You go back to eating – or rather, picking at your food – and you feel him watching you. 

“It is not my intention to scare you,” he starts, “but it is important that you stay close to me. If anyone asks, you’re mine. You understand?”

You nod, the words sparking to life an empty ache inside you, and you swallow hard. 

“Not because I own you,” he continues, “but because they need to think I do.”

“Wouldn’t being your partner be enough?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I wish it was, but they…” He pauses, being careful with his words. “It’s been a long time since these men have seen a girl. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one. Your father was foolish to bring you here.” His hand splays on his chest, his thumb catching the worn collar of his thermal. “I would never hurt you, Birdie. But them? They’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You go quiet again, and he puts his fork down, leaning in. 

“Again – I don’t say this to scare you, but –”

“That man today,” you interrupt. “How can you kill like that?”

He misunderstands your question, his body language shifting into defensiveness. 

“It was all in the name of self-preservation, Birdie. It was nothing personal. Out here –”

“Can you teach me how?”

Your question takes him aback, his eyebrows popping up with surprise. 

You let the question hang in the air between you, fully expecting him to say no. He shouldn’t help you learn to protect yourself, you know it would be in his best interest not to. Despite that, you hold eye contact with him, pleading inwardly for him to say yes. 

You know he’d protect you, but you want more freedom than that. You want more, just like he taught you earlier.

Taking in your measure for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifts just a fraction, his dark eyes glinting with warmth – and pride. 

“Of course.”

[xoluvx]

i know it was a long time ago but can i request euphoric and rough from the billie kiss list?

enjoy 💖

[ euphoric ] for a celebratory kiss

[ rough ] for a kiss fuelled by more than affection

“Congratulations,” you smiled at Billie as she clung to the award in her hand. She gave you a small side hug and you kissed her cheek courteously. Like people who haven’t seen each other in a long time. She lifted it slightly showing you with a goofy grin. Don’t get me wrong, she loved being recognized for her work, but going up in a crowd full of industry people always made her nervous. It certainly didn’t help that you’d been sitting next to her all night and barely uttered a word to her.

Things had been weird. She’s not sure exactly when they shifted, but it might’ve had to do with the Instagram stories and the headlines of her coming out. You were friends, not best friends. Just friends that were in the business. But close enough friends that she’d played you snippets of her music and vice versa, so she really wasn’t sure what was going on.

When the award show was over, your publicist led you away and Billie almost lost you in the crowd. Almost.

She managed to get away from Finneas and her parents, almost rushing toward the direction you disappeared into. “Hey,” she almost shouted. But you’d heard her. Turning you head, you looked at her confused. “Can I take you home?” She offered smiling slightly. “Okay,” you nodded. You’re not sure why you’d agreed. You probably should’ve gotten out of what you were wearing first, but she’d offer something you couldn’t refuse. “I’ll text you when I’m home,” you spoke to your publicist and she nodded giving your arm a squeeze.

“So is there a reason you didn’t speak to me all night?” Billie asked hand on the steering wheel. Don’t worry her family was able to get home, she ditched them, but she thought it was for an important cause. “Where’s your family?” You asked trying to avoid the question. “Probably home by now,” she cleared her throat.

The car stopped and you noticed you weren’t home yet, close. “Did I do something?” She asked turning the car off and facing you. You looked out the window, then you felt her hand grab your hand. You’d hugged and playfully touched shoulders and snuck glances, but you’d never held hands. Not in the way she was intertwining your fingers right now.

“I didn’t want your girlfriends to think I was pursuing you,” you confessed, your fingers limply resting on her hand. Billie chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t have girlfriends,” she cleared her throat. “Were you…jealous?” She whispered and this time you looked at her with disbelief.

“I am not jealous. I am upset that you didn’t tell me anything. That I had to find out through social media. That you clearly know I like you, Billie.” You stopped.

“You like me?” She whispered squeezing your hand.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” You remarked.

Billie shook her head coming close to you. “You can show me,” she replied inches away from your face. You gulped before bringing your hand up to the side of her face. Your fingers spread across her cheek coming down to her jaw before planting a kiss on her lips. You pulled away only to brush your noses before Billie, who was practically hovering over you in the car, laced her fingers around your neck coming in for a fiery kiss this time. A kiss that meshed lips and clashed noses. She bit on your lower lip gently and you opened your mouth a little bit wider and her tongue glided along your bottom lip until it was making contact with your own tongue. Your fingers now palming her hair. You didn’t come up for breath, not for a while. All you could hear were the sounds escaping through your lips and the pants escaping hers. The car filled with desire.

[thestoryofella]

before he cheats

summary: after your cheating boyfriend leaves you heartbroken, you and Sirius drunkenly decide to teach him a lesson by keying his car.

warnings: brief sexual content, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, fluff, drinking, swearing

sirius black x reader ✿ 1679 words

You were completely and utterly heartbroken. 

After a long day of work, you stopped by your boyfriend’s flat to visit him since you got off thirty minutes early. Despite dating for two years, you still hadn’t moved in together, as Chad “liked his personal space.” 

Or so you thought. Because what the woman on top of Chad was doing right now certainly didn’t look respectful of his personal space.

His bare torso gleamed with sweat, and the woman–who looked nothing like you–rolled her hips on top of him, her neck slightly tilted back. When Chad saw you in the doorway of his bedroom, his eyes widened in shock before he pushed the woman off of him, pulling a blanket to cover his body before strolling over to you in a demeanor that was entirely too confident for the situation.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” He asked, seeming to attempt to sugarcoat his actions with an awkward and ineffective chuckle. 

“What are you doing?” You retorted back, pointing an accusatory finger towards his bare chest. You kept your voice low, trying to be mindful of his neighbors in the apartment complex. Tears gleamed in your eyes, and you almost felt embarrassed at how quickly you got worked up–something Chad made fun of you for constantly–until you spotted the woman tiptoeing to the bathroom. 

His mouth opened up a few times, seeming to try and come up with a concrete reason for what you had just seen. But he couldn’t, and after a few tries, he closed his mouth in silent defeat. 

You shook your head at him, flabbergasted by what you witnessed, before turning on your heel. Right before you left his flat, just for clarity’s sake, you muttered, “We’re done,” before opening the door, going, and slamming the door behind you. Screw the neighbors.

♡ ♡ ♡

For the next three days, your set-up in the living room of your flat was a sad sight. Atop your leather sofa were pounds of used tissues, covered in your snot and tears, and you had been in the same pair of pajamas for three days straight. For those three days, you’d rewatched your comfort movie approximately twenty times. 

It wasn’t until the third day that you heard your phone buzz for the twentieth time, the ringtone you’d chosen for your best friend Sirius blaring over the Titanic soundtrack. You finally decided to answer and quickly regretted the decision when you heard Sirius’s blaring voice over the speaker. So much for a peaceful afternoon in.

“Y/N! Why have you disappeared off the face of the planet?” Sirius’s voice rang out through the speakerphone, clear, concerned, and loud. 

After glancing at your tissue pile, you begrudgingly decided that this conversation might be better in person if you could get through it without choking over your tears. “Umm, how about I tell you over some drinks? Can you meet me at the bar in an hour?” You offered your plan as best possible, trying not to cringe at how unsure you sounded. 

Sirius huffed over the phone, clearly unsatisfied with waiting to hear your story. “Fine, but you better tell me everything.” He drawled out, settling. 

“See you then,” you replied, hanging up the phone and leaping off the couch. If you only had an hour to fix yourself up, you had to hurry.

♡ ♡ ♡

By the time you reached the bar, you were sweating. Both from the quick pace at which you had to shower and dress yourself and the even faster pace at which you had to walk to the bar to meet Sirius at your agreed time. 

When you walked into The Black Dog, you spotted Sirius’s mop of jaw-length black hair before anything else, walking over to slide into his booth. When you sat down, his eyes widened slightly before his lips turned upwards, and he smiled a winsome smile as he took in your appearance. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Looks like someone finally decided to leave the house.” 

“Shut up,” you replied quickly, sticking up your finger to tell him to wait as you ordered many tequila shots; surely, this would keep you two well-hydrated for the night. 

“Before or after we take some shots?” He asked when you returned.

“After,” you replied quickly. It took very little thought to decide you needed some alcohol in your system to get through this without either crying or feeling so embarrassed you crawled back home and never came out of your bedroom. 

Sensing your serious story, Sirius leaned back in his chair, ready to hear you vent. “Ladies first,” he gestured to the shot tray. 

In response, you slammed down two shots, chasing with a sip of water. Inhaling a breath, you began. “Chad cheated on me,” you let the words escape your lips quickly, hoping Sirius wouldn’t detect any emotion in them. 

His demeanor immediately stiffened, eyes narrowing in anger for you, but he didn’t let it show if he was angry. “Are you okay?” He muttered. The words were uncharacteristically soft for the raven-haired man, who extended his hand as he placed it on your forearm. 

“Yes,” you uttered, the word coming out as a choke. You sighed, acknowledging defeat. “Not really,” you decided to confess. 

He hummed in understanding, pushing another shot your way before downing one himself. He nodded at you to continue. 

“I mean, I don’t know what to say. We’ve been–” You sigh. “We had been dating for two years, and I come to Chad’s apartment, and he’s naked with someone who isn’t me,” you continue. “It just really sucks,” you finished, not caring to try and use fancy language. 

“You deserve better than that asshole,” Sirius declared, downing two more shots. You offered him a glassy-eyed smile in response. 

“Here, drink up. We’re going to need it,” Sirius said, pushing two more shots toward you before finishing his share. 

“For what?” You asked, finishing your share of the shots as well. 

“Revenge,” Sirius declared, a mischievous glint taking over his eye. 

“What–” You started, but before you could finish, Sirius grabbed your hand, tugging you towards the door. 

“Just trust me,” he said, interlocking your fingers before practically sprinting down the sidewalk. 

You ran along, embracing the warmth that came from his slender hands.

♡ ♡ ♡

When you got to Chad’s apartment, you decided you should not have trusted Sirius. You two stood beside Chad’s brand-new red Mercedes convertible on the sidewalk outside his flat. 

“What are we doing?” you asked, a slight slur to your words. The tequila had kicked in. 

“We are going to key Chad’s car,” Sirius announced, his voice leaving little room for argument. 

Your mouth fell open in a gape. “We cannot do that!” you whisper-shouted, shocked by his audacity. Though you had to admit, the idea was not entirely repulsive. 

“Yes, we can,” Sirius said, unlooping his carabiner from his belt loop and tossing his keys to you. 

You caught his keys with both hands, staring at the shiny medal. “He’ll know who did it,” you said. 

“In London?” Sirius huffed out. “He has no cameras, and he lives in a major city. We just have to be careful not to leave a trace.” 

You stood for a second, considering his words. Recalling the way the woman’s body moved on top of his, you decided this idea wasn’t half-bad. “Okay,” you agreed. “But you have to go first.” 

“You go first, and I’ll help,” Sirius said. 

“What do you mean by that?” You asked, confused by the proposition. 

It didn’t take a second before Sirius put his hand over yours, shoving the key between both your fingers as he grasped the top of your smaller hand. Guiding you to the driver’s door, he took control of your enclosed hands, firmly dragging the key down the fresh paint. You fought the urge to wince as it squealed had Sirius’s larger hand not kept yours in place. 

“Like this,” he breathed into your ear. Your back was pressed flush to his chest, his free hand languidly grasping your hip. You flushed at the closeness. “Now do the other side, alone,” He said, grasping your hips with both hands to guide you to the passenger's side. 

You squatted down, digging the key into the car and dragging it to the gas pump. When you looked behind you, Sirius was smiling in delight. 

“Perfect,” he muttered, but he wasn’t looking at the new damage to Chad’s car. He was looking at you. 

Suddenly, you noticed Chad’s apartment filled with golden light through a window directly above where you and Sirius stand, vandalizing his car. 

Sirius must’ve noticed, too, but he grabbed your hand and his keys again. “Fuck, we have to run,” He deduced. 

You fought the urge to squeal as your body filled with sudden adrenaline, both you and Sirius taking off in a wild sprint.

♡ ♡ ♡

You panted from the exercise when you reached a park eight blocks away, leaning against a tree as Sirius sat on the grass. Your lungs greedily took in the air. You jolted your head downwards when you heard Sirius throw his head back in a throaty laugh. 

“That was magnificent,” Sirius concluded, a broad grin overtaking his features. 

You couldn’t help but laugh with him, clutching your stomach and falling to the floor beside him. 

“Yeah, it was,” you agreed. “Thanks for convincing me to do it,” you offered up, appreciative of your best friend. 

Sirius hummed in response, brushing his thumb across your cold knuckles. “Hopefully, next time, he’ll think before he cheats,” he muttered, smiling softly at you. 

You couldn’t help but smile back, leaning your head against his warm shoulder. “Yeah,” you agreed. But with Sirius’s warm body radiating heat into yours, you could care less about Chad cheating. 

You just appreciated having Sirius here with you, and you grasped onto his hand for emphasis. You figured he felt the same way when he dragged your now enclosed hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of yours.

[flannel-cladpika]

Midoriya Izuku x F!Reader - Her

A/N: Based off the song "Friends to Lovers" by Melina KB. For some reason, was really feeling some Izuku angst.

TW: ANGSTY AF, Implied cheating, Massive Insecurities

Joining Class A in third year made you feel a bit weird.

Sure, you were over the moon to have gotten into your dream school, but it was so hard to move away from your parents and friends back home.

But your worries about not fitting in were quelled by the super cute freckled boy you met your first day.

"I'm Midoriya. Welcome to Class A!" He greeted you with a blindingly bright smile.

Midoriya was gracious enough to show you around the school, rambling as you two walked around. You smiled as you listened to his words.

Cute, kind, and dorky. You felt your cheeks becoming warm as you continued to stare to him, noticing the way his forest-green eyes shown as he spoke.

Damn, was he pretty.

Midoriya became your first friend at UA, introducing you to his own friend group, helping you expand your social circle. You ended up in the seat next to him too, so you always got a perfect view of his adorable freckles and smile.

It was nice.

He greeted you with a beaming grin every morning and always helped you with homework when you needed it.

After a few months of close friendship, everyone was teasing you two about you guys seeming to be practically dating and you two swearing it was just platonic. Finally, the day before graduation, you went to his dorm room, intending to confess your feelings.

When he opened the door, he was shirtless in gray joggers and was panting a bit with sweat dripping down his brow.

"(Y/n)? W-What are you doing here? It's nearly curfew." He asked, sounding a bit out of breath.

"Why are you breathing heavy?" You asked back instead of answering his own query.

"O-Oh! I was just working out." He responded immediately.

You laughed a bit. Of course he'd be working out, even at this time of day. The guy was determined.

"So, what're you doing here?" He reiterated his previous inquiry.

Your face flushed as you remembered why you'd wanted to see the mossy-haired boy.

"A-actually, can I come in? It's kind of private..." You replied, your face turning redder at your own words as you looked down at the now very interesting floor.

You didn't see it, but the boy in front of you became a bit pinker at your request.

"S-Sure. Come in. " He replied, stepping aside to allow you in.

As you walked into his room, you'd noticed that it was full of All Might memorabilia and some gym equipment like hand weights and a stationary bike along with a desk and chair.

Midoriya walked over to pull out his desk chair for you and took a seat on his own bed facing you.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" He asked kindly, his voice full of patience and care.

You kept your eyes to the floor as you took a deep breath.

It was now or never.

"I-I..." you started, voice trembling.

You took another deep breath and looked up to meet a pair of curious emerald eyes.

"Midoriya, I love you." You said with as much confidence as you could muster.

The curiosity in those eyes changed to surprise as their owner stammered, struggling to find his voice.

"You don't have to give me an answer. I just wanted you to know." You said as your gaze fell to the floor again. You stood from your chair to leave until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Wait! You didn't let me respond!" Midoriya said, sounding a little panicked.

You turned around to face the boy, only to be faced with his worried expression that softened when he saw that you were facing him.

"I like you too." he said, voice soft and sincere.

Something in you snapped and you leaned forward to bring your lips to his.

Midoriya was surprised by your actions, but soon reciprocated, kissing back passionately as his hands came to hold you by the waist.

You soon found yourself backing him up until he was sitting on his bed and you were in his lap, legs on either side of his.

Hormones were running high as he pulled you closer and changed the position, having you under him with your back on the bed and him on top of you.

You pulled him down for another kiss, having dreamt of this moment for months and feeling like you were on cloud nine.

The rest of the night the two of you were rather....occupied.

-Timeskip-

For the next year or so, you were in a daze, blind to everything around you except work and your wonderful boyfriend, Deku.

You found he was just as caring and kind in your relationship as he was as a friend.

But as time went on, you slowly came down from your lovesick haze.

The first thing that started to lift the veil from your eyes was at the Class A Reunion Christmas party, where you found out that Midoriya and Ochako had gotten matching elf costumes. He told you it was just a silly tradition that had started in second year and how was just for fun.

You had planned for you two to wear matching Santa and Mrs. Claus outfits, but you didn't want to ruin the mood, so you let it go while trying not to hold it against them.

Then, during the party, the two seemed to get awfully chummy, dancing together and even partnering up for a few slow songs. You tried to brush it off, after all, they'd been friends for years, of course they were allowed to dance with each other.

Even after Midoriya kissed under the mistletoe and gave you a beautiful emerald necklace as your Christmas present, there was still a small amount of doubt in your heart that you soon pushed down in favor of trying to enjoy the holiday with your boyfriend.

The next incident was when you found out that Midoriya had partnered with Ochako for a rescue mission without you.

Normally, that wouldn't have been a big deal, but it was one that your quirk would've been better suited for and you had been free at the time.

When you confronted your boyfriend about it later, he almost sounded defensive.

"Her agency was closer to the site and there wasn't much time. It was just business, I promise, dear." he said, stepping forward to bringing you into an embrace and rest his chin atop your head.

You hummed, not fully satisfied, but knowing that lying wasn't really in character for him. He wouldn't lie to you.

He lied to you.

Sure, not telling you or talking to you about his quirk wasn't exactly lying. But that wasn't the point.

You found out that Midoriya hadn't told you the truth about his quirk from Ochako.

Midoriya had run to use the bathroom in the middle of group movie night and the brunette had turned to Tsu and Iida, a thought suddenly popping in her head.

"You guys remember when Deku's black whip first manifested back in first year?" she asked.

Tsu and Iida both nodded while you cocked your head to the side in confusion. What? What did she mean 'first manifested in first year?'

You heard her mention how he had come to her, Sero, and Tsuyu for advice on how to best utilize it, and how after Float manifested as well, he came to her alone for more training and how they still sometimes work together so that he can get the hang of it.

As the three reminisced about first year, you tuned out their conversation and actually stayed zoned out for the rest of the night, attempting to comprehend what Ochako had said.

You talked to Izuku later that night and found out that he had actually kept his quirk a secret from you, though for good reason.

You understood his reasoning, but you didn't understand why he hadn't told you that he was training with Ochako every week without telling you.

He reassured you that it was only training and nothing else, and that he saw her as a sister.

It wasn't until you caught him looking at her at a concert the five of you went to that you realized how screwed you were.

You were behind him, about to surprise him after coming back from getting snacks, and you saw him looking longingly to the left.

You followed his gaze at saw that he was looking at your brunette friend, his expression anything but platonic.

You wanted to cry, but instead held it in and went to sit down next to him, trying to act like everything was ok.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed more things that caused you to doubt your relationship with the green-eyed male.

He came home one afternoon after stopping off at Uraraka's place (he said he had left his watch there after your last group movie night), and had what looked like a hickey on his neck.

You were heartbroken, but tried to rationalize that there was probably a reason for it, asking him casually what happened.

He looked a bit nervous and told you it was from a kitchen accident at her place.

You didn't fight him on it, instead accepting the excuse as you went to bed next to him, nearly crying as you curled into yourself.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed and turned on the TV, watching the news. It was an interview with Izuku. The interviewer asked him questions about you, and he replied happily.

But when they asked questions about Ochako... he looked excited and spoke fondly of her, praising her hardwork and her determination. He spoke so highly of her, and laughed as he recounted a funny rescue story where she was involved.

The entire thing just broke your heart. You realized you were just 2nd place in his heart... why was he even dating you when he clearly loved her?

You shook your head, breaking out of your trance as you step back. You look around the room and start to pack up your things. You were done being a third wheel in your own relationship.