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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

Note

BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.

Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.

Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.

7.15am

Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.

By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.

This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.

Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.

What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.

8.39 am

Fun fact!

When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.

Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.

Another fun fact!

If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.

What fun facts.

At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.

(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)

10.41am

Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.

Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.

11.20am

Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today. Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech. Let's see some quotes!

On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:

“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”

Fair, but also you are a government, George.

On Tories who attack the civil service:

“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right."

... right. But you just... Uh.

On Tory culture warriors:

“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”

Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.

1pm

Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.

But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.

Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

3.45pm

Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.

The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.

3.50pm

Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.

Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.

The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.

The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”

On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.

3.56pm

The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.

Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.

An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO

3.57pm

Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.

I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.

4.12pm

Good tweet alert!

5.08pm

Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.

He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?

Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).

Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.

Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.

An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.

Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals. His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.

(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.

Why were they offered at all, do you think?)

So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant. Like, actually. Genuinely.

Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.

5.44pm

The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:

Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden. He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".

Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office. At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.

Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened

Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew. Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.

Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:

What a sea of punchable faces.

7.58pm

But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:

Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?

The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.

Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.

This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.

8.02pm

Boris Johnson

QUITS

as an MP

The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.

He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!

"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".

Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.

(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”?? What are you planning, Big Dog?? I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)

8.41pm

Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.

11.43pm

And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:

Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.

Not a bad finish.

#asks #long post #politik #the adventures of big dog the clown

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 8 months

Text

A Friend In Need’s A Friend Indeed — Azriel x Cassian.

Summary: Azriel’s been mighty stressed recently. Cassian is a good friend with a good suggestion and a good mouth.

Note: I still haven’t had a chance to sort out my tag lists, I’m sorry. This has been sitting in my drafts for ages. Life has been so busy recently 😅

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors dni. 💕

It’s clear to Cassian, the second he walks into the room, that the shadowsinger is in a foul mood.

In all honesty, Azriel has been in a foul mood all week.

He’s not very good at striking a work-life balance. Missions and reports and information flood his thoughts and keep him awake at night. They have done every night this week.

So when Cassian slumps down in the armchair opposite his, he eyes his friend and knows — Azriel is not going to be pleasant company tonight.

His brow is deeply furrowed and darkened as he stares down at the papers in his hands. Cassian considers asking him what, exactly, the report pertains to — but he selfishly decides that the information will numb his brain, and he doesn’t think he can bear to hear it right now. Whatever. Az doesn’t even glance up at him.

So Cass pours himself a drink and settles into the chair. And only after the fifth time Azriel sighs — yes, he’s counting — does he ask, “Long day?”

Az simply grunts and turns the page. This is going to be a long night.

"You look like you could use a drink," the Illyrian General pauses. "Or ten."

No reply.

Cass says, "Az."

"What, Cassian?"

"Why don't you put those papers down and have a conversation? Or better yet, let's go to Rita's—"

"I'm busy."

Cassian purses his lips. “The world isn’t going to end if you set your work aside for the night.”

“Your world is going to end if you don’t stop yapping in my ear,” Azriel pauses, scans the paper — and then growls, chucking it onto the coffee table in front of them both. “This is fucking pointless.”

Maybe Cass should ask, he thinks. He studies his friend. “What is it, exactly, that’s had you in such a foul mood all week?”

Azriel’s bleary hazel eyes merely flick up to him; clearly he doesn’t appreciate the observation. Dark smudges sit beneath his eyes. His entire body, shadows and all, is coiled tightly. Tense.

Oh. Oh. A fight, Cassian realises — a fight is what’s going to take the edge off. Goading Az, provoking him…he’s done it more times than he can count in centuries of friendship. Letting him get a few punches in will surely ease the tension. Cass is willing to do that for him.

“You’ve just been a rain cloud of fucking doom all week,” he smirks as the shadowsinger stiffens even more. “Perhaps you need to get laid. Although, no one will surely come near you while you’re walking around with a face like a slapped ass.”

Cassian waits for his retort. For him to surge forward and knock him out of the chair, or for him to demand that they go right up to the training rings at once and speak through their fists, considering Cass clearly has a lot to say.

But Azriel’s jaw ticks, and he merely shoots back, “Suck my dick, Cassian.”

The mischief almost winks out of Cass’s eyes. Almost. It’s not the response he’s expecting.

But he rights himself and sits up, his smirk widening. “Is that what it will take to cheer you up, Az? Getting your cock between my lips? When was the last time someone sucked you dry?”

The irritated twitching of Azriel’s eye tells Cassian that it’s been way, way too long since someone sucked him dry. And that shocks Cass. Az has many lovers dotted about the city — many different people he could lose himself in for a couple of hours. If he’s not even tearing himself away from his stress for some mindless pleasure, it must be bad.

“Cauldron,” Cassian raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should suck your dick.”

There’s no response. Not even a bark for him to fuck off. Azriel simply shifts in his armchair and clutches a cushion to his lap.

And Cass tracks the movement. He narrows his eyes on that cushion, and it takes him a shamefully delayed moment to realise that it’s been very deliberately placed there. He chokes out a laugh, “Holy shit, are you hard?”

“I wouldn’t be,” Az grits his teeth, “if you’d just shut the fuck up and stop talking about sucking my dick. It’s been a while, okay? I’m wound up.”

“…And is your hand not working, or…”

“It’s not enough. I’ve tried. I can’t…I can’t come.”

Silence settles between them. For once, Cassian isn’t quite sure what to say.

And perhaps Az is expecting him to make a joke, because he shakes his head and quickly stands. Grabs his reports. Makes to book it the fuck out of there.

But Cass says, “Wait.”

“Forget it, Cass—”

“I’m not laughing at you, Az,” he sits up. “You know I’ll always help you in any way that I can.”

Azriel scoffs. “What, like sucking my dick?”

“Why not?”

“Can you be fucking serious for five minutes.”

Cass shrugs, “I’m completely serious.”

Azriel stares back at him, narrowing his eyes. But the usual humour and banter…it’s absent. His face is open, honest.

He’s serious, Az realises. Completely serious.

The shadowsinger raises an eyebrow. “Cass…”

“Are you saying no?”

“…Well, no—”

“So sit down, Az.”

The choice is entirely Azriel’s, and the shadowsinger himself knows that. He can sit down and…and take what Cass is offering…or he can walk out of here and leave that boundary unbreached.

It feels a little surreal as his feet begin moving. Back over to the chair he’d vacated.

He thinks he might be shaking, which is weird, but sex and all that it involves tends to come naturally to Az. But in five centuries, it’s a line that he and Cassian have never crossed. They’ve seen each other naked plenty of times. They’ve fucked other people in the same room. It’s never come to this.

Until now.

Azriel watches as Cassian rises from his chair and stalks over. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this, can’t believe Cassian is actually offering.

But there’s nothing but sheer will in the General’s eyes as he sinks to his knees. Azriel parts his legs for him.

He swallows hard as Cass drags his hands up his legs. And his voice comes out in a rasp as he says, “You don’t have to do this—”

“Az?” Cass cuts him off.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and enjoy it.”

He can hardly argue with that. And as Cassian unlaces Azriel’s breeches and tugs them apart, the spymaster isn’t sure he’d be able to find the words, anyway.

Cassian’s hand is huge and warm and rough and callused. And as he reaches into Az’s breeches and pulls his hardened cock out, both males let out a little breath.

“Oh, yeah,” Cass eyes the rigid length, the swollen head, leaking with moisture. “You really need this.”

Azriel’s response dies on his tongue at the first stroke. He can only manage a grunt.

“Whatever you need, Az,” Cassian pumps his hand, dipping his head. “Fuck my mouth. I can take it.”

And then, gripping Azriel’s cock in his hand, he drags a broad stroke of his tongue, from the base to the head. Azriel’s hips jerk.

“Shit,” he grits his teeth, eyes intently on Cassian’s tongue.

Cassian smiles and does it again, “Like that?”

“Yeah. Yes. Can you…”

“Put you in my mouth?” as his tongue once again reaches the head, he wraps his mouth around it and hums his approval. He laps at that little pearl of moisture that’s waiting there.

“Fuck, Cass,” Azriel gasps. He relaxes in the seat, fingers sinking into Cassian’s hair.

Cass realises quickly that he enjoys this. He’s had the odd experience with males over the years, but it’s mostly females that take his fancy. But this — feeling Azriel’s cock disappear into his mouth, feeling his thigh flex under his hand, feeling him jerking and writhing on the spot — gods above, he’s so fucking hard right now.

His lips and tongue seem to work in tandem. He drags his mouth over Azriel’s length, licking and sucking as he goes. And then he pulls his lips off him and repeats.

Azriel’s breaths are picking up. This is so much better than his hand. He actually feels like he might come, and not just be beating away at pleasure that never comes to anything. He moans, pulling at the strands of Cassian’s hair. And at the same time, he uses his other hand to push Cass’s head down.

“Gods, Cass, your mouth,” he growls, encouraging the bobbing motion that Cassian’s head falls into. With every push, Cass takes him in deeper, deeper.

And with saliva dripping from his chin, and the head of Az’s dick damn near grazing the back of his throat, a single thought crosses Cassian’s mind: he really likes sucking cock.

“Harder,” Az grunts, not even sure he means to say it. But he just wants…wants Cass to be rough. Wants this to be teetering on the edge of pleasured pain.

But Cass pulls his cock out of his mouth, wrapping his hand around the length. He pumps fast, hard, and then says, “Fuck my mouth, Az.”

The second Cassian’s lips are wrapping around him again, Azriel does exactly that.

He’s lifting his hips and gripping Cassian’s head with both hands, and he thrusts, hard, panting and sweating and swearing. Cassian takes it all like a champ, greedily swallowing every taste of him. His hands grip the back of Azriel’s legs, and he slides his mouth all the way down.

And this time, when the head hits the back of his throat, Azriel stills.

“Fuck!” He shouts, groans, gasps, roars. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

His cock is absolutely exploding. A week’s worth of pent-up frustration shoots from him and spills down Cassian’s throat. Cass swallows. And swallows. And swallows. Every last drop. He moans while doing so.

Az thinks his hips are still rolling long after his release has rocked him. He can’t bring himself to let go of the pleasure, to remove his cock from his friends mouth. It twitches on Cassian’s tongue and dribbles the remnants of his seed with every jerk. Cassian stares up at him with swollen lips and lustful eyes.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, the two males finally part. Both are breathing heavily. Cassian wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That was—” Azriel swallows, tucking himself back into his breeches. He doesn’t bother to lace them up. “When did you learn to do that?”

Cassian’s smirk is purely roguish as he pushes to his feet. “I’ve learned a whole lot of things you can’t even begin to imagine,” he rolls his shoulders. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Az watches him, his eyes falling to that hardened bulge that pushes through Cassian’s own trousers. He clearly enjoyed what just occurred. And that thought alone has Az’s cock twitching to life again.

He leans forward, opening his mouth — to say what, to suggest what, he isn’t sure. But before he can voice his desires, footsteps are approaching.

Both males straighten up as Rhys appears in the doorway, a drink in his hand.

The High Lord sniffs, his brow furrowing. And then he looks between his two friends — Az’s unlaced breeches and heaving chest. Cassian’s swollen lips. He puts two and two together.

“Cauldron fucking boil me,” is all he grouses, and then he’s turning back and leaving the way he came.

Leaving Cassian and Azriel alone once more.

#azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #cassian acotar #acotar fic #cassian x azriel #smut

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shwoyo · 3 months

Text

co-pawrenting. — timeskip!keiji akaashi x fem!reader

; fluff, roommate au – wc: 3,351

warnings: kissing at the end lol, ooc akaashi? idk, he's kinda flirty

notes: kinda rushed ending, i wrote it half asleep pls spare me 😭 i love you akaashi ... also old layout bcuz this has been sitting in my drafts for a while

you couldn't resist yourself. the little one has been outside the café you were working at for one week; starving, cute, and it was a ragdoll. do people know how much these kinds of cats cost? luckily, as a cat lover, you always carried spare cat food in your bag, so you always fed her... then gave in and took her back to your shared apartment, not telling akaashi.

you tried your best to hide her; you knew akaashi wouldn't approve... you think. pets were allowed in your apartment building, but you didn't know if akaashi approved of pets; that's why you decided to hide the cat you found on the streets in your room.

you were successful in the next three days, akaashi coming home not knowing a clue that there was a third living being in the apartment. but in all honesty, you didn't know how long you could keep this up. the cat was getting bored just sitting and playing alone in your room, nowhere else to go besides the bathroom attached to your room, but the cat rarely ever goes there.

—

it was friday in the afternoon, and you were on your way home, grabbing snacks on the way to feast on on your daily friday movie night with akaashi. walking from your work to the apartment was fun; it was a 15 minute walk, which you were grateful for because it meant you didn't have to buy a car for now. and because there were a lot of cats on the streets, kind of delaying you, which makes it more of an 18 minute walk.

reaching your apartment building, you went on the elevator, pressing the button of your floor, then the close button so you wouldn't have to go through the elevator with someone else. once you reached your floor, you went to the door and entered the apartment.

you were shocked, surprised, and kind of scared. the cat was on the kitchen counter, with akaashi looking at it as if inspecting it. you looked at the door to your room; it was left open. you always left your door closed; did you forget to close it this time?

"akaashi–" you started, he gave you a questioning look before speaking, "what's this? how'd this enter our apartment?" "uhm, well– it's a cat! you see," you nervously let out a laugh, moving towards where he was. "and... how did it enter our apartment?" akaashi added, "well, uhm... i let it in! you know, it wanted to stay over for a little while," you joked, still feeling nervous. "hm," he voiced with a questioning tone, looking at you once more but with a raised eyebrow.

you folded when he gave you that look, so you explained, "okay okay! i saw it outside the building i was working at. she was there for one week! i fed her every day, and she was growing on me. so i gave in and took her home. "c'mon keiji, she's so adorable, how could i just leave her out there astray?" you defended yourself.

akaashi seemed to think for a second, sighing before speaking, "you know, you could've just told me. you didn't have to hide her." "well, i just thought you wouldn't approve of her." "in that case, you thought wrong. please don't hide anything like this ever again," akaashi said. "i won't, i promise. i'm sorry for hiding her from you" you replied, "it's fine," he stated.

"well... what's her name then?" "oh well, i haven't chosen yet. i'm stuck between snow or vanilla." you replied, "really? those are choices you're going with?" akaashi judged, "hey! don't judge me; i'm not that creative," you rebutted.

"well what about you? do you have an idea?" you questioned, "hmm, how about pearl? i think it's kind of fitting." he suggested. you let out a gasp and spoke, "that's perfect! it does fit her." akaashi let out a laugh at your reaction. "i guess pearl's your name," he said as he looked at the cat, which is still seated at the counter.

y/n 🐈: keiji! are you still at work?

akaashi 😸: yes, why?

y/n 🐈: i'm sorry to bother, but could you pls buy cat food otw home? i thought i still had more, turns out i already fed her the last batch earlier. T_T

akaashi 😸: don't worry you're not a bother. what exact cat food do you buy?

y/n 🐈: oh hold on a second

y/n 🐈: *sent a picture*

akaashi 😸: okay. i'll stop by the pet store later

y/n 🐈: thank you so much keiji! ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

akaashi closed his phone and laughed; the way you texted was cute, he thought.

once his work was done, he went to the pet store that was near his route on his way home.

–

"i'm back," akaashi announced. "oh keiji! did you buy the cat food?" you asked, walking towards him. "yep," he replied as he gave you the plastic bag containing the cat food. "i also bought us some food; its your favorite" he added, "ooh! thanks keiji, you didn't have to tho!" you said.

you both walked in the kitchen and placed the food he bought on the table. "how much did you pay for mine? i'll pay you," you asked. "no its okay, its on me," he replied, "huh? really?" you tilted your head a bit, looking up at him in shock. "yeah" he said, smiling, "thank you soso much keiji! i owe you one!" you replied

you went on and prepared the table, getting plates and utensils, while akaashi unwrapped the food he bought. "oh wait hold on, i'll feed pearl first," you said as you placed the utensils on the plates and grabbed the cat food.

you didn't have the time to buy an actual food bowl for pearl, so you used a plastic container instead. pouring the right amount of cat food on the container, you placed it down and grabbed a cup of water, pouring it on another plastic container; serving as the water bowl for the cat.

"pearl! come here, your food is ready!" you called out softly. pearl came out of your room and went down towards you. since akaashi knows about the cat now, you made it a habit to leave the door open so pearl can come in and out as she likes.

as she started to eat, you stood up and went back to the table, where akaashi was sitting down, scrolling through his phone with his plate ready. "whatcha reading? you haven't taken a bite of your food yet," you said. "nothing, 'm just waiting for you so we can eat together," he replied.

your heart skipped a beat; he was waiting for you just to... eat together? you dismissed the thought before you could read too much into it. maybe he was just being nice, that's all.

you sat down and prepared your plate with the food akaashi bought. "ahm—okay i'm done. let's eat now?" you announced, "mhm" he replied, putting his phone down.

"how was work?" you started, trying to stir up a conversation while you guys eat. "hmm, it was okay. although, one of my co-workers deleted an important file, good thing someone was techy enough and was able to recover it." he replied, "what about you? any new news?" he asked

"well, nothing much is going on. i guess i'm just overthinking about pearl, my boss said i'd have to work 'til 7pm on wednesdays, since one of my coworkers retired," you answered. "ahh, hmm" akaashi thought for a moment.

"do you want me to take care of pearl? lucky enough, i only work 'til 1pm on wednesdays." he stated, "wait—really? i mean—are you okay with doing that? you don't have to if it's a burden," you said. "no, i assure you it's fine. pearl lives here now with us; i can be one of her... parent if you call it that. i'll take care of her whenever you can't—i guess it's um called... co-parenting?" he said.

"well, co-pawrenting in this situation," he joked while smiling. you giggled at his joke, despite it being quite cheesy. "i mean, if you put it that way... are you sure though?" you asked one last time, "mhm, im 100% sure. i'll text you whenever i have a problem, though," he said.

–

it was wednesday, and as previously stated, you had to work 'til 7pm today. you kept checking your phone from time to time; it was 4pm which means akaashi was probably home already; you were waiting for a text from him in case he had any problems.

"hey y/n, could you help me for a moment? i'm not sure what i'm supposed to do," your new co-worker asked. "yeah sure, what's up?" "am i supposed to put the ice in a separate glass or put the ice in the milk?" he questioned, "oh, you need to put it in the separate glass, then put the milk and syrup," you explained. "ah, okay. thanks!" he smiled. "you're welcome," you said, walking back to the cashier.

you were scrolling through your phone as you waited for a customer to arrive, then akaashi texted.

akaashi 😸: hello, y/n. sorry to bother, what time did you feed pearl today?

y/n 🐈: hi keiji! no worries, i fed her earlier at 12! you don't need to feed her right now 😸

akaashi 😸: ah well... pearl keeps on meowing and pawing her container, does this mean she's hungry?

y/n 🐈: OHH wellll, you should just give her at least 2 treats for now!

akaashi 😸: alright.

akaashi 😸: pearl came and sat on my lap.

akaashi 😸: sent a photo.

y/n 🐈: AWWW MY BABY IS SO CUTE

akaashi 😸: which one

akaashi 😸: oh uhm don't mind that. i sent it wrong.

akaashi 😸: sorry

akaashi 😸: 😊

y/n 🐈: HEHAHAUAHAH IT'S FINE!

y/n 🐈: i think both of you are cute 🫶

you pressed send on the last text and immediately closed your phone; it was such a 'risky' text, you thought. but, you overthought what akaashi meant when he sent 'which one'.

you heard your phone ding once again. slowly opening your phone, you saw akaashi's text.

akaashi 😸: hahaha, thank you ☺️💗

you sighed, closing your phone again. your heart was pounding so fast.

honestly, when you first met akaashi, you thought nothing of it. he was your nice roommate, your new friend. you haven't thought about initiating any kind of... commitment with him. well, until now.

ever since you got pearl, you both got even closer. ever since he proposed being pearl's 'co-parent', it's like you saw him in a new light. he was so good at taking care of pearl, despite her just being a cat. he treated her as if she were his child; of course you did too. you don't think any other guy in your life would take care of your cat like its his child.

but not only did he take good care of your cat, but also you. he was so caring. you're too tired to wash the dishes? its okay; akaashi will handle that for you. you got sick suddenly? you're in good hands; akaashi will take care of you. you're hungry? akaashi will order your favorite food for you; he'll even pay for it.

he was so good to you... and your cat, and you fell for him at that.

of course, akaashi also had his thoughts. honestly speaking, he never does this for anyone else; he doesn't care this much about anyone else. but you were you.

you took care of him too. you were there for him when he needed someone; when he was having trouble with editing the manga they were working on; when he was sick.

he was so grateful.

you both were so happy you had each other.

it was thursday, which meant you went home earlier than akaashi. you were watching tv with pearl curled up on your lap. you contemplated whether or not you should move; akaashi was gonna come home any minute now and it was your turn to cook food; it wasn't necessary, but you wanted to; akaashi mentioned that he had an important meeting today, and it was late. you were quite hungry too.

you moved pearl off your lap as gently as you could to not wake her up; unlucky you though, she woke up. you bid her a small sorry, and stood up, walking your way to the kitchen.

you checked all the cabinets and sighed. maybe you should've gone grocery shopping on your day off. the cabinets contained chips, some different ramen noodles, candies, and other unhealthy food. you opted for the buldak noodles; akaashi was the one who bought them, so you guessed that it would work.

cooking up the noodles, you thought of adding something to make it... less boring. you brought out sliced cheese, seaweed, and milk to lessen the spice. it was 3 extra ingredients, but it was enough to make it more enjoyable.

time passed by quickly, you were done cooking, and the table was prepared. you checked your phone and saw that akaashi sent a text, it was sent at 5:38, but you checked the clock and saw that it was already 5:55.

akaashi 😸: hi y/n :)

akaashi 😸: sorry to disturb, but if you're wondering why i'm not home yet, the meeting went a little longer. i'll be home at 6 🩷

y/n 🐈: slrr! i was cooking up some noodles for uss, i'll just wait for you!

akaashi 😸: really? thank you. but you should eat now, you don't have to wait for me.

y/n 🐈: nooo i insist! i'll wait for you and that's final, okee?

akaashi 😸: hahaha 😆 okay fine. i'm near the building, i'll run for you.

y/n 🐈: hey noo, u might trip!

akaashi 😸: i'll be fine. past vb player, remember?

y/n 🐈: mmm okayy okayy

you smiled, closing your phone. you put the lid on the noodles so they won't get cold as you wait for akaashi.

not that true to his words; akaashi got home at 5:59, just a minute earlier. you were now at the kitchen eating with him.

"so, how was the meeting?" you started, "good, apparently we'll have a new big project after we finish our current one." "ooh, sounds like you'll be busy." "hm yea," akaashi says. he thinks for a second, "but i'll still be able to help you take care of pearl, i promise you."

you turned to look at him, "huh? oh! but you don't have to, you know, pearl will be alright; i'm still here." "yeah but, i won't be a good father to her if i'll leave her all to you just because i'm busy, right?" akaashi stated.

"oh—mm, yeah—but," you thought for a second, 'won't be a good father to her?! what'd that mean? "hm?" akaashi hummed as you stopped talking. "ahm—okay, but—uh—father? w-what did you mean by that?" you asked. "ah, well, we are kind of co-parenting her, aren't we? she's our child; i have to take responsibility," he stated.

child... our child ?! our child? you widened your eyes; you thought you were hearing this wrong. "ah, oh—yeah, okay" you replied, responding nothing else to avoid saying anything stupid. akaashi smiled at your widened eyes; he thought your reaction was cute.

in all honesty—he said that on purpose. just to see your reaction. he always thinks your reactions are cute. he makes a mental note to try and 'flirt' more.

–

ever since that day—akaashi became more bold, unconsciously—you think—flirting with you. but you didn't know he did it on purpose, because, as stated, he wanted to see your reactions.

how would you know, though? he flirts nonchalantly—but with a smile. he randomly mentions how pretty you are, how beautiful your hair looks, and how he's glad to be... pearl's dad.

now you were confused; where was this going? he may just be playing with you. maybe this was just temporary.

your brain was eating you up; you were overthinking this so bad for no reason.

–

"keiji, do you want food?" you asked, looking at him. it was Friday at 9PM, and you guys were watching a movie. "sure," akaashi replied. "i'll get some chips; will that be okay? sorry, i don't wanna make food right now," you stated. "it's alright, pretty," he replied. "okay, babe"

this was basically your everyday now; you guys flirt. it was... normal for you guys now, for some reason.

you stood up and went to the kitchen, grabbing random chips that weren't eaten yet and water to avoid dehydration.

walking back to the couch where akaashi was seated, placing the foodstuffs you obtained on the table, you sat down next to him very closely; your legs were touching, but akaashi paid no mind to it like it was normal.

focusing your gaze on the movie, you relaxed, feeling akaashi's warmth as he was very close to you. as if you guys weren't close enough, he draped his arms around your shoulders. you tensed up and quickly turned your head, looking at him, and he just smiled. slowly looking back at the tv, you tried to relax as you did seconds ago.

this man was gonna kill you, you thought.

grabbing the chips you brought, he spoke, "do you wanna go to the beach tomorrow?" "random, but sure, it'd be nice to swim," you replied. akaashi nodded in acknowledgment.

–

true to his words this time, akaashi brought you to the beach. it was a fun day; you helped a kid find his lost toy in the water, built sand castles, drew on the sand, commenced a water fight with akaashi, and played some beach volleyball with random people.

it was the rest you both needed; you were so grateful that akaashi thought about this; and he was grateful that you had fun.

the sun was setting, and you and akaashi were drying off, sitting down on the sand with towels draped around your shoulders. the sky's hues were so beautiful to look at, so you grabbed your phone from your bag to take a picture.

akaashi looked at you the whole time you were taking photos; the sunset illuminated your beauty; you were so, so pretty. it was the right moment; he should do it now, akaashi thought.

"hey, y/n?" he called out. you hummed in reply, putting your phone back in your bag. he cleared his throat and looked at you lovingly.

"i hope i won't shock you with this. uhm—please don't say anything yet." he started. you looked at him confused at first, but nodded as to tell him to continue. "i love you," he stated, "ever since the second week of us being roommates, when you took care of me because i got sick, i started falling for you. i tried to ignore it, thinking that maybe it'll go away, but my feelings never faded; it just kept growing."

you were shocked at his confession. you tried to remember the moment he mentioned; it had been 6 months since then. now you were more shocked.

your feelings were more recent; it's been 4 weeks since you started seeing akaashi in a new light. it wouldn't be fair to him, you thought.

"thank you, keiji. i'll be honest with you; i love you too. but the thing is, it's only been like what, 4 weeks since i knew i did? i don't think it would be fair to you." you said. akaashi chuckled, "it's okay, y/n, we can take this slow, you know?" he said.

you smiled, akaashi was truly the guy—the guy you were willing to live with forever, the guy that will be pearl's 'parent.'

"can i?" akaashi asked, holding your face softly. knowing what he meant, you nod in approval. then he kissed you tenderly.

the kiss lasted longer than you expected, 7 seconds max. you pulled back and looked at him; you both laughed.

it was like a scene from a movie; the sun was setting, the wind was sweeping your hair, and you guys were laughing.

akaashi was right when he thought it was the perfect time to confess, and you both couldn't be more happier.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #hq fluff #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #akaashi x you #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x y/n

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heartfullofleeches · 3 months

Note

Heyyoo it's been awhile ! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Just wanna drop off another ask for the MURDER CLOWN GANG ! Since I haven't been active for awhile ( whilst trying to figure out what to do with this acc tbh )

Anyways, it's a return for my oc Ainsley ! And also, since I was backtracking some of the hcs, one caught my eye about Mimey being a stripper which made me pop up an idea for a lil doodle !

And as for the question ! I was wondering what would the gang react to them returning after another heist to Mimey and Ainsley, sitting on the couch counting a large bag of money they got in a gig from the casino / club.

Maybe one of them noticed the bloody metal baseball bat Ainsley's holding as Mimey counts the money happily xD

here's a doodle for ref since idk what to draw (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

"...Either of you need a blanket?"

"...You're all covered in blood... So much bare skin too....damnit...I got drool all over my new shirt again."

"Thank goodness you're home safe... I was so worried...."

"Man, I'm beat.... Mind if I squeeze in between you two?~"

"You're still wearing that?! Whatever.... I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."

"I'm not really to say goodbye to those outfits yet. Stay right there while I grab my camera if you would."

Red runs cold so they spent the entire time worrying the pair would freeze to death. Not so subtly checks both over for injuries as they inquire about their evening. Blue was worried about them as well, but their fears range from the two getting caught to them dying from food poisoning from rancid buffet food(their imaginary runs wild when they panic)

Purple's just trying to get a good look at them for as long as they can. If mime or Ainsley's bloody stockings go missing from the laundry you know who's the culprit. Green is drooling at the sight of them covered in blood for one reason or another. Their rule about not biting teammates might not be in effect that night

Orange being the difficult one of the group refuses to accept how cute either are - distracting themselves any way they can think of before they spill. If weren't being real, Pink likely was the one who made their outfits. Even if they didn't they're a fool for cute people in cute clothing.

(Sorry for the delay, chief! This was sitting my drafts for a minute. Great work as always - I love the little bows on their stockings ❤️🤡)

#Murder clown gang #Mimey got that bank #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere clown #Fanart

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narcissistshandler · 1 year

Note

More of Jake Kim x top!male reader please! Like the reader help Jake to unwind after a long day (and also can you please add 69 position too, like somewhere in the story?) Thank you in advance!

𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖*𝗖𝗞

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x jake kim/kim gimyung

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom!jake, 69, blowjob (jake giving reader), rimming and fingering (reader giving jake), anal sex, very light sub/dom dynamic alternating between sub/dom jake and sub/dom reader

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This one is another that was in my drafts for weeks because I got lost in the narrative, sorry for the delay

Not even if Jake wanted to he would be able to hide from you how tired he was, so even in front of your slightly worried look he just smiled as he let the bag slide from his shoulder to the floor, giving you that usual bright smile and fell into your open arms on the sofa in the living room. There were deep circles under his dark eyes, and even the daily phone calls weren't enough to make up for it when Jake spent the last few days away from home, training and looking to learn more about his dad.

"You need a shower," you said, arms tightening around his waist so you could hold him closer.

"Wow, thanks, I missed you too, [name]," he replied, feigning annoyance that broke within seconds as a chuckle escaped his lips. You weren't wrong though, Jake spent the last few hours on on a long journey in a stuffy bus because it was the last option if he wanted to get home today and Jake couldn't stand being one day longer away from you, from what was left of the Big Deal and from home.

"I missed you," you stated, lifting his chin with your index finger so you could take his lips in a kiss. "So much."

Jake melted against your chest, the weight in his shoulders seeming to melt away as your lips molded against each other. His mouth dropped open for you in a show of submission that didn't sit well with him. But Jake was damn tired and he couldn't think of anything better than to lay back and let you have your way with him.

You pulled back, breaking the kiss, your hands trailing down Jake's rigid back over the sweat-soaked t-shirt - from shoulder blades to coccyx.

"You're tense," you commented. "Dinner, shower and sleep?"

And as tempting as that offer was, Jake countered:

"Bath and you fuck me until I pass out?"

One of your hands came up to run through his hair and Jake could almost see the thoughts running through your head, but more than that, he could feel you slowly getting hard against his stomach and he almost instinctively moved to touch you, hand open falling over the tent that formed in your pants.

"You-" you started, but cut yourself off with a soft moan, eyes darkening. "Okay, whatever you want, yeobo."

The freezing water under that Jake did his best to take a quick shower under and make sure his body was clean for you was unable to lessen the heat building in his body like flames slowly getting bigger. The odor of sweat was replaced by the smell of soap and water and when Jake pressed two fingers inside himself to make sure he was ready and clean for you, his dick reacted in an interested twitch even under the cold spray. That's when he decided he couldn't wait another minute.

You were sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, naked — as Jake had ordered you before entering the bathroom —, cock hard against the stomach with the head red and oozing, begging to be touched, you didn't however, never would dare touch yourself without Jake's express and clear permission and you hadn't received it in weeks.

It was hard to know which of you two was more looking forward to having the other after so long apart.

Jake dripped all the way from the bathroom to the bed, wet footprints and water droplets left behind on the floor and then onto the sheet as he climbed onto the bed. In erotic familiarity, placing each leg on either side of your hips and sitting on top of you, like a king on a throne. The feel of your bare skins touching sent an instant thrill through his veins.

Your hands landed on his hips, cocks mere inches apart. Jake melted under the attention, an almost basic need to be near you, under you or over you igniting all of his senses, more than he needed to breathe or eat or sleep or drink, he needed you and it was getting harder and harder keep thinking straight.

"How do you want this, jagiya?" The title of 'sir' or 'boss' or 'master' for when you felt more submerged and obedient than usual wasn't there today, although the lightness in your tone was the same as usual, a silent plea for 'please tell me what to do'.

"First," Jake began, gently rocking his hips. Your cocks rubbed together briefly, the sensitive tips bumping into each other and mixing the leaking pre-cum before Jake's hips drew back again. Your fingers tightened on his waist as you watched the lustful display. "Kiss me."

You did. You kissed him hard and longingly, wistful after all the days you spent apart, fingers sinking into his skin and pulling him against you as your tongue slipped into his mouth.

Jake's mouth opened easily for you, hand finding your hard cock that pressed against his. You were already wet for him, already oozing even though he barely touched you.

Jake's fingers barely closed around your cock and each pull drew familiar, erotic sounds from you that were lost in the kiss. He knew you made even more delicious sounds when his mouth was on you, when your cock worked its way down his throat at whatever pace Jake decided he wanted. His mouth watered at the faint memory of your smell and taste; hole tightening.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss and lowered his attention to watch the bulbous head of your cock disappearing between his thin, callused fingers, semi-transparent beads of pre-cum wetting them.

"I want you inside," he said, the honey-sweet words rolling off his tongue. "Get me ready for your cock."

You snarled like a wild animal and he felt your cock twitch in the grip of his hand. Jake can't help but laugh, proud of himself for having such an effect on you.

"Go get the lube and stop teasing me or I might come before I even get inside you."

"Dare and I'll put a chastity belt on you."

Jake gave you two last tugs, finding it difficult to stop touching you before getting off of you and crawling to the end of the bed where he could reach the lube on the nightstand among other toys stored there.

You fixed your pillow and moved to lay on the bed, patting your chest. "Come here."

He went with a wide, perverted smile on his thin lips, handing the lube into your hands before positioning himself as you wanted.

Your free hands soon returned to help him position himself, pulling him back until his ass was close to your face. Jake's legs sank bent into the mattress, wet cock dragging against your chest and your own cock ending up at a tempting distance from his face. Despite the excitement bubbling in his stomach, the new position brings a flush to his cheeks. Jake couldn't stop thinking about how he must look in your eyes, all open and exposed and within easy reach of you; tight balls visible between the legs and hole twitching where you could now see with your hands holding his ass cheeks apart. Embarrassment aside, he really liked it.

Your breath hit against the wrinkled muscles, a mere forewarning of what was to come before your tongue made the first contact. Jake melted with a loud groan, falling completely flat on top of you, all strength seeming to leave his body.

Your fingers dig into his skinny ass, spreading it further apart as your face sinks against him, your tongue, wet and soft and so good, rubbing against the tightly contracted muscles, licking and kissing and making his hole a mess of saliva and spit. Completely dirty.

His entire body shudders under the stimulation and your tongue is fucking him, pressing its way inside and the muscles in his legs immediately tense, rocking back powerless against the heat of your mouth as he struggles to get more of your tongue, needy. And it's not enough and at the same time it's so much, so much and he wants more, deeper, more-

Jake knew he was being loud, he knew he was being damn loud and damn needy as he rocked back against your mouth, one of his hands reaching behind to help keep himself open as he felt one of your fingers easily slide inside his relaxed hole, and then another one. He had missed it. Missed you, the sex with you.

With his other hand, Jake took your cock and brought it to his mouth, eyes falling closed as the familiar weight slid into his mouth and onto his tongue, the bitter taste of your pre-cum making him moan as soon as it hit his senses.

Your tongue pressed inside him, right between the two fingers you held scissors apart inside him and a muscle in his leg jumped. He could feel his hole opening and closing, tightening around the intrusion, the combined sensations of your fingers and tongue eliciting a insane pleasure from him.

Mind overheated, Jake didn't even notice that his mouth had stopped working. He just kept your cock in the heat of his mouth, making no move to suck or lick. Like your personal cock warmer, saliva pooling on his tongue and eyes drooping shut in an attempt to deal with the intensity of your touch, he gave in to the sensations. It was a strange thought that didn't scare him, if Jake could pick his paradise then this would be it: rationality turned off with sweetness by your hands and mouth, body being used by you.

Jake's cock dripped nonstop, occasionally twitching where it was pressed between your and his bodies. His feet sank into the sheets, legs trying constantly to close, body continuing trying to curl and tighten in involuntary reactions.

Your fingers slid along the sensitive walls, just a little deeper, seeming to play with him; in, out, rubbing and pressing, until your fingers curled inside him, hitting his prostate and a moan died in Jake's throat.

His entire body was so hot Jake didn't even notice his cock spilling out. The orgasm came easy and smooth, coursing through him in gentle shock waves that had his hole clenching around your fingers so hard it felt like it wanted to suck on them. Moans echoed around your cock in his mouth, spittle running down his parted lips and then chin.

You gently rocked your fingers in and out of him, helping him ride out the orgasm, wet tongue sloppily licking the rim that clung to your digits. Jake clamped his lips around your cock, sucking weakly as small shock waves ran down his spine. His dick twitched again, spilling every last drop onto your chest, his balls squeezing tightly.

Then your fingers were gone, leaving him devastatingly empty. A whimper rose all the way up his throat.

“Shhh,” you shushed him. "Hush now, love."

Your firm hands moved up to his hips, moving him off of you with an ease that never failed to make Jake's mind short circuit. He loved it when you moved him. He went easily, mouth now empty, letting you lay him down on the bed, chest against the sheets, muscles relaxed and malleable under your power.

"I'm going to fuck you now, yes?"

Jake groaned, gripping the sheet between his fingers, eagerly spreading his legs for you.

He couldn't force himself to form coherent words and he didn't even need to, all that existed was the fat head of your cock wet with Jake's saliva pressed against the open, relaxed rim.

Then you sank inside him, with one thrust. Jake felt his muscles being stretched with a burning sensation that sizzled through his spine, your cock pushing its way in until it sits completely deep inside, your hips resting against his ass. The preparation hadn't been enough to rid him of the pain, you both knew that the burn of stretching always left Jake trembling, yearning for more.

“So tight for me, Jake,” you murmur, lips against the heated skin of his shoulder. "So good, so sweet, such a pretty whore."

Jake sobs at the praise, eyes falling closed as he surrenders to the overwhelm of being filled, the sensation almost too much, leaving him trembling beneath you, sweet hole quivering and twitching, sweat running down the back of his neck.

And you just stay there, weight steady against his lean back, rolling your hips against him without rushing, feeling Jake's hole opening and relaxing gently against the pressure, like he was made for this, like he was made for your cock and nothing else.

#x male reader #x top reader #x male top reader #x top male reader #lookism x y/n #lookism x male reader #lookism x reader #lookism smut #jake kim x male reader #jake kim x reader #kim gimyung x reader #kim gimyung x male reader #kim gimyeong #lookism fic

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venerawrites · 6 months

Note

thank you for feeding my Naruto brainrot 😫🫶🏻 for the prompt request: for your fav Naruto boys or girls, what are the non-negotiables (things they need to have) and the dealbreakers (will not tolerate) when they're in a relationship with their partner?

author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so I'm really sorry for the delay. I really liked that prompt and I do hope I did it justice. I have so many favs it was hard to pick, but ultimately I decided to pick Naruto, Neji, Sasuke and Shikamaru.

Naruto

➦ Non-negotiables

Calm and rational mind - as someone who is a ball full of energy and very easily influenced by his emotions, Naruto needs a partner who is stable and able to keep calm and collected under pressure. He has enough fire and passion within him for both him and his partner, so he would need a polar opposite in order to keep him balanced. He also lacks the ability to look at situations realistically, so a more rational partner would definitely help him do that.

Affectionate - this doesn't mean he wants someone who is clinging to his arm 24/7, but rather someone who is not afraid to show affection to him either in public or private. A partner that laces their fingers with his when they notice his knee shaking nervously or embraces them in a hug after a long stressful day, is what Naruto needs after being alone for so many years.

➦ Dealbreakers

Lack of ambitions or drive - Naruto has always been full of dreams and hope. He constantly seeks to grow, not only in his power but also as a person. If he is with a partner who lacks any ambition in life, he is bound to feel stagnate at some point and that is probably his biggest nightmare. He needs someone to calm and balance his hyperactive personality, but he won't be with someone who makes his whole life dull.

No sense of humour - this may not be a dealbreaker for many people, but for Naruto it certainly is. He has always been a goofball and loves a good joke, so I can't even imagine him being with someone, who won't at least crack a smile at his attempts to cheer them up. He doesn't want to be with someone who is overly pessimistic and negative.

Neji

➦ Non-negotiables

A strong moral compass - probably the least tolerant and forgiving of all of the guys on the list, Neji needs a partner that has strong morals and values. There are certain things that are completely unjustifiable in his eyes, like betraying the people you love or killing innocent people. No matter their background or religious/political view, their partner needs to have strong principles that they follow, regardless of external pressure. For him, this is also fundamental for raising your children right.

Commitment - Neji's ideal partner would need to be someone who will commit fully to him and their family (once they have one). I always imagined him with a civilian or someone who is an ex-ninja, because he knows it is not possible to juggle both an active ninja lifestyle and taking care of the house. Even he, at some point, would start doing fewer and fewer missions, spending time and training his children instead. He would absolutely expect the same from their partner.

➦ Dealbreakers

Not wanting family/children - Neji is a very traditional guy and as such, he does want to one day have a family and be a father. He would respect his partner's decision if they decide this is not the life for them, but that would ultimately lead to the end of their relationship. This is one thing he would not change his mind about, so he has to be with someone who is on the same page.

Lack of respect - in a way connected to the dealbreaker above, he won't be with someone who doesn't respect him, his family, or his values. Due to the way he was raised, he would naturally assume the role of provider and protector - his partner better be the more submissive half, the one who nurtures, rather than fights. If they cannot respect that dynamic, they better find a more open-minded partner than Neji.

Sasuke

➦ Non-negotiables

Confidence and courage - having quite a lot of issues himself, he needs a partner who has the confidence and the courage to stand up to him. Sasuke has the tendency to do whatever he thinks is right, without really taking into consideration how that affects others. He really needs someone who will be honest about their feelings and opinions, without fearing that they will somehow offend him. He will probably huff and puff, but he secretly appreciates it when their partner has the guts to put their foot down.

Bluntness - maybe connected in a way to what I typed above, but Sasuke needs someone who speaks bluntly to him. He is also the type of person to share his thoughts openly, so he expects the same from his partner. Additionally, he is not good at getting hints, so it's better for his lover to just say straightforwardly what is bothering them, rather than tip-toe around it.

➦ Dealbreakers

Lying - Sasuke cannot tolerate liars. He has been lied to quite a lot during his life and he suffers from major trust issues. If he catches his partner even in a lie, even about something insignificant, that would be the end of the relationship. If they lie about small, they will inevitably lie about something bigger as well. Sasuke had enough with people like that.

Clinginess - that man had enough of people clinging to him. Sasuke values his personal space and alone time and he won't like a partner, that is constantly on his back and wants to spend all their time together. Like everyone, he would need some moments of loving and he would subtly hint at their partner when they need attention/love, but he would somehow have to initiate it first.

Shikamaru

➦ Non-negotiables

Empathy - an ideal partner would be able to see other people's sides, and consider their feelings and motives. Shikamaru prides himself on being open-minded and good at reading people, so he expects his partner to be the same. He forgot a date or something minor because of how stressed he is at work? He wants his partner to be able to put themselves in his shoes and maybe cut him a little bit of slack.

Likes challenges/puzzles - as someone who is so smart, Shikamaru needs intellectual challenges to keep boredom away and also stimulate his brain. His partner either has to be brave enough to challenge him on topics they do not agree on or actively seek and help him with puzzling tasks, that he can't deal alone with. Either way, their partner has to be able to think outside the box and be able to counter Shikamaru's arguments.

➦ Dealbreakers

Anger issues - now I know that may be controversial, since in the anime he is with Temari, who can be pretty fiery... but personally I feel he is not the one to really tolerate someone who gets worked up easily, shouts, and throws tantrums. Life is too short to deal with someone who can't control their temper and he constantly feels like he has to walk on eggshells around them.

Pretending to be dumb - Shikamaru is naturally attracted to intelligence. Does it feel nice to be outsmarted or corrected by their own partner sometimes? Well, no, not really. But he definitely prefers that, rather than having a partner that pretends to be dumb, just so they can appear cute or for other people to like them better.

cc artwork: Houston Sharp

#naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #neji hyuga #shikamaru nara #naruto uzumaki x reader #sasuke x reader #neji x reader #shikamaru x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #naruto requests

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piscespetals · 11 days

Text

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. click here to view all parts.

content: gay pining, angst, thought spirals, fluff

word count: 4k

this is the final part. thank you so much for all your support! very sorry for the delay, I honestly had this sitting in my drafts on here for WEEKS y'all. this was supposed to have already been uploaded and silly me never logged back on to double check.

Chapter Five

When you wake, your muscles feel like jelly. You're hyper aware of the sheets underneath you—how warm they are. And how your duvet swaddles you just the right way…Your pillow smells good. Like coming home after a long day of work. Like Sevika.

Suddenly, there's movement behind you.

And that's when you realize it's her breath. It tickles the back of your neck, stutters momentarily while she shifts, then resumes. A chill runs down the slope of your back as you feel pressure around your waist, which happens to be her arm. She pulls you closer to her as if she's afraid of you getting up right then.

“Sev?”

But there's no answer. The only sound that echoes is a soft snore and grinding teeth.

You bite back a smile while your muscles relax, and you lean into the inviting embrace of the woman behind you.

“You’re staring,” Sevika mutters. Her eyes remain downcast as she dries off a freshly washed knife. You admire how strong she looks in that moment; how she’s handling such a thing with the utmost care.

Sevika standing there with a sparkling knife shouldn’t be an image that you welcome. Yet you do.

“Am I?” You mutter. Your lips barely part as you get lost at the sight of the woman before you.

She peers at you under the lids of her lashes, eyebrows raising with sparkling pools of grey.

“I don’t mind it.” She says quietly, almost sweetly. Her gaze readjusts quickly back to the task at hand–the knife–despite it already being completely dry. “I never do.”

Your eyes follow her slow and careful movements, towel in her right hand and utensil in her left. Your heart flutters.

Softly, you smile and manage only then to look away.

Alicia bends over, hand gripping the porch handrail as a tear trickles down her face. She’s laughing, which you usually don’t mind, but this time it’s at your expense.

“It’s not that funny,” You mumble, which only makes her laugh harder.

“Hun, it’s known to all of mankind,” Mel chimes in. “That you’re quite dramatic.”

“Am not!”

Another round of guffaws.

That’s when you glance towards Sevika, who’s relaxing in a rocking chair across from you. She somehow thought that today was the perfect day to tell Alicia and Mel about your waxing incident a few weeks back. Maybe you should find some sort of humor in it; after all, it turned out fine after an application of aloe vera.

But still.

It was embarrassing.

“What about the night I told you that I’d be moving in with Alicia?” Mel’s eyes shine from the distant memory. “You were hysterical.”

“Okay, now you’re overexaggerating.”

“Remember when you said that me moving out was the beginning of your end? That you were doomed to grow old and die alone in a nursing home–”

“Mel.”

“While Alicia and I had to explain to our kids what happened to their Aunt-”

“It was a rational fear.”

At this point, Alicia is struggling to breathe. She grips the sides of her ribs, eyes squinted shut and jaw slack from silent laughter. She crouches down to the floor, hands stabilizing themselves on the arm of Sevika’s rocking chair. You notice Sevika’s amusement seconds later; how she coughs fakely into her inner elbow while her forehead crinkles. Mel giggles when you playfully shove her.

“I hate you guys.”

For a split second, you peer at Sevika to find that she’s already regarding you. Her pupils are dilated and her full lips have stretched into a lazy grin. Her cupid’s bow looks exceptionally prominent, reminding you of how warm her mouth felt when pressed against you this morning.

She winks and manages to pull you from the memory.

Mel rolls her eyes, sending you a cheesy grin. “You love us.”

You open your mouth to object, but nothing comes out. You can’t fight it. Because Mel is right.

You do.

When you wake up, the first detail that you can pinpoint is the smell of something warm and sophisticated. Your eyes flutter.

“Careful.” The murmur is low. Gentle. Sevika. “You’ll wake her.”

“Sorry,” The distinct lilt of Mel’s voice. “Do you need help getting her into the car?”

Shifting, “No, it’s okay.”

Then there’s movement. Is it you? Is it Sevika? You’re too drowsy to be able to fully tell. You try to open your eyes, but the pull is too enticing.

“Thank you for always looking after her…” Mel’s voice draws closer. There’s the warmth of another body now, and a gust of Mel’s signature fruity perfume. You struggle to register the feeling of being smothered by two people. Is Sevika carrying you? “She may never tell you, but she appreciates you so much.”

Mel pulls away, squeezing your arms briefly. When you try to open your eyes, your vision can only make out the edge of a jawline that curves into a neck. Sevika’s neck.

Arms hold you with a strength you hadn’t thought possible. Fingers press into your skin when you shift your weight–or try to.

“We’ll be home soon,” Sevika says. Her voice has dipped down to an incredibly low volume, much closer to your ear than before. Her skin–at least, that’s what you think it is–brushes against your cheek for a few seconds. Lingering there before disappearing again. “Just rest.”

If you were fully awake, you’d probably be absolutely embarrassed by the thought of Sevika carrying you to the car. You must have fallen asleep after dinner, since your last memory is sitting around the fireplace with Sevika, Alicia and Mel.

But you’re too tired to feel embarrassed.

And you’re too comfortable.

There’s a hand that touches your shoulder, a gentle caress before it pulls away and then, “She looks exhausted,” Mel whispers.

Sevika hums. The voices begin to drift away again. You catch the end of a sentence, very specifically the words, “...Haven’t told her yet,” before you succumb to a restful sleep.

It’s only when your neck is sore from being craned, forehead resting against the cool glass of the passenger window, when your eyes flutter open. You see flashing lights and blurred buildings, and for a second, you're incredibly disoriented as you try to register the passing world. But then there's a hand that rests on your thigh, the slight caress from a thumb, before you're being gently squeezed.

“Almost home,” Sevika mutters.

You blink slowly and gaze at her side profile. There’s certain parts of her that are beautifully accentuated in the dark of the night. Her grey eyes glow as they shift from streetlights to traffic, always alert and ever-watchful. Her full lips move discreetly as she hums along to the car radio. There's something sweet that settles in your mouth then, a new flavor that you're not quite used to. After walking around the world with a bitter-aftertaste for so long, you almost convince yourself that anything else is wrong. But you know, deep down, it’s completely the opposite.

This couldn't be anymore right.

You're at a red light now and Sevika does not hesitate to flick through the radio channels, frowning in distaste at some of the songs. Your heart dances at the sight.

“Thank you,” You find yourself saying.

Her gaze remains on the radio and she allows the silence to be enveloped by a commercial before she replies. “For what?”

“Being you. And lovi–” You swallow thickly. “...caring for me.”

You can tell that melts through to her. Your words have found a way to pierce that shell of nonchalance she always carries. Her lashes flutter and you swear you hear the slightest hitch of her breath.

But then the light turns green, the car jolts forward and she glances back towards the road.

The moment passes and so does the rest of your courage.

You can’t seem to find your courage around Sevika anymore.

The next morning, you wake to the smell of bacon lingering in the air. A cloud of fatigue hangs over you whilst you make yourself presentable. Even after splashing ice cold water on your face–and brushing your teeth twice–you barely manage to keep your eyes open when you approach the kitchen.

Sevika stands at the island, dressed in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants. A few strands of hair sweep the sharp lines of her jaw as her gaze remains on the task in front of her. With deep concentration, she slices through a strawberry. Several pieces of said fruit sit in a bowl to her left.

It’s ridiculous that the mere sight of her is enough to wake up every atom in your body. Within seconds, your drowsiness has dissipated, and you stand before her with your teeth working into your bottom lip.

Her head snaps up upon your arrival, grey eyes alert before softening (a telltale sign that she was deep in thought) when they land on you.

“Strawberries?” Is all that you can say.

Her eyebrows fret together–lips parting, “They’re your favorite right?” She appraises your forehead, then your nose, before returning back to your eyes. “Or do you not like them anymore?”

She remembers.

Your ears ring and for a split second, you’re convinced you’ll become a puddle on the floor.

Behind her, on the opposing countertop, sits a platter of bacon and prepared scrambled eggs.

It’s a simple gesture–but the emotions that said gesture ignites feel dangerous. Scary. All encompassing.

Lines of worry etch themself onto Sevika’s forehead as you struggle to respond.

You want to tell her. You need to tell her.

But how?

Is it not too soon? Will it scare her away?

To jump or not to jump is the true question that you find yourself wanting to answer. How do people take the plunge? Put their hearts on the line with a possibility of it being crushed?

“Is this too much?” She asks, voice much quieter now.

If you look close enough, you’d almost believe that there was a cloud of desperation swirling in Sevika’s grey irises. Your head shakes slightly as you try to recenter yourself.

There it is again–that ear ringing sensation that makes you want to jump into her arms while simultaneously collapsing onto the ground. The pull towards her–the one that’s always there–no matter how many times you try to wish it away.

You shake your head, only managing to croak, “I love strawberries,” with a pounding heart.

I love you.

“It’s not too much,” You add.

You could never be too much.

Sevika doesn’t move–doesn’t blink. Barely breathes.

Your lips part and she watches you with a patience that’s warm enough to console you even during the coldest winters. She’s waiting for you to say something more.

But you can’t.

You fucking can’t.

“Come here,” Her command is nothing more than a whisper.

Your mouth goes dry when you watch her set the knife back down on the chopping board. She side-steps, strawberries long forgotten, as her hands stretch for you.

It doesn’t take much effort for you to close the distance. Despite your tongue being tied, and despite that god-awful lump in the back of your throat, your body doesn’t hesitate in following her. It never will.

Her hands, as tender as they can be, cup the apple of your cheeks. “Are you sure this is okay?” Her breath fans your skin, nose nearly inches from yours as her head bows to meet your gaze head-on.

You nod, boneless and vulnerable.

“This is okay,” Is pretty much all that you can manage to respond. “More than okay.”

And that seems to be enough for her. Her shoulders relax and she dips down to meet you with a kiss.

You can feel the beads of perspiration dripping down the nape of your neck. Your chest heaves up and down as you step into the lobby, eyes immediately landing on two receptionists sitting at the front desk.

One of them sports auburn ringlets and hazel eyes. Small rectangular frames sit on the edge of her nose, and she’s dressed in all black with a large scale spider tattooed onto the front of her neck.

Two people sit in the lobby chairs positioned against one of the walls. One of them is deeply attuned to their smartphone. The other is asleep.

The receptionist with the spider tattoo, follows your movements with acute focus. You shoot her a lazy smile, slightly dazed from rushing two blocks and also stressed about the time.

Your eyes dart to the watch on your left wrist as you reach the receptionist desk.

4:17 PM.

You’re late.

“Hi,” You breathe, before taking a long gulp of water. Your purse is barely hanging off of your shoulder, chest heaving up and down as you struggle to breathe while simultaneously inhaling half of the contents in your hydroflask.

The woman stares at you tepidly, the corner of her mouth twitching as she blinks. That’s when you notice how striking her hazel eyes are, which happen to be coated with a thick layer of black eyeliner and mascara. Her name reads:

Sage

She/her

Sage’s coworker, a muscular brunette with a buzzcut and two industrial piercings, finally glances up from their book. Their name tag, much more shinier than Sage’s, reads:

Mav

He/him

Mav is friendlier, greeting you with a wide grin. Wrinkles appear around his eyes when he does so. “Hey! Are you here for an appointment?”

Your eyes dart to Sage, who is still appraising you with a harsh stare. She plays with the lanyard around her neck as her head slightly tilts.

You shift your weight nervously, “I’m actually visiting Sevika. Um,” You redirect your gaze back to Mav. “She’s my…” A heatwave flashes through you as you try to form a comprehensible sentence. “I’m uh, like, her…” God. This is awkward. “I was originally supposed to be here at 3:45? I don’t know if she told you. Um-”

“Oh!” A hint of recognition flashes across Mav’s face. His smile widens and his gaze travels to every detail of your face. “You're Sev’s girl? It’s nice to finally meet you! I swear to God, it’s been ages of us asking,” Mav pauses, glancing over to Sage for reassurance. “...About when we would finally see you. We were beginning to think that Sev has just been lying all this time. Or that the whole love triangle thing between you, her and Monica was just a big story she made up t-Ow!”

It almost looks as if Sage kicks Mav. Mav winces, reaching underneath the desk to check on–what you assume to be–his leg. His eyes narrow as he sends a side-long glare in Sage’s direction, but the deadpan woman ignores him.

Instead, Sage glances at you, humor dancing in the swirls of her hazel irises as she stands to her feet. “I'll let Sevika know you're here,” She murmurs.

“Thanks. I texted her a few times but she hasn't responded so I figured she’s probably busy with,” You clear your throat. “Tattooing and… stuff.”

One of Sage’s eyebrows quirk up in amusement. She doesn't say anything more, turning on her heels and rounding the corner that leads to another room. When you return your gaze back to Mav, he’s already nose-deep into his novel; your presence long forgotten.

A few minutes later, you hear footfalls echoing from the hallway. It sounds like multiple, which causes your shoulders to tense and back to straighten. Subconsciously, you wipe your palms against the denim of your jeans. A worn pair of black boots rounds the corner, clunking against the marble floors. Your eyes travel up the fitted dark-washed jeans and stop on Sevika’s exposed shoulders—thanks to her sleeves being cut off.

You aren’t able to get much ogling done before she speaks.

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it,” Her voice is low. A bit strained but laced with an undertone of satisfaction. Sage quietly trails behind, eyeing the two of you before sitting back down in her seat.

You aren’t quite sure how to greet Sevika; at least, not in public like this. Especially since you’re at her workplace. Surely, kissing would be inappropriate?

Thankfully, she doesn’t give you a chance to truly decide. Instead, her arm drapes over your shoulders as she pulls you into her side–a half hug, to your surprise–while something warm presses against your temple.

Her lips.

The kiss is too fleeting for you to register it at that moment. It’s only when she pulls away, squeezing your left shoulder and urging you to walk with her when the gesture dawns on you.

“Are you hungry?” Her lips brush against your right ear, voice low. “I ordered food. It got here a while ago though so we’ll most likely have to microwave it.”

Your skin is warm. Every inch of it.

Blinking through a daze, your head tilts in her direction as you nod. “That's fine with me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you still feel the heavy stare of Sage. You wait until you’re further away and out of sight from the receptionist desk when you add, “The woman…Sage? She’s kind of, uh, intense don't you think?”

Sevika doesn't necessarily laugh at your statement but her lips do stretch into a small grin as she exhales shakily. “Yeah, she is. Mostly nosy, is all. And she’s not really a people person—her apprenticeship starts here soon though. She’s one hell of an artist. So we’re keeping her at the front until then.”

You hum at the thought, Sage quickly fading from your brain as Sevika’s arm drops from your shoulders. Instead, you feel a loose grip around your waist–her fingers rest around the curve of your hip and gently urge you to move closer to her. The pair of you have long passed the piercing and tattoo stations, nearing the tail end of the building where a staircase leads to a second floor. Silently, she gestures for you to begin climbing.

Your eyebrows raise and you glance at her, “Up?” You ask, not bothering to mask your surprise. Your index finger motions towards the second floor.

“Where else?” She gives you a quizzical stare.

You suppose it was a bit silly to think that the pair of you would be anywhere else. It’s not like it’s sanitary or professional to be lounging around the tattoo stations, especially if you’re eating food soon.

It was early this morning when Sevika proposed the idea of having a meal together. She mentioned that it could be at her job, since you haven’t seen the inside of her building (and it’s also geographically convenient since her tattoo shop is closer to home than your office).

The moment you heard the words food and tattoo shop, you immediately said yes. Spending more time together has especially been on your mind lately (and you’ve always had a nagging desire to see this side of her).

However, you hadn’t actually thought through the logistics of the plan. Not until now.

“Will it be too taxing for you? I’m sorry–I didn’t even realize–” She points in the direction you just came from. “...The elevators are in the lobby. We can walk back if you want. Are you hurting badly?”

What?

Oh.

The car accident.

You were sore from time to time, but not as bad as before. Quickly, you grab her hand and begin to climb the stairs. “No, actually–” You struggle to hide your smile. “...I’m okay with taking the stairs.”

You lead the way, with the help of a few directions from her.

Sevika’s office is heavily decorated with all things that describe her. Hundreds of sketches are pinned to a wall while three signed basketball jerseys are hung up on another. There's an incense burning, per usual, when the pair of you walk into the room. A window is slightly propped open and gives you a perfect view of the city. Art clippings and photographs are sprawled across the desk, and a tall lamp is positioned in the corner of the room. To your right is a couch, with a folded blanket and what looks like-

Your head whips back at her. “Chinese takeout?”

Sevika still stands by the door threshold, balancing her weight against it as she rests her hands in her pockets. “Your favorite.” A small smile falls upon her lips.

You don’t know what to say. Thankfully, she continues talking. “I don’t have a TV though. So we’ll have to do without one of your romcoms.” She motions her head behind you. “I hope the window is enough entertainment.”

You laugh and make your way towards the couch. “This is perfect.”

Today is perfect.

She is perfect.

But the feelings are too powerful for you to allow yourself to linger on them. Instead, you make a beeline for the couch, opening up the takeout bag and retrieving one of the containers. You’re well aware of Sevika’s presence–the waft of her cologne and muted thuds of her boots. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her grab the takeout bag, sitting down in place of it before placing the bag on a coffee table that's a foot away.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, mouth full of egg fried rice and skin buzzing. If you were to scoot father right, your leg would press against hers.

But you don’t.

A few beats pass before, “Is everything okay?” She mutters. Her voice is low.

That’s when you force your head to lift, meeting her eyes for a fews seconds. She remains calm. Steady. Her expression is clear–gaze never leaving you.

“You’ve been distant for a little while now,” She pauses, lips parting. You can tell she’s thinking deeply about what to say and how to say it. “...For the last week or so. And I just want to make sure it’s not because of anything I’ve done or–”

“No.” Your eyes are widening. “You haven’t done anything at all. You’ve been good to me, Sev.” Blinking rapidly, you refocus back on the food in front of you. “I have no complaints. I’m happy with you.”

Hesitation. Then, “Are you sure?”

And when you catch wind of her face again, you notice that she’s sporting an expression of genuine curiosity. A hint of quiet longing also seems to be staring back at you, and it’s apparent that she's truly–completely–surprised. Have you not been obvious about how much you care for her? Is there really a chance that she thinks differently?

A wave of courage greets you and you decide, right then, that you have to stop denying yourself.

You deserve to take a hold of this–to firmly grasp this time with her–no matter how badly you want to listen to the fear that is nagging in the back of your mind.

You deserve to let yourself fully enjoy this–to fully enjoy her.

And she deserves that too.

“I love you,” You say it as faithfully as you can, because damned if you don’t surely sounds worse than damned if you do. Your hands are shaking, but you don’t allow yourself to think twice because you’ve already said it. You can’t take it back. “God, I love you.” It’s becoming harder to see her. Your line of vision is blurry and your throat hurts. “Sorry I-” You swallow deeply. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, or even if I should. I don’t want to scare you off. I know it’s soon and we’re still trying to figure this out but…” You’re at a loss for words, shrugging as you try to contemplate what else to say.

She grabs your hands, tugging you towards her.

“I…” The sound of her exhaling softly is all you can hear. She tries to speak again, “You…” But her voice trails off again.

“I know you’ve expressed to me how you feel and I know this is a lot considering your divorce, then Monica and now me. I want to be with you and I want to give you everything I can, even if that includes taking things slow.” You wet your lips and that’s when you taste tears. You’re crying. “Whatever you need...I’ll be that. I don’t mind. I’ve just been trying to process it all. How I feel for you–it only seems to grow stronger each day. My love for you…” You shake your head, trying to recollect yourself. “...Becoming distant…Making you worry–that wasn’t what I intended.”

She lets go of your hands. Air leaves your lungs when you feel her coming closer…closer…closer. Her mouth is hot, pressing against yours without any hesitation. That feeling alone makes your muscles turn to mush. But then she deepens it, leaning further into you as if none of this is enough. The urgency she exudes, combined with the swiftness of her tongue, makes you feel as if you’re running out of time….like kissing you is the most dire thing she could be doing right now.

She wraps her arms around you completely and you allow your body to relax.

All you can think about is her. Her lips and her taste and her smell and her hair.

All you can think about is how much you loved her when you were inside of her last night, and how much you loved her when her arms were wrapped around you this morning. How much you loved her even when the two of you bickered over the broken tea kettle last week, and how much you still love her right now.

And that love, you're completely sure, will just keep growing and growing and growing…

You need her, in every aspect. You believe that you’ll always need her.

The tip of her nose brushes your cheek, then grazes against it when she tilts her head in the opposite direction. You feel yourself arching when her hands slide to the small of your back. Your fingers dig into her hair and tug at her scalp. Her quiet hum of satisfaction falls directly into your mouth, chest pressed against yours, body sliding in between your legs.

The salt of your tears fall onto your tongue, but she doesn't seem to mind. When she pulls away, gasping for air, her arms tighten around you even more. Her lips are swollen, eyes misting over as they stare back at you, and forehead merely inches from yours, “Don't you get it?” She whispers. “I'm yours,” Her voice strains with desperation. “You could never scare me away by telling me this. Ever.”

“And if it isn’t obvious already,” She adds, nose brushing against your cheek. She leaves a trail of her burning touch as she inhales deeply; breathing you in. Your eyes flutter shut and the feeling of her lips pressing against your neck causes your breath to hitch. “I love,” And she pulls away to kiss your other side, “Love,” You shiver when she practically drags her face against yours before halting your anticipation with a tender peck against your lips. “...Love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

And you’re kissing her again, still needing more, but this time allowing yourself to have it. At this point, you’re pretty sure cartoon birds are circling above your head. You’ve never felt so blissed out and completely flustered at the same time. This moment is full of mirth, and promises, and undeniable love.

This is what it means to be alive.

Sevika is smiling now, laughing when you press into her for more, more, more. You’ll always want more of her and more of everything with her.

“Take me home?” You whisper.

She’s laughing again, eyes misting over, but doesn't miss a beat standing up.

She understands. She feels it too.

Grabbing your hand, she manages to collect the food and her keys in one sweep. “Okay,” She answers, seemingly happy to grant you such a wish.

With your chest aching something fierce, you follow her without question.

You love her.

And she loves you back.

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and spend your morning eating toast and drinking tea, loving each other just the same.

There’ll be days where you two will hang photos that haven’t been taken yet, loving each other just the same.

You’ll spend more dinners together, more holidays, and weekends and years–loving each other just the same.

Your new life, the one you have been so afraid to accept ever since Mel moved out, is waiting for you with the door wide open.

Now is when you decide to take the leap forward, hand in hand with Sevika; promising yourself that you’ll never look back.

#au writing #piscespetals writing #sevika x reader #fanfic #sevika #arcane au #arcane netflix #fluff #i have a ton of drabbles of these two from outside of this mini series timeline that i want to upload #bye to roommate!sevika for now!#i really want to write a few sevika fics in the arcane universe for a while #au writing is extremely difficult sometimes

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blxckmassbaby · 8 months

Text

Campus Tour(sequel to Back to School)

Pairings: LSU Joe Burrow x Black! Fem Reader

Warnings:Smut (MINORS DO NOT READ)

Synopsis: Joe shows you around the football facility…and more.

A/N: Sorry for the fic delay! as always let me know what you think and sorry for any mistakes <3

Read back to school here<3

Even though you were a senior,it still seemed like you hadn’t seen everything on campus. Luckily for you,messing around with Joe gave you more than just good dick,he took you to places around campus you hadn’t seen before,like only areas the football team could access.

“Let’s go in the locker room.” Joe says.

“What? You know damn well Im not supposed to be in there.” You laughed.

“Technically you’re not supposed to be anywhere in here unless you’re a trainer or one of those equipment girls. But you got me with you so you dont have to worry babe.” He reassures you,taking your hand and walking you through the halls of the football facility.

“So this is where my tuition money is going?” You sarcastically scoffed to yourself.Everything was beautiful though,so many awards and pictures of players from previous rosters that were drafted to the pros, hell even the offices were nice.

After walking for what felt like forever you finally reached locker room. Surprisingly,someone left the doors unlocked the last time the team was there,so that left you and Joe with nothing but a empty locker room and endless possibilities.

“Maybe we could get you some recruitment pictures in here,babe.” Joe laughed. You cracked up at the thought of how ridiculous you’d look in an oversized ass helmet and pad’s.

You explored around the locker room a little more and eventually found Joe’s locker. “You can go through my stuff if you want. He says,and of course you obliged. You always wondered what kind of stuff he kept in it.

There was a spare dorm key,a busted pair of cleats,and a hoodie that had something sticking out of the pocket. You pulled on it and your face immediately became hot when you realized what it was. It was a special polaroid you had taken for Joe a while ago.

“Oh my god,what the fuck,Joe you were supposed to keep this in your wallet,dumbass.” You blushed. All he did was give you that stupid ass grin he always did as if you were being overdramatic (and you totally were). “I can’t have a little pregame motivation,baby?” Joe queried,clearly not taking you serious.

“Fuck you,Joe.” You cackled.

“Fuck me? How’d you know what I wanted you to do?” He grinned again,standing over where you were sitting,looking directly down at you,giving you that look that indicated what he wanted. “I swear to god,Joe we’re not doing it in here. Aint no way in hell.”

“Who says we can’t hm? I see that look in your eyes I know you wanna try it. And If you don’t like it,I can always take you home,throw you on the bed and beat that pussy up like I always do.”

Dammit he was too good. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together from the way he spoke to you. You jumped up from your seat and took his hand once more,following behind him to a different corner of the locker room. “Turn around. Hands up against the wall.” He demanded.

You feel him move behind you,quickly sliding down your leggings. “Can’t ever get enough of this pretty ass. Fuck ,baby.” Joe muttered slapping your ass,admiring the way it jiggled when he did so. ”I’m gonna pull these fuckin’ panties to the side,fuck you until you can barely hold yourself up,and I’m gonna take you home and do it all fucking over.You got me?” Joe pushes himself up against you whispering in your ear.

You resist the urge to push back because you know the inevitable is coming,all you have to do is wait. As you feel the neediness become unbearable,you feel one side of your panties being peeled back before the sound of Joe sliding his tip up and down your already wet slit spears through the silence of the locker room.

“You knew you were gonna get fucked today didn’t you? You’re so wet and I barely even touched you. Hope that pussy can cum just as quick as it can get wet or we’ll be in trouble,babygirl.” Joe says finally pushing his dick into you. You groaned at the stretch. Right off the bat his pace was relentless,barely giving you time to adjust to this new position you never tried. You moaned out loud,already so lost in the pleasure you forgot where you were.You can hear Joe shushing you whilst trying to contain his own sounds,but you just couldn’t stop your sounds of pleasure escaping from your soft lips.

“Hey,If you don’t quiet down I’ll pull out,you understand me?” Joe warned giving your ass another hard slap. And you’re so depraved,so scared of him pulling out and leaving you empty,you place a hand over your own mouth,using the other hand that’s still on the wall to brace however you can. Just so he can keep pounding into that sweet spot for as long as he pleases.

Even with your hand over your mouth,you can still manage to tell Joe your orgasm is beginning to creep up on you. He laughs at your struggle,watching you continue to take him as your ass claps against him while you pathetically attempt to quiet yourself. “You close mama? You better hurry up and cum before someone finds us.” You dont even know why,but your pussy clenched even tighter from what he had said. Was it the thrill of having to get yourself off in a short amount of time? Or was it the thought of being caught that excited you?

Whatever it was,your orgasm was imminently approaching,and you & Joe could feel it. “Thats it,there you fucking go. Cum all over it like the slut you are,babydoll. Daddy’s got you.” And you did. Cumming so hard your body uncontrollably trembled as it took the warm load Joe soon pumped into you,releasing with so much desperation he almost let out a whimper.

“Fuck—where were you when I was choosing schools? If you were giving out these kind of tours I would’ve applied way sooner.” You weakly chuckled.

“I told you you’d like it. Now lets go back to my place,Im not done with you yet.Joe growls,leading you back down the hall towards the exit.

#joe burrow smut #nfl smut #joe burrow #football smut #joe burrow x you #joe burrow imagine #nfl fan fic

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ginnsbaker · 1 year

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (14/22)

Chapter summary: Vision sends you a demand letter for physical assault; Yelena makes a discovery that could shake the delicate foundations of your newfound 'friendship' with Wanda.

Chapter word count: 5.6k | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: Enjoy? :)

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Fifteen

Fourteen

The demand letter sits in front of you, openly mocking you with its mere existence. It arrived at the most unanticipated time, suspiciously just a few days after your birthday. It is drafted by one of the most sought-after law firms in New York and co-signed by one Victor Shade, but you doubt that he had any hand in composing it.

You've read it at least a dozen times now, its words wasting no time diving into the heart of the matter, “On January 4th, 2022 I suffered severe and critical injuries, when the actions of your insured, Ms. Y/N L/N…”

Deep down, you think you’ve been expecting this. The way Vision looked at Wanda the last time you saw them hinted at his lingering feelings. You knew he would do something to ease Wanda's rejection of him, and now he wants a specific amount as compensation: "Total Damages - $831,615.60."

With steady breaths, you carefully fold the letter back into its envelope.

You wonder if Wanda knows about this. Clearly, whatever she and Vision previously agreed on to delay this matter has now unraveled. And if that’s the case, you want to make sure that Wanda stays out of this, and that her ties to Vision are permanently severed.

As you’re pondering the financial repercussions should you opt to settle, and the added frustration of Natasha not returning any of your calls, your office phone rings, startling you.

"Yes?" you answer when your assistant speaks.

"Sorry to bother you, but Ms. Yelena Romanoff is here to see you," your assistant tells you.

"Send her in, Martin. Thanks." you say and hang up, hurriedly clearing your desk, thoughtlessly placing the letter on top of the pile of documents you need to burn through for today.

A few moments pass, and then Yelena appears at the doorway of your office, wearing a bright smile that matches her vibrant pink lipstick. Coyly, she taps on the door, even though it's already slightly ajar. She's dressed in tight, ripped jeans, paired with knee-high boots and a vibrant red jacket–easily a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey, baby, you busy?” she asks sort of mischievously.

You shake your head, grinning “Not for you.”

"Good," she replies, stepping into the room and locking the door behind her. You begin to rise from your seat, but she stops you with a hand. Making her way around your desk, she forcefully pushes you back into your executive chair.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, entranced, and watch as she straddles your thighs.

"Assaulting my girlfriend," she murmurs with a wink, her choice of words momentarily freezing you in place. But as her lips find their way to your neck, any further thoughts dissipate, distracting you from everything else in that electrifying moment. Your hands rest innocently on her hips, massaging her gently as her hips start a slow, gentle rhythm. Tilting your head back, you surrender to her fervor as she traces the length of your throat with her nose, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the way.

Yelena's jacket slips from her shoulders, cascading to the floor, revealing a thin turtleneck that clings to her form. With haste, you lift it up, exposing her flushed chest that’s heaving with her every breath. But before you can bury your face into her soft mounds, the phone rings again, prompting your girlfriend to get off your lap.

You let out a frustrated curse under your breath, while Yelena giggled, amused at your striking annoyance.

"What is it, Martin?" you answer as calmly as you could while trying to get the image of Yelena’s breast out of your head.

"Mr. Stark is calling in the managers for an emergency meeting," Martin informs you.

That completely diverts your attention away from a half-naked Yelena panting on your desk.

“He’s here?”

"Yes, ma'am," Martin confirms.

"Uh, okay. Give me two minutes," you say, ending the call.

Having overheard the conversation, Yelena quickly retrieves some tissues and proceeds to gently wipe away the lipstick stains she had left on your neck. “Shit, sorry, babe.”

"Don't worry about it," you stammer, still finding it difficult to concentrate amidst your lingering arousal.

“Yeah,” Yelena smiles knowingly. “Maybe another time, then.”

"Would it be more practical if I put that in my calendar?" you suggest, half-jokingly.

Yelena scrunches her nose at the idea of scheduling sex. “Where's the fun in that?” she retorts.

"You're right. I’m a fussy nerd, I know," you admit with a chuckle.

"A sexy nerd," Yelena corrects, planting a full kiss on your lips. "Now, go get 'em, tiger."

She playfully nudges you towards the door, urging you to make your way to the meeting. As you straighten the creases on your skirt, you quickly reassure her, “I'll be back in a few, okay?” There's a hint of worry in your voice, as if you fear she might leave without your knowledge.

Yelena's eyes meet yours, and she gives you a reassuring smile. “I'll be here,” she promises.

As soon as you leave the room, Yelena retrieves her jacket from the floor and tidies her appearance. In an instant, she transforms into the journalist persona that she hasn’t allowed you to see. She had visited you for another purpose today, and the unexpected opportunity that presented itself left her both surprised and eager to fulfill her intentions.

Call it an instinct or a persistent gut feeling, but Yelena had been on edge since your birthday. A sense of unease had settled within her, accompanied by an unexplained nagging sensation that there’s something she needed to uncover. It feels as though you’ve been keeping a secret from her for quite some time.

Carefully, she rummages through your drawer, cautious to leave things as they are. And then, out of the corner of her eye, something catches her attention—an envelope. It doesn’t look like it belongs there, on top of documents and folders that have the stamp of Stark Industries in them. No, this envelope bears the distinct markings of an infamous law firm. And clearly, you’ve read whatever is inside, considering the gaping tear on the side of the envelope.

With steady hands, she retrieves the envelope, her movements purposeful and precise. Carefully unfolding the letter, her eyes swiftly scan its contents, absorbing the information with speed and accuracy. She knows that time is of the essence, aware that you could return at any moment, leaving her with limited opportunity to delve into its contents.

Yelena slips the letter back in its envelope and returns it to its original position, making sure to arrange it exactly as she found it. Were you going to tell her about this? Would you have asked for her help or her input as your partner? Or would you just go through the tides without her ever knowing?

Her intuition had been spot-on; there was indeed something to uncover, and it was undeniably connected to your ex-wife.

She promised you she’d be waiting, but if she wants to help you out of your situation, she better get going.

***

Later that same day, Wanda stands behind the sleek espresso machine, a confident smile on her face as she prepares to demonstrate to Peter a coffee technique known as "pour-over brewing". The café is relatively quiet, with only a few customers lingering over their cups of coffee. Valkyrie left just a while ago after enjoying her usual brew. Before leaving, she had presented Wanda with a thoughtful gift—a bag of exotic coffee beans collected during her recent business trip to Cape Town. Valkyrie had hoped to impress Wanda not only with the beans themselves but also by showcasing herself as a renowned photographer. Eager to try them, Wanda saw this as the perfect opportunity to share one of her favorite brewing techniques with Peter.

As Wanda expertly pours hot water over the meticulously arranged coffee grounds, she explains the process. "Pour-over brewing allows us to extract the full flavor from the coffee grounds. It's all about precision and patience. The water must be heated to the right temperature, and the pouring technique should be slow and steady. It results in a clean and nuanced cup of coffee."

Crouching down to bring himself to eye level with the coffee, Peter’s concentration deepens as he poses a question: "So, how can you tell when it's ready?"

“Generally, it takes around two to three minutes for the water to pass through the coffee bed, depending on the desired strength and flavor profile."

Wanda leans in, pointing out the subtleties of the process. “As you observe the flow of water, pay attention to the color and consistency. The water should form a gentle, controlled stream, evenly saturating the grounds. If it rushes too quickly or seems to pool in one spot, it may be a sign to adjust your pouring technique.”

“Additionally,” Wanda continues, “Watch for the final stages of the pour-over. As the water nears the end of its journey, the drips become slower and more intermittent. This gradual decrease signifies that the process is almost complete.”

With a smile, Peter watches as the coffee brewing process unfolds before his eyes, precisely as Wanda had described. As the last drops fall into the waiting cups, Wanda proceeds to pour the freshly brewed coffee, dividing it between two cups—one for herself and one for Peter to try.

“For the rest of the week, you’ll be covering all the coffee orders, alright?” Wanda says.

Peter nods eagerly in excitement.

Just as Wanda is about to bring the cup to her lips, the cheerful chime of the café's entrance sounds. Her eyes widen in surprise as she catches sight of the least expected person to walk through the doors of her coffee shop.

Yelena.

Confusion immediately clouds Wanda's face, but before she can react, Peter takes the initiative to greet their customer. Yelena responds with a faint smile as she approaches the counter, drawing closer to Wanda until they’re standing face to face, finding themselves in a similar situation just a few weeks prior.

“One cup of coffee, please,” Yelena orders meekly, pulling a twenty-dollar bill off her purse.

“Coming right up,” Peter promptly replies, ready to assist, but Wanda interjects.

“I'll get this, Peter. Why don't you attend to the stock for now?” Wanda suggests.

“Certainly, Ms. Max–Wanda,” Peter says and scurries off to the back room, giving the two some space.

Wanda's smile brims with gratitude as Peter leaves, granting them a moment of privacy. She then shifts her undivided attention to Yelena, whose growing discomfort doesn't go unnoticed, stoking Wanda’s own anxiety about the purpose of her visit.

Pushing aside her inner reservations, Wanda adopts a professional demeanor, masking her own concerns. From this point onward, it’s all business.

"Specifically, what coffee would you like?" she asks.

Yelena shrugs. "Anything, really."

Wanda chuckles softly, appreciating Yelena's laid-back approach. "Alright, then. Would you prefer it hot or iced?"

Yelena raises an eyebrow. "Who drinks cold coffee?"

Wanda's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Actually, many people do. But I have something special for you. I just brewed some off-the-menu grounds from Cape Town. Would you like to try that?"

“Sure. How much?”

Waving her hand dismissively, she insists, “On the house. It's a gift from a friend anyway.”

It’s met with a quiet nod from Yelena, who slips the twenty dollar bill into the tip jar as a token of appreciation.

“How about something to eat?” Wanda asks.

“I’m good,” Yelena politely declines, shaking her head.

However, the next words that escape Yelena's mouth are anything but polite, catching Wanda off guard.

“Are you trying to get her back?”

Wanda almost drops the cup she was in the midst of placing on a tray for Yelena.

Staring at each other, tension lingering palpably before Yelena clears her throat, breaking the moment. She gestures towards a more secluded area of the café. “Should we, uh, talk over there?”

With a hesitant nod, Wanda acquiesces, her thoughts filled with a flicker of doubt about her choice to open a café rather than a bar. At this very moment, she wishes for nothing more than a shot of whisky before having this ‘talk’.

Yelena doesn’t jump back right in after they are seated. Instead, she takes a sip of her coffee, humming pleasantly at the flavor that touches her taste buds.

“How did you find this place?” Wanda asks. How did you know where to find me?

Yelena, unfazed by the question, responds matter-of-factly, “I'm a journalist. Finding out things isn't too hard for me to do.”

"So, are you trying to get her back?" Yelena repeats as her eyes lock on Wanda’s.

Wanda's response is swift and sincere. “I'm not,” she states firmly. If Yelena had asked her that question before the night she nearly died, she would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. But now, she has nothing but respect for your relationship with Yelena, and doesn’t want to come in between the happiness you’ve found with her.

“But you still love her, don’t you?”

Wanda acknowledges her feelings for you in a slow, deliberate nod, seeing no point in denying it.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to ask me this,” Wanda says. "Y/N loves you. She wouldn't be with you if she didn't."

“I know,” Yelena says with conviction. "But that doesn't mean she’s mine completely."

Wanda's eyes narrow, searching for the true intent behind Yelena's words. Does Yelena genuinely believe that? Could there really be a possibility that you still love her?

Wanda swallows dryly. “I–”

Yelena interrupts, her tone heavy with resignation. "You should have just stayed away," she sighs, her gaze shifting downwards, as if the realization dawned on her just a little too late. She didn’t mean to start talking to Wanda about her insecurities, but Yelena couldn’t help but think about the depth of your attachment to this woman the more she looks at her.

As she gazes at Wanda, she can't help but wonder where your love for Wanda ends and hers begin.

“I am staying away,” Wanda firmly declares, her posture shifting as she straightens her spine in the chair. All of her encounters with you except for the time you were the one to come to her have been purely coincidental–despite how often they happen.

“Except for matters concerning Sparky,” she adds, correcting herself, “He used to be Y/N's dog as well. It was important for her to be informed about what was happening with him.”

“So, you didn't contact her on her birthday?” Yelena probes, watching Wanda intently for anything that would suggest that she might be lying with her answer.

Wanda, to her credit, doesn't even flinch as she replies, “I did.” It’s immediately clear that Yelena has no idea that you ran into her that night. Wanda understands that it is a matter to be discussed between you and your girlfriend, and she has no intention of revealing something that is not hers to disclose. But it’s another question that will definitely consume her thoughts later.

Yelena tightly clenches her jaw, trying to stay calm. She's always trusted you and never invaded your privacy, never checked your messages. But now, she can't help but wonder if she should have been a bit more vigilant.

“I see,” she drawls, and then finishes the last of her coffee. She doesn’t think she wants to know the details of that any further. “You claim that you’re trying to stay away from Y/N, but obviously, you’re not doing such a great job of it.”

Confused, Wanda furrows her brows and asks, "What do you mean?"

Yelena reaches into her purse and retrieves a thumb drive, sliding it in Wanda's direction.

Wanda looks at the curious little device. “What’s this?”

“Before I tell you, there’s something you should know,” Yelena pauses, making sure that Wanda is thoroughly listening before she shares the news. "Victor Shade has just sent Y/N a demand letter for damages related to physical assault."

"V-Vision?" Wanda’s voice trembles as she speaks.

Yelena nods knowingly. "I assume there's only one Victor Shade in your life–"

"He's not in my life." The words escape Wanda's lips with a forcefulness and intensity that surprises them both. “Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause hangs between them, Yelena patiently waiting for Wanda to gather herself as she observes the rapid whirl of thoughts inside her head.

After a beat, Yelena continues the slew of disclosures. “I assume his decision to exact revenge on Y/N has something to do with you.”

Wanda's voice rises in defense. “Are you accusing me of conniving with that–”

“No, not exactly,” Yelena says. “He’s a kid who grew up in a wealthy family, never being denied anything in his life. I think his letter was driven by jealousy. All I’m saying is that this could have been avoided if he had not seen you two together.

“Which brings us to that,” Yelena's gaze shifts to the USB device, which sits untouched near Wanda's hands on the table. It's as if Wanda is actively avoiding it, treating it like a dangerous explosive, which in retrospect, could be deemed as such if its contents were ever revealed.

"Look, I don't have concrete proof of him stalking you, but I believe this is substantial evidence to shake him off balance."

Wanda fixes Yelena with an expectant gaze, her eyes brimming with anticipation.

Yelena lets out a resigned sigh. "Fine, I'll tell you, since you're so patient.”

Wanda resists reacting to the veiled sarcasm, sensing that what Yelena is about to reveal aligns with her worst fears.

“Vision filmed you both having sex,” Yelena states bluntly, not concerned with softening the crude reality of the situation. “I was able to retrieve just one. I don’t know how many there are. And from the way the recording was cut an hour later when you’re already sleeping means you have no idea he was doing this.”

At Wanda's lack of response and the visible dread in her eyes, Yelena decides to speak up again.

“That's an invasion of privacy. In the state of New Jersey, you can send someone to prison for that for up to five years. Now, it’s up to you to decide what to do with this information.

“I know you care about Y/N, “ Yelena takes a deep breath, as if that fact physically hurts too much for her to accept in light of things. “I know you’ll do everything to help her in this situation.”

“How much is he asking from Y/N?” Wanda mumbles after a long time.

“More than $800,000 in damages.”

“Jesus,” Wanda gasps at the amount, instinctively bringing her hands up to her face, covering her eyes and burying her features in her palms. Although insurance might cover it, it’s still potentially crippling. Determined to figure this out, she finally picks up the USB from the table and secures it inside her pocket.

“How did you find out all of this? And how did you even get this video?” Wanda inquires curiously.

“I don’t reveal my sources.” Yelena replies with a smile, leaving Wanda suspicious about the legality of her methods. And equally suspicious of Yelena’s intentions, Wanda asks, “Why are you helping me?”

Yelena's snort breaks through, a genuine expression of glee that surprises Wanda. "I'm not. I'm doing all of this for Y/N."

"Fair enough. But why approach me then? You could have immediately gone to Y/N about this, even shown her the video?” Logically, it would be a strategic move for Yelena. Witnessing the gritty details of Wanda’s cheating would undoubtedly reignite the grievances in your heart. And she’d never have to worry about you going back to Wanda ever again.

The look that Yelena throws at her is a mix of pity and disgust. “I’d never intentionally hurt Y/N. I came to you because it's your responsibility to fix this mess. It's the least you could do for all the pain you've caused her.”

With those words hanging in the air, Yelena rises from her seat. Casting one final glance at Wanda, she adds, "If you think I’d resort to dirty tricks just to keep Y/N, then you really have no idea how to love her in the first place.”

***

“You have no idea how happy I was when you said you wanted to see me.”

Vision smiles at Wanda as her gaze unwillingly falls upon him, her body trembling with a fury she never realized existed within her. The moment Yelena left her café, Wanda wasted no time in reaching out to Vision, and he promptly answered her call, as if he had been eagerly anticipating that very moment all along. She had chosen a crowded restaurant, in one of the busiest streets in Manhattan near Town Square, seeking safety in the presence of a man she knew deep down couldn't be trusted.

"I didn't want to. I had to," Wanda admits sharply, crossing her arms in front of her. "I thought we had an agreement. That you would stay away from Y/N. And your idea of that is extorting money from her?"

“My circumstances have changed,” Vision argues, sounding almost remorseful. “My dad decided to cut me off, and I can no longer fund my move to Tokyo to pursue my film studies.”

Vision searches Wanda’s face, hoping to see a reaction, but she remains indifferent to his news of departure, seemingly unaffected by what's happening in his life.

“That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard,” Wanda says spitefully. And then she sighs in defeat. “If I give you the money, will you–”

"I don't want the money from you," Vision declares, placing his fork down with a loud noise. "She did put me into a coma–”

“Because we fucking drove her to it!” Wanda screams her frustration. The outburst attracts the attention of others in the restaurant, and Wanda looks around apologetically before sinking back into her chair with a sigh.

“The assault happened and I can prove it in court if it ever comes to it.” he says after Wanda has grown quiet.

“You’re not going to prove anything because you’re going to retract that letter and you’re going to leave her alone just like you promised.” Wanda’s words carry a sense of finality, as if there is no other option for Vision.

“You can’t tell me what to do anymore–”

“I can,” Wanda says with a bout of confidence. "Otherwise, you're looking at up to five years in prison for filming me without my consent."

It takes Vision a moment to grasp the meaning behind Wanda's words, and Wanda takes pleasure in observing the color drain from his face.

“You hacked into my stuff?” he stammers in disbelief.

“You fucking filmed me,” Wanda reiterates, as they both remain fixated on their respective grievances. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. I’ve never felt so betrayed and disgusted with myself as I do now.”

“How did you get the file?” he asks.

“I don’t reveal my sources,” Wanda says, echoing Yelena’s statement from earlier.

He locks eyes with Wanda, attempting to gauge if she's bluffing, but Wanda remains resolute, maintaining a stoic expression. Then, a small laugh escapes him, shaking his head as if the situation is nothing more than a joke. Wanda fumes as she takes a sip of her water and sets it back down heavy-handedly.

“Here’s the thing,” Vision casually signals for the waiter to refill his wine. “We’re all backed into a corner. If you use that against me, she'll find out, and it will only fuel her hatred towards you. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

Wanda hesitates, her lips parting with uncertainty before closing them in a swift decision. It's a high-stakes gamble, an all-or-nothing move that reveals the vulnerable hand she holds.

You really have no idea how to love her in the first place. She doesn’t exactly know what Yelena meant by that, nevertheless, it makes her doubt her ability to love you properly. She wishes there was a manual that she could read from cover-to-cover until the pages are worn from countless readings. All Wanda can do is prove that she can; even though loving you is the one thing she wants to get right, but has failed multiple times.

“You don’t get to question me about what I’m willing to risk.” she says as she stands up to leave.

Vision calmly wipes his mouth with a table napkin. “Then I guess we’ll just have to find out what Y/N’s next move is.”

***

Standing on the balcony of your high-rise Manhattan apartment, the view from up here is breathtaking.

The city below pulsates with vibrant energy, resembling a living organism with a heartbeat all its own. Its grandeur is reminiscent of the landscapes that once inspired poets and artists in centuries past. However, the awe-inspiring scenery does little to quell the turmoil raging within you, as you grapple with the decision of whether to pick up the phone and call Wanda or let the silence linger.

You haven't told Yelena about the demand letter that you received from Vision’s law firm yesterday. You want to protect her from getting involved in the convoluted aftermath of Wanda's cheating, which evidently still affects you like aftershocks from an earthquake. You tell yourself that you will let her know, in time, when you figure out what to do.

With Wanda, there's a strong likelihood that she is already caught in the midst of this storm. You vividly recall the last encounter with Vision, his demeanor exuding a sense of power, as if he held the ability to dismantle your life in a single moment. He subtly implied that it was solely Wanda who prevented him from doing so.

You wonder if Wanda’s aware that Vision has carried out his plans for revenge; she needed to stop protecting you from him. You’re more than capable of taking care of yourself and accepting the repercussions of your own choices and actions.

As you deliberate on what to say to Wanda when you eventually call her, the sound of your building lobby intercom blares through the living room. The voice on the other end informs you, "Ms. Y/L/N? A certain Wanda Maximoff here would like to see you. Shall I allow her in?"

Your heart skips a beat and you press the button for you to speak. "Please, thank you.”

There’s the answer to one of your questions–Wanda probably knows about Vision’s stipulation regarding the substantial sum of almost a million dollars.

It’s a few minutes of waiting before you hear the doorbell ring.

You open the door to find a visibly fatigued Wanda standing timidly before you. Dark circles under her eyes and a certain gauntness in her cheeks catch your attention, details that you may not have noticed before due to her naturally pronounced cheekbones that give her a sharp, distinct look.

"I should've called," Wanda says, offering a thin smile as you welcome her inside. "But my feet were already bringing me here before I even thought about it."

"It's no problem at all. Would you like some water or something to drink? I have kombucha, tea... There's also a French Cab breathing in the kitchen, though I know it's quite early."

"I think I'll go for a glass of wine," Wanda replies.

"Coming right up," you say with a warm, good-natured smile, playfully mimicking Wanda's typical line in her own café.

“Is Yelena around?” Wanda asks as she nervously takes in her surroundings.

“She’s working,” you reply as you trudge towards the kitchen.

Left on her own, Wanda perches awkwardly on one end of the couch, her eyes scanning your quaint living room. She can discern the details that reflect your personality, but it doesn’t appease the fact that she has never felt more like an outsider in your life.

"Here," Wanda hears you say from behind her. She turns her head to find you giving the wine glass a gentle swirl, observing as the liquid moves about slowly and clings to the sides—a clear indicator of its high alcohol content. Bringing the glass to your nose, you take a whiff, seemingly enticed by its aroma. Finally, you extend the glass towards Wanda, offering it to her.

Wanda takes a sip–it’s rich and heavy, and the warmth it brings immediately spreads to her chest, instantly soothing her.

You look at her expectantly, choosing to sit on the opposite end. Seeing how worried she looks, you feel that she might finish her glass before she could utter a single word about what she came here for.

Deciding to help her out, you break the silence first.

“I take it you know about Vision’s demand letter,” you start, running your fingertip along the rim of your own wine glass. “It’s what you came here for right?”

Wanda nods and then raises the glass to her lips once more, taking another sip until she empties its contents. A small dribble of red liquid escapes from the corner of her mouth, which she promptly wipes with her thumb.

“What are you going to do?” Wanda asks, somber eyes fixed on her lap. Guilt weighs heavily on her, feeling like she brought this on you–which, in hindsight, she probably did.

As Wanda wrestles with her own feelings of culpability, she hears Calliope's voice echoing in her mind. “You can’t shoulder all the blame, Wanda,” she told her. “It just leaves you lonely and stuck in a situation you have no control of.”

Control is an illusion, Wanda reminds herself.

“I already set an appointment with my own lawyer. She’s going to go over the figures so we can renegotiate.”

It’s not at all what Wanda is expecting.

“You’re paying him off?” she asks, gaping at you openly for a moment.

"I did send him to the hospital. For quite a while actually," you admit, blinking slowly. "And if he had never woken up, I could very well be in prison right now."

As Wanda struggles with lingering guilt, you find yourself unable to deny the truth either and it weighs heavily on you. Frankly, you see no other way around this. Evading the consequences of letting your anger overwhelm you to the point of potential homicide is no longer a viable option.

You can see Wanda struggling with your decision, and you bitterly think that it’s too late for her to protect you in any way. She’s inflicted her own damage; and the consequence for her is watching the implications of it unravel before her.

“I–I have another way,” Wanda says.

Arching an eyebrow, you’re torn between curiosity and doubt. Wanda is aching for another glass of wine, but she has been consciously limiting her alcohol consumption lately. She doesn't want to repeat the countless occasions where she has either blacked out or come close to it.

“Wanda, stop,” you say, your voice gentle. “I don't want to know. I need closure. I need to get it in the right way, not through shortcuts. Please, don't protect me from this.”

Wanda’s eyes close on their own accord at your mention of the word ‘closure’. Does that closure include her?

“Just hear me out, please,” she implores with urgency. “There’s… there’s something he did that you can bring up with the law as well. And Vision has no proof that you were ever in his apartment, right? So if it comes to it, he really can’t prove that you’re the one who attacked him.”

Wanda looks pale even as she speaks with a kind of preternatural calm that you recognize only comes out when Wanda has come to terms with something. You lean back on the arm rest with an expectant look.

“He recorded us having… having the affair,” The words wrench themselves out of Wanda’s mouth and it takes a while for them to sink into your brain; when they do, you quickly look away, wishing you had instructed the concierge to deny Wanda's request to see you earlier.

You make a conscious effort to rein in your emotions, particularly the anger that wells up inside you. Wanda's infidelity is something you have learned to cope with long ago. But to discover that it can be substantiated with moving pictures and sounds leaves you grappling for answers.

“Did you know?” you ask steadily–while you can. “Did you know you were being recorded?”

Wanda can’t read the emotion behind your words as she shakes her head no.

Wanda inches closer to you, until your legs are almost touching. With utmost care, she takes hold of one of your hands and places a flash drive in your palm, closing your fingers around it. Your instinctive response is to maintain a firm grip, clenching your fist tightly around the drive.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she whispers. "If it wasn't for... for what I did, you’d be... we’d be..." Wanda's voice trails off as tears well up in the corners of her eyes, which she hastily wipes away.

Your own eyes moisten at the sight of her, but you manage to hold onto your rage to keep yourself from shattering altogether.

“I'm sorry he's resorting to this,” she continues, her gaze fixed on your clenched fist. “I'm sorry that this exists,” she adds, acknowledging the evidence of her betrayal in your hand. “I’d take it all back if I could.”

You feel the bandaid being ripped off the same wound that refuses to heal.

How deep does this go and where does it end?

Wanda's breath hitches, her struggle to hold back a sob. You impulsively attempt to create some distance, a physical retreat. Yet, as you lean back, the solid presence of the armrest behind you seems to trap you in a greater sense–of simultaneously wanting Wanda close and wanting her as far away from you as possible.

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