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sycamorelibrary754 · 5 months

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Happy Thanksgiving

Summary: You invite Natasha’s family to join you for Thanksgiving. Holiday cheer and a surprise awaits!

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader (platonic), Alexei Alanovich Shostakov x reader (platonic) Melina Vostokoff x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: None

A/N: This was a fun one. Happy Thanksgiving!

When you first broached the subject with Natasha of inviting Yelena, Melina, and Alexi to your home for Thanksgiving, you weren’t sure how your wife would respond. True, things were better. Their relationship had gone through something of a healing process since they took down Dreykov and the Red Room together, but her family was still a lot for anyone to handle. Most of the team was going to Iowa to spend Thanksgiving with the Barton’s. Clint had gotten it into his head to deep fry the turkey this year. It was going to be can’t-miss-entertainment according to Sam. However, you and Natasha were looking forward to a more intimate holiday.

“You really want my family to join us for Thanksgiving?” Her eyes met yours as you snuggled up on the couch together.

“I think it could be really fun. Plus, you deserve to get to spend some quality time with them that doesn’t involve death, destruction, or pigs,” you joked.

“You don’t like mom’s pigs?” She smirked.

No, love. I do. They’re adorable. Especially once Yelena made them those personalized piggy vests,” you giggled.

“Oh, yeah… Pests!” Natasha laughed recalling the image.

“So what do you think? A Romanoff family Thanksgiving?”

She thought for a moment before a smile reached her lips. “Okay, let’s do it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think it could be fun,” caressing your cheek softly.

Upon receiving Nat’s approval and confirmation that all three were available and would be there with bells on, you went into planning mode. Determined to make it a special holiday for everyone.

*^~^*

You left bright and early to hit up the grocery store the Monday before Thanksgiving. It was crucial to avoiding the out-of-stock items and the rush of, “fucking annoying slowpokes who don’t know a shallot from an onion,” you eloquently informed your wife after wiggling out of her warm hold.

Nat mumbled something akin to, “See you later, detka,” her head buried in her pillow, as you hurriedly put on your coat, scarf, and beanie and rushed out of the house. Your car keys and shopping list clenched purposefully in your fist.

*^~^*

The front door slammed shut a couple of hours later, alerting Natasha to your arrival.

“I’m home, love!”

“The conquering shopper has returned! How was the store?” Looking around at the mountain of groceries cluttered around you like presents under the Christmas tree.

“It was good! I managed to get everything on the list,” removing your warm attire and running your hand smoothly through your hair.

“I can see that, y/n. Did you leave anything for the other shoppers?” Nat smirked.

“This is all necessary for the traditional Thanksgiving feast I have planned for us,” you explained. “Your family has never had an American Thanksgiving, so I thought why not go all out?”

Your wife stepped carefully around your grocery maze and wrapped her arms lovingly around your neck. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Not in the last twenty minutes,” jokingly glancing at the imaginary watch on your wrist before planting a tender kiss on her lips.

Natasha offered to unpack the groceries for you. Meanwhile, you set about creating a cooking timeline for the meal preparation. You were so in your element, your wife couldn’t help but smile. Your adorable expression as you typed away on your laptop reminded her of your demeanor out in the field. Focused, engaged, confident.

*^~^*

A creature of habit, Natasha awoke the following morning for her daily run. She groggily reached over to turn off her alarm, until she realized the alarm hadn’t gone off. No, it was the clanging of pots and pans from the kitchen that tore her from her blissful sleep. Nat rolled over to your side of the bed, only to find it empty. She groaned softly and sat up; cracking her neck and stretching her arms over her head as a yawn escaped her lips.

Natasha padded down the hall toward the kitchen; still clad in her pajamas and the fuzzy socks you bought her. She turned the corner to find you floating around the kitchen in a whirlwind. Dishes in the oven and on the stove.

“Moya lyubov? You’re already in the kitchen?” Rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“No rest for the wary, sweetheart. I’ve got to get the pumpkin pie out of the way so I can get started on the sides by this afternoon,” you explained, fervently whisking your pumpkin puree into your custard mixture. You glanced around the counter like you were looking for something. “Oh, can you hand me those spice jars behind you?”

She picked up the cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger stacking them precariously on top of one another like blocks before appearing at your side.

“Nicely, done. You clearly missed your calling as a professional Jenga player.”

“Take your damned spices,” she snarked.

You sprinkled the spice mixture into the filling and let it sit. “Okay,” you said wiping your brow. “I just need to grab the pie crust out of the oven, it should be par-baked by now.”

“I got it, detka,” pulling on the oven mitts and removing the pan from the oven.

Perfect, now we’re just going to fill the crust,” carefully pouring the custard filling. “Then this is going back in the oven at 325 for 45-60 minutes.”

Nat carefully placed the pie back in the oven. “Shall I close, doctor?”

“Please,” in your most professional voice before lapsing into giggles.

“Now, that’s in. We can get started on the sides. Mashed, potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry feta salad,” you listed.

Two types of potatoes?”

“Oh, it’s a must, love! You get both the salty and the sweet. It’s potato perfection.”

“Hmm, just like you,” she said suggestively.

“Smooth,” you replied.

“I try.”

*^~^*

You were still in the kitchen when Natasha returned from her run.

“Have you taken a break at all since I left?” Removing her running shoes and placing them by the front door.

“No time for breaks. Your sister just texted me and asked if Mac and Cheese was part of the American Thanksgiving tradition, so I’m whipping up one for her.”

Your wife rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, that’s not necessary, malyshka. Yelena will survive one meal without her precious Mac and Cheese.”

“It’s no problem. I want your family to feel comfortable! That’s why I also have a sparkling Vodka cocktail planned,” you winked.

“That is so sweet, but there is no need to stress over it, y/n. They are going to love it no matter what you make. Plus, you know if you feed them this well they’ll never leave, right?”

“And wouldn’t that be wonderful?” You joked.

“No, it wouldn’t,” she deadpanned.

The rest of the afternoon was spent preparing the stuffing, cranberry sauce, garlic green beanies, and gravy. By the time you finally laid down on the couch Tuesday evening still in your apron, you were pleased with the progress you had made. Your legs lay across Natasha’s lap while she massaged your aching feet. She wasn’t surprised to look over and find you sound asleep five minutes later as the television glow illuminated your features. Your wife could only smile at your sleepy form before gently picking you up and carrying you off to bed.

*^~^*

Wednesday morning Natasha decided to let you sleep in, so she made the executive decision to turn your alarm off. Truthfully, she felt guilty for how hard you had been pushing yourself this week for the sake of her family. Nat was nursing a cup of tea and reading a book in the family room when she heard you down the hall.

“Oh, crap!”

“3,2,1…..”

“Nat, why didn’t you wake me up!” Throwing on your favorite cardigan as you entered the room. “I’ve still got to make the pretzel bread and raspberry jello today.”

“You needed the sleep. I can’t tell you’re exhausted, and you were sleeping so soundly when I got up.”

You had a look of panic in your eyes.

“It’s okay, y/n. I found the recipes for the jello and bread on the table and got the jump on it for you. The jello is done and in the fridge, and the bread dough is under the towel rising.”

You blinked a couple of times as if she was speaking Latin. “You cooked?”

“Are you questioning my abilities?” Raising an eyebrow.

“Well.… yeah? I love you sweetheart, but the only thing I’ve ever seen you make is a peanut butter sandwich.”

“See for yourself,” smiling proudly and removing her reading glasses.

Opening the fridge, you were pleasantly surprised to find a gelatinous raspberry jello staring back at you. You then peeked under the towel on the counter to find the bread dough had just about doubled in size.

“Well, turn me upside down and paint me blue!”

“Hmmm tempting, but let’s save that for after my family leaves,” Natasha smirked as she placed a kiss on the side of your temple from behind.

“This is awesome, my love. Thank you so much,” turning around in her hold. “I have to say, the thought of the Black Widow cooking is incredibly sexy.”

“Is it now?”

“Very, I may have to get you your own apron,” you teased, as Natasha gently grasped your ear lobe between her teeth before placing soft kisses down the side of your neck. A few moments later, her phone dinged with a text notification on the counter beside you. You glanced down at the screen out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s Yelena, sweetheart...”

“Is she on fire? Otherwise, I’m not stopping.” Moving the tender kisses to your lips.

“No, she wants to know if she should bring anything,” you replied between kisses.

She feels bad we’re doing all the work,”

“She’s bringing our parents, that’s a shit ton of work.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

*^~^*

The next day you and Natasha got started on the crown jewel of your Thanksgiving dinner, the turkey. After letting it thaw in the fridge all week, your twenty-pound bird had been marinating in a salt brine for the past twelve hours. You placed the turkey in the oven at 425 degrees for 35 minutes, which gave you two just enough time to get ready before it needed to be basted.

After showering and putting on your best fall colors, you heard the doorbell.

“Baby, they’re here!” you called, opening the door to welcome your guests.

Alexi was sporting a plush turkey hat, while Melina held a freshly made appetizer. Yelena, standing in front of both of them, had Fanny at her feet. She quickly stepped inside first with a warm hug and a peck on your cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n! Thank you so much for inviting us. “Now,” placing both hands on your shoulders. “Where is the booze? I just had to spend the last 20 minutes in the car alone with them listening to Alexi ramble on about his stupid hat.”

You point toward the coffee table holding the sparkling Vodka cocktails as your sister-in-law gives you a cheeky smile. “I love you.”

“Haha!” Alexi exclaimed. Greetings, my wonderful daughter-in-law. I am ready for turkey!” Wrapping you in a giant bear hug.

“Could’ve fooled me, Alexi,” you joked. “Ooh Melina, what do we have here? It looks delicious.”

“A traditional Russian appetizer, Mushroom Julienne. Mushrooms and onions cooked in cream sauce, cheese, and sour cream.”

“Ugh! My mouth is already watering. Here, let me take your coats, you can place that on the coffee table,” you offered.

After tending to the coats, you rejoined the group as everyone settled in the family room for appetizers and cocktails. Holiday music played softly in the background, setting the scene perfectly. You sat on the sofa beside your wife while your in-laws treated you to numerous stories of Natasha and Yelena’s all-to-brief childhood in Ohio. Some of which you had yet to hear.

“Y/N, has Natalia told you how she and Yelena used to stay up late on Christmas Eve to try and catch Santa Claus?” Melina asked.

“Now that was fun. You know, he comes down the chimney, girls. Look out! Where is he? You wait for him, and then when the cookies are gone, you see he’s there.” Alexi recalled.

Yelena smiled fondly at the memory while Natasha turned as red as Santa’s suit and hid her face in her hands.

“Aww, honey,” rubbing circles on her back. It’s precious! I’m sure you were adorable.”

“As adorable as you can be with bright blue hair. You looked like cotton candy,” Yelena laughed.

Nat threw a pillow across the room that barely missed her sister’s head.

“Ha!! Missed!”

“Girls, behave,” Melina ordered.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sisterly teasing and family banter. This was exactly what you were hoping for, and the evening was just getting started.

“Oh, detka, you don’t have a drink yet. Let me get you one,” Natasha offered starting to stand up, but your hand on her arm stopped her.

“Oh, no thanks, love. I actually need to go check on the turkey.”

“I’ll join you,” Yelena announced. “I want to see this bird you Americans are so crazy about.”

You opened the oven to reveal your delectable 20-pound turkey. “Do you want to brush it with the honey glaze for me, Lena? I’m going to check on the side dishes.”

“Just call me DaVinci!”

You turned back around to find your sister-in-law had finished off the glazing by painting a smiley face on the turkey.

“Wow, I didn’t know our turkey had such a charming smile,” you joked. Reducing the heat to 325 and setting the timer for another 75 minutes.

“Thank you again for including us today, y/n. While it would’ve been fun to watch Barton sear his eyebrows off trying to deep-fry a turkey, it's been nice to see Natasha so happy. We didn’t have any family holidays growing up. Not real ones, anyway.”

“Well, you always will now,” placing an arm around her shoulder. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make your sister happy. That’s a promise.”

While the turkey finished cooking, you decided to share as many of your own Thanksgiving traditions as you could. You watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, took in some Turkey Day football, and even played a rousing game of Pictionary.

“What the hell is that?” Yelena shouted as Nat was heavily engaged in her drawing.

“Oooh! Ooh! A ladybug doing the Macarena!”You screamed, just before the timer ran out.

“Yes!”

“Unbelievable, what is that five in a row,” Melina remarked. No wonder you two are such a good team.”

“Well, it's no surprise you're a pro at Pictionary. I mean, who needs talent when you can just doodle like a 5-year-old?” Yelena retorted.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game, Lena,” dropping the marker like a microphone.

“Trust me, I do. It will be perfect for when I want to torture Kate Bishop.”

“With that, I think it’s time for dinner,” you announced happily.

*^~^*

It only took a few minutes before your Thanksgiving feast was lovingly displayed on the dining room table. The sight and aroma of the food was a gentle massage to the soul.

“Before we dig in,” holding up your glass for a toast, “I just wanted to say how happy Nat and I are that you could join us today. We love you, and I’m so thankful to be a part of your family.”

Natasha grasped your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“We feel the same way,” Melina concurred.

“Yes, we’re so happy that you and our little Natalia found each other,” Alexi added.

“Yes, y/n is a saint. It’s all very touching, can I carve the turkey now,” Yelena groaned, holding up a sharpened carving knife.

“You may proceed,” you declared with a Queen’s wave of your hand.

Dishes were passed around the table like musical chairs. Wine filled everyone’s glasses, while you opted for your favorite - Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider. You pretended not to notice Yelena sneaking a few scraps to Fanny under the table. The chatter rose and fell, every few moments dispersed with laughter. It was the kind of occasion most aren't aware that they're truly enjoying, yet look back at in warm nostalgia.

After hibernating for a bit in your Thanksgiving food comas, you moved back into the family room for dessert. You were excited to finally bring out the homemade Pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream.

“Ah, now this is a beautiful pie.” Look at this, girls. I love America, you cannot get this back in St. Petersburg.” Alexi gushed.

“Y/N made it from scratch,” your wife bragged, causing you to blush at the compliment.

“Did y/n also split the atom?” Yelena teased. She earned an eye roll from her older sister. “Could you BE more whipped?”

“No, I honestly don’t think I could,” Natasha looked at you like you had hung the moon and the stars.

*^~^*

As the evening wound down, the hustle and bustle of the past week was starting to catch up to you. Your wife didn’t miss your heavy eyelids or the tiny yawn that escaped your lips as Fanny hopped up on the couch to lay down beside you.

“Well, we should probably get going, traffic will be annoying crossing back over the bridge,” your sister-in-law said.

“Before you go, I have gifts for all of you!” Jumping up off the couch.

“You do?”A bewildered expression on Nat’s face.

“I do!” You’re voice trailed away as you padded down the hall toward your bedroom.

Natasha turned around to her family with a shrug of her shoulders, no clue what you were talking about. You returned a moment later with small autumn-gold gift bags.

“This is just a little something for each of you,” clasping your hands together in front of your smiling face. Natasha was even more confused when you handed her one as well. “Go on, sweetheart,” you encouraged.

Natasha removed the delicate tissue paper. Her strong and calloused hands met the soft cotton hiding inside. She pulled the gift out and held it up in front of her. A tiny onesie was staring back at her that read, “Mommy’s Little Turkey.”

Natasha stared at it speechlessly wide-eyed. A first for your relationship. Finally, her brain caught up with the moment. “Moya lyubov—what? we—you…you’re pregnant?”

You nodded vigorously, starting to cry. Natasha’s hands cupped your cheeks. Her lips met yours in a heartfelt kiss, not caring in the slightest that her family was watching. You gently combed your fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, returning the kiss.

Melina, Alexi, and Yelena held up their onesies to find variations of Natasha’s: Grandma’s Little Turkey, Grandpa’s Little Turkey, and Auntie’s Little Turkey.”

“I knew it!”Yelena shouted.

She turned to Natasha and whispered, “You see what can happen when you keep your heart,” holding her lovingly in her arms.

Vashe zdorov'ye! (Cheers) Alexi exclaimed. If it is a boy you will name him Alexi. It is a strong and honorable name!” Kissing you on both cheeks.

“Oh God,” Yelena muttered under her breath. “For the love of Fanny, please don’t do that,” wrapping her arms around you. “I would love to babysit. There is much I’m looking forward to passing on to my niece or nephew.”

“Yeah, that’s not terrifying at all,” your wife mumbled in your ear.

The shock wearing off, Natasha reached down and gently placed her palm on your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but just knowing that your child was growing inside you awakened a dream that she had put away in the Red Room long ago.

*^~^*

Once her family left, Natasha insisted that she would handle the post-holiday clean-up, confining you to the couch with a plethora of pillows and a fluffy blanket. Foreshadowing what was to come for the duration of your pregnancy.

“Sweetheart, those dishes go in the top right cupboard,” directing her from the couch.

“No worries, malyshka. I got it! You just take it easy. The baby needs rest after all of this Thanksgiving cheer,” her protective instincts make an appearance.

“The baby is the size of a plum, my love,”

“A very tired plum!”

*^~^*

Thirty minutes later the kitchen was clean and you both were ready for a good night’s sleep. You would never admit it to your wife, but boy, were you tired. You donned your coziest pajamas and joined Natasha in bed. Snuggled into the covers, you found comfort and peace in your safe space. Nat rolled over to face you, your foreheads touching in a beautifully intimate gesture of love and affection.

“This has been the best day of my life. Not only did you give my family an amazing Thanksgiving, you gave me a gift I’ll never forget. Though I have to admit now that I know you’re pregnant, I’m replaying the last week in my head in a loop of horrifying anxiety.”

You giggled at her confession, “It’s alright, Nat. I’m ready for a nice long rest, and I just had a check-up with Helen last week.”

“Wait, does the team know?”

“Dear God, no. You think that group can keep a secret?”

“We can tell them at Stark’s Christmas party in a couple of weeks if you’re comfortable with the idea.”

“Perfect. I need a couple of weeks to prepare for the onslaught of attention from our little one’s aunts and uncles.”

Natasha reached over and grabbed your hand. “I love you, y/n. I can’t wait to welcome our little plum into the world,” she smiled.

“I love you too. You are going to be an amazing mother, sweetheart.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Natasha.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff and you #black widow #fluff #comfort #yelena boleva #red guardian #melina #the avengers #mcu #white widow #natalia romanova

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lives-in-midgard · 1 month

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You're her entire world

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader (platonic)

Summary: You finally tell Yelena about your feelings for her.

Word Count: 1225

Request: Bucky telling Reader how obvious it is that Yelena likes them but Yelena is a little shy//nervous to say anything to reader so basically Bucky becomes the match maker? [See full request here]

Prompt 5: “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.”

A/N: Thank you for requesting this from my 1K celebration I hope you like it!!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

In the last few weeks, you and Yelena have become closer to each other. You spent a lot of time together and your crush on her grew because of that. She often visited you at the compound or you drove to her apartment. Spending time together also distracted you from worrying about Natasha and Bucky since they were both on a long and difficult mission. Even though you knew you didn’t have to worry about Bucky, you couldn’t help it because he’s your best friend. And Natasha is also one of the best assassins out there, probably even the best, but since Yelena is her sister, she can’t help it either.

So, for the past few weeks you’ve been watching movies or TV shows, visiting some places in New York that Yelena hasn’t seen yet and wanted to see, and when you found out that Yelena can only cook mac and cheese, you had to change that and asked if she would like to cook something with you. You had a lot of fun and Yelena started to really enjoy cooking with you. Yelena and you also really enjoyed being outside at night and watching the stars. Sometimes Yelena would fall asleep almost cuddling with you and resting her head on your chest. This also happened when you had movie nights together, and you loved when that happened.

You love hanging out with Yelena. You love everything about it. Her silly jokes, her sarcastic comments, her laughter, sitting close to each other and having a deep conversation late into the night.

The other Avengers who weren’t on a mission all noticed how close you were. Wanda always smiling at you both and Clint was also very happy that you were having fun together.

You were currently sitting on the couch in the living room at the compound and were discussing what you wanted to watch this time.

“So, what do you want to watch?” You asked as you opened Netflix.

“What would you suggest?” She asked shyly and you smiled at her.

“Hmm, let me think.” You said, looking at your movie watchlist you had on Netflix.

“What about this one? It’s called ‘Little Women’, and I really liked it the first time I saw it.”

“Okay, let’s watch that.” She said and you started to giggle.

“What?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe you should know that there is an actress in this movie who looks a lot like you.”

“Is that why you like this movie?” Yelena said, starting to blush.

“Maybe” You teased.

“Okay...umm, let’s just watch the movie.” Yelena said quietly and you started the movie.

After a while you sat very close to each other, and rested your head on her shoulder while you watched the movie. You were so distracted by the movie that you didn’t even hear the Quinjet land at the compound. You didn’t even notice the elevator door opening behind you.

“Hey you two.” You suddenly heard Natasha say. You both quickly moved away from each other and turned around. You started to smile when you saw Bucky standing there. You got up from the couch and ran to Bucky.

“I’m so glad you’re back safely.”

“I missed you.” Bucky said and wrapped his arms around you. As you hugged him, you heard Yelena walk towards Natasha.

“You’re back sestra! “Yelena said and hugged Natasha.

You decided to let them take a shower, while you finished the movie. After you all had dinner together, Bucky and Natsha told the others about the successful mission. Then Steve suggested to watch a movie. After the movie ended, you went to your room. You had only been there a few minutes when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You said and Bucky opened the door.

“Hey.” He said with a smile.

“Hey, Buck.” You said, walking up to him with a smile.

“I thought I’d come to you to hear what I missed while I was away.”

“Sure, come on, let’s sit down.” You said and walked over to your bed. Bucky sat down next to you, and you smiled at him.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“Isn’t there something you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Buck?” You said and Bucky chuckled.

“When were you going to tell me that you and Yelena are finally a couple?” Bucky said and you were confused now.

“What no me and Yelena are just friends.”

“You’re kidding right?” Bucky said and you just shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“Yelena looks at you like you’re her entire world.”

“What?” You said nervously.

“It’s so obvious that Yelena likes you too. The way she looks at you tells everything.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Definitely.” You smiled and started telling Bucky everything he missed and how you and Yelena became so close.

“Please promise me that you will tell Yelena about your feelings for her.”

“Okay, I promise, but I don’t know how.”

“Just tell her how you feel and what she means to you.”

“Thanks, Buck. You’re the best.” Bucky started to smile and pulled you closer with his metal arm. You talked for a few more minutes when Bucky decided to look for Steve.

Three days have passed since Bucky and Natasha returned from the mission. You were watching a movie with Bucky, Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Yelena. After the movie ended you talked for a few more minutes until Bucky suddenly said.

“I think I’m heading to my room, I’m already tired.” He said and looked at Steve.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Okay, goodnight, Grandpas.” Natasha said, making the others laugh while Bucky and Steve looked at her annoyed. Before Bucky left the room, he winked at you. Natasha and Wanda stayed for a few minutes and then decided to leave as well. So, now you were alone with Yelena.

“Do you want to watch something?” She asked and you nodded, but then had to think about what Bucky had said. Now was the opportunity to tell Yelena.

“Well, actually there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.”

“Of course, go for it.” She said but sounded a little nervous.

“Well, how do I start…” You took a deep breath and Yelena smiled softly at you.

“Yelena, I like you a lot and not just as a friend. My day always gets better when I see you…you mean so much to me.”

“Oh, Y/n, I can’t believe you’re saying that because I feel the same way about you.” She said, making you smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was just too shy to tell you and wasn’t sure if you feel the same way, especially because of my past.” Yelena said, looking away for a second, but then back at you.

“Hey, I know you’ve been through a lot and that doesn’t change anything. I love you for who you are.”

“Thank you for saying that, it means so much to me.”

“So, what are we doing on our first date?” You asked and her smile started to grow, and she spoke, “I think I already have an idea.”

You were so glad that Yelena feels the same way and you can’t wait to see what idea she has for your first date.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @yelenasdiary | @youralphawolf72 | @buckys-wintersoldier

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romanoffshouse · 1 year

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Hiii

Can I request a moodboard? Night in with Yelena

Thank youuu

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it!

Night in with Yelena Belova

Yelena Belova Moodboards Moodboard Masterlist

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena x reader #yelena x you #yelena belova fluff #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu fandom #yelena belova moodboard #marvel moodboard #moodboard #hawkeye the series #white widow #black widow

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loomontoia · 1 year

Text

Random Yelena posts

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

Note

yelena Belova + bakery au

Pairing: Yelena Belova x g/n reader

Word Count: 510 words.

Summary: You keep coming back to the same bakery just to steal a glance from the pretty baker.

Warnings: swearing, accidents.

Author’s Note: fourth ask for today :), more to come tomorrow, hope you like! this very humorous, I guess. Yelena is the baker!

Main Masterlist ・❥・Yelena Belova Masterlist

You sit behind the glass door trying to glance inside and see if your favorite baker is working this morning. Several minutes pass and customers look at you weirdly when they try to get inside the store but lowkey you are grateful for them because it means if there's a rush she must have to get in the front as well.

There is, the blonde woman is coming to the front holding a big tray filled with cookies and you squeal when you see her. Trying to cover your mouth and your sound with your hand accidentally falling on the floor and tripping inside the bushes.

"Miss, are you okay?" One of the customers, an old man comes out to your air followed by the cute baker who still wore her apron and tilted her head as she saw you.

"Y/N, right? Are you alright?"

Together they help you get up and you babble tons of thank yous together, excusing yourself for slipping, blaming it on the weather even though it hadn't rained for days now.

"Oh, perhaps is it a concussion? Did you hit your head?" The old man asks you looking at you with concern and Yelena is narrowing her eyebrows together. You just happen to show up way too often, and her co-workers had told you that you had been inquiring about her and when she wasn't in, you'd just leave. Your plan today was to finally ask her out but looks like today was already failing you.

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine. Really, it's no problem, I'll just head home, yeah, that's what I should do." You mumble looking at yourself and fixing your jacket. The embarrassment was getting too much for you to handle.

"Cookie for your troubles?" Her voice startled you, her deep foreign accent heavy on her tongue.

"You know, came here for cookies, bad to leave without."

You slowly nod your head and the old man holds the door for you so you can both walk inside. She goes behind the counter and fixes a box.

"You like chocolate chip?"

"Yes." You nod looking at her. She puts a couple inside the box with a scoop.

"Dark chocolate?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Oat?"

"Of course."

"Snickerdoodle?"

"Not really."

"Bad cinnamon. Alright, mocha?"

"Yes."

"Macadamia?"

"My favorite."

"Interesting taste you got."

She wraps the box up with a ribbon and hands it to you with a smile.

"All good."

"I should pay-"

"No, no need." She cuts you off and scoffs. "Come back, today at six pm. Tell me why you slipped?"

You look at her with a shock on your face. Has she seen right through you?

"Say yes." She looks at you. "It's the kind thing to do."

"Ah yes, yes. I'll come, yes. Goodbye, yes." You shake your head before jolting your whole body rushing to the door, hitting your head on the way to the glass door, and then immediately running off to the street. Truly an embarrassing day.

Yelena stays and stares at your figure hoping you'd make it alive.

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months

Text

Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

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hyunsvngs · 10 months

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 10.6k words

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses, no use of y/n, sickeningly sweet petnames, ANGST, fluff!!, smut warnings under the cut

synopsis: your childhood best friend, the prince lee felix, is due to be betrothed in an arranged marriage organised by his mother. the problem is, you’re her top choice - and you’re also secretly madly in love with him.

a/n: our first fic on the blog!! if anyone has any questions or any thoughts to share with me please feel free. this fic is my baby and i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dryhumping, use of petnames in bed, no actual sex!!, soft cutie felix except nsfw!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd loved Lee Felix since the day you met him.

Of course, your brain had always convinced you that he was unattainable. You weren't without status, so to speak - your mother was famously known as the Queen's lady-in-waiting, and it was through her job that you'd had the pleasure of meeting the two princes, Felix and his elder brother Chris. You and Felix had clicked instantly. You had no other siblings yourself, and your father had died in the army when you were a baby, leaving your mother widowed and you without one of your intended parental figures.

Felix had taken that all in his stride, though. The day he met you he stumbled up to you with the grace of Bambi's first movement on ice, all short chubby limbs flailing everywhere and eyes formed in crescent moons with the size of his smile. Chris had taken less interest in you. Although polite, he was three years older than the both of you and already had his own group of friends, but you and Felix hadn't even started formal education yet - and you were inseparable as soon as you met. You were enchanted by him, he had been your first crush, and your first love once you were old enough to understand what that was.

You began your life as a shy, timid little girl, just as clumsy as your best friend. Your knobbly knees were always bruised and scarred, peeking out from the tops of your white knee socks and covered in whatever bandages Felix could find to wrap around you. Felix had brought you out of your shell, introduced you to some of his other 'friends' - at the start, they were just kids with similar status to him, but they really did form a tight knit group eventually. Now, you were known to always be by the side of Felix and his group, getting up to whatever secret debauchery you could manage that wouldn't risk any of your positions in society. Your mother, thankfully, had turned a blind eye to most of it, and the Queen was always too occupied to notice.

When you were younger, you and Felix loved to go out gallivanting. You'd stumble to the nearest beach, bags of towels and books in your canvas bags and giggle as you threw them on the sand. You had some form of an unofficial book club, just the two of you. You saw him practically all day everyday, but you'd both discussed and had decided to designate a Saturday afternoon to discuss whatever books you'd found in the extensive palace library and you both avoided any and all kinds of book talk on any other day in the week. The beach had become your place to gush over whatever literature had caught your attention, with the calming waves of the sea crashing behind you and the tweeting of whatever birds had made an appearance that day.

Now, though, you were both of age. You were both twenty one, and that meant that marriage was around the corner for Felix. He'd been so busy lately, you'd barely had the chance to see him. You took upon completing mundane tasks of your own, helping your mother with anything the Queen asked for (much to her polite gratitude, but she definitely knew why you were sulking around), and sometimes you even helped the cooks make food for the whole palace. Felix had teased you relentlessly once he'd seen you in your white frilly apron and you'd had to chase him out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon.

It was weird not having your best friend around so much. Chris was already married, being the heir to the throne, despite the fact there were rumours he would abdicate to Felix. Felix hadn't told you anything about that, and you were sure he would have. Even Chris leaving had left a hole in your heart - no more seeing his muscly eye-candy group of friends around. Well, they still showed up uninvited sometimes. You were pretty sure Changbin and Jisung were never actually invited, not even by Chris, but they lingered around him like they were his little brothers, too.

"Hey, you've been making that daisy chain for like, twenty years," A familiar giggle chimed from above you, and you looked up. Ah yes, your Prince. You'd gotten so lost in memories that you'd been wasting a Saturday afternoon with him. Fuck, you're such an idiot. Felix was looking down at you in your position in his lap, your head nestled on top of his crossed legs in the dress slacks he was supposed to wear everyday. He was wearing a white silk shirt on top of it, billowing in the summer breeze, but the top two buttons were still undone due to the heat of the sun. The summer always made your Prince's freckles shine more on his tan skin, the fawn dots even extending to the exposed skin on his chest. Needless to say, you waited impatiently for the hot season to come around every year. His teeth were gleaming in his smile, radiating sunshine and the gleam bouncing off of the bleach blonde mullet he'd managed to convince his mother to let him have.

You had to deflect. He couldn't know you were upset at not seeing him, although you were nearly certain he must have worked it out already. You shrugged dismissively, looking back at the daisy chain in your hands. Your thumbnails were stained with green from the plant stems, but you were still determined to finish it. You were making it for him, as a crown, because you knew he'd keep it until the flowers wilted, and then he'd get the flowers pressed and he'd put them in his scrapbook. He was such a good friend. His scrapbook was full of mementos of the two of you, even sometimes extending to the whole group - you and Felix, your friends, and Chris and his friends. It was mostly full of just the two of you, though.

"Sorry, Lixie. I guess I'm not all there today. Sorry," You mumbled. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying about Rochester and how he's a possessive asshole- no, you know what, that's not important. What's on your mind, sugarplum?" The cheesy nickname worked exactly how he intended it to, making you giggle and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nudged his tummy softly with your elbow, the silk brushing against your skin and making goosebumps rise on your arms. Felix dog-eared the page of the book that he was reading from and shut it softly, placing it beside you both. It was one habit of Felix's that you absolutely hated - like, how could he sleep with a clear conscience knowing that he had creased the delicate pages of so many classics? You'd given him so many bookmarks over the years, even personalised ones that you'd crafted in your spare time with both of your names on, but he always lost them or claimed he'd forgotten them in your book club outings. He leaned back on his palms, smiling down at you fondly. You shifted, turning slightly to see him better. You felt the soft cotton of the navy and white plaid picnic blanket brush against the bottom of your bare legs. You weren't really allowed to wear short skirts, or low cut tops, but on a summer's day like this you were permitted to wear a knee length skirt, so long as it was a thick fabric. Nothing too revealing was allowed.

You hummed in response to him, finding him still staring at you. "You want me to be honest, Pixie?"

Felix giggled at his own cheesy nickname, then nodded eagerly, strands of hair falling over his face before he pushed them back. His forehead had a thin sheen of sweat adorning it. "I always want you to be honest with me."

You ignored the butterflies causing a storm in your stomach over the statement. He was so understanding, so sweet - he always had been, like when he would bandage up your scraped knees or comfort you when something went wrong in your favourite TV show. He was even understanding during one of your many nights of debauchery, when you'd all been playing Seven Minutes in Heaven like the horny teenagers you were and you'd been picked to go in with Felix. You'd been bright red, stuttering and giggling nervously about how you'd never had your first kiss and Felix understood, rubbing your arm softly with his dainty hand and insisting you didn't have to do anything that you weren't ready for. You were so embarrassed, but he made you feel so at ease, and you'd both sat in the storage closet and gossiped about Chris instead.

That was the moment you'd fallen in love with him, you think. You were fifteen.

"I'm worried," You admitted, finally letting the flower chain drop from your fingertips and onto your tummy. Felix instantly shot up. His smile had fallen, and he was now looking at you with a concerned look, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. The butterflies started fluttering even faster, if it was possible. You looked up into his brown eyes, and you looked at his freckles, thinking about the many times you'd tried to count every single one. This was your best friend. This was the love of your life. Your Prince, as you affectionately called him in your head. You could be honest with him. If you couldn't, who could you be truthful with? "I'm worried because I know you're getting married soon. We barely see each other as it is anymore, and I miss you, to be honest. It will be soon, won't it?"

Felix hummed. He nodded thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the daisy chain on your tummy. You saw a small smile at the end of his lips as his fingers brushed over it. He knew it was for him. He'd made you many over the years, too, and you'd kept them in your own scrapbook, despite it being much emptier than his. "It will be soon. My mother is picking the right candidate at the moment. But..."

You furrowed your eyebrows. He hadn't looked back at you, still gazing at the daisy chain and beginning to rub reassuring circles on your side. "... But?"

The smile finally formed on his lips. "You do realise you're her top option, right?"

You shot up from his lap, eyes widening. Felix bit his lip, holding in a laugh. He was laughing at you, that bastard, but it did make sense. You were the Queen's favourite, and she knew how close you and Felix were. She wasn't a nasty or a ruthless Queen. She was a people person, she always donated money to charity and the homeless rating in your country was literally almost zero. She'd done so much for people since she was in power, and she never cared about status - not that it had ever affected you, but she did treat everyone as her equals. She was like Felix in that way, a sweetheart, and she always permitted you and Felix to go on journeys wherever you wanted, so long as you kept safe and there was a guard in the area, just in case. There was one in the meadow with you now, but you couldn't even see them from where you were sitting. She was just... so cool, down to earth. She understood what it was like to be young, within reason.

You were flustered. Your brain had instantly gone to thinking of getting married to Felix, spending nights with him but not in the way you used to, and even... Well, you had to consummate the marriage, didn't you? You were extremely inexperienced in that department, save for a few drunken childish kisses with Chris' friend Changbin when you were just a bit younger, but you still found your mind racing and going through your deepest, darkest fantasies. Fantasies that you would never entertain outside of shoving a hand down your underwear in your bed at night and whining into the satin pillows. You had to hide that you were thinking about that, what the fuck is wrong with you? Time to deflect.

"Well, she does love me," You said boldly. Felix shook his head, punching you in the arm, perhaps a bit harder than he meant to because you let out a hiss and punched him back too hard, in the leg. His smile dropped, groaning and grabbing the spot on his shin where you'd hit him. "But, would you be okay with that, Lixie? It's... me. We'd be like... you know."

"Married? Well, yeah," Felix laughed, still holding his leg. You sighed, giving him a flat look. You needed to keep yourself occupied, so you picked up the daisy chain on the blanket and started to fiddle with it again, threading it through with nimble fingers. Felix finally let go of his leg, throwing himself onto his side so he was lying down on the blanket and facing you. He'd started to fiddle with the cover of the book. Another thing you were getting prepared to tell him off about. "I know what you mean. Honestly, though? I can't think of anyone better to do it with," You felt yourself suppressing a smile at his words, said lowly in that deep voice of his. Everytime he said something like that, your brain instantly went to shit, he liked me back, and you couldn't have that showing on your face when you knew deep down that wasn't the truth. He was unattainable- no, wait, now he wasn't that unattainable, now that you've actually stopped being angsty and depressing and actually thought about it. "I mean, you are my best friend, sugarplum."

You let out a fake laugh at his use of that stupid nickname again, and it seemed to placate him. Best friend. Yeah. Because one thing you hadn't thought about during your insane train of thought, one thing you had always considered and had been the main factor in not confessing to him, was that you couldn't risk ruining the friendship you had built up with him for sixteen years.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Unattainable. He was unattainable. You felt yourself mulling over that thought over and over as you paced in your bedchambers, in your silly Disney pyjamas that now barely fit you and you would never let anyone see. You had no one you could even talk to about this. It was clearly royal intel, secret information, and the only person you could have possibly talked to now never comes around anymore because Chris decided to get fucking married and now spends most of his time boning his wife for an heir. Or just because he likes boning her, you weren't sure, but Felix told you that he'd heard enough through the walls to know that boning was definitely occuring every night. Anyway, Changbin wasn't around much anymore, and he was your top confidant - bar Felix.

You liked living in the palace, but would you like living there as a Princess? Well, fuck yeah, obviously. It was like something out of The Princess Diaries, one of your favourite films which you and Felix had watched over and over. He hated it. You had a good, solid reputation. You were a high member of society due to your mother's job, and you and your mother were even placed on the royal side of the palace for your living quarters. You had a massive bedroom, an extravagant en suite with a relaxing bathtub and a sitting room with a huge TV that you and your mother always curled up in front of. How could it even get any better? You had seen Felix's room, when you were younger, but it kind of became unspokenly forbidden when you got to your teenage years, lest something gets out of hand. You understood it, actually. You'd been going through enough hormones to know that you had definitely come dangerously close to propositioning him a few times.

You had propositioned Changbin, obviously. You two had your first kisses together, and also a few drunken kisses, but you'd ended up as just friends. He was probably the only one who knew about your feelings for Felix, and he admitted you weren't his type anyway. You were sure he was in love with Felix's friend, Hyunjin, but you never commented on the way he looked at Hyunjin like he'd hung the stars in the sky. You couldn't really say anything either, knowing full well that you looked at Felix the same.

You needed to speak to Changbin. The unbearable amount of anxiety at not knowing was mounting in you. But it hit you, then, in the middle of your pacing and chewing on your thumbnail. You looked at the copy of Jane Eyre that Felix had given you, placed on your bed. Your mother knew. She had to have known you were a choice, surely, and she hadn't even told you?

You shook your head, resuming pacing. You couldn't blame her. Felix wasn't even meant to tell you. It made sense, though - you'd received pretty much the same education as a royal, and you and Felix were inseparable. You knew you had the etiquette, the social skills (thanks to Felix). You were pretty much a Princess without being a Princess. It had to be you, right?

Did you want it to be you?

You threw yourself onto your bed, wrapping the soft pillow around your head and screaming incoherently into the fabric. It didn't help. Who were the other choices? You thought of other girls who lingered around the palace, ones that had definitely had crushes on your Prince growing up and had given him fleeting glances with blushed cheeks and an agape mouth. None of their names even came to mind. Maybe a Princess from another country, for a marriage of creating alliances? You could see the Queen considering that. She was always very logical, but you also knew she had her son's best interests in mind. Chris had married a Princess from a different Kingdom, actually, but his marriage wasn't even arranged. He'd been in love with her since they were teenagers, and they could only meet once or twice a year in arranged legal meetings. You remember them having perhaps not so quiet dates together. Everyone knew, and when they announced their engagement everyone was happy but not surprised. Felix had taken too long to find a wife, and even the thoughtful Queen couldn't let that slide. People were asking questions, personal questions about his demeanour and whether he was off putting, and she couldn't deflect the questions for much longer.

You hadn't even noticed you'd drifted off, and you woke up to your face still smushed in the pillow. You immediately inhaled sharply upon waking up, taking in the light outside. You'd drooled all over your pillow, leaving a huge wet patch and your hair was knotted every which way, making you look like you'd been dragged backwards down the hedge. Damn. Thinking too hard has taken its toll on you, really.

A knock on the door made you spring up from your bed, smoothing down your hair with one hand, before another three knocks came in succession and you paused your movements. It was yours and your mother's secret knock - one knock, then three quick ones after. She'd seen you in worse states. Much worse states, even hungover states that you'd cried over while she held a bucket to your head and had promised to keep it a secret. You padded over to the door, opening it slightly just to make sure it was in fact, her. It was, obviously. Not even Felix knew your secret knock.

She came in and sat on the big armchair in front of the fire. Neither of you had said anything. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands. She finally looked at you, a kind look on her face.

"I have two things to say," She smiled. You loosened up a bit, realising that it was just your mother. She'd always been stuck by you. It had been only the two of you, after all. It was all you knew. You nodded, rushing over to sit cross legged in front of her like a child. "First of all, the Queen would like to meet with you in an hour. Second of all, you're seriously still wearing those Dumbo pyjamas? The legs aren't even long enough anymore, I can see your knees, they're meant to be trousers not shorts-"

You blinked owlishly. Her rant went in through one ear and out the other, before she realised you weren't listening. She sighed. You blinked again, pulling the ends of your pyjama trousers absentmindedly to try and make them longer. "The Queen... wants to meet with me?"

Your mother nodded. She wasn't giving anything away by her face, but she definitely knew. She knew. She knew what you were going to be told. God, why couldn't she just ignore her job duties for once and be a fucking mother? You chided yourself mentally, she was a great mother. But you were frustrated. You needed to know now, not in an hour!

"Just... just me, and her?" You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Your mother shook her head, fingernails picking at a loose thread on her skirt. She was avoiding eye contact. What the fuck is going on?

Oh God, it's not you, is it? Fuck.

"Felix will be there," Your mother stated. She jumped up sharply. "I'll help you pick an outfit, dear. Come." She beckoned you to the armoire in the corner and you followed dutifully.

Your mother began to flick through pieces of fabric hanging off of hangers, and you tried to ignore the anxiety now mounting again in the pit of your stomach.

You so badly wanted it to be you. Just for once, you wanted to be selfish.

An hour later, on the dot, you stood outside the main hall. It was where everyone - royalty and staff alike - ate food together. That was, again, one of the kind Queen's rules. It was also where her throne was, where she had meetings with people. You'd never been on the receiving end of such a formal meeting, but one of the Queen's maids had come and collected you from your room five minutes before the allocated time. You'd managed to run a brush through your hair, thank God, and your mother had put you in a baby blue pinafore dress that came down to mid-knee on top of a white long sleeved turtleneck. The turtleneck was far too warm for the weather, but you knew the Queen would appreciate the conservative outfit. You stared down at the Mary Jane's on your feet.

You shut your eyes, trying to control your breathing, before realising you really couldn't afford to be late. Maybe you'd fucked up and done something wrong. You raised your hand, knocking softly on the door, but it swung open with the small force of your knock. The Queen sat on her throne, flipping through the pages of a book. Your Prince stood behind her, leaning over the throne, pointing at certain pages and giggling. She was smiling fondly at the pages, rubbing her fingertips over certain ones and mumbling statements to her son. She'd began to age slightly, with wrinkles adorning her eyes and mouth, but she didn't look any less beautiful. She had long, dark hair and freckles, just like Felix, but her smile was as kind as Chris'.

Oh? They seemed happy, at least.

You cleared your throat. The Queen, her Majesty, looked up at you and smiled acknowledgingly, shutting the book on her lap. She beckoned for you to come in and you did a small curtsy before shuffling into the lavish room. You could smell the kitchen from here, and you knew the cooks were whipping up something fierce by the enticing smell of it. You hadn't had time to have breakfast, because you'd slept in, and lunch was still around two hours away. You hoped your stomach wouldn't grumble too loud as you eventually approached the throne.

Felix smiled at you. He was wearing a similar pair of dress slacks to yesterday, but this time his silk shirt was a baby blue, the Kingdom's colours. A silver chain rested on his neck and you took note of the earrings dangling from his ears - another impulse decision you'd both done when you were younger. You know Felix had gotten in trouble for it at first, but the Queen seemed to be buying him a lot of expensive earrings lately. She knew what it was like to be young, after all. You smiled back awkwardly, rubbing your sweaty hands on your pinafore. It was then you realised you were in the Kingdom's colours too. Very patriotic of your mother.

"You want some tea, sugarplum?" Felix's voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you winced at the nickname. In front of his mother? In front of the Queen? Seriously? Your eyes seemed to convey a similar message to him, a flat glare, but he simply giggled. You saw him pouring from a teapot into a dainty teacup, and reverted your eyes to the Queen. She was still looking down at the book in her lap, and you looked down at it in confusion.

It was the scrapbook Felix made for the two of you. It was full of pictures from when you were younger to now, full of cinema tickets from secret outings and full of pressed flowers. Some of your favourite book quotes had even made it into there, scrawled in both of your handwritings. Even your school graduation pictures were in there. You'd been sent to a private school for the upper society, obviously, but you still had a normal graduation - albeit small, and full of snobby people.

"Thank you for meeting me, your Majesty," You were babbling in awkwardness. Oh, God. It was like word vomit, you couldn't stop it. "I'm really glad to meet with you today. I'm just wondering, have I done something wrong? You never ask to meet me."

The Queen laughed, her eyes forming crescent moons exactly the same as Felix's. Felix appeared at your side then, handing you a small teapot with what looked like peach tea in it. Your favourite, because of course, your Prince remembers that. You awkwardly shifted on one foot to the other, taking small sips of the tea to try and cool your nerves and almost screaming because it was still scalding hot. Felix was trying to hold in a laugh beside you, you could tell without even looking at him. Bastard.

"You haven't done anything wrong, sweetheart," The Queen's voice was soft, and she was now looking at you, taking in your outfit. She nodded approvingly. "You look lovely, very sophisticated. I believe I've made the right choice."

Your cheeks burned red. No. Fucking. Way. "T-The right choice? Do you mean...?"

The Queen beckoned over one of her staff members and they scurried over in a similar manner to the way your mother would have done. They placed a box in her hands, a small black velvet box that looked like it could be opened seamlessly. A... ring box? "I apologise, sweetheart. I've kept you in the dark a little bit with all of this. Would you bring her a chair, dear? A comfortable one."

The staff member scuttled over to grab a small chair with a red pillow on top of it and placed it behind you. You looked to your left side, still in shock, and the staff member simply smiled and motioned to the chair. You muttered a thanks in acknowledgement and sat on the pillow. Damn, the chair was comfortable. Felix was still standing, watching you hold your teacup awkwardly in a sweaty hand. He looked like he was about to die of laughter. God, you hated him so much, but you also really didn't. He just loved to tease you.

Maybe he would in bed, too-

"So, as you probably know, our favourite boy hasn't found someone to court yet," The Queen began speaking once you were sat down. Felix groaned, and his mother simply laughed. "Hush, now, sweetheart."

"Mum, you said you wouldn't be mean-"

Their dynamics always amazed you. She took the piss out of him, to put it quite literally, but in such an eloquent manner it could be easily missed as them having a difficult relationship. They didn't. He was a mummy's boy, through and through. It was one of the things you loved about him. You could tell a lot about a man from the way he treated his mother.

"Felix, hush now," She admonished again, but the smile on her face didn't leave. Felix mumbled something and then went back over to the side to fiddle with the teapots. Good, he should feel awkward. You looked at her outfit, beautiful in an ornate sense, pearl clips pinning her long, dark hair up so you could see the freckles on her face that matched your Prince. "I took it upon myself to find Felix a bride. I hope you don't think I'm cruel for doing so, I do have my baby's best interests in mind."

Felix groaned, putting his face in his hands. "'M not a baby-"

"You always will be to me, sweetheart. But it was time to get you courting, to get you married. I couldn't do that when you're always gallivanting discussing books with this one now, could I?" Your cheeks burned. You started to stutter out an apology, but she held up a hand to stop you. "Nonsense, sweetheart. Your friendship is one I've always admired. You're inseparable, and it is lovely to see you both so happy. You know that I value your mother highly, also."

You nodded, grinning. You felt a bit more at ease at the praise. The tea had also cooled down slightly too, so you started to sip it again, ignoring the way Felix was intently watching you with an evil smile to see if you'd burn your tongue again.

"Then, I thought about it. I thought, well, I do value your mother extremely highly, and you've been very helpful as of late. Obviously, that is because this one isn't taking up all of your time again," She nodded her head towards Felix. It was such an informal motion that you laughed in shock, and she giggled, a chiming similar to Felix's laugh that shouldn't have come from a middle aged woman who was literally the top of society. You still weren't completely getting at what she was saying, but you were enjoying the conversation. It was just praise, praise, praise. Amazing. "So, I want to offer you something. I want you to know you can decline, and you and your mother will remain here in your current roles. It would make me very happy, however, if you agreed to marry Felix."

You blinked. Okay, yeah, you kind of knew that's what she was getting at, but still - coming out of her mouth you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Your eyes flitted to Felix, who was simply nodding at you in encouragement, eyes widened. He... what, had he convinced her with that scrapbook? He wanted to marry you? Ugh, he probably just wanted to marry you so he didn't have to marry someone he didn't know. He doesn't even know you like him like that. But... a little part of you wanted to be selfish. You scratch his back by not letting him marry someone he's not close with, and he scratches yours by at least pretending to be in love with you. Could you deal with that, though? The pretending?

You nodded in acknowledgement at what the Queen said, looking at your tea again. The tea leaves were floating around in the liquid, mocking you, as if saying you were so fucking dumb. Of course you were going to say yes. "Um... may I ask, your Majesty, what would happen if I said no?"

You refused to look at Felix. The Queen hummed, looking down at the box in her lap. Oh, that was a ring box, definitely. Funny, in a weird way. "Well, this way, if you got married, you'd be able to spend a lot of time together. You'd see each other a lot. You'd be happy. If you decline... I'd have to find someone else for him to-"

"I'll do it," You grimaced at cutting the Queen off, but you couldn't even bear to think of him with someone else. Instead of chiding you, she beamed from ear to ear, and Felix rushed over to you.

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in for a hug. He felt so soft, all silk and soft skin, but you knew what was underneath that shirt. You'd seen it, and now you were definitely going to see everything else. He smelled of lavender and orange blossom, that expensive perfume he's always spraying on himself, but you could smell notes of the flowers in the meadow that were still left on his skin from yesterday.

Okay, yeah, you could get used to this.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't get a proper engagement, but that was alright. You'd been given the ring pretty much straight away after your meeting, and when you'd got back to your room after lunch your mother was still there, but now she was gushing, almost bouncing off the walls.

The ring was beautiful. Even using that adjective felt like an understatement. It was clearly an heirloom, passed through generations. The gem in the middle was blue tourmaline, and whilst it matched the Kingdom's colour it was extremely rare - or so you thought, you weren't sure - and it was surrounded by a cluster of diamonds and placed on a thin gold band. You'd always dreamed of getting engaged, even letting yourself think about getting engaged to Felix sometimes, when you were feeling particularly selfish. You always thought it would happen on the meadow, or on your guys' beach that you'd had less time to go to these days because it was further out. You didn't think you wanted it to be pretty lavish, just you two, so you weren't that angry about just being given the ring and told to prepare for an outing with Felix later on. He was your safe place, and you did want to talk privately about the engagement, so you weren't too angry.

You thought about it a lot, looking down at the gem glinting in the light. Your mother had left, and you were now just sitting at your vanity staring at your own hand. The public knew who you were. They knew you were Prince Felix's best friend, and more than a few people had deemed you two as soulmates, people from a similar status who were bound to fall in love and get married. Now, it just felt very one sided. You knew you were in love with Felix, and you'd agreed to the marriage with little thought, but now you felt a bit anxious. How were you going to pretend not to love him when you had to sleep next to him every night? Or when you had to go on dates with him? The engagement would be formally announced tomorrow, with the outing tonight being specifically for you to wear the ring in the public's eye and for you two to dial up the romance and get people speculating. The engagement party was planned to take place tomorrow night after the announcement, with everyone important there.

It was a beautiful ring. You just weren't sure you could pretend any more. You were sick of pretending to just view him as a friend.

When the night rolled by, you'd dressed in something a bit cosier - not too warm, because the nights weren't getting cold much anymore. You'd switched your pinafore and long sleeve for a thin knitted jumper and some long linen trousers, throwing a long but light jacket on top. You had to look sophisticated, respectful even. You deemed you looked alright after tucking the jumper into the trousers and adorning a belt, and when you swung the door open to your room, Felix was stood there.

He'd also put on a thin jumper in lieu of his thin billowing silk shirts, but he still looked just as good in the blue cable knit staring you in the eyes. He'd even put on a long coat just like yours. It was like you were matching, but you hadn't intended to. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and you swore you'd never seen him look happier, not even when you'd moan in delight eating his homemade brownies or when you'd go sick after eating too many of said brownies because they were too good. His hair was neatly styled, pulled back in a stylish half up-half down ponytail, with a few strands dangling in his face.

"Hey, sugarplum," He spoke, voice low. You groaned, pushing him out of the doorway and leaving the room, shutting the door behind you. He laughed in delight at your annoyance and linked arms with you. It was then you noticed he had a flower in his hand - just one stem, but the meaning was enough to almost make you cry.

"Oh my God, Felix, is that-"

"Baby's breath," He unlinked his arm with you, passing the stem to you. When you two were younger, you'd been entranced by the baby's breath growing in your meadow and you'd both been determined it was the work of fairies. It was too beautiful to be normal, and you and Felix had collected them endlessly until there was basically none left. You called them fairy flowers, and that's sort of where Felix's nickname had come from - your mother had called him Pixie affectionately when he'd revealed that he really thought these flowers were part of a fairy's little garden. He pretended to hate it, but you know he secretly loved it when you called him that. Chris had told you.

"You remembered. We used to call them fairy flowers," You brushed your hand over the flower, grinning at the softness. Felix chuckled, whispering a 'yeah'. He quickly pinched the flower from you again, tucking it behind your ear. You quite literally swooned, smiling up at his own beaming face. It got a bit awkward for you then though, because you couldn't even pretend not to be in love with him now, before you're even married. You found yourself in a state of word vomit again. "Jeez, dial down the PDA, Romeo. We're not even outside yet."

You walked off, leaving Felix trailing after you laughing at your words. "'Jeez'? What are you, a frat boy? You need to stop reading fanfictions, you know," He slung his arm around your waist, leading you out of the palace grounds. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him, but you leaned in closer to his touch. Tonight was meant to just be a late night walk, full of holding hands and perhaps acting like normal people getting some street food from a dodgy merchant that would give you a bad tummy for a few days. Once you'd left the ornate gates, with one of the guards waving you both goodbye, you started to walk down the street and into the busier part of town. The palace wasn't too far from the hustle and bustle of the city, because again, the Queen apparently loved to be normal. People came to the palace all the time and took pictures and whatnot, but they were never allowed into the actual building. That was too far, and a danger to security.

You both began to walk, feeling the much cooler breeze blow through your hair and rattle the petals upon your ear. It was a bit ticklish, but he'd put it there, so it was staying there. His arm stayed around your waist, but it was comforting. You'd done stuff like this a million times. You were both extremely affectionate and loved touch anyway, so it wasn't strange. Of course, it felt different. You were engaged to him now. You could like... kiss, and stuff. You felt like a high school girl kicking her legs and twirling her hair over her crush, but you decided you were going to allow it because you were still young, and still yet to have a lot of your firsts with someone.

Once you got to a street where there were a few people milling around, Felix motioned to a wooden bench on the side of the path. Overgrown moss and bushes wrapped around it, but it still looked quite cute. "Wanna sit down here for a bit? I think we should probably have a chat, you know. About everything," When you looked at him, he looked embarrassed for once, strange given his usual brazen nature. You found yourself wanting to comfort him, so you nodded, sitting down on the bench and smoothing your trousers down. He sat next to you, turning to face you on the bench and fiddling with the cuffs of his coat.

"Felix, are you okay about marrying me?" You blurted out. "I mean, I know you probably don't want to marry anyone else, but you won't even get the chance to try to get to know everyone. You're stuck with me."

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. His head snapped up to you. "Um, what the fuck? You're my best friend. I am absolutely okay with getting married to you."

Your chest heaved. You felt reassured, but still not completely relieved. "But... Lixie. We'll have to kiss. And we'll be sharing a bed. You know we have to consummate the marriage, right?"

There was that smirk on his face again. You regretted ever saying anything. "You've been thinking about having sex with me?"

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. You heard Felix chuckling next to you, his shoulders shaking the whole rickety bench. You finally looked up at him, punching him in the leg again. His laughter ceased as he yelped. Good, bastard. "You know what I mean, Lix. We are literally going to have to, or the marriage won't be like, real. Or something, I don't know."

"You do know, you know everything. You're smarter than me," Felix chided you. He sighed, leaning to put his head on your shoulder. "What are you actually worried about? Tell me."

"It's just..." You couldn't say it. But maybe you could, and phrase it differently. A conditional question, to answer the real question inside of you. "What if we fell in love?"

Felix hummed, shutting his eyes softly. "Then everyone would have been right about us."

"Y-You... you wouldn't mind it? What about our friendship?"

He rubbed his cheek against you comfortingly. "It would only be made better, sugarplum," He pulled back, grinning at you. Oh no. That smile meant a Dumb Felix comment was incoming. "Plus, I know you think I'm smoking hot, so-"

"Felix!" You whined. He stuck his tongue out at you cheekily, making you roll your eyes. You turned away from him, staring ahead at a large tree on the other side of the path.

"I mean, we are compatible. Would it be so bad?" He sounded insecure now. You looked at him. His eyes were gleaming from the moonlight, and he did look really nervous. Perhaps... he wants to know if you'd hate him if either of you caught feelings. He wants to know if you think it would ruin your friendship. Honestly? After that conversation, you didn't. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. He stuck his tongue out again, trying to lighten the mood, and you did it back. You both had a fit of giggles afterwards, hitting each other while laughing like you always do.

Then, you saw it. A distinctive flash of a camera behind Felix, towards the end of the path. Oh, yeah, you're meant to be like, loving it up right now. You grabbed Felix's arm, pulling him in.

"Wh- wha-"

You brought his ear to your mouth, looking down at it and whispering. "There's a reporter taking pictures behind you. Don't look, but we should probably be more affectionate."

Felix pulled away, nodding solemnly. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he spoke, then a lightbulb going off. "Kiss me."

"H- Huh?!"

"Or, I'll kiss you, I don't mind. But that would really prove a point, wouldn't it? So caught up in each other that we forget royal etiquette?" He'd leaned back more comfortably on the bench, slinging an arm behind you. His fingertips were dancing up your shoulder as you were turned to face him, faces only inches apart. You licked your lips. He licked his own. The flash appeared again. Oh, the reporter liked that.

"Felix... I don't know-"

"I know it's not your first kiss, sugarplum. Can't back out of kissing me now," You internally groaned at the mention of him knowing what you and Changbin had done. Fuck Changbin, stupid blabbermouth. Felix was smirking, looking at you.

"Fuck it. As long as it won't be awkward?"

"We're gonna have to kiss a lot more, may as well kiss now," He shrugged. You shrugged. He was right. Eventually, you nodded. His fingertips carried on tracing shapes on your shoulder - you managed to make out a flower, a heart, maybe even a cat's head. Or a dog's head, you weren't sure. His other hand went up to your chin, fingertips coming to lift your head up to be closer to him once again. His eyes went to yours, a silent question in those deep brown eyes, and you nodded in response.

With that, you were being kissed by your first love. Your one sided love, to be precise, but you actually couldn't find it in you to care. You didn't even realise the camera flashing repeatedly as you pressed your lips against his, a chaste but open mouthed kiss. His lips were extremely soft, and you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned in to get more. He obliged, hand now going to the back of your head to bring you in further. You whimpered at the dominance the grab showed, and he let out a sharp breath of air through his freckled nose in response. You wanted more, so much more. Your lips pressed against each other over and over, a little messy but you liked it like that. Just as you tried to get your tongue against his, he gently pulled away, with one more small peck to your nose.

You were embarrassed when you realised you'd tried to follow him for more kisses. You quickly avoided eye contact, and Felix elbowed you.

"Look at me!" He whined for attention. Ah yeah, same old Felix. You'd forgotten what he was like in that ten second kiss. He still had issues with wanting to be the centre of attention. You looked at him awkwardly, fists clenched in your sweaty palms. You almost felt bad the beautiful ring had to live there. Once you'd looked at him, his sad face fell and he smirked. "Good, huh?"

"W-Was I... good? I've only ever kissed Changbin," You admitted, grimacing. Felix sat up sharply, putting a hand on your knee. You almost flinched away to try and sedate your own sexual desires, but he would get suspicious.

"Uhhh, yes! It was good, I really enjoyed that. Thank you for doing that for me," Felix comforted. When you nodded in response, he grabbed your chin again and placed another peck on your lips. "I... honestly? I kind of wouldn't mind kissing you again."

The boy's boldness shocked you everyday, and you'd known him for sixteen years. "For... for practice, right? When we're married, we're gonna have to do it loads, so-"

"Yeah, yeah, one hundred percent. For practice," Felix agreed. He was nodding eagerly. He suddenly shifted, looking down at the watch on his wrist. "Aw, shit. We should probably head back. Wanna watch a film in your room when we get back?"

You grinned. Back to the same old. This was better, though now you knew you'd be thinking about being on your back with him on top of you making out while you were watching a film. Quickly, you realised something. "That will look so sus though, now that we're engaged."

"We'll keep it a secret," He wiggled, elbowing you. You found yourself laughing, jumping up to walk back to the palace. You held your outstretched hand to him.

"Your majesty?"

"Ah, yes, my fine maiden," Felix giggled, sliding off the bench to grab your hand. You both started to walk to the edge of the path, skipping along as if you had no cares in the world. You heard rustling, probably the sounds of the reporter leaving.

You hoped you'd done okay. You hoped you'd made it believable. Well, you probably had, given your actual feelings - but had Felix?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd woken up the next day with a piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead and another person snoring next to you. You blinked yourself awake drearily, leaning up on your palms and looking around your room. Your TV had turned onto standby, and you looked to your right. Felix was in your room. Felix was in your bed. You'd- oh, no. You'd totally just fallen asleep watching a movie, nevermind. Totally fine.

No, actually. Totally not fine!

You shrieked, grabbing Felix's slender waist and wiggling him awake. He'd borrowed a pair of your more comfortable clothes and the t-shirt had been just a bit too small, riding up with every move and now exposing nearly his whole tummy. You tried to ignore it, continuing to shake him awake. The piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead fell onto the bed with an unceremonious noise and you groaned. Eventually, after what felt like hours of shaking your best friend, he opened his eyes and gave you a wide smile, pulling you in for a cuddle. You ignored how lovely it felt and tried to get him to regain consciousness and morality.

"Felix."

"Hmm?"

"You are in my bed."

"I know, dummy- Oh." Felix shot up, nearly sending you flying off the bed. His hand landed on the piece of popcorn, crumbling it into your pristine white sheets. You tried not to cry. His eyes widened, staring at you. "What's the- have you checked your phone? What's the time?"

You shook your head, reaching over to grab your phone. You seldom went on your phone, preferring to read and spend time with Felix, but you had it in case of emergencies and also sometimes for TikTok, but you'd never admit that. You blinked. 11am.

You'd missed breakfast, but you also had zero missed calls or texts on your phone. No one had woken you? Weird. You flipped the screen to show Felix, and he leaned in closer. You were brandishing your wallpaper of the two of you on the beach last summer, but you didn't care. He grabbed your phone, entered your passcode and clicked on the phone app.

"No one even tried to wake us?" He asked. You shook your head. He laid back down, seeming weirdly reassured. You didn't question it, slinking up next to him and putting your head on his shoulder. He moved his arm accordingly, pulling you into his chest and still clicking random buttons on your phone. Eventually, he landed on the search tab, and typed in 'news'. Oh, shit. Was it announced?

Yep. In blaring headlines, multiple news media sources were now releasing reports with every single detail of the story, including pictures of the two of you last night. The titles were all similar, going along the lines of "the sweet Prince and beloved best friend confirmed to be engaged!" or "sophisticated best friend and the lovely Prince taking a romantic late night stroll!". You scoffed, clicking on one and scrolling down. The pictures were cute, to be honest. Some even showed the two of you laughing and hitting each other last night, or you two walking home hand in hand and skipping as if you were kids. One picture, however, is what stuck with you. It was the two of you mid-kiss, Felix's hand on the back of your head and his other holding your shoulder, keeping you in place. It was fucking hot.

"Damn, we look good, you know?" Felix mused, zooming in on the picture. You hummed. You did, you couldn't deny that. "My mum was so real for thinking of us getting married. Like, we totally look good together. Imagine our kids."

Imagine what we'll do to make kids, you thought, but you bit your tongue. You giggled, slapping Felix's chest playfully, then a thought came into your stupid lizard brain. "Hey, Lix?"

"Yeah?" He was still scrolling through an article, laughing at some of the sentences. Everyone loved the two of you, but a few were jealous that you'd managed to snag him. Good.

"Did you mean what you said last night? About practice?" Felix's thumb stopped on the screen. His eyes darted to you, his hair still mussed from sleep. He just stared at you, and you lost your nerve. "Sorry. Weird thing to say. I was just wondering-"

"No, not weird. I meant it. You wanna make out? For practice?" Felix locked your phone, chucking it to the end of the bed. You didn't have time to scold him for throwing your things around like that before his hand was carding in your hair, fingertips scratching at your scalp. God, you loved it when he did that. Your eyes shut in bliss. You totally forgot what he asked. "Hey, earth to sugarplum."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure. For practice."

Okay, so you were totally being super selfish. But, you were going to be having sex with him soon. You could do a little making out to prepare, right? You were just a woman, after all. Nothing wrong with that. His fingers gripped your hair with a different intensity then, pulling at the strands slightly, and you choked back a whine. You opened your eyes, looking up at him.

He hummed, looking at you. He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Maybe... yeah," He grabbed your arm, pulling you over him. He positioned you exactly how he wanted you, on top of him, straddling his hips. His dainty hands went to your waist, rubbing circles. "Yeah, like this. For practice."

"For practice," You agreed solemnly. You were beginning to think that maybe it wasn't for practice. Maybe he just wanted to. He scooted up, leaning up against the pillows so he was sat up and you were sat on top of him. You tried to ignore the fact that you could feel what was going on between his legs through your thin sleep shorts. You couldn't get too wound up during this, just in case it was just for practice. Knotting your hands into the fabric of his - your - white t-shirt, you leaned down, brushing your nose with his. You were being selfish, but bold, but mostly selfish.

Felix's eyes flitted down to your lips, leaning up to place a soft kiss there. You smiled softly, and he returned yours with a smile that could only be described as filled with fondness. You bit your lip, noticing the way his eyes honed in on your teeth and perhaps his grip tightened on your hips just a bit, but he'd always deny it.

"Lixie." You muttered. You were too shy. He knew exactly what you meant, and raised one hand up to grab at the back of your head. He brought your lips to his, attaching his mouth to yours in a way that was completely different from yesterday. Yesterday was for show, but this seemed personal, hungry almost. You decided you were going to take what you could get. You pressed your lips to his harder, making him choke out a noise of surprise. It was messy, again, open mouthed kisses that were nothing akin to precise or experienced, but you could get to know each other, get to know what you liked. Right at that moment, all you knew was that you liked him, and you would be so pissed off if he didn't let you get your tongue in his mouth like he did last night.

Your hands went up to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues brushed against each other, and you whined, hips kicking up just slightly before you managed to stop yourself. He grabbed your hips, flipping you over so he was on top of you, not breaking the kiss. His lips kept brushing against yours as his tongue entered your mouth, groaning at the feeling. You couldn't stop breathing heavily through your nose, your hands roaming up his back and landing on his hair, pulling him down to kiss you harder. Your lips felt bruised, swollen, but you never wanted to stop kissing him.

With that thought, he bit your lip, pulling away and letting it release against your teeth. You squirmed, licking your lips excessively to try and stop them feeling so swollen. Felix looked debauched, his hair even more tangled and his lips just as red and swollen as yours. His eyes were dark, staring down at you.

"Baby. Bestie. I'm sorry, but I'm- I'm sorry..." He whispered, his head going to the crook of your neck to place soothing kisses there. He was breathing heavily, shifting ever so slightly on top of you. You felt it then, what he was apologising for. His length was rock hard, the shaft pressing into your core and giving you just the slightest bit of stimulation. "'M so fucking hard, sugarplum, I'm sorry."

"I-It's okay, Lixie. I think I'm... I'm wet, too," You whispered, and he threw his head back, groaning. "Practice makes perfect, y'know. We can keep making out." Felix nodded eagerly, and he grabbed your thighs, linking them around his hips. He ducked to place a few more kisses on your neck, biting a little at the area where your throat met your jaw. You let out a moan, neck bearing to the opposite side to give him full access and he clearly approved, biting harder.

"Baby, c-can I just," He ground his hips into yours, groaning and stuttering his words out. He immediately stopped, looking down at you. "Can I? I can make us both feel good, no sex. We can just grind a little on eachother. I won't put it in, I promise-"

With that, a knock on the door interrupted you both. You were fully prepared to start swinging at whoever was on the other end. Felix looked like he was about to die, cheeks flushed and hair tangled every which way. You both stared at each other in disbelief. Okay, so you had kind of really lost yourself there, and now somebody is at the door while the nation's favourite Prince is currently on top of you grinding into you with full intent to cum. You'd only just announced your engagement. You could've got pregnant before you even got married. Jesus, what is wrong with you? You sighed, moving to sit up, and Felix moved off of you. He ran a hand through his knotted hair.

"I should... fuck, Felix, what do we do?" You knew you both looked the image of lust, lips kiss bitten and swollen and hair everywhere. You could even feel the wet patch in your sleep shorts. Shit, okay.

Felix looked to be holding back a laugh. You felt terrified, but you almost laughed too, in pure disbelief. You both covered your mouths before you shot off the bed, slipping your shorts off your legs and replacing them with a pair of longer trousers from your drawer. You honestly couldn't care less if he'd seen you in your underwear, you'd bathed together when you were younger. You motioned to the en suite dramatically and Felix ran in there instantly, still giggling quietly, locking the door behind him. You shook your head fondly as another knock was firmly punched against the door. Jesus, couldn't even give you a second?

"Coming!" You called, walking over to the door and trying your best to fake yawn loudly so they thought you'd just woken up. When you opened the door, Chris stood there, a happy smile on his face.

"Okay, I'm so coming in! Why didn't you tell me you and Felix are serious now?" He pushed you back into the room, throwing himself onto your bed dramatically. It was quite funny, seeing him lying on the bed you'd just accosted his brother on. He was resting against the messy sheets in a perfect suit and tie. You shook your head, letting out a laugh.

"Okay, we're not. It's an arranged thing, Chris. We're still only best friends," You chose your words wisely, fiddling with the drawstring on your trousers. Chris hummed, giving you a strange look. Changbin. Fucking Changbin, he'd definitely said something. God. "And, why didn't you ask your own brother this? I'm simply an accessory."

"Because my own brother is currently locked inside your bathroom pretending he's not there?" Chris replied instantly. Your eyes widened.

"No, he's not. Why would you even think-"

"Okay, well. I know he is, so," Chris shrugged. You sighed.

"Felix, you can come out," You said. The lock slowly clicked open and Felix emerged, looking sheepish. Thank God the shock of Chris arriving had made his boner go down, so now he didn't look too lustful. He'd also clearly ran your brush through his hair before coming out. You couldn't say the same for yourself.

Felix threw himself down on the bed next to you and Chris, groaning and stretching his limbs. "Did anyone ask where we were?"

Chris chuckled. He fiddled with the wedding band on his left hand. "Yep. I made up an excuse, said you'd gone out for a walk again and were getting food out. I had a feeling you'd both be spending the night together. Princess Diaries again?"

You shook your head. "Nope. It's too real now."

"Mind you, I don't think there was this much 'practising' going on between Mia and her potential husband in the second one," Chris looked up from his hand. You averted your eyes.

"Dunno what you mean-"

"How much did you hear, what the fuck?!" Felix shrieked. Oh, great, thanks.

"I mean, the walls are thin, dude. I heard a lot on my way down the corridor. But, I'm glad you two are having fun with it, at least. Arranged marriages can be shit sometimes," Chris stretched similarly to Felix, before reaching down and clapping Felix on his back harshly. Felix groaned, throwing himself around the bed in protest. "Anyway, I should be off now. Congratulations again, guys. You should probably get ready for the party tonight though."

Chris began to walk out of the room, and Felix stood up.

"I should... go. With him. You know?" You nodded in response to his statement. He waited until Chris had rounded the corner, and leaned down, pressing a swift peck to your lips. You squeaked in surprise, cheeks burning crimson. He giggled, giving you a sweet wave and running off. "See you later, bestie!"

You wondered if you’d ever be permitted to drop the bestie, maybe once you’re married to him, but it couldn’t come soon enough. You wanted to let yourself be selfish just this once.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Text

I Never Missed You 3/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Angst and smut and fluff (the holy trinity!) in this last part.

Part 1 Part 2

Juice spills all over the table from the oranges you press, but you don't mind. There has been a soft smile on your face all morning.

Simon's still sleeping, and you want to surprise him with a special breakfast today: scrambled eggs, freshly pressed orange juice, berries, and…

"You took my shirt."

You flinch when you hear his familiar rumble not a few feet away. The staircase wailed like a widow last night, but obviously, this man has learned to avoid the creaky spots when he wants. A goddamn heavyweight ninja...

"I'm sorry." You lick your fingers from the juice and try to feign innocence. The sleeves of his black tee reach your elbows, but you're not sorry. Nor do you feel bad about seeing him in your kitchen without a shirt.

"It was not an accusation," he says, the corner of his mouth curving a little, the dark eyes that made love to you last night giving you an approving once-over.

You approach him with a glass full of sun, but it's you he grabs in his hold. Your fingers find the scars on his back as you two embrace, and you feel an odd churn in your stomach.

"What's this…?"

Your hand floats across the embossed, white ridges that crisscross his back. The collection forms an entire mountain range, and it's chilling because you've only brushed the space between his shoulder blades.

"A reminder. To trust no one."

"No one…?"

"No one."

You remain a coward and refrain from asking for more details. You doubt he would even share them.

"I made you breakfast," you lower your gaze to the colorful palette you've gathered on the plates. Is it some sort of an instinct to want to feed a man after they've fucked you so good?

"So I see," he says, ever more approvingly. Then you're lifted on the table, next to the plates, like you're the breakfast.

Soon you're only wearing his shirt and your tiny socks, which Simon decides to leave on, too busy with getting his face between your legs.

No one has done anything like that before… No one has chosen you over breakfast; an entire abundance of delicacies laid out.

He licks you until your legs are trembling on that tortured back. You're pure, you're untouched by evil, and he carries your naivety on his shoulders like it weighs nothing. He flattens his tongue on you, sucks your flesh, tortures you on that table and doesn't even mind his teeth all too much. The peak stubble he hasn't yet shaved stings and burns as he moves across your folds.

Saying that the coarse chin on your silk feels good would be an understatement. You come undone next to the breakfast, clad in golden light shining through the small window left uncovered.

You feel alive, and raw, and stellar. A shooting star, a comet high above the sky, although the space through which you ignite consists of golden rays of sunlight and the scent of orange juice.

He takes the shirt back after he's done. After you're done and try your best to return back to earth with shaking legs. The only thing you're wearing is your socks, but you feel completely naked before him, dopey and dumb before the day has even started. Simon only licks his lips, throws that shirt on, and grabs his plate.

He dares to comment that there's no hot water. You put the kettle on with a wobble, feeling hotness on your cheeks while he sits down to eat his second breakfast like it's the most natural thing in the world: to wreck you first thing in the morning.

…............................

Simon.

He fixes the door on your fridge. He helps you clean your garage and fucks you on the table. Oily, dusty, filthy table. You go to shower after, together. You're giggling; he's smiling. Fully, now.

You want to ask him, Is this free of charge too…? Not just his cock... But his smiles. His assistance and support. The looks he grants you when you come out of the shower, ready to be licked to ruin.

He calls you his Princess to tease you just right. To get you in a state where your eyes flash with half-rage, half-lust, just before he slips inside you. He knows exactly which strings to pull – and then calls you love just when you're about to give him a piece of your mind.

You end up on the table, on the counter, on the floor. He takes you while your jaw slowly falls open from his audacity and his cock, splitting you apart with slow love. The first time he takes you in a missionary, you squirt. It's like his cock was made for you. And he dares to tease you about that, too.

"Did ya just squirt all over my cock?"

You have tears in your eyes, shame on your cheeks, and he's wetter than a wet dog down there… then he makes you squirt again, high on the lewd, obscene praise you just gave him with your pussy.

Your cunt can't lie; he knows it by now. So it's futile to keep your lips sealed either.

Kiss me.

That's what you would've usually ordered. But after an exceptionally quiet and passionate and desperate fuck that leaves you both catching your breath, leaves him hovering only inches from your sweaty upper lip, you whisper…

"I want to kiss you."

You expect him to laugh or mock you, at least crack a stupid joke or two. But he doesn't. Instead, his eyes drop to your lips, and he swallows with a heavy roll, then closes the gap between you two. Covers your mouth with his, uses that strong jaw to open you for devouring.

The kiss lasts long enough for you to begin breathing through your nose. Your inner walls grip him, still buried deep inside, and the gusts of exhales passing through his nostrils hit your face with pure bliss. He’s a little breathless when he parts – withdraws just enough to look into your eyes.

“Will that do...?”

There is a drunken vigor in his eyes of crushed amber, but to your shock, you hear your own question laid out before you. The one you asked when you were going to that party.

Will I do…?

Your hands find his jaw and cup his face from both sides, drawing him back to your lips.

“Yes."

You will more than just do.

And then you say…

"I want more.”

He chuckles a soft scoff on your face.

"Greedy little thing."

Then he swallows you again. You kiss for a good few minutes while he grows half-hard inside you. It's the most romantic kiss you have shared with anyone, ever. He tells you how spoiled you are between the breaths you both catch, then spoils you some more with his mouth and tongue and cock.

You start to curl together in the evening. Just to watch a comedy. He massages your feet and smiles more every day. It's kind of domestic, how he wrinkles his nose at your fine white wine and asks what it is in that decanter you have in your study. When you say it's just some old bourbon, he goes and gets himself a glass like he's finally made himself at home.

It makes your heart grow thick from love. You almost forget why he's here in the first place.

When you ask him about the plan, he explains it to you in detail while kissing his way down your ribs and navel. He takes his sweet time while doing it, kissing the inside of your thigh, the hollow place below the knee, the tender skin under the knee. He kisses your calf and the ankle bone while holding your leg up for his lips with just one hand. Then he does the same to your other leg, but this time, kisses his way from ankle to thigh until he reaches…

You.

You've forgotten half the plan by then because you realize Simon hasn't looked at you like you're a steak or garbage in a long, long time.

He looks at you like you're a queen. You could say he worships you, but the thought alone makes your heart flutter with the anxiety of a fragile hummingbird.

Simon gets you your groceries and gets himself only a beer as a reward. You would happily offer him a case if you knew it would make him happy.

But you don't really know what would make him happy. You don't know anything about this man. You know he likes it when you're dolled up and angry. He likes you when you're sleepy, without makeup, wearing only his shirt. He likes to fuck you from behind and hold you close after. He likes to give you a wash, likes it when you wash him. He likes to watch the two tall trees outside the window sway when there's a strong wind.

"What makes you happy?" You ask one night after you've had him in your mouth.

"Blowjobs," he answers with a straight face, and you shove him in the shoulder. Nicely. Softly.

"No, for real."

"I dunno." He sighs and turns to stare at your ceiling with a bothered look. It's a tricky question, perhaps. Or weapons, not willingly gifted.

"Dogs," he shrugs after a while. "A day of silence. Good whiskey."

He doesn't grant you weapons. You get some rope, but not enough to choke him with it. He trusts no one.

"Why don't you like missionary…?" You continue roasting him while curling your fingers around the pale hair on his chest.

"I never said I didn't like it."

"Don't avoid the question, Mr. Doggystyle."

You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your palm flat over his heart. His stare slowly drifts from the ceiling back to you.

"Simon. Why do you always fuck me from behind?"

He raises his eyebrows like he's innocent of the crime he's being accused of. "Not always."

"Seriously, Simon."

The smug look returns; it gives his eyes a delightful little spark and tugs at the corner of that kissable mouth.

"I like your ass."

"But not my eyes?"

The smile dies, and he gulps down a short surprise, caught between truth and dare. But then his eyes settle like the calming sea under a full moon. Stern, but not remorseless. Bold, but not heartless. If anything, he's naked and bare.

"Darlin'. Love your eyes the most."

Your heart does a backflip. You've been a fool because what else has he done but search for your eyes first thing in the morning? Given you flashes of mischief over breakfast, made love to you with those eyes as you cum around his cock? That liquid fire and smoke hasn't left you since he stepped inside this house.

You breathe together; you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. There was a time when you thought this man was incapable of love, but now you fear he has never been allowed to love enough.

"We never talked, you know," you whisper. His heart swells underneath your palm like a sail.

"What'ya wanna talk about?"

"Us."

"So talk."

Walls are raised so quickly you feel them knocking the warmth out of your body. It's cold, it's Antarctic, the technique he uses to withdraw. Your room turns into a kingdom of ice from the cruel, emotionless indifference he emits.

You've been a fool, yes... And a child.

"You're making it hard," you say, noticing how the man starts to tense up under your fingertips. This is not the way, but you're not smart enough to stop your rampage.

"What happens when you've done your job?"

He doesn't sigh. He doesn't even think twice before giving his answer.

"I go back to the base."

You know now why he's called a ghost. You wonder if he was ever even here. Simon becomes a reminder for you, a reminder to trust no one.

"...Right." You pull your hand away slowly. As if it somehow helps with the pain to pretend you haven't just touched a hot stove and ended up getting your fingers burned.

He notices how you tense up far more than he. The arm around your waist goes tight, and you wonder if you've always been a bloodied steak to this brute, a stupid little princess with your wines, sighs, and wet eyes. He just doesn't want to let go of the last bites of his fine, delicious meat.

"I never thought you wanted a relationship," he says with a hollow voice, and the red rage nearly blinds your sight. You're too riled up to even yell at him.

"Love…" he tries for the last time.

"Get out of my bed."

…............................

His musk still clings to you as you descend the stairs the next morning.

He's sitting at the end of the steps with hunched shoulders and a tense back, exiled into the man he was the first day you met him. Your heart bleeds from the sight, wondering whether Simon has waited there the whole night after you kicked him out of your bedroom. But the boiling bile in your stomach forces you to lift your chin and draw your shoulders back as you walk down those steps with an audible clatter as your heels clack across the parquet.

He must've heard you before you make a racket fitting for an angered queen, but rises only after you've made it halfway through the staircase. You won't allow yourself to even look his way as he draws a deep breath.

"Love. Sweetheart."

But with that, you flash the man a stare full of despise as you walk past him.

"Don't."

"Let me–"

"Don't say a word," you take a sharp turn and raise a hand to shield you from whatever brutality he would like to stain you with. "You don't talk to me. You just do your job. Ok?"

His chest swells with another deep breath, but otherwise, this man is still as a statue again.

"Ma'am."

It takes you a while to notice he has regressed back to that term again, and you tilt your head. The movement is that of a warrior who swings her sword to a guard before a fight. He crosses his hands over his crotch as if to shield the most vulnerable parts from a low blow, but his eyes are full of hateful hurt as he gives you his most pretentious, mocking tone.

"Miss."

Your heart skips a beat – Simon becomes the thing you miss.

A hit and run.

You have to resist the urge to grimace at the pure venom in his voice - it doesn't matter what he calls you because that tone seeps straight through your skin like lye. It hurts; it burns to see him even more withdrawn to his shell than when you first met. He retreats far beyond the front line, he goes further than the rear, and it's a bitter defeat for both of you.

This man has rubbed your feet while you've laughed at a stupid joke in a sitcom. The same man has been inside you – night after night after night. It rips your heart to see a distant, perfectly blank expression on his face after you've seen him give you a plentitude of relaxed and wicked little smiles.

You share the breakfast in funeral-like silence. You wish you could pay him to stay home so that you can go through your day filled with terror and longing without Simon Riley following you around.

"I've been meaning to update you on new intel about the target," he breaks the silence, and your heart feels like it's being put through a wringer. Simon hasn't even touched his breakfast. "Turns out he received training in a sniper unit."

"So?"

"There's a high chance he might prefer to use long-range weapons."

He's professional, curt, clinical. Even more so than when you first shook hands with him. And all the while, those eyes burn you; they examine you like you're the most challenging puzzle he's ever tried to solve. He's cold as ice with his words and hot as hell with that stare. Those eyes seem to pierce your clothes, they even reach under your skin.

"Right," you say without giving him a single look back.

"We have to update our protocol asap."

Our…

We.

"The protocol…" you whisper and finally look up at him. His lips draw into a thin line as he sees how your walls crumble; they didn't last even half a day.

"Simon, I can't do this," you say, your voice breaking. The tears are only seconds away. They blur your sight, but as he rises from the table slowly and takes a hesitant step towards you, you turn your head back to your toast with a snap.

"I want to change bodyguards."

From the corner of your blurred vision, you see how he raises a hand. If you didn't know any better, you could say that he's at his weakest. But the hand falls straight back and gives a twitch by his side. You wonder why he even bothers to disguise the spasm so lousily as a stretch. It's as if he wants you to see that he's in tumult too.

"I'll stay until–"

"No. Get out."

"Miss. I'll just get my things," he says, and you nod briefly. No exchange of gazes is probably the best policy after informing him you no longer need his services. It's better to rip the band-aid off with one yank than try to pretend that this relationship was something more than sexual.

You know he came to your house with minimal belongings, a duffel bag full of spare clothes and a large case which you supposed was a container for different weapons. That is why you notice he takes a surprisingly long time to get those things and leave your house.

When he finally emerges from his room – no, not his room, but the guest room, you remind yourself – he places the luggage in the hallway and comes back to you, probably to say his polite farewells.

"You won't let me speak to you, so I wrote you a fuckin' letter."

You turn to solid stone as he places an envelope between your water glass and cup of coffee. You sit with your heart thumping in your chest as he picks up his things, walks to the door, walks out of it and out of your life.

It's one of those moments you wish you could freeze and rewind. Do everything differently so that it wouldn't have to come to this. Instead, you listen how the front door clunks shut.

Then you send your trembling fingers up from your lap and onto the pure white thing that holds his secrets. You pry it open and find yourself reading the lines, scribbled with surprisingly sophisticated handwriting, through a round of hot tears.

They cloud your vision, but they don't cloud his words.

You skim through the letter in a frenzied hurry once, then again with more control, and try to remember how to breathe.

He shares shrivels from his past, ugly, horrid things which make your breakfast nearly push up your throat. He tells you he stopped dating eleven years ago for a reason. He writes that he would rather be tortured again than make you suffer from his past and incapacities.

There are certain lines that enter your heart like a thief with the most delicate crowbar. Lines like I'm not good with words and You must know by now that I'm a broken man.

Lines like I'm not a fucking poet but I'll miss your warmth even under the desert sun.

Some lines make you want to tear the letter to pieces. Lines such as Don't throw your diamonds in the dust and I can't give you what you deserve.

He thinks you can't take his darkness, so he shelters you from it. He says he would come back to you if he could. You don't know what the hell he means by that.

If he could?

What the fuck prevents him?

You sit inside your empty, lonely house, confident of the fact that it is not you who prevents it. It was not you who just sent him out that door. Who commanded him to leave because you didn't need his services anymore.

The letter makes you cry, and then it makes you boil.

Such sweet words, and so many empty sentences. If only, if I wasn't, if I could.

You get the feeling that he's mocking you again. If only you weren't a princess and a spoiled brat, then perhaps he could reconsider this relationship.

You leave the letter there; you leave your coffee and your breakfast. You almost wish someone would shoot you and put you out of your misery as you call a taxi and go to the heart of the city.

You're completely numb as your fingertips brush silk and linen and all the newest designs. They curl around tiny bottles of bright nail polish and touch the perfumes made from the last free wildflowers of a burning world, but you feel nothing stir inside.

You're emptier than the echo that rings through the malls and corridors of stone; you feel poorer than all the beggars on the street. Shopping always makes you feel better. But now you want to burn all your money, throw your jewels out the window, torch all the fucking stores like some bloody anarchist. You leave every store without buying a thing and try to remember what it was to have lunch without drowning in tears that can't be cried in public.

"I can't give you what you deserve."

That's the line that scalds you most. You know what he meant when he wrote those words, seemingly humble. But your bleeding heart twists that sentence until his words are a testimony of pure rejection.

You have money, so you don't deserve love, is that it?

You want to find him and shake him. It's not about what you deserve or what he deserves. It's not about what anyone deserves. And if the bloody man thinks he doesn't deserve love only because he's made his home in suffering, then he's the last person who should be allowed to decide who deserves what.

You walk through the crowds and streets like a small whirlwind, on the verge of yelling your heart and loneliness out in the air until your vocal cords are raw. You're so riled your mind doesn't even register the gunshot.

The only thing you hear is a glass shattering next to you just before an entire boulder hits you.

His scent envelops you like a safe, warm blanket, even if that blanket weighs a ton and causes your jeans to grate and tear as you two hit the asphalt. Simon gives you bruises, scrapes and burns all across your left side as your body grinds through the dirt.

Another shot is fired; this time, a car's glass is shattered above you, and the body surrounding you tenses until you worry your bodyguard has been hit. The bodyguard you fired this morning, who's still doing his job, who never even left you…

People are screaming and running in different directions all around and above you, but time comes to a halt as Simon rises only an inch or two.

"Stay down," he gruffs in your ear. "Don't move. Don't you fucking move, ok?"

The whole world could've gone silent from the way you only hear his voice. His words. His distress. You remain still as a stone and look up at him – your lips part because he's looking at you with impatience that's not just pressing; it's demanding.

"Yes," you stutter, "yes, of course."

Someone's pissed because a third shot sends him right back over you, and only then do you notice you're clinging to him, to his jacket and his shirt, like he's a human shield. Then the human shield speaks again, and the words that come out only make you grip him tighter.

"He has to change the magazine soon. You stay right here, ok? I'm going in."

"No, don't," your fingers curl around his clothes and try to keep him on top of you. "Don't go. I'm afraid."

I'll get you a dog.

A day of silence.

I'll buy you some good whiskey. I promise…

"I'll be right back," he murmurs, more softly now. "I promise."

Then he rips himself off you. Your body misses his heat like the desert sand must miss the sun, and you realize you've ruined everything as you finally get to watch him in his element. He's agile and beautiful as he reaches for his gun, takes it out, and prepares it in a few seconds to fire death upon your faceless enemy. You've ruined everything because if Simon goes in, he might get killed – he's a human, not a shield, he's not even a weapon – and all the things you never said will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Don't leave me," you want to reach for him, but don't dare disobey his orders. It should send you laughing: that you're finally doing precisely as he says. You finally trust your life with him, just before he leaves you, leaves you, leaves you.

"Simon–"

"Sweetheart. I never left you."

He looks straight into your eyes. You gulp the tears now.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, and someone is screaming; everythings a buzz, cars whir by as you tell him all the things you meant to say weeks ago. "I never wanted you to go. I always liked you. I– I think I love–"

"Shh. Don't you do this to me now."

The words are so soft you have to struggle to hear what he's saying under his breath. It's like he's talking to himself, and you realize you're an asshole, saying things like that to him when he's trying to concentrate on his mission and his job. But you just can't help yourself sometimes. No one in your life compares to him. No one has caused such a ruckus, such turmoil, such devastation and such love.

"Do what?" you whimper there, motionless on the ground as he gives you a last, painful look before his stare fixes on the piece of glass still unshattered, the dim, transient mirror of a store window he uses to locate movement in one of the buildings.

Then he takes a peek over the car, and you hold your breath – he's the bait now, and ducks his head immediately as two more shots are fired. You don't even have the strength to scream; your whole body simply shudders from the echoing sound of pure fear – how can he play tag with death like that?

And then he leaves.

He rounds the car and darts for the building and the sniper; he disappears from your vision so quickly you wonder if these past weeks have been but a dream.

A hit and run.

"Do what…" you repeat on the ground and curl into yourself even though he said you shouldn't move. You figure it's not that big of a crime to go into a fetal position when you don't know if he's ever coming back to scold you for breaking the rules.

You want to close your ears from the sounds that follow – you fear you'll jinx something if you listen too closely to what happens in that building. You try to concentrate on your breaths, slowly bringing you back to your body. You haven't even noticed that there's blood running down your arm.

It's funny how you only notice the pain after seeing the flowing crimson that makes small rivers around your fingers. You don't want to look at your burning shoulder because the shock is already here.

The searing pulse gets worse as you hear another shot, then another shot. Those sounds pound inside your shoulder and send more fire down your arm. Minutes or hours pass and you think how strange it is that everything's completely still, how bizarre it is that there are no sirens, no cars, no screaming. They've finally closed off the roads.

You only start to cry when you see that he's alive.

You try to rise from the ground to meet him – a bleeding princess, waking from her beauty sleep and realizing everything's just been a bad dream, greeting her knight in a black pair of fitted tactical pants and a pistol on his waist. Diamonds and darkness…

He rushes to you in what seems like desperation. You find it oddly beautiful that he's not only relieved to see his client is still alive and well, he's also relieved to know you're still there. That his princess has waited for him.

He falls on his knees and prevents you from rising. You're quickly wrapped in his arms, feeling so happy and safe that you don't even bother to tell him you're injured. It's just a scratch anyway. Even if your leg was blown off, you wouldn't complain about being picked up in his lap like this.

"Shh. I got you. I got you."

He's cradling you like a child while tears stream down your face, but there's no audible sounds of crying. You weep a whole river of tears and your nose is clogged, forcing you to breathe through your mouth, but there's no wailing, no screaming, no bawling. The first words that roll off your tongue are a child's moody complaint.

"You left me," you mope as he caresses your head.

"Only for a little while."

"You came back."

"I said I would."

More tears flow, and this time you sniffle and sob. He rocks you gently back and forth as you cry in his embrace. Simon would make a good father.

"Is he…?" You whisper, then look up at him. He just nods and gives you a quick scan, drawing a sharp breath when he notices the wound on your arm.

You're placed back on the ground as he inspects your shoulder and tells you the bullet managed to scrape some skin but has mostly just ruined your jacket. You're almost sorry that the wound is not as severe as it feels. You thought the burning sensation meant shattered bones and scarred flesh, but the scratch is no deeper than if you had accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife.

"No, I don't want… No hospital," you beg as he offers to take you to ER. You're not spending the rest of the day in a frigid treatment room where tired medical personnel only clean the wound and put a big plaster on it.

"Just take me home," you plead like you're his daughter who doesn't want to go to school today. "Please?"

"Sure. Whatever ya want."

He makes a few phone calls, arranges things with the local police or something. You don't want to know anything about it. You don't want to know who got shot in that building and how.

It's not a taxi that drives you back this time. You don't know where he got a car and a driver, but the vehicle is big and black, and your head is in Simon's lap when you lie in the backseat. There's a panel between the driver's seat and the rear, so you don't even know who's driving, but you're only grateful for the privacy after the crazy morning followed by a murder attempt. You look up at Simon, who looks back at you for the first time while you're in a car together.

"Why did you become a soldier?" You ask, not knowing why you're whispering. He's holding your hand – a simple, wholesome thing to do, but his grip on you is solid and warm and feels equally as intimate as the times this man has been inside you.

"I wanted to help people."

"By killing them?"

"By saving those I can."

He keeps a hand on your cheek too. Simon has spoken softly ever since you were fired at, has been humane and caring and tender, and you realize… This man is naked before you; he's stripped bare from all pretenses.

And he's not darkness. He's not a skeleton or a dead man or even a soldier.

He's a beacon in the night.

"You did a good job," you squeeze his hand softly.

The last glass-like veil in his eyes shatters, but far more softly than those windows shot at with a rifle.

"I live to serve, Ma'am...–Miss."

"Don’t… Simon, please don’t call me a–"

He descends. He doesn't need that hand to lift your chin up to meet him in a kiss. It's not a hungry devouring this time, but a soft promise, a lover's seal. You feel the rest of the shock leave your body in his embrace. There's no more coldness, only a fragile burning.

"You never look me in the eyes," you whisper as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye. It's a silly thing to say when he looks at you with all the love in the world.

"Yes I do," he gives you a soft brush of a thumb across your cheek. His lips are right there, an inch away from yours. "How could you have missed that?"

He's right, as always. The dark love almost swallows the brown of his eyes as he looks at you, shining light on you as he has shined for days, for weeks now. How could you have missed that, indeed? You raise a hand to cup his cheek, not caring about the pain, not even mourning that your blood stains his chin. He doesn't seem to mind at all, so why would you?

When you arrive at your house, he drives away the loneliness, sorrow, everything a rich girl can fear by carrying you in his arms, stepping over the threshold with you like you two are married now.

He peels your jacket off with affection and tenderness, tends to your wound and wipes away the blood that has caked dry all over your arm. The gash has bled a lot for such a small wound, and you purse your lips from how accurately it reflects your feelings for him.

He ties the wound, checks at least two times he's not tying it too tight. His care breaks your heart, because you don't know whether he will leave you after this. There's nothing that keeps him here anymore – there's no way you can keep Simon Riley to yourself. So you abandon him first for the second time, ascend the stairs to your lonely domain while he cleans up the small mess in the bathroom.

It's a small miracle that he follows you. He opens the door to your room without knocking – not because he's entitled to your privacy, but because there are no more barriers between you two. You're gathered in a stout embrace for the second time this afternoon, and you wrap your arms around him to hold him closer.

"You'll leave me soon," you speak to the wall before you, to the man behind you, holding you so gently against his chest. "I'll miss you."

"Love," he murmurs behind you, you feel the words against your back as a warm rumble. "I'll come back. If you want me, I'll come back to you."

"You will…?"

"I promise."

You have no more tears to cry, so you settle for examining the stab inside your heart, the wound that will bleed you dry if no one ties it tightly enough.

"I don't believe you."

"It's not a matter of whether you believe me."

He turns you around and lets you bathe in his warmth again, the same golden light that came through the window when he placed his mouth on you in the kitchen. It's almost frightening to know that there's nothing that can keep him from you. Nothing, except you. The only thing that has stood between you was only and ever pride.

"Simon," you breathe, a soft attempt to introduce him to mercy. "It's not a matter of what we deserve."

He blinks a few times, the chest against your side collapses a little. It's a hard reset. The corner of his mouth tugs, a beautiful betrayal of his surrender, a sign of being hit by a boulder – your boulder, finally bringing the rest of those walls down.

"You think so...?"

"Yes. I think so."

He brushes his knuckles across your sternum – a familiar motion that always manages to lift your heart. You used to think it was foreplay when it was in truth, an attempt to touch the organ said to be the house of love.

You think about the times his harsh breaths have hit you just before he cums, the urgent praise he's peppered you with merely seconds before you've cried from pleasure. Can't get enough of you pet, you’re fucking perfect, 'm gonna make you cum, sing for me, just like that...

You always thought it was a catalogue of shallow lust when it was an offering of naked devotion.

He was as vulnerable as you when you drifted through space together, when you drowned in his stunning midnight sea. He was catching fire and burning too, again and again until you were both satisfied and sweaty. He always held you close after, panted desperate love on your skin, planted kisses on your collarbones and neck before resting his head on your heart. Settling there, over your pulse, like he had finally found his way home…

The hand glides between your breasts and molds itself over your waist. It fits there like a second skin. You're relatively sure his hands were made for holding you.

"You asked what makes me happy," he says, completely naked and bare. The heavy love surrounds you with warm safety; your breath flows freely as you await his confession, the last secret revealed. "I think you know, love."

You know. It has finally dawned on you. What you didn't know was that tears of hope could feel like fire too. You've never been more eager to burn.

"Now keep those pretty eyes on me."

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x f!reader #ghost x female reader #bodyguard au #bodyguard!Ghost

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froggibus · 3 months

Note

hello hello! froggi i have something rotting my brain and i would love to hear your thoughts on it, but by no means is this something you have to answer!

how do you think gojo satoru and nanami kento (and anyone else you'd like to include!) would feel about having someone pack lunches for them? like real, thought out, balanced lunches in nice containers and thermoses with little drinks and maybe notes

i can already see the confused first years, yuji and nobara gossiping about whether they're dating someone and megumi being weirded out gojo isnt just buying something like the rich boy he is

Sack Lunch - Satoru Gojo, Nanami Kento & Suguru Geto

Pairing(s): Satoru Gojo x gn! reader, Nanami Kento x gn! reader, Suguru Geto x gn! reader

Genre: fluff!

Word Count: 667 (Gojo's), 685 (Nanami's), 680 (Suguru's)

Summary: a day in your s/o's life when you pack a lunch for him

CW: established relationships!, jokes about dying/being widowed (Gojo's--though they are not necessarily married), lots of cutesy stuff, Gojo acts like a child

anon you are the first person ever to call me froggi (and i kinda love it omg)!! i have not answered a request/ask in a hot minute, but this one was too cute to pass up! not sure if you wanted headcanons for this or not, but i got really carried away :') hope this is what you wanted! also i really feel strongly about Gojo having a 90s lunchbox collection that he is very proud of! - also!! the Valentine's Poll is open if you guys have any ideas of what you want for our Valentine's event this year!! you can vote here - also thank you @l0serloki for helping me with writing nanami!!

Satoru Gojo:

“Satoru!” You shake your head at the man as he slinks past the kitchen.

He pops his head in, white hair falling over his eyes. “Yes?”

“Don’t forget your lunch.”

“You made me lunch?” He coos, surging forward to pinch your cheek, “you’re so cute.”

You roll your eyes. “No one should spend as much money on food as you do.” You chastise. “And I want to make sure you don’t only eat sweets today. I can’t have you dying on me at 30.”

“Pft, I’m gonna live forever!”

You shove the metallic Sailor Moon lunchbox into his hands. “Keep eating what I make you and you just might.”

“Aw, baby,” he practically sings, “look at you, trying to take care of me.”

He playfully ruffles your hair, but upon seeing your scowl, drags his hand down to your waist. He leans in and presses a sloppy, needy kiss to your lips. You stand on your toes just to kiss him back, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

He pulls away blushing, lunchbox in hand. “I’ll see you later! Love you lots!”

You wave to him as he heads out the door, “love you too!”

Even when he gets out to his car, the grin on his face doesn’t fade. He might have teased you a little, but only because he was so honoured that you even thought to pack him a lunch. The cute Sailor Moon lunch box that totally isn’t his is only the icing on the cake.

—

Nobara and Yuji stare at Gojo in disbelief. The man has his feet propped up on his desk, whistling a song as he peels a mandarin. A mandarin. The sight of their teacher eating an actual, real fruit is jarring.

Yuji elbows Nobara gently, “has Gojo-sensei finally lost it?”

“He must have, have you ever seen him eat real food before?”

Gojo rolls his eyes behind his blindfold, popping a slice of the orange into his mouth. He listens to his first years gossip about him as he makes his way through the lunch you packed. You really outdid yourself with this one, he has to admit.

It’s all of the foods he likes, cutely displayed in pink containers that match the glittery exterior of the lunch box. You even packed him strawberry mochi, homemade and neatly bundled. There’s a note in there, too.

Please eat all your fruits and veggies, I don’t want to be a widow.

Lots of love!

Y/n

Gojo stifles his laughter at your note, but he can’t stop the flush that creeps up to his blindfold. Not only did you pack him a lunch, you wrote him a note. He can’t wait to come home to you and tell you how much he loves you.

It’s when Gojo gets up to use the bathroom that Yuji makes a mad dash to peek in his lunch box. “Sailor Moon?!”

Nobara leaps to her feet, joining Itadori at the desk. “There’s a note, look.”

Fushiguro sits at his desk, softly chewing on the sandwich that you also made for him this morning. He shakes his head at his nosy peers, wondering why they care so much about their ridiculous teacher’s life.

“From y/n?!” They cry out in unison.

“Did he steal this from someone?!” Nobara exclaims.

“Did he do something to y/n’s boyfriend?!”

The pair share their conspiracies on just how Gojo ended up with a homemade lunch and a handwritten note from you, oblivious to the way Megumi snickers at them in the back.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore. “They’re together.”

Their eyes practically pop out. “They are?!”

“Yep,” Gojo leans against the door to the classroom, smirking at his students.

“And it’s…like that?” Yuji asks quietly.

“It’s like that.” Gojo raises his eyebrows for emphasis.

All three First Years cringe, groans filling the room. Gojo smiles proudly though, already figuring out how he’s going to tell this story to you when he comes home to you.

Kento Nanami:

Nanami’s cheeks tinge pink as he makes his way to the door and sees you standing there. There’s a massive grin on your face and you’re holding a grey lunchbox in one hand and a coffee thermos in the other. Despite this being an everyday occurance, Nanami still isn’t used to it.

“I packed your lunch.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips, grabbing the items from your hands. He sets them on the small table just next to the door to free up his hands before immediately wrapping them around your waist. He caresses your sides gently, almost as gently as he kisses you—trying to show all his gratitude and love for you with a single gesture.

You’re flustered when he pulls away, straightening out your clothes while you find your breath once more. You watch Nanami as he grabs his lunch and coffee from the table and pulls his keys out of his pocket, clicking open the lock on the front door.

“Oh!” You call to him just before he steps out. “There’s some extra snacks in there, just in case Yuji wants them!”

His dark eyes fill with admiration, his face falling into that soft look he saves for those closest to him. “You really are the greatest.”

You giggle, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says. “Have a great day today, dear.”

“I will!” You wave at him from the door as he walks to his car. “Oh! And please don’t forget the cutlery at work again!”

“Will do!” His words are punctuated by the closing of his car door followed by the roar of the engine.

You shut the door but the grin doesn’t fall from your face. These mornings are always a highlight for you.

—

Nanami is exhausted by the time he makes it to his lunch hour. Him and Yuji had been running around all afternoon chasing some low grade curse. The second his watch beeped to indicate lunch time, Nanami was already headed to the crosswalk to head to the park across the street, Itadori in tow.

It’s a beautiful day out, the warm sun heating the wood of the park bench just enough to keep it comfortable. He has his most recent novel open on his lap, his lunchbox on the seat next to him. Yuji sits on the other side of his lunch, happily snacking on the extra things you packed for him.

“Y/n really is the best, Nanamin.” He says through a mouthful of food, “packing you all these snacks and keeping you healthy.”

Nanami offers the boy a half grin, though he’s tempted to remind him of his table manners and how rude it is to talk with food in his mouth. He takes a sip of the coffee in his thermos—still warm from this morning—and relaxes farther into the bench. You always make it just the way he likes it, no sugar and hardly any cream.

He reaches a hand into his lunchbox to grab the small container of carrot slices when his fingers graze something else. He closes his novel and leans over to examine the paper he’s just grabbed.

Hope you’re having a great lunch today, honey. Made with love

To the moon and back,

Y/n

He tries to hide his widening grin and reddening cheeks by pretending to cough into his arm, but only succeeds in drawing more attention to his flustered state.

“Are you okay?”

Nanami nods, catching his breath from his fake cough. The heat starts to fade from his face. He pulls his head out of his elbow and turns to address the boy, only for his eyes to widen in horror as he realizes the First Year is clutching the note that was just in his hand.

“Woah,” Yuji’s eyes widen. “It’s like that? You really are lucky, Nanamin.”

Nanami breathes a sigh of relief, glad it was Yuji that found the note and not Nobara or Gojo. Had they found it, he would never hear the end of it.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I am lucky.”

Suguru Geto:

Suguru is shocked when he sees you waiting for him by the door with a small, black bag in your hand. He tilts his head at you when your eyes meet his, as if asking you what you’re doing.

“I threw together a couple of things,” you explain. “For lunch.”

He’s never been cared for like this, never had anyone to pack him a lunch. A million thoughts cross his mind. Thank you, you’re the best, how’d I get so lucky? Of course, none of that comes out.

Instead, he utters a simple, “...why?”

He cringes at the sound of his own voice, bracing himself for you to be disappointed. Luckily, you don’t offend easily and your smile never wavers.

“Well, you were complaining about Satoru only ever wanting to go to sweet shops—and that you were sick of eating lunch alone, so…”

You look down to his hands, suddenly too embarrassed to face him. It felt like a great idea at the moment, but the longer Geto looks at you, the dorkier the idea feels.

Geto closes the gap between you, grabbing your hand from under the lunch box handle. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips, tugging you closer so he can taste you better.

Relief floods through you at his words of gratitude. You lean into the kiss, relishing in the way he feels against you.

“I really do love you, you know?” He says softly when he pulls away, the bag now hanging from his hand.

“I know.”

He looks at you expectantly, giving you the same look he does when you’re acting like a dork or giving him attitude.

“I love you too, Suguru. Now get going! I don’t want you to be late.”

He offers you a small wave before he heads out the door, wondering exactly how he’ll return the favor when he gets home.

—

Satoru stares at Suguru from across the table in the teachers lounge. Even with the blindfold on, Geto can tell the man is eyeing the food he has spread out in front of him.

Gojo raises a finger, about to open his mouth.

“Not a word, Satoru.”

His best friend chuckles, dropping his hands in surrender, and goes back to eating his pastries out of a cute pink box. Geto goes back to his own lunch. Though you claimed you just ‘threw together a few things’, he knows that’s far from the truth.

It must have taken you an hour to prepare it all, at minimum. Not only did you make his favorite meal, but you also packed him steamed, honey coated carrots, a slice of homemade banana bread, and a small thermos of his favorite roasted rice tea.

He pops open the lid of the thermos to smell it, the familiar toasty aroma filling his senses. It smells like home—like the nights where he can’t sleep and you bring him a cup of it mixed with sweet honey.

“What’s this?” Satoru snatches the lid from the desk, flipping it upside down and letting a small piece of stationary fall out.

Suguru groans, reaching desperately across the desk for the lid, only for Satoru’s jaw to fall open. He lets the paper float back down to the desk.

“What?” He demands.

Gojo offers him a teasing grin. “Y/n and Suguru, sitting in a tree….”

Geto scowls and grabs the note before Gojo can pick it up and tease him more. Any annoyance he was feeling at the fellow special grade fades away when he sees your handwriting scrawled across the paper.

Hope Satoru doesn’t give you too much trouble today. I love you so much, can’t wait to hear about your day when you get back

All the stars in the sky,

Y/n

Satoru must not see the way Suguru’s cheeks redden at the sight of the note—or if he does, he doesn’t say anything about it. Though he teases, he couldn’t be any happier for his friend as he watches him read the words on the note over and over, a growing smile on his face.

masterlist | jjk masterlist

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arlana-likes-to-write · 5 months

Text

I Wanna Be In Love

Summary: Soulmates were overrated. They added nothing to the world besides seeing color which wasn't important to Yelena but every time she sees her family with their soul mates she can't help but feel jealous. A little trip to a small town to clear her head, she wasn't expecting to see the world in color.

Warning: soulmate AU, fluff, violence, gun shots, mention of past abuse, mention of killing, cult, injuries, blood, kidnapping?

Word Count: 6.2k

Soulmates were overrated. Yelena was too busy to find her soulmate. They were distractions, and she didn’t need to see color for her job. She didn’t care that she couldn’t see the color of Fanny’s fur or the flowers in Melina’s garden. It didn’t bother her that she had to watch everyone around her interact with their soulmate and see the world in color. She was fine. Those were the thoughts that Yelena kept running through her mind. Every. Single. Day. She crossed paths with many people: Red Room missions, contract work with Valentina, and now her time with the Avengers. Still, her vision remained in black and white. “Are you okay?” Kate asked, sitting down next to her. Yelena was sipping coffee, watching her sister and Maria in the kitchen. Maria was cooking a simple meal for lunch, and it smelt amazing. It would have been done by now, but Natasha kept distracting her. She wrapped her arms around the brunette’s waist or spun her around to kiss her. It was gross. It’s cute but gross.

“I’m fine,” The archer chuckled.

“Yeah, sure, because you look like you’re going to murder your sister,” Yelena sighed, staring into the coffee. “Do you want advice or for me to leave you alone?” The blonde shrugged. Even Kate found her soulmate, a girl she met in college. She was nice. Yelena liked her.

“I want,” Yelena paused, struggling to find the words. Her sister’s laughter caught her attention. This time, Maria had her arms around the redhead, tickling at her sides. A deep ache filled Yelena, a tightness in her chest. “To be in love.” She admitted. Yelena grabbed her coffee and left the archer to get a word out.

Yelena needed to go for a drive. So she packed a few things in her truck for her and Fanny and left the compound. She told her sister and Kate that she needed a small break from missions. They knew an underlying reason for her leaving, but they didn’t question it. Yelena drove with the radio softly on, her best friend in the passenger seat, and no destination in mind. She tried to date, ignoring the soulmate and forcing a relationship to work, but they never did. There was no spark, no flip in her stomach, and her heart didn’t skip. So the relationship ended, and Yelena was left with the constant wonder of what it would feel like to be in love. She wanted the daydreams, jealousy, and all the little things that came with yearning. She wanted the warmth to flood her head.

Her Bluetooth ringing cut through the song she was listening to and her racing thoughts. It was Natasha. With a sigh, she answered the call. “The world better be on fire right now.”

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” Yelena rolled her eyes, offering Fanny some pets as she got excited from hearing Natasha’s voice. “The world is above to be covered in ice and snow,” Yelena frowned. “There is a winter storm warning. You picked a horrible time to go on a self-reflection journey.” The blonde looked at the sky. It was cloudy, and she did notice the temperature dropping. “Where are you?”

“No idea,” she shrugged.

“Sestra…” Natasha sighed.

“I just passed an existing sign for a small town,” the blonde said. “I’ll stop there and wait out the weather.” Yelena could see the tension leaving her sister’s shoulders.

“Okay, text me when you get somewhere safe.” The two Black Widow sisters said their goodbyes, and Yelena sighed when the call ended. This was not part of her plan.

The town of Chester was the spitting image of one of those towns in the cheesy Christmas movies Kate forced her to watch. A mountain that was blanked with snow set the background. The buildings were brick, and a bell tower was at the center of the town. It was cute - peaceful even. A little too friendly as Yelena got out of her truck and was greeted with a smile or wave from those walking on the sidewalk. She put a leash on Fanny’s collar. The American Akita was great off-leash, but the duo was in a new place, and she wasn’t sure how the town felt about a random dog. She put her backpack on and headed to the hotel. It was a quick Google search to determine if the hotel was pet-friendly. The hotel lobby was warm to the point Yelena unzipped her jacket. It was coming from the fireplace with couches and tables around it. It reminded Yelena of the lob cabin that Tony built. The place felt homey. She walked over to the front desk, holding onto Fanny’s leash tightly.

“What a beautiful dog,” her name tag said Linda. “What’s her name?”

“Uh, Fanny,” Yelena said. She was surprised the older woman didn’t bat an eye at her accent. The Akita sat down. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms.” Linda turned to face her computer.

“How long do you plan on staying?” That was a great question.

“Not sure,” she raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde. “I needed a break from work.” Fanny tugged at the leash as Linda gave her an understanding smile.

“I understand that, dear. I need a card to put on file, and I’ll get you all checked in.” Another tug from Fanny’s leash. Odd. As Yelena went to pull out her wallet, Fanny tugged again, and the lease left Yelena’s hand.

“Fanny,” she called out to her dog. “I’m so sorry. Give me one second.” Yelena chased after the dog, who was circling a guest. You were holding a few books and laughing as you tried to move around Fanny’s leash. “I’m so sorry. Fanny, prikhodit’ (come).” The dog stopped and sat next to her owner. You giggled, finally looking up at the Black Widow. The air was knocked out of Yelena’s lungs. Color. She was the color of the wooden lobby she was standing in, the color of the books you held, and your shirt. “Purple,” she whispered. “Your shirt is purple, right?” Natasha loved to spend hours describing colors in words that Yelena could understand. You seemed just as stunned. Your mouth kept opening and closing.

“Yeah,” you said, licking your lips. “I mean, that’s what people tell me.” Your eyes locked with hers. “Green,” you whispered. “Your eyes are green.” Yelena knew that. Natasha spent a whole day describing the colors of her eyes. “I’m Y/n,” Yelena whispered your name back.

“Yelena. It’s nice to meet you.”

The Black Widow was sure she would pace a hole into the floor while Fanny lay on the bed. She spent 20 minutes staring at her reflection. The green of her eyes. Her blonde hair. The colors of the ringers that laced her fingers. She spent the next 10 minutes scrolling through her photos. She saw the red of her sister’s hair, the blue of Kate’s eyes, and the color of the pigs at Melina’s farm. She saw color, and it was beautiful. She opened the text message chain with Natasha. ‘Found a place to stay,’ ‘All checked in,’ ‘Call me when you can.’ She stared at the messages as the minutes clicked by. Finally, her phone rang, but it wasn’t her sister’s voice. “Hello,” Kate said.

“Where’s Natasha?”

“Yelling at Tony and Steve,” the blonde called, hearing the faint yelling in the background. Yelena sat on the bed. Immediately, Fanny rested her head on her lap. She ran her fingers through her white and brown tinted fur.

“Do I need to come back?”

“Nah, she’s got it covered. So what’s up?” Yelena closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I found her,” she whispered. “I can see color.” The archer was silent on the other end. She wondered if the call dropped, but she did hear rustling on the other end. “Kate Bishop,” Yelena spoke slowly.

“Sorry,” Kate sighed. “Tell us everything.”

This was normal. You were outside your newly found soulmates’ room with sweets and a hot chocolate tray. It was normal that you raced home, had a minor panic attack, changed into something cuter, and begged Linda to get Yelena’s room number. Completely normal. Before you lost your nerve, you knocked on the door. You heard movement on the other side, and the door finally opened. Her confused face morphed into a smile. “Hi,”

“Hi,” you said, a little out of breath. Her eyes were memorizing. They were a gorgeous shade of green. You realized you were staring, and your body felt warm from embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “But I brought hot chocolate, and maybe we can talk.” Her smile grew.

“Yeah, let me take this for you,” she took the tray from you and held open the door to her room. She set the tray on the table, and you shut the door. Her dog jumped from her spot and ran over to you. You knelt to pet her.

“You are a gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” she rewarded you with a few kisses. You looked at Yelena, who was holding one of the mugs and had a fond smile on her face. “Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize; it’s cute.” Her statement made you feel even more embarrassed. You stood up, taking the mug she offered. “Do you want to sit here or on the bed, or we can stand,” you giggled. Her cheeks blushed a light pink. “I also have no idea what I’m doing.”

“We can sit here and talk,” you said, sat at the table, and decorated the top of your drink with marshmallows and sprinkles. She sat down next to you, sipping the hot chocolate.

“This is good,” you smiled at her praise. “So tell me about yourself.” You did. You were working at the library while studying to get your degree in environmental science. You’ve lived in Chester for seven years. “Where did you live before this?” You felt your blood turn cold. She was your soulmate, destined to be together or some shit. She would understand, right?

“Uh, Florida,” you sipped on your hot chocolate.

“Florida?” She questioned. “You left the sunshine state for eternal winter.” You giggled.

“Complicated on why I left,” you looked out her window. The snow was coming down harder. “Besides, I love the snow.” Snow meant you weren’t a prisoner. Snow told you escaped. Snow meant freedom.

“Do you need to head out before it gets worse?”

“Kicking me out already?” You teased. Her eyes widened. “I’m kidding. I can leave if you want me to.” She shook her head.

“No, stay, please.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “So why did you choose to study environmental science?” You spent the next few hours learning about one another. It got close to dinner time, so Yelena ordered room service to her room. It was a simple plate of burgers and fries that you tried to help pay for, but she refused your money. It was oddly lovely learning about the Avenger, significantly since you believed you’d never find your soulmate. You spent your entire life trapped on your father’s property, hidden from the world. Until you saved enough money and ran, ran, and ran some more. This small town of Chester welcomed you and didn’t question your mysterious past.

You found yourself laughing at a story Yelena was telling you. “Why did you fill her entire room with rubber ducks?” You asked once your laughter died down. Yelena smiled

“Kate Bishop, Peter Parker, and I are involved in a serious prank war,” she explained. “She died my suits hot pink, so I filled her room with 500 rubber ducks.” You giggled, glancing at the clock. It was almost 10 o’clock.

“I should get going,” you said. “You’ve had a long day of traveling.” Something flashed in her green eyes that you missed, but she smiled.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best.” You helped her clean up the food and put the extra in her fridge. You gave Fanny extra belly rubs before Yelena walked you to the door. “Here,” she handed you a piece of paper with her number. “I should have given you this when we met,” you giggled, putting it in your pocket, then slipped your jacket on.

“I could have done the same,” you began to play with the ring on your finger. It was a gift from your mother. “There is a diner in town that serves amazing breakfast. Do you want to meet there in the morning?” Her smile grew.

“I’d love to. Text me the name,” you nodded. There was this awkward pass between you and her, unsure of how to end this. “You could stay,” she whispered. “Because of the weather.” She added on quickly. You wanted to. Some of you wanted to know what it felt like to be held in her arms, or would she want you to hold her? You sighed.

“I want to, but I shouldn’t. We should take this slow.” Yelena nodded, slipping her hands in her pockets and looking down at her feet. You gathered up some courage and took a step forward in her space. Gently, you lifted her head and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” her cheeks were flushed. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smiled and turned to leave, but her hand grabbed yours, spun you back around, and connected her lips with yours. You tensed up, not expecting her to kiss you. She pulled away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been thinking about-” You cut her off with a kiss. The feeling of her lips on yours was a feeling you would get addicted to. You moved your hands to cup her cheeks and pulled her closer. Fanny barked, and it startled you apart. Yelena groaned, her head falling onto your shoulder. You chuckled.

“I’ll text you when I’m back safe, okay?” You kissed her one more time before leaving her room. You rested your back on the closed door, touching your fingers to your lips. They tingled as you still felt her lips against yours. Smiling, you left the hotel and walked back to your apartment.

‘I’m back. It was amazing getting to know you. See you in the morning.’ Yelena smiled at her phone. “Ooo, it’s that the new boo,” Natasha teased. Yelena groaned, flopping onto her back while on a video call with her sister. “When do we get to meet her?

“I do not know,” Yelena sighed. “She’s lived here for seven years. I can’t force her to leave.” But Yelena was worried about the life you left behind, the life you weren’t discussing. You gave no details - Yelena wasn’t stupid, though. She was a former Red Room assassin, a hired gun, and now an Avenger. She made it this far because she listened to her instincts. You were scared.

“You have your thinking face on,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, but she knew Natasha did not believe her. She could use her connections to discover the truth, but that was a breach of trust. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, sestra.” The two sisters said goodnight, and Yelena set her alarm for the morning. She put her phone on the nightstand and cuddled up with Fanny. The dog rested her head on Yelena’s chest. “How did you know?” She asked, scratching her head. “Or did you just find her cute?” Fanny liked her hand. “You are a great wingdog.” She chuckled and closed her eyes. It was a busy day, and sleep found her quickly.

The smell of coffee and cinnamon filled your senses as you opened the door to The Lighthouse. It was warm, a stark contrast to the temperatures outside. You saw Yelena in the corner, back to the kitchen, and she faced the door. Smiling, you walked over to her. “Hi,” you said, removing your scarf and placing it on the hook. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.” She shook her head as she stood up, helped you out of your jacket, and hung it up.

“I wasn’t,” you sat down. “I just ordered some coffee.” You grabbed her hand, running your thumb over her knuckles. She smiled at the gesture. You determined you loved making her smile. “Now tell me what to get.”

You ordered the waffles with strawberries on top, and Yelena got the pancakes with scrambled eggs. Once breakfast was done, you argued with Yelena about who would pay (you won) and went back to the hotel room to get Fanny. You showed them around your tiny home, the best views of the mountains, where the kids went ice skating, and the route for the parade for every major holiday.

You sat on a bench near the park, watching Fanny run around in the snow. Your head was resting on Yelena’s shoulder, fingers intertwined with hers. “How long are you staying here?” You felt her shoulders move up and down as she sighed.

“Not sure,” she kissed the top of your head. “As long as I can, but we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. ‘We’ll figure it out.”

Yelena should have known better. Her happiness would get stripped away as soon as the world was kind to her. It happened when she was six and blipped, resulting in her losing five years. It was not a surprise when she found her soulmate; Avenger duties would call. You were very understanding, but Yelena could see the disappointment on your face as you said goodbye to her and Fanny. The Black Would promised to call and visit as soon as possible. You kissed her softly, telling her to stay safe. It was one of the hardest goodbyes she had to make. Her teammates knew she was upset when she returned to the compound after being away for four days. But she had an obligation, an annoying obligation, but an obligation nonetheless. So she was on a mission with your lips on hers, the phantom feeling of your fingers playing with her rings, and your smile on her mind. It was those things, and the promise to see you kept her going.

Yelena dropped her bag to the ground as soon as she entered her room. Her body ached, and she screamed for a day off. She returned from a two-month deep undercover mission. That type of work was her favorite; convincing the people around her she was someone else was thrilling, but she was glad to be home. The bad guys were caught, and it was time to relax. She lay on her bed and pulled out her phone. There was limited contact, so it was quick text messages between you and Yelena. No phone calls meant Yelena was dying to hear your voice, but she knew you were at work. She sent a quick test, ‘Back home. Call me when you’re done. Miss you.’ She ensured her ringer was up before setting it on her side table. Sleep was quick to follow the Black Widow.

The shrill sound of her phone ringing woke her up. Though her eyes were laced with sleep, she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” She answered.

“Hi, this is Miss. Yelena, right?” The blonde sat up.

“Speaking, can I ask whose calling?” She knew that voice, but her sleep-deprived brain had trouble connecting.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s Linda, the owner of the Woodland Hotel. I do apologize for intruding, and I got your number from when you checked in,” Linda explained. “Oh, this is a complete breach of privacy.”

“Linda,” Yelena cut off her nervous rambling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Y/n,” the owner of the hotel said. The blonde was quick to her feet, still wearing the clothes she returned in, and walked over to her room. “She is going to kill me when she finds out I called you.”

“Is she in danger?” She took the stairs two at a time to get to her sister’s room and banged on the door. Maria opened the door, and she pushed past her sister’s girlfriend.

“Yes,” Linda said. “You need to get Chester quickly.”

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you walked the typical streets of Chester, where you once felt safe. They were here. You weren’t sure how your father’s me found you, but they did. They were waiting - they sat at the diner you and Yelena ate at or checked in at the Woodland Hotel. But you weren’t sure what they were waiting for, so you were trapped. You took your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door, quickly going in and locking the door. You made a beeline for your bedroom, slamming the door closed and pushing our dresser in front of it. Dumping the contents of your bag on your bed, you find your phone and see the missed message from Yelena. You hesitated on calling the blonde. This was your mess, and she had just returned from a mission. With a sigh, you hit the call button. “Sweetheart,” you sounded panicked.

“Hi baby,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but you knew she heard it. “I’m in a little bit of trouble.” She laughed.

“I know,” she knew? She knew? How the hell-oh you were going to kill Linda. “I’m almost there. Where are you?”

“My apartment,” you walked into your closet and used your thumb to open up a small gun safe. “Front door is locked, and I pushed my dresser against my bedroom door,” you felt oddly calm. Something about hearing Yelena’s voice made you believe you would be okay. You loaded the pistol and put two extra magazines in your back pocket. “There are 5 of them. Probably armored with an assault rifle, pistol, and a knife.” You grabbed the knife that your father gave you for your 5th birthday. The man was a leader of a religious doomsday cult; he taught you how to be around weapons. “They are only here to capture me, but they’ll kill anyone in their way.” Yelena was quiet.

“Impressive,” you chuckled, putting the phone on speaker.

“I’ve been running from them for a long time,” you said, removing your shirt and putting on a bulletproof vest.

“Who are they?” A voice you didn’t know asked. “Natasha.” Damn, she was bringing the cavalry. You toed off your sneakers and wore combat boots and a new long-sleeved shirt.

“They call themselves the Arms,” you sighed. This was not how you wanted to tell her. “They are part of the security for my father.”

“And who is your father?” Another voice asked. “Kate.” She added on. You closed your eyes.

“Vincent Pierce.”

“Vincent Pierce,” a new voice repeated, and you knew the name. “Your soulmate is the daughter of a man on the FBI and Shield’s most wanted list.” You chuckled darkly.

“She didn’t know,” you said. “Not something I like to talk about on the first date.” You got Kate to laugh. “If I get out of this, I’ll help you put the son of a bitch in jail.”

“Not if,” Yelena said. You heard her take you off speaker and walk away. “When you get out of this.” You sighed. She was so unaware of the power your father had.

“Lena, if-”

“No,” she snapped. “We are 15 minutes out.” You heard a bang on your front door. “Do you have a weapon?”

“Pistol and a knife. I have two extra magazines.” Another bang forced you to stand up and undo the safety of the gun. You were so tired of the power that man had over you. You’ve been free from him for years, but you should have known better. His power was like a vice grip on your neck as long as he was alive. You were squeezing until you couldn’t breathe. It was so unfair.

Everyone dreamed of finding their soulmate and having that happily ever after. Your mom talked about finding hers one day. She spent her entire life seeing the world in black and white. “I love you,” Yelena laughed.

“Say that again when your life isn’t threatened,” she said. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You were going to keep that promise.

The small town of Chester erupted into chaos as the sounds of gunshots came from your apartment. You told Yelena there were only 2 of them before the line went dead, so they were missing 3. Kate and Yelena ran towards your apartment. She didn’t expect the second time being here to save you from your cult leader father’s minions.

The front door was on the ground, and Yelena already had her gun out. It was too quiet for her, and a man was lying face down in a pool of blood. The archer walked over and checked his pulse. She shook her head. They moved into your room and saw another body, and you were barely holding yourself up. Panic filled Yelena as she rushed over to you. “I’m fine,” you said. She saw no blood, but she pulled up your shirt and stared at the bulletproof vest that saved your life.

“Oh, dorogoy (sweetheart),” you chuckled, and Yelena kissed you so intensely that the world around her was drowned out until Kate cleared her throat.

“I love this for both of you,” the archer smiled. Yelena felt you burrow your face in the crook of her neck. “But I think we should get a move on.” The Black Widow sighed.

“Your right,” Yelena said. “Sorry.” Kate shrugged.

“Give me a second,” Yelena reluctantly let you go, and you walked into your closet, taking off the ripped shirt and the bulletproof vest. You grabbed a sweatshirt before turning around to face them, making sure it covered the pistol that was attached to your hip. The blonde could see a bruise forming on your stomach. “I’m down to one magazine,” you checked your gun.

“I have an extra one you can have,” Yelena told you. “We have her.” She said through the coms. Kate handed you an extra one to put in your ear.

“2 of the men have been dealt with,” Kate added.

“Do we have eyes on the other 3?” You asked. Yelena was impressed. You were handling this well, almost as if you were a shield agent. Once this was over, she could convince you to join the team.

‘Negative,’ Natasha said as Yelena led the group down the stairs and out your apartment door. The town was quiet. It was up to Maria to get all the civilizations back inside their house. ‘Has anyone seen or heard from Maria?’

“No,” Yelena answered her sister. “Do you want us to look for her or meet at the Randevu point?” The redhead sighed, and Yelena knew the internal debate she was having.

‘Get your girl to safety,’ Yelenafelt you grab her hand. Her girl. Her soulmate - who was still in danger and needed to get out of this place.

“Little bunny,” you froze, feet stopping in the snow. Yelena looked towards the direction of the voice. Vincent Pierce was decked out in his signature red suit, and 2 men were on either side. The color drained from your face. “Little bunny, it’s time to come home.”

“Little bunny, it’s time to come home,” the nickname made the little food in your stomach flip. It was once a name that provided comfort, a sign of love, but like everything your father touched, it turned to poison. You dropped Yelena’s hand and faced him. Now that you could see color, the suit was hideous - aviator glasses on and his hair slicked back with gel. “My, my, my,” he took off the sunglasses and handed them to the man on his left. “You’ve grown up.”

“It’s been a while, but I don’t have time for a family reunion. I have somewhere important to be.” You grabbed Yelena’s hand and began to walk away, but the sound of assault rifles being pointed at you caused the three of you to stop.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said. “Bring you out.” You spun around quickly to see the third man drag a woman. She was handcuffed, and they pushed her down to her knees in front of your father.

“Maria,” you looked at Kate. There was blood dripping down the side of her head. She was pissed, but at least she was alive. You heard Natasha mutter something in Russia.

“She a friend of yours,” your father taunted.

“Let her go,” you held up your arms to stop Yelena and Kate.

“Stop,” you said to all three of them. This had to be done carefully, or they would all go home in body bags. “What do you want, Vincent? She has nothing to do with this.” You pointed to Maria.

“She does, little bunny because she and the other Avengers are keeping you away from me,” of course. The man was obsessed with control. You were surprised he’d kept you alive this long.

‘Keep him talking,’ Natasha said. ‘I’m almost in position.’ You could do that. He loved to talk.

“Why do you want me to go with you so bad?” You questioned. “Don’t you have enough people under your control?”

“Because you are my daughter,” you scuffed. You were a pawn, another tool used so he could convince others to join him. The same went for your mom. “And I’m the only one who can protect you from the Rapture.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a little girl anymore that will feed into your lies,” you took a deep breath. “I see right through them just like mom did.” You knew bringing her up would strike a nerve. His jaw clenched.

“Your mother was a nonbeliever,” he repeated the same lie. “She was a danger to the cult and you.”

“We need to end this,” Yelena mumbled. “The three min’ony (minions) are getting antsy.” They were. You saw their posture change.

“No,” you said, your hand grazing the pistol on your hip. “You killed her because she wanted to leave. You killed her,” you grabbed your pistol and ignored the way Yelena tried to warn you. “Natasha, get ready,” you mumbled. “Just like how I’m going to kill you.” You drew your pistol at him. Immediately, three assault rifles were pointed at you, and Kate and Yelena drew their weapons. When you fled your father’s prison, you bounced between roadside motels, and every night, without fail, there would be an old Western movie would be on TV. You felt like you were in one now. Maria sat up straighter, fidgeting with the cuffs on her wrist. Your father smiled.

“You won’t kill me,” you undid the safety on the gun. “You don’t have the guts, the strength. That’s the one thing I couldn’t beat into you,” your palm began to feel sweaty. It took weeks for some of the bruises to fade. “You are a weak, spineless little girl, just like your mother.” Oh, you wanted to kill the bastard, but you couldn’t. So you lowered your gun.

“Your right,” you said. You saw Maria nod her head. “I can’t kill you.” You smiled. “But my friend can hurt you. We still need to find the people you’ve held hostage.” It happened rather quickly. A single shot ran through the small town, and a bullet hit your father in the leg. Kate hit the man on the left, and Yelena shot the man on the right. Which left the man that brought Maria out; the brunette kicked her leg out and tripped the man. She jumped up, grabbed him by his winter coat, and punched him until he stopped moving.

The snow crunched below on your feet as you approached your father. There was red staining the snow. “Are you alright?” Yelena asked Maria. The brunette nodded.

“You know, I just had to dislocate my thumbs to break free,” you chuckled, but your eyes remained on the man. He was clenching his leg, which had the bullet wound in it.

“Don’t just stand there, you bitch,” he hissed. “Do something before I bleed out.”

“You don’t get to speak to her like that,” Yelena pulled her pistol on her. “You have no power over her.” There was a small part in you that wanted her to pull the trigger, to kill the monster that haunted your dreams, but it wouldn’t end it. Another one of his men would take his spot. You stepped before her, back to your father, and wrapped your arms around her body.

“Don’t,” you whispered, kissing her neck. “He’s not worth it.” Vincent laughed. The sound caused goosebumps to cover your skin.

“You found her,” you turned to face him as Kate forced the man up and handcuffed him. “You found your soulmate. How adorable.” He lunged forward, but Kate held him back. “Just because I’ll be locked away, this won’t end. The Rapture -” The archer punched him and fell back into the snow.

“That man needs to learn to shut up,” she shook her hand. “He’s got a hard jaw.” You laughed as you heard the sound of hurried footsteps against the snow. A redhead ran over to Maria, wrapping her arms around her; the force lifted her slightly. You smiled at the sight. Yelena tilted your head to look at her.

“Say it,” she whispered.

“I love you, Yelena Belova.” You said without hesitation. Yeah, it was good to keep your promise.

“We found it,” Maria placed the file on the table before you. You were at the Avenger’s Compound. It didn’t take much convincing for you to make a move until your father was prosecuted and sent to the RAFT. You’ve helped Maria bring down The True Creed for the past week. It was tasking, all the things you had to relive that you wanted to forget. Fanny stood up from her spot underneath the table and rested her head on your lap. The American Akita was your source of comfort when Yelena wasn’t around. Inside the folder were SHIELD agents raiding your father’s compound. “We are working with local officials to get everyone home safe and the help they need to recover.”

“It’s over?” You questioned, looking at the deputy director. She smiled, placing a comforting on your shoulder.

“It’s over. Your father or his men can’t hurt you or anyone else.” You let out a shaky breath. You never thought you would see this day. Freedom. You could go anywhere without having to look over your shoulder.

“Thank you, Maria,” you put the pictures back in the folder and handed them back to her. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to repay you.”

“Shut up,” she huffed, hitting your head with the file. “We should be thanking you.” You rubbed the back of your head with a pout. “So, what’s the plan now?” She asked. “Got to high tail it out of here and travel the world.” You laughed, scratching Fanny’s head.

“Yeah, maybe,” she hit the file against her hand.

“Well, do it. You deserve it.” You talked with her a bit about helping those under your father’s ‘brain control’ until Natasha pulled her away. She claimed that since the case was over, they could spend some time together. You smiled and looked down at the dog.

“Come on, sweet girl, let’s go find your mama,” it wasn’t hard to find the blonde. She was in the kitchen making a big pot of mac and cheese. You weren’t sure how she could stomach so much of the cheesy noddles. You wrapped your arms around her waist. Immediately, she leaned back into your embrace. “Smells good, baby,” you said, kissing her neck.

“Mmmm, it’s almost done,” she said. You kept kissing her neck. “If someone will stop distracting me.” She pushed you away playfully. Pouting, you gave her some space. It lasted 30 seconds.

“Baby, can I see your eyes?” She huffed, shook her head, and turned down the food. The color of her eyes still took your breath away. The green reminded you of chasing fireflies - their light would warm the night. Her eyes were like emeralds, like four-lead clovers; when you found them, you would have luck. Green was Mother Nature’s favorite color. The color was a healthy sign of love. It was unbelievable you went so long without seeing that color. “You are beautiful, Yelena Belova,” the blonde rolled her eyes.

“And you are a sap,” she teased but couldn’t fight the smile on her face. “What do you want?” You held out your hand, and she took it.

“Maria said it’s over,” her eyes lit up. “We can go anywhere we want to do.” Late nights were spent in each other’s arms, dreaming of seeing the world together. But Yelena wanted to wait until you were safe and could enjoy your time.

“Really?” She questioned. You nodded with a smile. “We are going to visit St. Petersburg first. I want to see the pigs.” You laughed as Yelena pulled you into her arms. Her lips briefly brushed against yours. “I love you, Deka.” You smiled, heart, skipping at the simple three-letter word.

“I love you too.”

#yelena belove x reader #yelena belove x you #yelena belova x y/n #black widow imagine #black widow one shot #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you

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lives-in-midgard · 3 months

Text

Elevator Confession

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader

Summary: What will happen if you get stuck in an elevator with Yelena, the person you have a crush on?

Word Count: 940

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for giving me this idea. I hope you like it!! 💞

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

A few years ago you took the opportunity to join the Avengers. You went on missions with them and after a while you became very close to the other Avengers. When Natasha introduced Yelena to you a year ago, you immediately got along with her. After a few months, you and Yelena became very good friends, but you also started to have feelings for her. Just like Yelena did for you.

But you both decided to keep your feelings a secret from each other until you suddenly confessed your feelings on the following day:

It’s been a while since you’ve seen and talked to Yelena. Because you had a crush on her you wanted to put some distance between the two of you but this wasn’t easy because you started missing her a lot.

That day you went to the compound for a meeting with the other Avengers. You got there on time and as you walked towards the elevator you saw Yelena go in as well.

“Please wait for me!” You yelled and Yelena turned around and started smiling when she saw you.

“Only if you hurry up!” She yelled back, making you laugh. You walked to Yelena. After greeting each other, she pressed the button for the floor where the meeting would take place. Silence began to grow between the two of you and you didn’t know what to say. You got nervous and looked around, and when you saw the buttons of the elevator you suddenly got an idea. You looked at Yelena with a smile. She noticed your smile and started to chuckle.

“What got you smiling like that?” She asked curiously.

“What do you think would happen if I clicked all the buttons?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Yelena said.

“But I think it would be interesting and fun to see what happens.” You said excitedly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N.” Yelena warned you again, but you were already standing next to the buttons and started clicking all of them. It looked funny how all the buttons started to light up, but then suddenly the elevator stopped, the light went out and you flinched.

“I told you this isn’t a good idea.” Yelena said annoyed, but when the light came back on, she saw a scared and panicked look on your face. You were so nervous and started clicking the button, hoping that the door would open. You were so nervous that you didn’t even hear Yelena say your name.

“Oh, noo noo. This can’t happen.”

“Shit, I’m stuck…I’m stuck in an elevator.” Out of nervousness you started playing with your hands. Yelena moved closer to you and gently placed her hand on yours to make you stop. She smiled at you and gently moved her thumb over your hands. You began to calm down and took deep breaths with her.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re not alone.” Yelena said after a while.

“Shit, you’re right. I’m stuck with you…the person I have a crush on.” You suddenly confessed out of panic. You quickly pulled your hand away from Yelena and covered your mouth.

“What did you just say?” Yelena asked.

“Oh no, I didn’t want you to find it out like that.”

“So, you really have a crush on me?” Yelena asked with a grin and you got nervous again.

“Yeah, now you know my secret.” You confessed and Yelena came closer to you. So, that there were only a few inches between the two of you.

“What would you say if I told you that I have feelings for you too?” Yelena asked and you began to blush.

“You do?” You asked quietly and Yelena nodded. You started to smile, and Yelena took the last step between the two of you.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” She asked softly and all you could do was nod, which made Yelena chuckle.

“Are you sure?” She asked again.

“I’m so sure.” You said, making her smile. Yelena placed her hand on your cheek and smiled at you. You couldn’t wait for her to kiss you any longer, so you pulled her closer and kisser her. You could feel Yelena begin to smile as your lips touched hers. The kiss started gently but then became more passionate. You enjoyed the kiss so much that you completely forgot where you were until suddenly a sound was to hear and the elevator door opened. Yelena and you quickly let go of each other and looked at the elevator door where Natasha was standing, grinning at the two of you. She just looked at the two of you, nodded at you, then turned around and walked away. You looked at Yelena and you both started to laugh.

“That was so weird.” You said after you stopped laughing.

“Yeah, it was.” Yelena said and you looked at the clock on your phone.

“We missed the meeting.” You confirmed.

“Would you like to have a coffee somewhere?” Yelena asked and you started to smile.

“Sure” you said and walked back into the elevator. Yelena pressed the button in the elevator, but this time you stayed by her side and held her hand instead of pressing all the buttons.

You went to a coffee shop not far away from here and enjoyed the evening together. Later that day, Natasha told you everything important from the meeting and that she is really happy for both of you. Exactly like you and Yelena are. You still can’t believe that Yelena feels the same way about you, but it also makes you so happy.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @yelenasdiary | @youralphawolf72

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lunaroserites · 1 month

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Too Sweet - Drabble

This song has been on loop in my head for days, it has me in a choke hold.

Paring: Established Bucky X Fem!Reader (Sugar)

Summery: Just a snippet at Sugar and Bucky's juxtaposition as a couple. Bucky is an Avenger and Nat's alive.

Warnings: Mild depiction of violence, blood, alcohol and fluff, implied smut at the end.

Word Count: ~560

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

His vibranium arm made contact with this guy's jaw instantly snapping it. He dropped him to the ground and shook the blood off his arm and it splattered on the concrete below his feet.

You watered your little ivy plant and touched the leaf gently, examining it for decay. You placed the small watering can down and then scratched under the little white cat's chin. She mewled softly and purred loudly.

“Fuck,” he groaned and shot back his whiskey as Widow pulled glass from his flesh arm. Jumping through a window to pursue a target wasn’t the smartest move. But he got him. His vibranium fist clenched the shot glass tightly as Sam poured more amber liquid in it.

You pulled his sweater on and pulled your thigh high socks up and snuggled into the plush couch he helped you pick out when you moved in. Alpine snuggled into the gray fluffy blanket tucked next to you as she stretched her front legs out. The book you were reading clutched tightly in your hands as you got to the good part. You phone laid face up, a picture of him smushing a kiss to your cheek displayed as it lit up from a text.

“I’ll take a black coffee,” his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you placed your order, a caramel frappe with extra caramel. He scrunched his nose up at the sickly sweet concoction you drank happily as you walked together up the street toward your shared apartment.

Black combat boots were lined up next to your ballet flats, his leather jacket hung next to your peach linen coat. Your flowery phone case laid next to his plain black case on the island counter. Your key lanyard was adorned with tickets and pretty keychains and 2 small keys, and his was a plain key loop with about 10 different keys and couple key cards.

Alpine rubbed up against his rough black jeans a couple times before circling your bare legs and playing with the scalloped hem of your sundress. You reached down and picked the little cat up and cuddled her in your arms, Bucky rubbed under her chin with his metal hand and she purred.

“Bucky come to bed?” You called softly leaning against the office door frame, it was 2am, you had been bed a couple hours waiting for him at this point. He preferred doing his reports at night, less likely to be interrupted. He turned in his computer chair and took in the sight of you, his t-shirt hung over your frame, bare feet and a sleepy smile. He opened his arms for you to come and snuggle into his chest while he finished the last of his reports.

“You’re too sweet for me,” he murmured softly into your hair and you passed him a cup of black coffee.

“You could always do with some sugar hunny,” you said with a sweet smile. Your gruff, rough around the edges boyfriend, and you his sweet as sugar, soft in every way girlfriend. He would never understand how he landed you.

“You’re the only sugar I’ll ever need,” he whispered into your ear, and his teeth grazed the shell lightly. You shivered at his words and clenched your thighs as his hands gripped your waist gathering his shirt up higher as he picked you and planted you on the counter, filling the space between your legs as they fell open.

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more. <3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #fluff #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #no use of y/n #reader insert #bucky barnes fluff

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 months

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Falling for you

Summary: When you decided to bring your daughter to Colombia to work for the CIA to take Pablo Escobar down, you never thought you would find someone to fall in love with....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: colleagues to friends to lovers, reader has a daughter, mentions of dead husband, death of best friend, angst, fluff, domestic Javi, kissing, smut (unprotected sex), feeeeeelings

A/N: This fic has been in the making for almost 2 years. I can't really explain why, but it took a long time and before I keep on editing it, I put it out in the world. I'm aware the last thing the CIA would do is send a single mother with her child to Columbia in the eighties but this is fiction and I don't want to hear complaints lol Also please let me know how you like the mood boards this year. I'm trying to change things up

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

“He’s starring again.” You looked up from the file you were reading, looking at your partner Enrique before you let your eyes wander to the desk across the room. You had been here in Colombia for a good three months now. It might have been the worst idea you ever had to take your daughter with you to one of the most dangerous countries in the world, but it was not like something was holding you back in the states.

You were used to the looks of all the men who thought they were more important than you.

More intelligent than you.

The whispers behind your back.

The catcalls.

How they always tried to talk over you. But they didn’t know what you knew. They didn’t know the resources you had. Working as one of the few women at the CIA as an active agent took a lot from you. But you did it for the greater good. You did not talk to many of the men working in your department. Except for your partner Enrique and your supervisor. You and Enrique had been working together back in the states and him coming with you was one of the conditions you had before you agreed to go. You needed someone you could trust if you would work here to help to take down the biggest drug cartel in the world. You needed someone you could trust your daughter with, apart from the two nannies the CIA was providing all around the clock.

Of course the safer and easier way would have been to stay back in the states. Where your daughter could play outside without being watched by at least one CIA Agent. But ever since your husband died almost four years ago on a mission, you had been searching for the change you needed in your life. And against all better judgement you found yourself agreeing to go and take your six year old daughter Eva with you to Colombia. Was it crazy? Obviously. Did it still feel like the right decision? Absolutely.

Javier Peña was looking at you, a cigarette between his lips. The first three buttons of his baby blue shirt were open and his finger kept rubbing over the side of his face. You nodded at him before you focused back on the files in front of you.

“Do you think he would still look at you like that if he knew about Eva?” Enrique whispered. You rolled your eyes.

“He can look at me all he wants. I know how good I look today,” you chuckled and made him laugh. You were wearing a white silk blouse and dark red dress pants.

You did enjoy flirting with Javier Peña.

He and his partner Steve were the only ones around here who actually talked to you. And in Javier’s case, try to get into your pants. And a part of you did enjoy the attention you got for him.

No one had looked at you like he did since your late husband.

And even though you knew it was dangerous to entertain his flirtations, you found yourself doing it. You found yourself thinking about him more often, even though you knew that nothing would ever come out of it. He was, well, he was Javier Peña. Fucking everything that just looked his way and you were a widowed single mom.

Of course you did enjoy it when he invited you for a drink after work at the bar around the corner. Who wouldn’t enjoy being invited for a drink by a handsome man? The problem you had was that he knew exactly how handsome he was and he knew how to use it. Because deep down, in the moments Javier Peña was just himself and not the guarded DEA Agent with commitment issues, you could see him as a man you could fall in love with.

“Why did we end up in this shithole again?” Enrique asked. You were about to answer when Carillo came back in, shouting in Spanish and everyone around got up and moved.

“What’s happening?” You asked, internally cursing yourself for not knowing more Spanish.

“Something about La Quico and a brothel?”

There was something about La Quico and a brothel and you knew from the moment you heard about the intel and the plan that it would go to shit. Now, as you were standing outside, bulletproof vest still on, watching how body after body was carried out of the building, you kept shaking your head.

If any of these fuckers would have just listened to you.

Woman after woman was carried out. Dead. But your knees almost gave out when you saw your partner's lifeless body being carried out. Hugging yourself, you looked away from him and up to the sky to stop yourself from crying, They did not need to see you crying. You would wait to break down until you were home and after your daughter was tucked it.

You felt someone stand next to you.

“I’m sorry,” Javier said and you breathed in deeply, not looking away from the sky.

“It’s not your fault,” you answered quietly. Because it wasn’t. Javier actually had been more than vocal about what a shit idea this was in the first place.

“I’m still sorry,” you smelled the smoke he breathed out and you finally looked at him. He looked as tired as you felt. You reached for the cigarette between his lips inhaling the smoke yourself, before you handed it back to him. Steve came to stand beside him, the same tired expression on his face.

“I think we could all use a drink,” he said and you sighed.

“He’s been my partner for more than 8 years. And my friend for almost 20,” you shook your head, looking at Steve before your eyes fell back on Javier.

“I really wanna go home.”

“We’ll take you.” Steve said.

You could still see the lights on in your daughters room and you sighed. You weren’t ready to tell her that her Uncle Ric wouldn’t be helping her with her Spanish skills anymore, that he wouldn’t help her paint her bedroom after he made the big plan for her to get her jungle book room.

“I’ll walk you in,” Javier said as the car stopped. You only nodded, saying your thanks to Steve as you stepped out and walked across the street.

“Are you okay on your own tonight?” He asked, as you opened the door to the house, walking in. Javier kept following you.

“I’m not alone, and I am planning on getting drunk and then cry myself to sleep. It’s Saturday tomorrow right?” You asked and he nodded.

“I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Javier said quietly. You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes and you prayed he would just turn around and leave. You just nodded, your lips already trembling. The reality of how alone you felt hit you like a brick as you looked at the apartment door across from yours, where Enrique lived… used to live.

“Please go Javier. I don’t need you to see me breaking down,” you pleaded and turned away from him, putting the key into the lock of your apartment.

He sighed before he said your name. You felt his hand on your shoulder and against your better judgement you turned around and let him pull you against him, as you sobbed into his shirt.

You blamed it on the loss of your best friend, the need to feel something, that you just leaned in, your ear on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his hands rubbed soothingly over your back.

“You are going to get through this,” he whispered. You enjoyed this moment. Standing outside of your apartment in his arms. He wasn’t being a flirt. He was just there to comfort you. You breathed in deeply, his scent in your nose and you had never noticed just how good he smelled.

“Thank you Javier,” you whispered and brought some distance in between you. Looking up into his tired eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you, you were more than grateful when you heard footsteps behind your door. Untangling yourself from him you brushed your tears away and put a smile on your lips just in time before the door opened. Eva jumped into your arms as you turned around.

“I missed you Mommy!” She giggled and you felt yourself smile as you picked her up and carried her in your arms.

“I missed you too, princess,” you whispered into her hair, before you set her down.

Looking up you saw Maria standing there with a tired smile on her lips.

“I tried everything Miss, but she wanted to wait until you’re home.”

“It’s okay. Thank you,” you nodded at her. She looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding Javier standing in your door as if he was out of place. Maria nodded at him as she said her goodbyes. He stepped out of her way as she left.

“Either in or out Pena,” you said. He looked at you, about to open his mouth when Eva came back with a painting she had made today.

“Who is that?” She asked looking at Javier.

“That is one of the Agents I’m working with,” you explained nodding at him. He still looked between you and Eva like a fish out of the water before he shook out of it.

“I’m Javi. And I should go before my partner drives off without me,” he said the last words looking at you. You nodded.

“Bye Javi. Thanks for bringing my mom home safe,” Eva smiled, and you sighed.

“Go brush your teeth, I’ll tuck you in in just a moment, okay?” You smiled down at her, your hands brushing over her cheek before you leaned down to kiss her forehead. She nodded, waving towards Javier and left the room to go to the bathroom.

“She’s a…” Javier began.

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking towards him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“You never asked,” you shrugged. He nodded. You could see the many questions he had in his eyes.

“Will the two of you be okay here tonight? Alone?”

“We will. Thank you. And now go, before Steve actually drives off without you,“ you smiled forced.

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday?” He asked, sucking his bottom lip in. You nodded.

“Good night Javier,” He nodded too and turned around, slowly walking down the hallway.

“It’s Javi,” he called over his shoulder and you frowned.

“Friends get to call me Javi,” he looked at you. You had to smile at that before you finally closed the door behind you.

Within two weeks after this day, everything had changed. You moved into the same building as Javi and Steve, after a brief visit to the states for Enrique’s funeral. You actually found a close friend in Steve’s wife Connie. But most of all the absence of your best friend had been hard on you.

You never actually told him how grateful you were for his help. And for coming to this country with you, just because you felt the need to change your life. You spend the nights crying yourself to sleep, feeling responsible for his death. If he hadn’t agreed to come down to Colombia with you, he would still be alive.

And you wouldn’t have to look into your daughters sad eyes when she remembered that Uncle Ric wouldn’t come around to cook her favourite meal. You never learned the secret on what exactly Enrique did with the mac & cheese that made her go absolutely nuts, and now you wouldn’t have a chance to.

Work had been one big mess ever since the fail at the brothel. And it took all willpower you had to not go around and tell everyone “I told you so”. You also had a new partner. Well, two. Steve and Javier insisted on you joining them. Not that you had a chance when you came back on Monday morning and your desk was standing a joined to theirs. You had spend the whole weekend crying when you weren’t around Eva and this had almost made you tear up again.

Javier had almost entirely stopped flirting with you, which was the biggest change. He had actually been nothing but nice and respectful and you were wondering what it was that made him like this. Not that you minded.

He made the effort to get to know you, asking little question here and there. Asking about Eva and what her hobbies were.

You were fascinated by this side of Javi you got to know now.

But somehow you missed the way he used to look at you.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Steve asked, as you were sitting over another file of leads going nowhere.

“We wanted to paint Eva’s room. She chose green. And I absolutely hate it,” you chuckled.

“How come you never told anyone you had a kid?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“No one ever asked,” You shrugged.

“People don’t really talk to me because I'm CIA and I'm a woman. And I don’t speak more than 10 words of Spanish.”

“Yikes, we really are assholes,” Steve shook his head and you laughed.

“Well… You’re not that bad. And you have a wife that bakes cake, so you’re on my good side,” you joked and Steve chuckled.

“But what is going on with Javier lately?”

“So you noticed it too? I kept asking him but he just shrugged it off.”

“Maybe he needs to get laid,” you shrugged and Steve grinned.

“You offering?” You heard Javier’s voice behind you and you glared at Steve who tried not to laugh. Turning in your seat you looked up at the man in question. He grinned down at you.

“What if I told you I'm a lesbian?”

“That would only make it hotter,” he winked. You turned in your seat looking at Steve. “Okay I think he’s back.” You chuckled.

“If you need any help, just say the word,” Steve said as you walked down the hallway. It was Friday and you had just come home. One of the perks of living together with Javi and Steve was that you could use one car to get to work.

“Will do, thanks!” You smiled.

“Help with what?” Javi asked, standing next to you. You were now occupying the apartment across from him.

“I want to paint Eva’s room tomorrow. And let’s just say it’s not my biggest talent. Enrique used to do things like that. He actually planned the whole thing,” you smiled sadly looking at the floor before you breathed in deeply and looked at Javi. He had a strange expression on his face.

“What about I’ll come help and you cook that thing you have been cooking last weekend?” he rubbed his moustache.

“You can come over for some food without working, Javi,” you said right away.

“You tell me that now? What is it you cooked there last week?”

“I’m trying to figure out how Enrique made his mac & cheese cause Eva loved it so much.” You said quietly. You could hear her laughter behind the door.

“Sorry. I… Fuck. I keep reminding you of his death,” Javier shook his head.

“You’ve been a big help. I mean it. And if you want to spend your Saturday painting my daughter's room, you are welcome to do it,” you shrugged. He smiled a little.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then.”

One thing you noticed since moving was that Javier was a night owl. Of course you knew about his reputation but you didn’t judge him. He was an attractive man. If you were him you would use that to your advantage too. When Eva was in bed, and you were sitting in yours, a glass of wine in hand as you continued to work on files it was more than once that you heard just how much of a night owl Javier was. Either his women were very good actors or he really knew what he was doing.

“Mommy?” You heard the sleepy voice of your daughter and looked up from your book. She was standing in your door, her hair a wild mess. You looked at the clock. Nearly 1 am.

“Bad dream?” You asked. You saw her nod.

“Come here,” you smiled.

She climbed under your covers, snuggling to your side as you closed your book, setting it down on the bedside table.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, stroking away her hair so you could look at her. She shook her head.

“Okay,” you kissed her head.

It was a couple minutes later, you thought she was already asleep when she mumbled.

“You are not gonna leave me too mommy, right?” she whispered.

You gulped, pulling her closer towards you.

“I’m never gonna leave you baby,” you promised, your heart breaking.

She nodded.

“I miss Uncle Ric,” she said. You fought the tears.

“I miss him too,” you whispered.

You didn’t know how long you laid in bed, watching your daughter fall asleep. You had questioned coming to Colombia from the beginning.

You had been looking to change jobs for a while, and the job in Colombia was the only job the CIA had offered to various agents who had all declined it. Now that you were living here, you knew why.

It was beyond dangerous to take your daughter to this country. The CIA took your safety serious, which could have to do with how your late husbands death, which happened on a mission the CIA fucked up.

You could have asked the CIA for everything and they probably would have given it to you, just to keep you quiet. And maybe you should just have taken the money they offered you, buy a house on the beach, settle down with your daughter somewhere safe.

But there was always a little part of you brain that wanted to…. Avenge the death of your husband who had died because he found himself in the middle of a cartel deal gone wrong in Mexico.

You looked at your daughter, hoping that your selfish decision would not cost her more of her family in the future, before you let yourself finally drift of to sleep.

There was a knock on the door just as you finished washing the dishes from breakfast. Eva was wearing a bright blue kids overall you had bought while getting supplies to paint, running past you to the door before she stopped and turned around.

„Can I open Mommy?“ She asked.

„You gotta ask whose there first,“ you remind her and she nodded.

„WHO’S THERE?“ She yelled loudly through the door and you chuckled.

„Uh…. Javi?“ The man behind the door said, sounding it like a question. Eva looked at you and you nodded at her and she unlocked the door and opened it.

Javi looked at Eva then at you before he stepped into your apartment.

„Next time we need the codeword from you Javi,“ Eva said and he nodded seriously.

„What is the codeword?“

„Pancakes,“ she whispered loudly.

„Good morning,“ he said a little awkward. Eva threw the door closed behind him, before she ran back towards her room.

You shook your head amused.

„Good Morning Javi. Ready to spend time with a six year old girl who is obsessed with the jungle book?“ You asked, drying your hands, before you turned around to him.

He was wearing some older looking jeans and a white, very tight, T-Shirt.

„I have you know I have a lot of younger cousins. I think I can handle one girl,“ he said over confident and you nodded.

„We will see,“ you said, a smile playing around your lips before you nodded with your head towards your daughters bedroom.

You stopped counting after the tenth time Eva insisted on replaying The Bare Necessities. It was a surprisingly fun day.

You had to admit that you had underestimated Javier Peña.

You knew he was good at his job, but you didn’t know he was good with children. He explained every step he made to paint the walls to Eva and praised her when she began to paint herself. And he listened to every story your daughter told him. Never annoyed with her, always asking follow up questions.

And once she brought out her little recorder and played the jungle book tape you even noticed him humming along to the song, making you smile as you watched them both together.

They had both threw you out of her room so you could make dinner, leaving Javi and Eva to rearrange her room now that it was finished painting.

You could hear them laugh and you found yourself smiling to yourself. You missed the sound of her laughter ever since Enrique died.

You had put the Mac & cheese into the oven when Javier walked into your kitchen.

He had paint all over his arms, his shirt too. There was a smile on his lips and you found yourself smiling back.

„Enough Jungle book?“ You asked and he huffed a laugh.

„For now. She’s rearranging her stuffed animals on her bed,“ he said, leaning with his hip at the kitchen counter, watching you.

„Oh good. This will take her at least an hour. She’s a little perfectionist,“ you said.

„That’s… That’s good…“ Javi hummed and you frowned, turning towards him. He had a hand on his hip, his other hand pulling at his lip as he looked at you.

„Why?“ You asked.

He seemed… nervous. His eyes focused on you, seemingly fighting with himself about something.

„Javi…“ you started but he stepped towards you, one of his hands coming up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. Your breath hitched and you looked at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted.

You were nervous, but not in a bad way. It was more… anticipation of what would happen next.

„Can I kiss you?“ He asked. Instead of answering you nodded slowly, seeing him smile before he leaned in and kissed you softly. Your eyes slipped close and his lips found yours. You felt his other hand come to rest on the back of your head, and he slowly guided you so your back was against the counter as he slowly deepened the kiss. His tongue brushing over your lips until you parted them for him, sighing against his mouth. You rested one of your hands on his chest, your other hand in his hair as he moved his lips over yours.

He rested his forehead against yours as he parted form your lips, both of you panting for air.

„Wow,“ you whispered, opening your eyes. He was smiling at you.

„Yeah,“ he whispered, kissing you again.

You both jumped apart when you heard Eva call for you. You felt like a teenager who got caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing when you looked at Javi. You both chuckled at each other and you took a deep breath.

„I should check on her,“ you said. He nodded.

„Go. I’ll keep an eye on dinner,“ he said. You ran a hand through your hair, before you turned around, seeing Javi adjust himself out of the corner of your eyes.

Date Nights were not something you ever had before. Yes you went on dates when you were married, but there was never a big fuss about it.

Javier on the other hand, had taken you out every Friday night since you kissed. And it didn’t matter that you couldn’t openly date, not just because of work, but because the cartels had eyes everywhere, you were just happy to bet able to spend time with him outside of work.

Steve and Connie were happy to watch Eva for the evening, happy to have someone to play with their recently adopted daughter Olivia. You had been there in the house when Olivia was found. The scene still haunting your dreams.

Javier and you remained strictly professional at work. Of course there was talk about how Javier hadn’t been to a brothels in some time, but no one ever dared to ask, because he still got his intel from the girls.

You weren’t officially dating, but the both of you spend almost all your free time together. Things had become so domestic that even Eva seemed to realise things were changing. Not that you were hiding it from her. Javier had started to hang out at your place some more. Dinner for the three of you becoming a almost daily fixture whenever Javi was around and not working.

There were secret touches around Eva at the beginning until she caught Javier kissing you goodbye one night. She had a million questions for the both of you, and you had to give it to Javi, he answered every single one of them until Eva was satisfied, allowing him to date her mommy which you found beyond adorable.

You could never even entertain the thought of dating someone your daughter didn’t like.

That your daughter approved of this new man in your life made the change that was coming even harder.

Things in Colombia were getting more and more dangerous, leaving you to make the difficult decision to go back to the states. You had put in a request to get relocated which had been approved the week before.

You and Eva would be going back tomorrow leaving you to have to start over again. It had actually been Javier who had brought his concerns in the first place about you and your daughters safety up. You knew that coming to Colombia as a woman working for the CIA would put a target on your back. But the cruelty of the cartels and above all Pablo Escobar were at an all time high and to hard to ignore much longer.

So this Friday night would be your last date night with Javier for a while. He had taken you out to your favourite restaurant and held your hand all night, proud to show you off now that the both of you did not have to hide anymore.

It was the first time he kissed you in a crowded room, unafraid of who was watching. Because he knew you would be safe and out of the country in less than 15 hours.

And while the two of you had kissed for the first time almost three months before, you did not have sex yet.

Something you meant to change tonight.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, inviting him in. He had helped you put your whole life in boxes, promising to oversee them being shipped off to your new home.

„You gonna tell me where you going yet?“ He asked as you made the both of you a drink. You bit your bottom lip as you turned around, handing him the glass.

He knew you were going to Texas, he just didn’t know where.

Javier took a sip while you took one too before you set the glass down on the kitchen table.

„Laredo,“ you said and his eyes widened.

„I’m transferring to the DEA in Laredo, Texas,“ you added, waiting for his reaction. You never really talked about the future. But Javier was a man you could see yourself growing old with. You knew he had his own demons, thinking he did not deserve to be loved.

He had told you that he wanted to work on himself once he was finished with Colombia.

„Say that again,“ he asked you. He was looking at you with warm eyes, a smile forming on his lips.

„Eva and me will be moving to Laredo, Texas,“ you said, smiling yourself.

„Where?“ He asked.

„I found a house. But it needs some work. So I talked to your Dad the last time he called to ask for some help to find a contractor and he offered us his guest room,“ you said shyly. Javi laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

He sat the glass down and walked to you, his hands crossing on your lower back, his chest against yours.

„You did this all behind my back?“ He asked. You nodded.

„Surprise?“ You asked and he kissed you.

„You gonna be on our farm?“

„Eva is already looking forward to learn how to ride a horse,“ you nodded.

„Fuck, she’s gonna have my Dad wrapped around her little finger in no time,“ he chuckled.

„Just like she has you?“ You asked and cried out in laughter as he dinged his fingers into your side, making you giggle.

„Rude,“ he said.

„But true,“ you shrugged and he kissed you again.

„I’m not complaining,“ he mumbled against your lips. You sighed as his lips slowly kissed down your jaw and then your neck.

„Javi,“ you gasped and he hummed against your skin.

„Please take me to bed,“ you whispered and he looked up at you.

„Are you asking me…“

„Yeah…“ you nodded, both of your hands resting against his chest. He took a deep breath.

„I need words,“ he clarified and you got on your tiptoes.

„I wanna have sex with you Javier,“ you whispered against his ear.

He took his time undressing you, once you made it to your bedroom. His lips following a path of every inch of skin he revealed. When you were standing in just your underwear in front of him before he kissed you, mumbling against your lips how beautiful you were, before he helped you strip him off his clothes.

You gulped when you saw his cock for the first time, not really surprised at the lack of underwear on his side. Biting your lip you looked up at him, seeing him wink at you before he kissed you again.

He laid you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You moaned when you felt his weight on top of you, his arms resting next to your head to keep him hovering above you. You felt him rub against you, his cock rubbing against your stomach, making you both groan.

He slowly kissed down your body.

Your neck.

Your collarbone.

Right between your breasts. He looked up at you then a question in his eyes. You arched your back and he smiled as he reached around and unhooked your bra, slowly pulling it down your shoulders until he could pull it off.

„Beautiful,“ he hummed, his lips kissing the top of each breast before he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered, your back arching again, your hands playing with his hair to keep him close.

He moaned against your skin, his tongue playing with your now hard nipple inside his mouth.

„Javi,“ you moaned softly and he released your nipple.

„Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,“ he grinned and you felt yourself flush, giving him a shy smile.

„I wanna taste you,“ he said, kissing your other breast.

„Mhhh,“ you hummed.

His lips wandered down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button with a grin before he kissed right above your panty line.

You released a shaky breath and he smiled at you.

„Can I take this off?“ He asked. You nodded, biting your lip. His fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties and he kneeled between your legs pulling them down. Both of his hand ran up your thigh as he leaned back down, his face resting just above your pussy.

„You’re so wet,“ he said in wonder and you smiled.

„Just for you.“

He hummed before his face lowered and his lips kissed just above your clit. He inhaled deeply, releasing a groan.

„Gonna miss this when you’re gone,“ he whispered and you sighed.

„Guess you have to come home to me quickly then,“ you said and he smiled as he looked up at you.

„I like the sound of that,“ he said.

„What?“ You asked.

„Coming home to you,“ he whispered before he licked into you. You grabbed the bedsheet beneath you as he began to eat you out, parting your legs even further. His big hands kept you in place while he devoured you. His tongue playing with your clit before it dipped down and into you.

„Javi please…“ you moaned.

„Please what?“ He asked.

„Make me cum?“ You begged and he chuckled.

„Already begging for me….“ He teased and you lightly kicked him in his side, making him chuckle before he leaned back in, eating you out until you were moaning his name, your legs shaking in his hold. He kissed your pussy after you calmed down and have you a proud grin and he leaned back above you, his lips finding yours to give you a deep kiss where you could taste yourself.

You angled one leg behind him, pushing him down against you.

„Fuck me, Javi. I want you inside of me,“ you mumbled against his lips.

„Fuck,“ he cursed. He grabbed his cock, lining himself up against your pussy.

You both moaned when he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch filling you smoothly until his whole cock was inside of you, filling you perfectly. His forehead came to rest against yours and you wiggled your hips, making him groan.

„Fuck…. Please give me a moment…“ he groaned and you smiled, pecking his lips. He kissed you slow but deep. Licking into your mouth.

You made out for a while before he slowly bottomed out and pushed back into you, keeping a slow pace.

„Feels fucking perfect, baby,“ he moaned against your lips, fucking you deeply.

You wrapped both of your legs around him, your hands on his back and in his hair.

„Shit I’m not gonna last, feels so good, he groaned and you felt one of his hands slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit.

„I want you to cum with me,“ he said and began to circle your clit while he fucked faster into you.

„Javi,“ you whimpered, arching your back. His head dipped down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulled your nipple between his teeth, pulling it playfully and your whole body shuddered as your orgasm washed over you, whimpering beneath him just as he twitched and came deep inside of you.

You sighed, your fingers brushing through his hair as he kissed you, both of you smiling against each others lips.

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each others embrace before he slowly pulled out of you, pecking your lips. He went to the bathroom to clean himself off, bringing a washcloth to clean you too.

„I’m gonna get Eva from Steve and Connie’s,“ he mumbled against your lips and you nodded dreamily at him, watching him as he got dressed.

You got into your bathrobe and walked out of your bedroom just as Javi walked back into your apartment, a sleeping Eva in his arms.

Smiling at him you opened the door to her bedroom for him, watching him as he put her carefully into her bed. He had been doing this since the first date night, and it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect Javi fit into your life.

He kissed her forehead before he walked towards you, taking your hand to lead you back into your bedroom.

You knew you had to sleep but as you watched Javi strip out of his clothes and get into bed with you you were overcome with a sadness, knowing that his was the last time you would see him for a while.

You laid in bed, facing each other.

„I love you,“ you whispered, wanting him to hear the words before you leave.

He gave you a soft smile before he slipped closer towards you, his nose brushing over yours.

„I love you too,“ he whispered back and kissed you.

Both of you finding close to no sleep until it was time to get ready to leave for the airport the next morning.

„Bye Javi,“ Eva sobbed as Javi held her in his arms the next morning. She was clinging to him like a koala, clutching his shirt in her tiny fists. He was still holding your hand.

Javi had gotten breakfast while you got Eva ready before he drove you both to the airport.

You saw him take a shaky breath, kissing her hair.

„I’m gonna miss you,“ she mumbled and you felt tears stinging in the corner of your eyes.

„I’m gonna miss you and your mom too. So much,“ Javi whispered, pulling you closer. He let go of your hand to put his arm around you, pulling you into the hug.

„You have to fight the bad guys. And then you can come live with us all the time,“ Eva mumbled and Javi looked at you. You gave him a watery smile.

„I’ll do my best. Be good for your mommy,“ he said and you saw her nod, before he slowly let her down. She hugged your side and you wrapped your arm around her.

„Be safe,“ you whispered looking up at him.

„I will,“ he promised before he kissed you softly.

„I love you,“ you said and he smiled, a tear now running down his cheek.

„I love you, too,“ he kissed you again.

#my fic #javier peña #Javier Peña x fem reader #Pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #narcos #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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