#Self insert fanfiction
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A Study of Silence
Summary: Your life of married bliss is failing. A moment of heated arguing finally reveals the reason Natasha is pulling away from you, so you offer her the choice: stay or leave?
Word Count: 862
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warning: Angst
A/N: I wrote this at 1am when my flatmates set the fire alarm off, so forgive any mistakes lol. It's loosely based on 'Fluorescent Adolescent' by the Arctic Monkeys.
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Silence. Then the occasional turning of a page. In your mind, there are three types of silences: a comfortable silence, a suspenseful silence, and an awkward silence.
This fell firmly into the third category, but you made no move to change it - wondering instead how and when such an activity – sitting silently in your wife's presence – had turned from comfortable to awkward.
It hadn't happened just in this session: that was doomed to awkwardness from its start - but a month ago? a year ago? It was hard to recall a single moment of comfortable bliss outside of the early days of your relationship.
Everything had seemed so bright: an Avenger falling for a simple mechanic, a match made only in your dreams… though sometimes you wondered if it should ever have gone beyond that. She'd promised to quit her job for you, retire herself to deskwork upon marriage. "I want to do it," she had promised, "my love for you overshadows any job I do, and if this means I'm not spending months away from you and you're not spending months worrying, then it's an easy decision."
You swore your life to her then, showed her your love and your devotion. That love never faded. But where did it go wrong?
"My love?" you said. The redhead didn't look up from her book; you tried to see what it was, but she maintained her senses enough to shield that from your sights. With a sigh, you continued into the silence, "I was thinking maybe we could cook together tonight?"
She looked up now, fingers sightlessly marking the page. "Again? Didn't we do that..." she trailed off, searching for a memory, a recent excuse.
You finish her sentence for her: "last month? Yeah. I thought we could maybe do some bonding this month too, but nevermind."
"Y/N, we can-"
"You're clearly not interested, Nat, I'm not going to force you, so go hang out with your old Avengers buddies again and I'll make dinner alone."
There was a bite to your words that you knew you'd later regret, but in the moment you couldn't bring yourself to care. Fighting had become the only sure fire way to end the stagnant silences, and these days, neither you nor Natasha were afraid to use the method.
"You always do this," Natasha seethed, "they're my friends. I used to spend my every moment with them, living together, working together, everything! And I gave that up for you! You want me to give up even seeing them too? Would that finally be enough?!"
The silence fell again. A fourth type: one of contemplating, one of heated feelings and unwitting confessions and, finally, understanding. You understood. In her anger, Natasha had revealed the secret to it all, where it had all gone wrong.
You softened your voice, speaking quietly as if your wife were an injured animal, easy to startle. "I didn't make you give that up. I don't want you to give up more and I don't want you to blame me for your choices."
She stayed silent, though her jaw tightened and her eyes focused on a point behind you. You didn't have to turn to remember which picture lies there.
"I love you, Natasha," you confessed again, knowing it could be a last confession. "I love you and I want only the best for you. And if you miss the superhero days, the risk, the team, everything... if leaving that and marrying me is the mistake that's making you miserable, then I'm giving you the chance to undo that mistake. I don't want to be the reason you live your life in nostalgia and regret."
You didn't wait for her to respond, what was the point? Her gaze was still fixed on the picture behind you: the team in its heyday, when they were still young and wild and disorganised. She clang to until she got sentimental, forgetting that you had been the one to take the photo, right before Natasha became the first of the group to settle down.
Her response would come soon enough, you knew, so you went to your room and waited. You hoped for the eventual knock on the door, the long awaited conversation, then either the forgiveness or the conclusion. You hoped all through the evening, even as you cooked by yourself, ate by yourself, and slept by yourself.
A night with the Avengers might have been what she needed to make her decision.
Natasha Romanoff came into your life with a burning passion and a humanity to her that few people could ever achieve. You expected it to last forever, but come morning you realised the truth: Natasha Romanoff was a spy born and raised, and no amount of humanity can ever erase that from her.
Her ring was on your bedside table in the morning, the house left in a state of suspended silence. Natasha herself was nowhere to be found, disappearing like a spy, with no words spoken on the matter.
She had made her choice, just as you had made yours.
You loved Natasha too much to keep her; she loved you too little to stay.
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taglist: @canvascoloredin
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#reader insert#fanfiction#self insert fanfiction#ikan writes
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The Very First Night
Derek Shepherd x fem!Reader
One Shot
TW: Literally nothing. I’m taking a quick break from Evermore because I am so in love with this man I need to write some fluffy shit for him. No use of Y/N
A/N: This is based around the whole prom episode. I needed some self indulgent fluffiness. Also yes I’m ignoring both Meredith and Addisons existence in relation to Derek. Fight me.
When the chief announced that Seattle Grace Hospital would be holding a prom, you would have thought he was kidding if he didn’t look so deadly serious.
You made a point not to look at a certain man when he announced it.
Derek Shepherd has made it his ultimate goal to get you on a date with him.
Under any other circumstance, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. Hell, you would have been praying for him to ask the second you met him.
He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s a neurosurgeon for God’s sake, not to mention that he’s absolutely gorgeous.
Derek Shepherd is perfect.
He’s also your boss.
The one and only reason you aren’t leaping at the prospect of a date with him.
The label of “slutty intern sleeping with her boss to get ahead” isn’t an appealing one.
But still, the man is very convincing.
You’re doing charts when he sidles up to you, that smile you always stare at a little too long plastered on his face.
He leans against the counter your working on, watching you while you work.
And desperately try to stay professional when you look at him.
“Do you need something, Dr. Shepherd?” You use his title pointedly, a reminder of the barrier between the two of you.
He couldn’t care less.
“Just some information.” He speaks casually, shrugging as he begins to walk, and you follow him without a second thought.
He’s whittling you down, and you both know it.
“About…?” You try to force a smile off your face, but it’s no use. He’s infectious. His flirting. His smile.
Him.
You’re not somebody who fails. You’re an incredible doctor, you’re going to be an incredible surgeon. You were always considered an academic weapon, acing almost every class you’ve taken.
You don’t fail.
But when it comes to resisting Derek?
You think you’re about to.
“You got any plans for prom?” He speaks smoothly, comfortably, like he’s not a grown man asking a grown woman to the prom.
Like he’s not praying you’ll say yes.
You laugh, looking down at the ground instead of his eyes.
His beautiful eyes.
“I guess I’m coming, but no, I don’t have plans.” You place a special emphasis on plans. You both know what plans means.
A date.
Derek smiles, brushing your side gently, getting you to look back up at him, your gaze softening when you see him.
“Great, I’ll pick you up at nine.” He grins at you, looking very pleased with himself.
You go to speak, and you plan on saying no before you do. Explaining for what feels like the millionth time that nothing can happen between the two of you.
And hating every second of it.
But instead, it’s like your brain does you a favor, and speaks before you can decide what to say.
“Okay.” Your voice is a little breathy, and obviously nervous.
Shock passes over his eyes for a second before the smile on his face grows wider, reaching his eyes and making them sparkle.
Really, how the hell were you supposed to say no to that?
Your hands brush for a moment, his fingers sweeping past yours, sending your heart rate up.
He says something before walking away, but you aren’t really paying attention, more panicking at what you just got yourself into.
You’re going to prom with Derek Shepherd.
You never planned on taking this very seriously. You were just gonna throw on your dress from senior year, slip into some heels, and head back to the hospital.
But now?
Needless to say, you’ll be spending more time getting ready.
……………………………………………………………………………………
Two hours.
You left work early, and spent two damn hours getting ready for the prom.
All because of Derek Shepherd.
He’s the bane of your existence.
You can’t think around him.
You can’t think about much besides him.
When you’re with him, your happier than you’ve ever been.
Everything about him just makes you adore him more. His personality, his talent, his skills, his smile, his laugh, everything.
He might just be the love of your life.
You brush out the carefully placed curls in your hair, watching as they fall over your shoulders in waves. Your old prom dress still fits you, thank God.
The satin fabric hugs your waist, thin straps showing off your collarbone and shoulders.
A slit runs up from the bottom of the flowing skirt of the dress, stopping around the middle of your thigh.
Even you have to admit you look good.
You slip on your heels when you hear a knock at the door, and you swear you feel your heart stop.
You look at the clock by your bed.
9:00 exactly.
He really might be perfect.
Meredith peeks her head into your room, you’re living with her for the time being.
She smiles when she sees you despite how uncomfortable you look.
You haven’t been on a date in months, and you don’t think you’ve been this gussied up in years.
“You look great. I’m sure Derek’s gonna agree.” She teases you, all your friends have known you have a thing for Derek since you started your internship at Seattle Grace.
And now that you finally caved and said yes to a date with him?
You’re gonna be hearing a lot of shit about it tomorrow.
You can’t help but feel like this’ll be worth it.
“Thank you, and shut up.” Meredith laughs at your attitude, heading downstairs to her boyfriend, Finn.
You follow behind her, exhaling nervously before opening the front door to find Derek standing in front of you.
Derek, decked out in a suit and tie.
His hair is perfect, as usual.
And in his hands, a bouquet.
A bouquet of your favorite flowers.
You mentioned it once. A simple, offhand comment. You can’t even remember how it came up. But he did.
He remembered. He cared.
He’s making it really hard for you not to fall in love with him.
For a second you recognized an expression on his face you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He looked nervous. That was before his classic McDreamy smile appeared on his face when he saw you.
“Did I get it right?” He asked, handing you the flowers.
You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, honestly a bit giddy. Here you are, getting flowers, being taken to prom by the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.
You nod, taking them and stepping inside to let Derek in.
“Yeah, yeah you got it right.” You speak quieter than you usually would as you quickly place the flowers in the vase, smiling widely when you feel his eyes glued to your every move.
You turn around to find Derek watching you, a sweet smile on his face, a look in his eyes that means more than just simple attraction.
He admires you carefully, not as a painting, a still, lifeless thing meant for him to enjoy, to examine, to scrutinize.
No.
He admires you like a worshipper in church.
He adores you, and the look in his eyes might as well be a sign around his neck that reads ‘I’m in love with you.’
“You’re beautiful.” His voice is breathy when he speaks, and the words cause a vivid blush to rise on your face.
You utter your thanks shyly, stepping towards him and taking his hand when he offers it. He regains his composure quickly, slipping back into the flirty pattern you two follow.
Still, the basis of it, the reason why all of this is happening.
It’s not flirtation. Not attraction. Not even because you like each other.
It’s more than that.
It’s love.
He leads you to his car, you’ve been in it a couple times before, on the way to dinners you swore weren’t dates, nights spent with one another when you were still adamant on refusing to develop feelings for your boss.
Or, adamant on pretending not to, at least.
The car ride isn’t terribly long, but somewhere in the middle of it, your hand is on the middle console when Derek’s comes down from the wheel, landing on top of yours.
You don’t move, and he takes the opportunity to interlace your fingers, earning a smile from you that makes him wish he could freeze time and stay in this moment forever.
“Thank you, for asking me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you look over at him. His eyes stay glued to the road, but you watch as the corners of his mouth lift to a smile.
“Thank you for saying yes.” He quips back, looking over to you when you stop at a red light.
You laugh for a moment before responding. “It was about damn time.”
The moonlight glistens off his face as he laughs, every detail about him making you fall for him more.
He’s mesmerizing, and you can’t bring yourself to take your gaze off of him.
You’ve got it bad.
“Yeah, it was.” Theres still laughter lingering in his voice when he speaks, and you think you could melt right then and there at the sound of it.
It’s not long after that when you arrive at the hospital. You go to open your door before Derek does so for you, going to the effort of helping you out.
“What a gentlemen.” You say teasingly, letting your hand stay clasped in his as you walk into the hospital.
“I’ve been trying to land a date with you for months, I’m not gonna screw it up now.” He smiles down at you when he speaks, scanning your face. Pieces of hair fall to frame it, and he brings his free hand up to brush them away quickly, knowing the affect it has on you when you blush and look away quickly.
You’re honestly a bit shocked when you see how put together the whole event it, decorations are everywhere, and the lobby has been turned into a dance floor.
You already see a few people you know, the ones that came here with dates are already dancing, and the ones that are alone?
Well, they’re drinking the night away.
You don’t realize where Derek is taking you, too busy looking around, until his arm slips around your waist, and his other hand is holding yours as you’re pressed flush to his chest.
Derek Shepherd just asked you to dance, without saying a word.
“May I?” He’s good at this, and he knows it.
For a brief, insecure moment, you wonder why. You wonder if the reason this is so natural for him is because you’re not the only woman he does it for.
If you’re just a phase.
A tough one to crack.
You worry that he doesn’t feel the same way as you do.
But then, you look him in the eyes, and the softest, the gentle, loving, adoration in his gaze.
Your worries vanish like fog burning away on a summer morning.
“I’m not very good at this.” You warn, smiling sheepishly up at him as he begins to sway you, a grin on his lips.
You’re closer than you’ve ever been. Your free arm is thrown around his neck lazily, and you could melt into his embrace.
He leans down, whispering in your ear, his minty breath fanning over your neck. “I don’t mind.”
You smile when you hear him, laughing sweetly when he continues to dance with you. There’s a few people watching. You and Derek have become a topic of conversation around the hospital ever since he started pursuing you so strongly.
So, pretty much since your first day.
Neither of you seem to mind, to engrossed in each other to care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you this whole night. You’re always stunning, he usually can’t keep his eyes off you when you’re just in your scrubs.
But tonight?
You look like an angel came down to earth.
Derek lifts your arm above your head quickly and spins you, smiling brightly when the sound of your bubbly laughter reaches his ears.
It’s the best thing he’s ever heard.
When he pulls you back in your pressed close to him, touching his chest with yours, staring up into his cerulean eyes. Your breathe mingles as he looks down to you, his gaze flickering to your lips as he does.
Everything else feels like it just disappears. The only thing that matters, the only thing in your world, is the man standing in front of you.
You curse yourself for waiting so long. For always being so damn good. For not letting yourself have this sooner.
Have him sooner.
Every single time he asked you out, you wanted to say yes. But you didn’t, you were too focused on everything you shouldn’t have been.
Colleagues.
Expectations.
Assumptions.
Everything but him.
And now?
You’re done.
So when he leans forward, when his lips brush yours. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, and it makes your knees weak. It rips the air out of your lungs.
It flips your world upside down.
You could have repeated this moment forever and been happy.
You move against him, kissing back, running your hands through his hair. His hands slip further down your waist, coming to rest on the small of your back.
Your forced to pull away as you begin to run out of air, gasping a bit as you do. You press your forehead to Derek’s, smiling widely.
He pulls you in closer, and you bring your head to rest in the crook of his neck, and he sways you back and forth, abandoning any efforts of actually trying to dance.
“You got me.” You whisper, and you feel laughter rumbling in his chest when he hears you.
After all this time, all of the asking, all the flirting, everything.
You let go.
Let go of your worries.
And grabbed on to him.
And you are never, ever, letting go.
A/N: Soooo this is short and kinda cheesy ngl, but I hope y’all liked it.
- di <3
#fanfic#fanfic writer#fanfiction#fanfiction writer#greys anatomy#derek shepherd#derek shepherd x reader#derek shepherd x you#derek shepherd x y/n#derek shepherd x yn#self insert#self insert fanfiction#fluff#confession
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Cold hands, Warm hearts
Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader
Summary: Natasha warms you up on a cold day with an impromptu date
A/N: This is for @esouliie ! You can all thank her for this because I don't know when I would have gotten something new finished. This was also the result of there being way too many 'missing Natasha hours' recently (I've also been having a lot of 'missing Wanda hours' too and have re-watched WandaVision because of it). But, everyone... this fic... is so freaking cute and I hope you all think so too. Happy reading and let me know who you think!
"Hey," you hear a familiar rasp from over your shoulder.
You didn't think you would hear from her so soon. She told you she was going to be busy, which is code for ‘away on a mission’, so have kept yourself occupied for the last few weeks trying not to think of the red head. Which is easier said than done.
Every morning when you wake up disappointment fills you not seeing her there. Your intertwined lives are now routine.
It is hard to adjust when she is away, especially when it is for weeks and what feels like no end in sight. On top of that, with missions like these, there is no communication between you to fill the Natasha shaped hole in your life.
Sometimes you wonder if it would be easier to be involved with someone else, anyone else for that matter, but the thought is gone as quick as it comes because no one could ever replace the way she makes you feel.
The first week of her absence you filled your free time as much as you could by catching up with friends and family. You constantly found yourself avoiding the question about why you have been so distant recently. It was the one thing Natasha requested from you - not telling anyone about your relationship with her - to, in her words ‘keep you safe'.
You still remember the way she looked at you. It was the first time you could see past the facade she held, seeing the worry linger in her eyes for a split second. The intensity of her gaze and her hesitance was a strange thing to witness. When you nodded your head in agreement her smile was soft, almost relieved. In that moment you realized you would agree to anything she asked just to see that vulnerable side again. You felt privileged.
This second and third week have been much slower, a lot of your time has been spent in the four walls of your apartment because of last minute canceled plans and much needed maintenance needed around your home.
So you decide today, cold be damned, you will be taking a walk through your local park. You shared this little wonder of a place with Natasha in your fourth month of being together, happy to be able to reveal a bit more of you and your life.
It is a public place, more people pass by here than in the street where you live. But you got to show Natasha all the overlooked secrets; little winding paths that lead to flower gardens, a pond hidden behind some bushes and the gargoyles you can see from one spot when standing in a specific angle by a monument in the center. You even pointed out some regulars you see because of all your time here. From the confined elderly wanting a bit of liberation from their mundane lives to daring children trying to climb the tallest tree they can find.
A breeze rushes past, the cold chilling you to your bones and you inwardly curse at yourself. Trust you to have picked the coldest day for some freedom. Initially, the brisk air was making you regret your decision, that was until the sun came out. It didn't do a whole lot against the freezing temperature, but it did look pretty against the frost and ice distracting you from the chilly weather.
The way the sun's rays shine between the branches that stretched out over your head reminded you of spring time and how much you couldn’t wait for the season to change.
Just as you were about to get out from the clearing for some much needed sunlight and heat on your face, that’s when you heard Natasha.
It has been so long you think you are hearing things, that is until you turn your head and see her. The long army green coat she is wearing almost makes her look taller.
Almost.
Strands of red hair peek out from the beanie Natasha is wearing, a braid is tucked into her pulled up collar and she has a soft smile on her face. One you have noticed she reserves for you.
It takes everything in you to not run over and jump into her arms, to press your nose into her neck to get a smell of the home you have been craving.
Big scenes are not her thing, you’ve learnt.
Instead your eyes drop to her gloved hands holding two hot drinks which takes you out of your stupor and smiling brighter in return. You almost want to ask how she knew where you were but then remember her profession.
"You look cold," there is a playfulness to Natasha’s voice matching her smirk.
Regardless of how wrapped up you are, you know your scarf hasn't done much to stop your face from getting cold, it must be covered in a light blush.
"I could say the same about you," you raise an eyebrow with your own smirk. A noticeable pink tint is adorning her cheeks and nose from the cold bite of the air. You wonder how long she has been trailing you.
Natasha's smile widens as closes in and hands you one of the cups. You take off your gloves, shoving them into your pocket to allow the heat to bring back the feeling in your frozen hands as you bring it to your nose to take a whiff. Your favorite, of course it is.
She leans in and pecks you on the lips, her still warm palm from the drink sinks into your cheek making you forget about the kiss of the sun you were walking towards. Natasha disappoints you with how short her lips are on yours, you were hoping for something that was more than just a split second considering how long it has been.
Although Natasha pulls back it is only by an inch as she remains close to ask, "Where are you going?"
Her voice is low and her warm breath is a nice contrast to the icy wind.
Your eyes flutter close as you revel in her presence and soak up the warmth she brings. Brushing your nose against hers you reply, "Wherever my feet take me," you smile and open your eyes to the green ones you selfishly wish to keep to yourself. "I'm glad I have some company now," you whisper.
"I hope you weren't expecting anyone else," Natasha says with a twitch of an eyebrow.
You shake your head. "Definitely not," you say, pressing a small kiss to her lips, one that lasts longer than the mediocre one she gave you. "I missed you."
You like seeing her like this. Carefree. Soft. Unguarded.
Well as unguarded as can be, it was something you picked up in your first few months of spending time together - Natasha is always alert. The way her eyes flint around every so often, looking around to quickly survey her surroundings, always cautious of any lingering threats. To the untrained eye it looks like she is taking in the scenery, but you know after knowing her for as long as you have.
Over time it is a habit you have even picked up from her, making you wonder if there are things she has picked up from you.
Natasha stands by your side allowing you to loop an arm around her waist while you take a sip of your beverage. It leaves a warm trail as it makes its way down your throat. It still isn't as warm as the way Natasha makes you feel though as cheesy as that may sound.
"Thank you for this, I didn't realize how much I needed it," you say, signaling the paper cup.
She smiles at you to acknowledge your gratitude. "You're never one to think ahead, plus I saw you shiver," Natasha remarks.
You scoff, shaking your head, "I did not shiver."
Some children are laughing not too far in front of you which distracts both of your attentions away from your conversation. A large puddle of water has frozen over and seems to be the main source of entertainment for the little gang.
The two of you stop to watch their innocence, a pang of jealousy hits you because of how carefree and innocent they are. Not a single worry showing on their faces in this cruel world.
You have been fortunate to only hear about the atrocities always going on. More so since you started to date Natasha. She doesn't go into detail about her line of work but the faraway look she has on her face sometimes after certain assignments tells you all you need to know. It fills you with pride knowing you are Natasha’s source of domestic normalcy.
One of the snuggly wrapped up boys slips and tries to regain his footing before he falls to the ground making you let out a breath of laughter. The scene is something straight from a cartoon as the boy tries to find balance when trying to stand again while the rest laugh at him. A boy in a puffy gray coat, who is howling with laughter, loses his feet from under him sending him straight to the ground landing on his butt making the rest of them exclaim even louder.
The smile you see in your peripheral vision tells you Natasha is enjoying this too.
"How long had you been watching me before you decided to come over, stalker?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
"Long enough to see you shiver," Natasha accuses in her husky voice.
You bark out a laugh, "I do not shiver!"
"Yeah, yeah, you keep lying to yourself," Natasha smirks.
You spend long minutes, people watching while sipping on your drinks and basking in this precious stolen time you get to spend with each other.
The children are fewer now, some of them have left with their parents while the rest stay. They have started a game to see who can stay on their feet the longest as they try to knock each other down.
Sometimes you forget Natasha’s past, what little you know of it, and almost ask about her childhood. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking 'What did you get up to as a kid?’
Instead, you face Natasha as she continues to stare on at the scene; her side profile is enough to show her fatigue. You place your empty cup on the wall beside you so you can take her face in your hands.
Natasha takes your lead to turn in your direction allowing you to take in all of her features.
"You look tired," you whisper in concern as your thumb rubs along her cheekbone.
"Gee, thanks(!)" Natasha chuckles at her own sarcasm.
"Nat," you start, ready to reprimand her for not being serious.
"We’ve had some long days. But don’t worry, I'll be off for the holidays,” Natasha replies. “You'll have me for two weeks. That’s enough time for you to get sick of having me around. By the end of it you’re going to want to be rid of me."
"Impossible," you say without thinking then lean in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips.
Natasha turns her head slightly to meet your lips, sighing when she allows herself a moment of being wrapped up in you.
A buzzing sound makes you stop before you can deepen the kiss any further. You let out a breath of disdain from Natasha’s phone ruining your moment. Natasha smiles at you apologetically, taking the device from her pocket.
While Natasha checks the notification you give her some privacy, picking up both empty cups to discard them.
When you return and meet Natasha's eyes, the sparkle that was there just moments ago has faded as regret takes over. She is being called back.
"Three more days, then you're all mine, Romanoff,” you smile. “And for a whole two weeks!" you exaggerate in hopes to lessen the blow of her having to leave. "How did I get so lucky? I guess I'm being spoiled this season."
You know you succeed when you see the corners of Natasha's lips raise slightly before she holds onto your coat and pulls you in kissing you again.
Her phone buzzes impatiently, interrupting you again .
"I have to go," Natasha says, her warm breath fanning over your face as she rests her forehead against yours. ”But just know, I’m the lucky one here.”
You smile at her confession and revel once more in the warmth she provides before you have to face the harsh cold that comes with the Winter months alone.
Kissing Natasha’s forehead you meet her loving green gaze once more. "Come back to me," you breathe out as light as the breeze chilling you.
"Always," Natasha says, sweetly and just as quiet. Her voice carries the weight of more than the one worded sentence she has spoken.
Taking a breath, Natasha gives you a final peck before she drags herself away from you.
Your arm stretches out as Natasha walks away, your hand lingering in hers for those extra few seconds of comfort. But mostly because you don't want to let her go.
Saying goodbye is always difficult no matter how short the visit.
As you watch her walk away you think about the first time you met the assassin.
Out of all the windows in the city Natasha crashed through yours. Your shock had you frozen in place until she tried to stumble out of your apartment but collapsed from fatigue because of the fight she had just endured.
After getting over the fact an Avenger covered in dirt and blood had ruined your new rug, you used your limited first aid knowledge to nurse her back to health. When she awoke a few hours later, she told you just how crappy of a job you had done.
What got Natasha’s attention was when you quipped back saying you should have let her bleed out to make a quick buck off of all of her equipment to pay for the damages she caused.
When she left a short while later you didn’t think you would ever see her in person again. You were looking forward to being able to tell all the people in your life about the encounter with an actual superhero.
Reality hit you in the gut with the name of ‘Non Disclosure Agreement’ and a clean up crew which you couldn’t be mad about.
Unbeknownst to you, after your first meeting Natasha couldn't stop herself from wanting to see you again. Her mind drifted to the ‘kind’ (your words not hers) stranger who applied sloppy bandages to her arm and stomach. The messy job would have gotten infected if she hadn’t woken up. Natasha caught herself smiling at the memory too often and had to force herself to be present for work.
Life went on and your encounter felt less and less real as each day passed. Until one evening, while in your office building working late, you received a call telling you you were needed on the roof. Skeptical as you were, you obeyed thinking of the promotion you had been working so hard toward.
What you hadn’t expected was a fully healed Black Widow to emerge from the shadows, playfully schooling you to not comply with shady orders received late at night. Then insulting you with how boring your life was and how you should learn to cook for yourself instead of wasting all your money on take-out.
Surprise was an understatement and instead of letting that show, like your mouth wasn’t already slightly hanging open from the shock while she spoke, you decided to play Natasha’s game and call her out for the stalker that she was.
Since then your meetings have been sporadic but it didn’t stop you both from falling for each other. Who knew a year and a half on you would be in a relationship with each other, life would have made more sense if you had stopped talking. But you have defied the odds and are still going strong.
When you make it back to your apartment you find flowers waiting for you on the kitchen counter making you smile. A card attached to them with a message in Natasha’s handwriting that reads ‘3 more days ♡’ makes you feel like your heart is going to burst from emotion.
Needless to say that smile never left your face throughout you making dinner all the way up until the moment you go to bed that night. Natasha somehow always has a habit of making you feel like a giddy teenager.
You couldn’t wait to see her again. The gift you have been wanting to give to her for a few weeks has been hidden under your towels in the kitchen cabinet. You can only hope she doesn't already know about it.
The next time you are together you are going to give her a key to your apartment so that she knows she will always have a place to come back to.
A place she can call home.
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff marvel#natasha romanoff fluff#black widow x reader#black widow x y/n#black widow fanfic#black widow imagine#black widow fluff#marvel fanfic#marvel#mcu reader insert#self insert fanfiction#fic#cold hands warm hearts tag
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#the mandela catalogue x reader#tmc x reader#the walten files x y/n#the walten files x reader#x you#x reader#self insert fanfiction#self ship#danganronpa x reader#john doe x reader#muse arg x reader
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can you post newt x female reader smut? i had a look at your wattpad and noticed that you already had some but it's in the old style (i'm assuming it's your old style) and i really like how you write now (the stuff you post on here). obv only if you're comfortable with it, btw i love your work!
First of all, I'm glad you like my stuff! Secondly, I sure can! I've got some brand new things I cooked up a while back, and I would be delighted to share the love xxx
Just like that
Series masterlist, masterpost
Newt x fem!Reader
Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)
Word count: 2318
Summary: shameless Newt smut. Enjoy.
Content: smut. Porn with like the tiniest hint of a plot. Friends with benefits type beat. Making out, blowjobs, hickeys, light praise kink (kind of), light dirty talk, masturbation (kind of), hair pulling (reader is the puller), cowgirl position (sort of??? Idk??), al fresco lol
Notes: I’m so sorry I have no idea how to tag this stuff. Literally what’s in “content” is in it, there might be stuff that I forgot so I apologise but it’s basically just what you’d expect from smut (I’m pretty basic)
You were kissing Newt. Or maybe Newt was kissing you, since he’d started the whole thing when he had put down the now empty cup of hot tea the two of you had been sharing, sheltered behind the partially rotted corpse of a massive tree, and taken your chin between his strong fingers, turned you to face him, then very deliberately pressed his lips against your own. You’d just smiled and let him, giving as good as you got. He still tasted like the drink, the sweetness of the honey you’d insisted on adding coating his mouth. And so it was that you came to be locked in a soft embrace now, with your movements lazy and relaxed as you took your sweet time exploring each other.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; you liked Newt and he liked you, and both knew it. It was nice to have a sort of outlet every now and then, someone who you didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than yourself around, and who didn’t pretend around you. And that’s what Newt was, and what he had been for some time, ever since a few months ago when the two of you had found yourself drunkenly making out behind the homestead while the other Gladers enjoyed a bonfire.
Now, Newt’s hand had found its way to your breast, tracing circles over the material of your shirt and making your skin prickle. You traced a line along his jaw, your finger trailing down his neck to rest on his shoulder. You shifted yourself slightly, angling your body further towards him to ease the suggestion of a stiffness threatening to grow in your neck if you kept up your current position much longer. Newt’s mouth was still soft on yours, his tongue stroking your own lazily, but something about him was saying that he wanted more – or would soon.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” you asked, breaking the kiss. The two of you had decided a while back that being open and up front was the way to go – “candid,” Newt had stated solemnly, and you’d agreed.
He seemed to consider for a moment, then glanced around to check for anyone in the immediate vicinity. The fallen tree trunk you were sitting against wasn’t all that deep into the deadheads, and while it was huge and had served as an excellent shelter numerous times before, it never hurt to be careful. It wasn’t that either of you were ashamed of your standing with the other – your “situationship” you jokingly called it – it was just that it would be awkward to get caught.
Now, Newt smiled at you and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, placing another gentle kiss on your lips.
You returned the smile, slipping your hand under the waistband of his pants, massaging his cock gently. You felt him grow hard, and when you were satisfied, you deftly unzipped his pants. You smiled again, spitting into your palm and resuming your light ministrations.
Newt raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat. “Love, that’s wonderful, but quit teasing.”
“Magic word?” you grinned.
Your friend sighed, rolling his eyes. “Please,” he huffed.
You nodded, licking your lips before gently kissing the tip of his dick and lowering your mouth over the head. Newt gave a tiny moan – well, something between a sigh and a moan – and moved his hand to your hair, his fingers tracing patterns gently over your scalp. You really liked giving blowjobs to Newt; he was always so gentle and considerate, and it never even felt like you were “giving” him anything. Sure, his dick was in your mouth, but it was more like something you were doing with him, something nice and fun and extremely gratifying. Especially when he talked to you, which he was doing now.
“That’s it love,” he murmured as you swirled your tongue around him, your hands working what wasn’t already in your mouth. “God, you’re good at this.”
The praise lit a warm glow inside you, and you sank your head lower. Newt’s breath caught in his throat as you hollowed your cheeks, the tip of his dick now almost touching the back of your throat with every bob of your head, your hand still taking care of the base. It was as slow and laid back as your kisses had been just minutes before, and you loved every second.
You continued like that, basking in Newt’s grunts of “yes” and “fuck” and the occasional “God, (Y/N)” before his fingers slid from your hair to under your chin, prompting you to stop. You released him with a wet sort of “pop” sound, licking your lips delicately while still holding his throbbing cock in one hand. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright as he looked at you. Your own face was warm, matching the not entirely unpleasant heat you’d felt building between your legs.
“Take your pants off and come here.” He patted his lap, kicking his own pants further down his legs.
You grinned. “Is that an order or an invitation?”
“An invitation, since you never do anything I order.”
“It’s cause you never say please,” you deadpanned as you shuffled out of your pants, discarding them and your underwear to one side. You swung a leg over Newt’s hips, straddling him, and placed your hands either side of his face. “How’s this?”
“Yeah, not bad,” he nodded, his own hands easing your shirt upwards. You let him, lifting your arms obediently as he slipped the piece of fabric over your head and sent it the way of your pants. He kissed along the line of your bra, then, watching your face carefully, reached around and undid the clasp. He caressed your breasts softly, sweetly, and slowly. That really did seem to be the theme of the day.
“Hey,” you said after a moment when he made no move to take his own shirt off, your hand coming to rest over his. “How come I’m naked and you’re not?”
He shrugged, twisting his hand to entwine his fingers with yours.
“Hardly seems fair,” you breathed, sliding your hips over his.
Newt’s breath caught in his throat once more, and he rolled his eyes at you. “If you insist.”
“I certainly do.” You pushed his shirt up, pulling it deftly over his head and tossing it to the side before laying your palms against his warm skin. You knew there were things Newt liked more than his own body, but you’d never really understood why. Sure, he was skinnier than some of the other boys, and his leg was a continuous chip on his shoulder, but you thought he was hotter than anyone you could name off the top of your head and you made sure he was aware of the fact.
In fact, the first time he’d expressed anything resembling insecurity, you’d been watching him get dressed after a night well spent, idly pondering how perfectly formed he was, how smooth and seamless every movement was even with the addition of his limp. You’d been so caught up in watching the dance of his lithe muscles under his skin that you hadn’t even noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he turned away from you.
“Can you… not watch me?” he’d asked hesitantly as he pulled on his shirt.
“Huh?” you’d frowned, sitting up.
“You were staring, can you not do it?”
“Oh.” You’d felt your face colour and had looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“‘Sfine,” he’d said.
You’d asked why, hesitantly and as politely as you could. You just couldn’t work out why this boy, who was totally comfortable making you plead his name as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan (which was how you’d found out he liked his hair being pulled, but that was a story for another time), couldn’t deal with you watching him get dressed.
He’d shrugged, then turned around and spoken directly to the wall beside your head. “I don’t really like how I look.”
You were baffled to say the least, and had very nearly burst out laughing. “But you’re so…” you’d said instead, stumbling for the right words. “You’re so hot,” you’d blurted at last.
Newt had shrugged again, bending to lace up his boots. “Maybe to you.”
After that, you’d taken every opportunity – ones that weren’t too obvious, of course – to subtly express just how attractive you thought he was. From outright whispers of “fuck, you’re hot” mid tryst to casually proclaiming him gorgeous in the middle of a conversation, you really did take any chance that presented itself. And now was no different.
“Damn,” you smiled, bending to place a kiss on his collar bone. “You’re fucking sexy, you know that?”
“Look who’s talking,” he scoffed, but you caught the tiny upward twitch of his mouth. He brought your hand to his face, gently kissing your knuckles. You let a sigh escape you, rocking your hips over his once more. He was hot against you and the sun, now beginning to sink below the walls, caught in his hair, lighting it up in gold like some kind of halo. You’d hardly have been surprised if he sprouted wings right then and there.
“Quit teasing, (Y/N),” he half laughed, half growled. Then added “please” almost as an afterthought.
“Since you asked so nicely,” you smiled, the hand that wasn’t being held by him sliding down over his chest, his stomach, finally coming to rest on his dick once more. You carefully lined him up, and at his nod, sank gently onto his length.
You didn’t move right away, shifting your hands to the log either side of Newt’s head to steady yourself as you let yourself adjust. You rocked experimentally, earning a soft sigh and whispered “yes” from the boy under you.
“Just like that,” he murmured as you moved again. Another thing about Newt that you’d learnt was that he liked when you rode him like this, liked guiding your hips over his while showering you with kisses – and the odd hickey. He was doing it now, his hands gentle yet firm where they slid over the skin of your thighs and hips and waist, his mouth warm and silken where it roamed your chest and neck.
“Fuck, Newt,” you breathed, letting your fingers tangle in his hair. You didn’t pull it as such, just hinted at it. Still, Newt’s breath hissed between his teeth and he looked up at you from a particularly dark hickey at the curve where your neck met your shoulder, his eyes dark. You gave his hair the gentlest tug, tipping his head back and kissing his lips, his jaw, and down his throat.
Newt’s eyes were closed now, his breath shallow as you ran one hand down over his front, fingers skimming the subtle planes of muscle as a leaf skims the surface of a puddle. You kissed him again, slowly, your mouths melding perfectly together.
“Touch yourself,” he murmured against your lips. “I want you to cum.”
“I wanna make you cum,” you replied. It was true, you loved nothing more than watching Newt unravel because of you and only you, even if it was both of you doing the work.
He shrugged. “And I want you to get yourself off riding my dick, I want to watch you.”
“Ok.” You kissed him again, then slid the hand that wasn’t still tangled his hair down your own body to the heat between your legs. You bit your lip as your fingertips grazed your clit, stifling a moan.
“Don’t keep quiet,” Newt urged. “I wanna hear you too.”
God, this boy, you thought as you let yourself whisper a curse. Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? He probably did, actually, you reflected as your fingers rubbed tiny circles over your clit. You leant forwards to get a better angle, your chest brushing against Newt’s and your face inches from his own. He was watching you, his attention fixed only on you. You felt yourself twitch and your muscles began to tense as you found the perfect spot, the moans you let escape growing in frequency and volume.
“Move me,” you choked as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of your climax, every fibre of your being pulled taught.
Newt nodded, rocking your hips over his as your fingers continued their motion and you hung, suspended for a second before everything came crashing in on you.
“Fuck, Newt, oh my god,” you groaned as the orgasm flooded over you. You were dimly aware of him moaning your name and realised that your hand had tightened in his hair and that he was still moving you. “Keep going,” you sighed, cupping his face with one hand while the other continued to card through his hair, pulling occasionally.
“Mm, (Y/N) oh–” he broke off and you gave the handful of hair you had a firm pull, now taking over your own movements as he released inside you, bliss flooding his face.
You continued to slide your hips over his until your legs had ceased to shake and a little of the haziness had gone from Newt’s face, settling comfortably onto his lap. Wordlessly, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, brushing the hair from his face and tracing patterns over his cheeks and neck, all the way down to his chest. He smiled at you, bending to sooth the dark marks he’d left on your skin with kisses of his own, holding you close against him.
“I love this,” he said at last.
You tilted your head to the side, nonplussed. “Having sex with me?”
He considered, nodded, then, “being with you.”
“I love being with you too,” you whispered as you kissed him again.
#Maze Runner#the maze runner#newt maze runner#tmr#tmr fanfiction#tmr fic#newt#newt x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#self insert fanfiction#maze runner fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#smut#maze runner smut
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Stop saying it's a fuckin x reader if it's your fuckin oc just say it's an oc you cannot keep claiming you wrote this for people to insert themselves into when you wrote it to put your own fucking character in there so it can only be read as THAT ONE FUCKING CHARACTER AND NOT AS A READER INSERT
#kindly fuck you#vague posting#bc it comes up so fucking much in bg3 fics rn#im so glad you want to write for your tav genuinelt#*genuinely#i do it too i have so many wyll x romero fics for this reason#BUT STOP SAYING ITS AN X READER WHEN ITS NOT#fanfic#fanfiction#self insert#self insert fanfiction#x reader#rant#vent
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˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗
the gift of giving (18+)
pairing(s) — trevor zegras x reader, jamie drysdale x reader, mason mctavish x reader, zegras x drysdale x mctavish
hands off my girl — bfb!rafe cameron x kook!reader
if we're lucky (18+) — rafe cameron x kook!gf!reader
the spit saga (18+)
pairing — jamie drysdale x reader // series inspired by this post
girl dad quinn hughes <3
★ #1 — a gaggle of girlies
★ #2 — stuck like velcro
★ muppet crumbs (18+)
pairing — subby!trent frederic x reader
feb slumber party (18+)
★ #1 — silent treatment
pairing — dbf!sidney crosby x reader
★ #2 — all nighters with rodeo riders
pairing — bull-rider!mattew tkachuk x barrel racer!hughes!reader
˗ˏˋ my inbox ˎˊ˗
original blog — @holy-pucks
#*ೃ༄ by holy-pucks#hockey rpf#nhl rpf#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl smut#hockey smut#hockey romance#nhl imagines#hockey fic#nhl players#nhl hockey#nhl drabble#hockey fandom#hockey boys#hockey player x reader#hockey players#sports smut#sports romance#sports rpf#hockeyblr#x reader smut#x reader#x reader fanfiction#x reader fluff#x reader angst#f!reader#self insert fanfiction#self insert fic#trevor zegras x reader
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Do any other couples write self-indulgent fanfiction for each other?
#long distance relationship#freaky#evil#self indulgent#writing smut#self insert#freak#self insert fanfiction#lol#long distance couple#long distance love#fanfiction#long distance romance#fanfic#fanfics#haha#me devouring#humor#funny#original post#text post#textpost#goofy#fanfic writing#fanfic authors#writers#writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity
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Monty x reader would be cuteee~
But also i wanna see your littol guy with the animatronics!!!i like seein your widdol guy
I've had a concept that can do both at once for a while now so I might as well use that.
Lost and Found
Monty X GN Security Guard Reader
In which you ignore protocol on a whim
Patrols in the Pizzaplex were always very dull for a night shift employee, especially sense the head security guard, Vanessa, gave you explicit instructions not to talk to the animatronics.
There was never a break in at the Pizzaplex, anyone locked in after closing are always found basically right away, and every square inch of the main floors are patrolled by Staff bots who are basically walking motion sensors.
Recently you hadn't even bothered to patrol the floor anymore, and instead find yourself crashing in the Security Tunnels until your shift ended. Tonight included.
You made your way to Monty Golf through the underground maze, as you'd found the muffled golfing music relaxing, when a distant sound caught your ear. Something you were sure the dayshifters were much more use to than you were.
Crying.
A child crying.
You checked the time; almost 2am. If they'd been left here when the doors had shut at 10 surly someone would have already found them by now and reported them to Vanessa, right?
You picked up the pace a little, turning off course and following the sound. Around a few more corners, you found the source.
Montgomery Gater stood over a very small child in a very big sweater, who was currently sobbing his little eyes out.
The animatronic looked rather freaked out, glancing over his shoulders, motioning with his hands for the child to calm down, repeatedly softly shushing them to the best of his ability. You'd heard he was stiff around the kids sense his upgrades to join the band, but this was pitiful.
"Monty? What's going on?" You asked as you approached, tucking your flashlight back into it's holster on your hip.
Monty whipped around to face you, knocking into the child with his large tail as he did so, "Nothin'!" He got defensive immediately, a soft growl to his voice, which just made the loud screaming of the now collapsed toddler next to him even worse.
You walked passed him and helped the kid up. He was small, with round cheeks and big sopping wet eyes. His hair was white and messily cut, which was hard to tell with how wild and curled it was. He wore a child's 2XL daycare sweater you'd seen in the gift shop a few times, with the sun Daycare attendant's cartooned face on it, and one sock.
"Are you okay, baby?" You asked softly, patting his very unkempt hair, "Did the big bad gator scare you?"
"Hey, I ain't bad!" Monty squatted next to you, "He was cryin' BEFORE I found him, just so you know."
You looked at Monty, "Did you contact Vanessa?"
"I tried." The gator huffed, "Somethin's jammin my signal." Monty did a motion that mimicked someone picking their ear with their pinkie, but he both didn't have an ear nor anything worth picking out of it.
"Probably just the way it is down here," You suggested, standing up with the child in your arms, "Let's get back up on ground level and figure it out from there."
Monty nodded and stood up as well, following you as you made your way to the stairs to Monty Golf.
Once above ground, Monty tried again to contact the head security guard, but still nothing.
Technically at this point, you were supposed to take any lost children to items to lost and found and leave them there. It basically functioned as Vanessa's office, and she would eventually show up and handle the situation, but just leaving a kid in an office all alone for who knows how long didn't sit right.
You glanced at the kid, who was doing a lot better now that he was out of the dark tunnels, staring in awe at the fairy lights of Monty Golf.
"Lemme try my walkie." You said, and then passed the toddler off to Monty, who very clumsily took him, "hold this."
"Wha- Hey!" Monty barked at you as you stepped away, you could hear the child laugh at Monty's frustrations, so at least he wasn't scared of the gator.
Just like Monty though, all you were getting was static. The stupid walkies were always junkie anyway. Fazbear was always looking for costs to cut after all.
Now what..?
"Hey," Monty suddenly was right behind you, "No luck?"
"Nothing," You answered Monty, putting your walkie back and turning fully to face him, "Guess we should head for lost and found." You reached for the kid, only for Monty to take a step back from you.
You blinked, "What?"
"What?" Monty echoed you, now two steps away.
"You... Don't want to take the kid to lost and found?"
"I didn't say that." Three steps.
You motioned to the distance between the two of you with an annoyed look.
Monty shifted his weight, still clumsily holding the kid an arm's length away from himself, "..I think it's a bad idea." He finally admitted.
"Why?"
He glanced away, the toddler looked between the two of you, very confused. You felt the same way, but decided to give it up and sighed.
"Alright, but we have to do something with him." You watched at Monty turned to you, shocked you'd agree to go against protocol like this. You were too, to be honest. But, you figured he had a good reason. "Any ideas?"
Monty looked at the kid in his hands, who stared back at him with big, blank eyes. "..The daycare?" He suggested.
You thought on it for a moment, "...It is a place built to hold kids, I suppose..." You walked over to him, finally taking the child from his clumsy grasp, "What do you say? Wanna go meet Sun and Moon?"
The kid's face lit up as he gripped onto your shirt, he nodded rapidly and smiled a wide, jagged toothed grin at you.
You nodded, and headed back down into the maintenance tunnels with Monty close on you heels.
It didn't take long to get to Daycare from Monty Gold through the tunnels, so long as you know where you're going. Which you admittedly did not. But Monty did, and was more than smug about getting to lead you around.
In the daycare the child you'd found quickly lept from your arms and ran to the pickup doors, pulling them open and running inside, calling loudly for "Mr. Sun". When the door slammed closed, you were unable to get them to open again, which was worrying for several reasons, and probably should have been more of a concern, but you let it go when Monty's hand slammed against your shoulder blades with a chuckle.
"Good work, Boss." Monty smiled down at you, "I really didn't expect you to help me get away with that. Thanks."
You rolled your arm, which stung, and looked back at Monty confused, "Get away with... What?"
Monty smiled a toothy grin, "Don't worry 'bout it. Just know ya did good."
You probably would have pressed more if your watch hadn't started going off, signaling the end of your shift already.
"4am already, huh? I'd offer to walk ya to the door but y'ain't supposed to talk to us animatronics anymore, are ya?" Monty turned and made his way back to the maintenance tunnels entrance, "See ya tomorrow night, Boss. Don't tell ol' Vanny 'bout this." He waved over his shoulder.
You gave one more glance to the Daycare door. Inside you could hear the Daycare attendant. His usual anxious voice, muffled and distant, twinged with relief.
You decided you'd done the right thing, even if you didn't really know what you'd done, and made for the main entrance to daycare.
Maybe Monty could explain exactly what you'd done right tomorrow.
#Emile's Writing#Hhhhh it's bad it's bad it's nothing and it's bad don't ask me to include my S/Is again I'm so clunky with them with Reader inserts involve#I'm clunky with them in general fkdgjkdfgkjdf#This one could have a sequel if you're interested but it'll take me a hot minute#Cause I really gotta stew on how I want to write Monty more#Monty X Reader#FNaF Monty#Montgomery Gator#Self Insert fanfiction#Little guy me... Don't worry about it
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OC: Izabela Yueh
I didn't write anything about her yet, the only think i know is that she is related to doctor Wellington Yueh (maybe daughter?), she is a bene gesserit and is sent to marry Feyd Rautha.
May i write something about her? Idk. I fear mist of the ideas i have are already written lol
I was thinking about all the drama when she finds out what the harkonnen (cof cof baron vladmir) did to her mom, etc, etc.
Also, she was like, heavily inspired in @austinbutlerslovers Feyd Fantasy, which i am in love with (mwah mwah queen i love your writing and @valeskafics 's too
Face claim: Sonoya Mizuno
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At Your Service
Summary: As a trainee mechanic, you apply for an apprenticeship at Stark Automotives on a whim. What you don't expect is for Tony Stark to reply personally with an offer to train you, and if that wasn't enough, a certain redhead also takes an interest in your sessions.
Word Count: 2303
Pairing: (Mentor/Mentee relationship for both) Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Tony Stark & Reader
Warning: None :)
A/N: Thanks for the response to my last fic, all the comments and reblogs kept me writing even with all my deadlines, and Mechanic!R was the clear winner of the last poll, so here you all go! Enjoy :)
»»————- ★ ————-««
You rested centimetres from the cold floor with the sight of oil-covered gears, shafts, and pipes overtaking your vision as you rolled under the automotive.
"Does the axle cover come off?" you said after a short inspection.
"Yeah, those two hex screws, I'll get you the tool. You've worked out the issue?"
"It's meant to be 4-wheel drive and only the front wheels are moving; I'd guess a problem with the connector shaft meeting the rear axle."
"You'd guess or you'd know?"
"I can't know anything 'til the cover's off and I can see inside."
"Good answer," Tony replied. "Hand out."
As instructed, you stretched your arm until your fingers just about reached out from under the car chassis, where a tool handle was placed in your palm.
"One 5/8 hex screwdriver, that's the one you'll need."
"The screws are imperial?"
"'Course, kid, we're in America."
"Yeah, but you sell these cars globally; I just assumed-"
"Dear old dad set up factories all over the globe – allows for some regional differences in the schematics, then each production line just does its own thing. It's easiest for everyone."
You hummed your acceptance of his method, then started to undo the screws, until a light rock to the car paused you. The movement stopped, so you assumed it was just Tony leaning on the car and you moved to continue your work, until the hum of a motorbike -- the sound of which you'd previously ignored -- grew even louder. You jolted when the bike pulled into the garage, causing you to smack your head against the car's underbody and let out a low groan.
"Watch yourself, kid; are you alright under there?" Tony said from above. At your murmur that you were fine, he continued, "roll yourself out, there's someone for you to meet."
"Why's there someone under your car, Tony?" came a woman's voice -- the person to meet, you assumed -- "can't get under the car like the old days, hm?"
When you emerged, the bright light of the outside world temporarily blinded you; you could make out Tony's figure, and as your vision returned, you saw the newcomer's back was turned to you, so only an orange plait could be seen from under her bike helmet.
"Very funny," Tony scoffed, continuing the conversation before he pointed at you. The woman turned and you only just managed to stifle a gasp when you recognised her face. "This is an apprentice, wrote to me a couple months back asking to learn about Stark Automotives, so I've been training them since. Y/N, this is Nat. Nat, Y/N."
From the moment Tony suggested training you here, in the garage of the Avengers Compound, you knew there would be a chance of running into the rest of the team you'd spent your childhood idolising. But truthfully, you were too starstruck that Tony Stark himself had offered to train you to truly believe that moment of meeting the other Avengers would ever come.
Now here you were, facing the Natasha Romanoff, looking effortlessly cool with her white vest, jeans, and leather biker jacket...while you laid on the floor in a Stark branded boiler suit and a definite grease mark where you’d hit your head. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when you realised that the Black Widow's first perception of you was seeing you smack into an object directly in front of your face. You only hoped the blush didn't show when you finally met her eyes.
"Good to meet you," she said cooly, holding her hand out, but her eyes tracked up and down as if sizing you up.
You took her hand instantly, about to ramble through an introduction before a slight gasp from her shook you back to attention. Your eyes snapped down to where your hands met, and you realised then that you still wore your gloves, coated with oil from working on the vehicle, and now you've smeared it all over her uncovered hand. You instantly broke away -- apologising profusely -- and grabbed sheet after sheet of blue paper roll, offering it to her to help clean her hand.
"I'm so sorry," you repeated again, but she shook her head and smiled at you.
"I've had much worse meetings. I'll happily take a little bit of grease over being shot at."
"Woah-"
"Hey, kid," Tony began. Both your head and Natasha's snap in his direction; you'd honestly forgotten he was still there. "Not to interrupt, but have you ever worked on a motorbike? I made a few modifications to Nat's, and now that she's so kindly brought it to us I can show you how they work."
"Do not lay a finger on my bike, Stark," Natasha growled in a tone that reassured you that if she had actually been angry at the grease before, you would have known.
"I won't," Tony scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "...Y/N will."
You gulped, eyes darting between the two Avengers as you were drawn into the fold. "Me? Tony I'm not sure that's-"
"It's essential learning. We don't just make fancy cars so you have to learn it all. Nat, you wouldn't deprive Y/N of this learning, would you?"
Natasha groaned, but eventually relented, crossing her arms and perching on the counter by the wall. "Okay, but I'm not leaving you alone with it. And Y/N?"
You looked up, fear probably showing on your face. Natasha smiled in return, and allowed you to see a glint of mischief in her eye, "give me a running commentary of what you do. I trust your honesty more than Stark's." She smirked at the last part, rolling her eyes as she pointed to Tony behind his back, an action for you and you alone to see. Something about it put you at ease, so you nodded, smiled back, then got to work, spending the rest of the session under the assassin's watchful eye.
»»————- ★ ————-««
You watched the phone in your hand, hoping and waiting for those three little dots. Tony Stark was not a man famously known for his punctuality, but he’d been early to every lesson so far and now, ten minutes after you were due to meet, you’re starting to worry.
The worry wasn’t the lesson being cancelled so much as the worry that one of the other Avengers would walk in and accuse you of trespassing – there were still so many residents you hadn’t met, and without Tony present, you were just a stranger loitering unaccompanied in the Avengers’ garage, surely that looked suspicious. No matter the fact that you were supposed to be there and had gained authorised access with your security card, your anxieties continued to grow and grow.
Your heart rate sped up proportionately to the increasing rumble of an approaching bike. The seconds seemed to elongate when you knew there was no escape to being caught there alone. In the remaining time you had, you pulled your phone back out and, with shaking fingers, messaged Tony one more time – at least then you had proof, you kept your eyes on the device even as you felt the newcomer pull in and dismount from their motorbike.
“Let me guess, Tony didn’t tell you he’s away?” Your head snapped up at the familiar voice, face breaking into a grin as red hair broke free from under the helmet. Natasha had been showing up more and more frequently to your sessions, so her arrival was no surprise, but you were glad to have a friendly figure to justify your presence, lest anyone else appear. Natasha set her headgear to the side and hopped up onto the counter, following her usual routine; you watched her intently until you realised she was watching you too, still waiting for an answer.
"Oh, uh, yeah, no, he didn't- he didn't tell me. He's not coming?"
“He got called on a mission last night. Should be back in a few days, if all goes to plan, but I’ll have a word with him about keeping you informed.”
Her undivided attention unnerved you – Tony had always acted as a buffer before – so you fidgeted, avoided eye contact, and wondered what your next move should be. Thankfully, Natasha answered that last question for you: “It wouldn’t be right to send you home so soon,” she said, “And I am officially a Stark Industries employee still, you know, if you wanted…”
“Yes!” you exclaimed instantly, speaking before you thought. “I mean, yeah, if it’s no trouble. That would be awesome.”
“We both know I’d sit here and watch anyway.” She spoke softly and with a smile that you found yourself drawn to replicate, feeling more at ease in the spy’s presence. “Now then, I know about a lot of things but mechanics is an area where you might already have me beat, so how about something else?”
“Like what?”
“What do you want to know?” she shrugged, “Russian? Latin? Artillery? Archery? Wrestling? Weightlifting?” At your dumbstruck expression, Natasha smiled and realised she would have to make the choice for you, “how about the gym? You can impress Tony with your strength next time he makes you use that scissor jack.”
Your cheeks burn at the memory – neither Natasha nor Tony had said anything at the time, but both of them had needed to jump in and assist when you’d been unable to turn the jack enough for it to actually lift the car and fulfil its purpose. From Natasha’s warm smile, you could tell she still wasn’t mocking you for the incident, but you still nodded quickly and murmured agreement with her plan, before following her through the Compound towards the gym.
“Can I ask why you’re a Stark Industries employee?” you asked on the elevator, as a way to fill the silence and out of curiosity from her earlier words.
She laughed, “It was back in ‘09, we had to get intel on the newly revealed Iron Man, and the man behind the suit-”
“Tony-”
“Exactly. So, S.H.I.E.L.D. made some edits to the employee list, added my cover there, and I successfully infiltrated the company for as long as I needed. I only officially revealed myself at the 2010 Stark Expo – do you remember that? – and in all the chaos afterwards, they never officially took me off it.”
“I think I remember seeing it on TV – you were there?”
“I left before the explosions started, but I was around, trying to make sure as few people were in harm’s way as possible-” Natasha cut herself off as the two of you entered a space larger than any lecture hall, fitted with all sorts of workout machines – the majority of which you’d never seen in your life. “Here we are.”
“You use…all of this?”
She nodded, then paused, before pointing to a section in the corner where the machine structures and weights seem almost treble that of the current area. “That section’s for Steve, or Thor if he ever bothered to train. Us regular humans wouldn't move it an inch if we tried to use those machines.”
Natasha smirked and shook her head again, guiding you towards one of the regular machines: a chest pad adjusted to press against your front as you sat on the stool, while Natasha adjusted the weight and pulled the two handles back for you to grab them. With the position set, you looked up to her for advice,
“Pull the handles towards your chest and push them back to neutral, it'll work out your upper arms. That's where a mechanic will need strength the most, so aim for 10 repeats.”
Natasha watched carefully, adjusting your posture where needed, until you completed the set. You broke into a grin at the realisation that you'd managed it, one which Natasha happily replicated as she held her hands up for a high fives. “You'll be a pro in no time,” she promised, “ready to increase the load?”
The rest of the session continued in much the same manner – Natasha introduced you to different bits of equipment and perfected your form until your phone buzzed with a routine alert to mark the end of a session.
Natasha accompanied you to the door, smiling, receiving, and occasionally rebuking the many thanks you bombarded her with for stepping up. “It was truly my pleasure,” she said at last, “I'll make sure Tony is back next week, but if you want to do this again, you have my number.”
She squeezed your shoulder, turned, and began to walk back inside – all before you came to the realisation: “I don't actually have your number!” you shouted after her. Natasha didn't respond, but when you checked your phone only seconds later, a message had appeared in your notifications.
‘Yes you do :)
-N’
She really was some spy.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Everything changed from then on: you walked in to Tony and Natasha arguing a week later, their sudden pause at your presence a very good indicator that they were discussing you, something they confirmed only moments later.
Next thing you knew, both Tony and Natasha had taken you on as their mentee, a session with each of them once a week, and neither of them wanted you to leave. Your apprenticeship was extended into the next academic year, where you moved even closer to the Avengers Compound to visit them more often, the two Avengers – not to mention the others they'd introduced you to – always making sure you were well cared for whenever you visited. Eventually, Tony even offered you a full-time job post-graduation as the Avengers' official mechanic, and who were you to refuse? You loved the work just as you loved spending time with your mentors, so you could think of no better job in the world.
»»————- ★ ————-««
taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff & reader#natasha romanoff & y/n#natasha romanoff & you#tony stark#tony stark & reader#tony stark & y/n#tony stark & you#ikan writes#self insert fanfiction#reader insert#marvel#fanfiction#natasha romanoff fluff
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Rereading Two Hunters and a Bloodsucker by @robinette-green after the new chapter a few days ago and this will never not be one of my favorite parts
Also I love the doctor/uncle so much
#fnaf daycare attendant#sundrop#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#moondrop#dca fanfic#self insert fanfiction#fanfiction#vampire#vampire au#vampire hunter au
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The Story Of Us
Alex Keller x Reader
One Shot
TW: Mentions of d€ath, alcohol consumption, arguing. Light stuff compared to most of my shit.
“Now I’m standing alone, in a crowded room, and we’re not speaking.”
You and Alex were…well, you and Alex. Close, too close by military standards, but neither of you ever cared too much about that. Just enough not to cross that line. Not to start something that could never continue.
Then again, it’s not like you hadn’t ever thought about it.
Either way, you two didn’t really fight, ever. You didn’t have a reason to until he took whatever you are a step too far. Abused his ranking as your Lieutenant.
The mission was important, dangerous too, and you were on it. At least, you were supposed to be. That is until he pulled you out, replaced you with some rookie who did a worse job then you ever would.
His excuse still burns in the back of your head, the few words he was able to get out before you slammed your door in his face with a stern “Go to hell.”
“I just wanted to keep you safe.”
You sigh, liquor stinging your throat as you remember that one sentence. It was easier to be mad at him before he said that. It’s not like you’re not still upset, but you can’t help the way his softly whispered apologies through the door loop in your mind like a scratched vinyl.
He just…he knew. He knew how important it was. And he knows how good you are, everybody knows how good you are. That’s why you got assigned to that job in the first place. And it’s not as if Alex disagreed. In fact, he knows better than anybody how much you could’ve handled it.
It wasn’t that he doubted you. It was fear. Pure, burning hot fear that you wouldn’t come back from this one. That you wouldn’t come back to him. In his mind, he couldn’t not do something. He couldn’t see your name on that list, the list that might as well have been a death sentence, and just leave it there.
He might as well have just killed you himself. And, in a way, he was right. Somebody died on that job. And not some rookie, this guy knew what he was doing. And still, a folded up flag was sent to a widows home in exchange for her husband, for her daughters father.
There was never a chance in hell Alex would let that flag replace you.
He wouldn’t.
No.
He couldn’t.
Although, it didn’t seem to matter much to you, seeing as you hadn’t spoken to him since the incident. It wasn’t his place to make that choice for you. You agreed to that mission knowing exactly what it entailed. Death is a part of the job, always has been, always will be. He can’t change that, so all that’ll happen is he’ll limit you, and you’ll resent the hell out of him for it.
To make matters worse, Alex decided to pull this shit right before the big, miserable, military ball. The night you planned on spending with him, judging all the rookie douchebags before sneaking out as soon as you can, hopefully with a snagged bottle of tequila in tow.
Instead your standing alone, leaned against the cold marble of the bar top, forcing the grimace off your face as the vodka burns all the way down your throat. Your dress is a little too tight, along with the heels on your feet that have grown far too used to nothing but combat boots.
In short, you feel like shit.
Even more so when the person you’ve been avoiding (and missing) for the past few weeks sidles up to you at the bar, sliding over a ten as you order yet another overpriced drink.
You were hoping to forget about the whole thing, but the blonde next to you clearly has other plans. “On me.” He says simply, flashing a grin at the bartender that has her blushing and turning away sheepishly in about a second.
The worst part is, he doesn’t even mean to do it. It’s just…him. He’s charismatic, handsome, sweet, charming, everything that made you see him as more than just a comrade.
Right now, he’s also an asshole, but you’re having a hard time remembering that when he’s looking at you the way he is. The smile he usually has on his face is gone the second he sees the scowl on yours, blue eyes softening with guilt as his shoulders sag.
Fuck, he’s handsome. His suit jacket was abandoned a while ago, and the bow he always complains about at these events is untied to allow him to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his biceps, tattoos on display in a way that makes stuffy trophy wives passing by scoff.
Your momentary distraction gives Alex a second to look you up and down, and he’d happily spend the rest of his life soaking in the view in front of him if he could. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, but especially tonight. The makeup you’re wearing isn’t too overpowering, not hiding any of the face he’s grown to adore so much.
Despite the way your anger weakens at the sight of his face, you manage to think up a spiteful response. “First I can’t do my job, now I can’t buy my own drinks either.” You turn to look him in the eyes the glare that never seems to leave your face these days piercing into him.
The sigh that leaves his lips is prominent. It’s not like he thought you’d just get over it, but God, he hates being on your bad side. Not just because it takes so damn long to get off it, but cause it’s you. “Y/N…” He starts before getting cut off again.
“Oh don’t you worry Alex, I’m just glad I have a big, strong man around to take care of me. I mean, whatever would I do without you?” Your voice is flat, yet dripping with sarcasm as you down the shot he paid for. All the while he tries to ignore the way his breath hitches in his throat at hearing his name from your mouth for the first time since this all happened.
He reaches up, running an exasperated hand over his face. He knew you would be mad of course, but he didn’t exactly plan on how to deal with it. He just…acted. It was a panic response, the only thing he could think to do that would keep you safe. Keep you alive.
“It’s not about that and you know it. I don’t think you need protection, and I definitely don’t think you need me.” He answers, keeping his voice low to avoid causing a scene.
If it weren’t for the topic, the situation would feel awfully familiar. You and Alex at a bar, his voice quiet next to you, saying just the right things to get you to blush, his flirtation making your knees go weak as you try not to choke on your drink.
You hate how much you miss it, just after a few weeks.
You hate even more that this is happening instead.
You turn to face him, something a little more than anger in your eyes. The kind of hurt that only comes around when it’s dealt by someone you love. The kind that makes your body shake with the weight of it. “If I don’t need protection, why the hell did you do it?” You ask, cursing the way your voice wavers at the look in his eyes.
Love, or something close, anyway. It’s dappled with guilt, juxtaposed by the knowledge that he’d do it again if he had to.
Something in him snaps at your words as he whips around to face you with his whole body. “Because it wasn’t just about you, Y/N. I’m sorry for hurting you, I really am, okay? I know you’re capable, more than most the guys we’ve got out in the field. I know. But I couldn’t do nothing, I couldn’t let you go knowing at least one person probably wasn’t coming back.”
“Knowing that one person might be you. I lo…I care, about you, I won’t apologize for that. I won’t apologize for keeping you alive.” His voice shakes as he prays you didn’t hear it. That little slip. The beginnings of a phrase that’s all but banned between soldiers.
I love you.
You didn’t miss it. Of course you didn’t. How could you when you’ve been waiting years to hear it? Hear those three words slip from his mouth, the ones that you’ll never be brave enough to say first.
Now’s not the time to mention that, you both know it, but he started a fire inside you, one that’ll need more fuel sooner or later.
“You can’t always keep me safe, Alex.” Softness creeps into the edges of your voice as you answer, anger draining from your body like glass through a tire.
He doesn’t think anything’s ever hurt more than that one sentence. He was always going to have to face it, some day, at some point.
But now?
That, he wasn’t ready for. “I know.” His voice is barely a whisper when he responds. There’s a pregnant pause before he adds on:
“Doesn’t mean I won’t try.”
You quickly lose the fight to keep a small smile off your face at his words. You should’ve expected it from him. Stubborn, dedicated, loyal Alex. All the things that drive you crazy about him. They’re the same ones that make you love him, too.
Your fingers brush as you breathe out before responding.
“I’m serious, Alex. Never again. You don’t decide what I can and can’t handle.” Any attempt at sounding serious is quickly washed away as his hand slips around yours, grasping it softly.
Although, he’s still taking it to heart. He’s still listening, that much you can tell. Despite the way you, much like the bartender, blush as the beginnings of a smirk from on his face.
And despite the way he slowly inches closer to you.
Despite the way you lean into the circle of gravity that seemed to exist around him, you like the moon orbiting around the earth.
Despite the way his hands slowly sliding onto your hips send shivers running up your spine.
Despite the way your lips are mere inches apart, the liquor you’d both been consuming to forget now working to dampen your judgment.
Despite all that, he still makes sure to answer before his lips press against yours, a smile spreading across your lips to mirror the one on his own.
“Yes ma’am.”
A/N: okay this is a wee bit cheesy, cant lie, think i wrapped it up to fast at the end, but i still like it. figured it was only proper for me to write something for the love of my life before cod 3 drops. enjoy, girlypops.
(also i promise i’m working on part 2 of cowboy like me for any arthur enjoyers out there.)
- di <3
#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic writer#self insert fanfiction#fanfiction writer#alex keller x reader#alex keller x you#alex keller x y/n#alex keller#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#COD#cod mw#alex keller cod#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfic
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Kiss and Make Up
Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader
Warnings: Oral and fingering. MINORS DNI
Summary: You and Wanda make up in the best way possible
A/N: You can all thank braining 'anon' for this one, this is for you mate! No pronouns used for Reader. I was very close to making this Natasha x Reader 🤭
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
The two of you don't fight that often, but it can get pretty ugly when it does happen.
After you apologised for overreacting, it was time to kiss and make up. What you hadn't planned on was the kiss escalating as far as it has.
Your once clouded mind is now empty, filled with Wanda's whimpering moans because right now you're knuckle deep inside of her.
Wanda's smell pierces your nostrils as your lips wrap around her bud while lewd sounds from the pumping of your fingers fill the room.
By now you have forgotten what it even was you were arguing about.
Your tongue runs through her folds then your attention is back to swiping against Wanda's bundle of nerves, revelling in the way it throbs with need, her whining encouraging you.
But you want Wanda to scream your name so you curl your fingers in just the right angle, smiling when you hear the shriek that leaves her lips. Wanda smacks her hands over her face fearing she is too loud.
Moving away you tell Wanda to remove them because you want to hear her. You know how loud she can get so in that moment you make it your goal to see if you can get her even higher than you ever have before.
You are latched on to Wanda as you curl your fingers again, this time sucking her clit harsher than before at the same time earning you a slightly louder and longer shriek. You smirk at the result but know you have a way to go yet.
Your hand presses against her lower stomach to keep her hips down as she squirms around trying to raise them. Wanda's sounds are uncontrollable now, between screaming your name and begging incoherently, you know she's close.
As she reaches her high, Wanda's legs wrap around your head, smothering you, making you grunt which only adds to her pleasure but you keep at your current assault knowing it won't be much longer until it is over. The grip around you tightens so much more it makes you wonder if this is how it feels to be the victim of an anaconda.
You can barely hear anything at this point but you are sure you hear your name at the top of Wanda's lungs, the only sound that comes through is muffled. Wanda's muscles twitch and she gushes all over the bottom half of your face, your hand and the sheets below as she reaches her high.
Deep slow strokes take over to prolong her climax while you remove your mouth to take a deep breath when her legs loosen around you. As you catch your breath you see just how much mess Wanda has made.
Wanda is gasping as she comes down from her high. You take the opportunity to remove your fingers and clean up some of her arousal with your mouth. Your tongue swiping up what it can from Wanda's thighs and the less sensitive areas of her center.
Feeling Wanda's hand stroking your hair back makes you look up at her. She looks so blissed out with her hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. You can't help yourself so you crawl up her body.
Getting to eye level Wanda cups your cheeks, bringing you in to kiss you slowly, moaning at the taste of herself when your tongues meet.
Laying next to her you close your eyes to try to regulate your own breathing.
By the time you open them again to look at Wanda she is already looking at you whilst biting her bottom lip making you smile at her.
"You know, I don't even remember what we were fighting about," you say with a raised eyebrow.
Wanda lays on her side and snuggles next to you, her face going into your neck. "I think you fucked out all of my thoughts too," Wanda mumbles against you.
When her teeth graze your skin you move your head to give her more space. You close your eyes again as her tongue strokes over the same area making you hum appreciatively.
Turning your head you capture her lips with yours, pulling her in as close as possible with your hand on the back of her head.
Wanda's hand pulls up your shirt you still haven't removed because of how desperate you were to get to Wanda. When your stomach is bare she sits atop of you, making you gasp because you feel how wet she is.
Your hands go to her hips when Wanda moves them soaking the area. "Maybe we should fight more often if this is what comes from it," Wanda exclaims, clearly affected by her movements.
One of your hands goes to the back of Wanda's neck as you rise into an almost sitting position making Wanda gasp at the movement. You pull her in to kiss the dopey smile off her lips.
With your foreheads resting against each other, Wanda's breathing is erratic as it blows over your face. Your arms wrap around her waist to stop Wanda making her whine.
"Well, only one of us has come so far," you breathe out equally as affected.
Before Wanda can complain about the sudden lack of movement you flip her on to her back telling her to take off her shirt while you get undressed.
In a matter of seconds you are back on top of Wanda, spreading her legs and lining yourself up with her.
It wasn't a big fight but you sure will get the most out of the making up process.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff fanfic#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff smut#smut#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch fanfic#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch fluff#scarlet witch smut#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen x y/n#elizabeth olsen fanfic#elizabeth olsen imagine#marvel#mcu reader insert#self insert fanfiction#fic#kiss and make up tag
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#x y/n#y/n#self ship#self insert#self insert fanfiction#x reader#tmc x reader#the mandela catalogue x reader#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader
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hii!! if requests are open, could i have a gally and reader where during dinnee she falls asleep on him?? and he has to carry her back and everyones teasing them?? maybe they spend the night tgt and the next morning they confess? Just lots of teasinf and fun and blushy gally! Thanks 💕
Teasing and fun and blushy Gally you ask for, then teasing and fun and blushy Gally you shall receive.
If there was an ‘out’ to go to
Series masterlist, masterpost
Gally x fem!Reader
The Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)
Word count: 2474 (woah!)
Summary: literally what acupnoodle asked for. You fall asleep on Gally, he carries to bed and stays at your behest. Confessions are made.
Content: fluff (so much fluff), teenagers being teenagers, Gally is a sweetheart, friends to lovers ig.
Notes: ok I know it’s not that great but omg I had so much fun writing this. One request down, five to go!
You were exhausted. In fact, exhausted was an understatement. You were tired to the bone and you had no idea why. It wasn’t like you’d done anything out of the ordinary, “the ordinary” wasn’t even that strenuous. Sure, hammering in garden stakes might leave you with sore arms and blistered hands, and pulling weeds was hard on your back, but the gardens were easy. Not like being a builder. Not like him.
He was fine, laughing beside you at some (probably lame) joke from one of the other noticeably not tired boys at your little table, his shoulder bumping against yours every so often. He was always fine. Always ready with a smile and a nod to you, a large calloused hand held out like some kind of nineteenth century gentleman whenever you got up or sat down. The other boys liked to poke fun at him for how he treated you, but you adored it.
“You alright, (Y/N)?” he was asking now, his brows furrowed slightly. With a start, you realised that your head had begun to droop forwards, and that several people were looking at you oddly.
“Fine,” you said. Gally raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and continued to dig into the plate of rich stew and tender brown rice before him. Your mouth twitched with the hint of a smile as you felt his strong, rough fingers find and envelop your own under the table, squeezing gently. God, this boy.
The laughter and chatter was beginning to blur into one humming, buzzing drone in your ears, the food you’d just finished heavy and warm in your stomach. Your mind swam, at ease in the warmth and comfort of the glade, Gally’s hand anchoring you. But then you were drifting, drifting…
“Oi,” said Zart, pointing with his fork at Gally’s shoulder. “Did she just fall asleep?”
Gally turned his head carefully, glancing down at where the warmth of your body pressed against him. You were completely boneless, slumped awkwardly over his side, your hand still resting in his and your cheek mushed up against his arm. Your breathing was deep and even. Shit, you really were asleep.
“Be quiet,” he said quickly, “don’t wake her up.” He’d felt the moment your head had come to rest on his shoulder, but hadn’t let himself dwell on it aside from noting the frantic lurch his heart gave and the swarm of butterflies you’d unwittingly unleashed in his stomach.
The other boys, idiots that they were, hooted in unison.
“Gally the grump’s got himself a girl!” sang Ben, peering around to get a look at your sleeping face. “And a damned cute one too!”
Gally felt his cheeks heat uncomfortably. “She’s the only girl, shuckface.” But Ben was right. You were beautiful, when the sun was glancing off the walls mid afternoon and gilding you in gold. You were pretty, when you smiled as you took his hand when he offered it to you – something he still didn’t even know the reason for. You were fascinating to watch as you worked, your fingers effortless transforming empty dirt into a veritable wellspring of food. And yeah, you were cute, when you were slumped against his side, out like a light.
“Should we do something?” Zart frowned, still pointing his spoon at you. “She doesn’t look comfortable. And she might drool on you.”
“Gally’d love some (Y/N) drool,” someone – luckily for them, Gally didn’t see who – called down the table. “Wouldn’t you, Gally?”
“I said be quiet!” he whisper-shouted, glaring around. How you’d ever managed to conk out in this racket was beyond him, and how you’d managed to stay that way was even more of a mystery.
Ben frowned, drumming his fingers on the table. “Maybe we should wake her up, tell her to go to bed.”
“Do you wanna wake her up?” Gally almost snapped, keeping his irritation out of his voice with no small effort. “No, I’ll just carry her.” He said this mostly to himself, but realised his mistake in voicing the thought almost immediately. A massive chorus of whooping and laughter interspersed with a few whistles went up, a few boys even going so far as to bang their fists on the table.
Gally was quick to scoop you into his arms, standing carefully and gathering your limp form against his chest. It wasn’t a far walk to the tree that overshadowed your hammock, but every step risked tripping or stumbling, which would be disastrous while carrying you. You weren’t heavy, as such – certainly nothing he couldn’t handle – but you were a dead weight.
Finally, he reached the old sheet he’d helped you hang up as a sort of privacy screen, kicking it aside with a muttered curse when his foot got tangled in the material. The world really didn’t seem to be on his side tonight. Aside from the fact that he was holding you, of course.
You shifted in your sleep, a half-formed syllable slipping from your lips.
“Shh,” Gally whispered. “It’s alright, you don’t have to wake up. In fact, please don’t wake up.” God, what would you do if you saw him now? He could imagine the pink flooding over your cheeks, like it had that one time he’d thoughtlessly remarked that he loved your laugh. You hadn’t been able to meet his eyes for a full ten minutes, overcome by secret little pleased smiles whenever he caught a glimpse of your face. It’d made his heart soar, there was no other way to describe the swooping feeling inside him that still arose whenever he thought about the incident. There it was, right now.
Gally shook his head, dispelling the memory. He wasn’t going to get caught up in the stupid sappiness you unfailingly dragged out of him, the same sappiness that drew the mocking whistles and laughter of the other boys like iron filings to a magnet. You ignored it completely, though how, Gally was at a loss. He’d toyed with the idea that you were just unaware of it, but that had to be impossible. No, you were just a good deal better at keeping your head than he was.
Now, as he lowered you as gently as he could into the hammock, he was acutely aware of how close he was to you. You looked so small, bundled into the cocoon of well worn cotton on top of a mess of blankets – something he should have thought to move before putting you down. He let himself look at you for a moment. Your still, peaceful face; your chest rising and falling gently with every breath you took; the fine shadow your lashes cast on the delicate skin beneath your eyes. In the dim light emanating from the closest lantern, you could have come straight out of his dreams.
But you were real, and you were going to get cold if he didn’t give you a blanket. He wriggled one carefully from under your body, spread it over you and tucked the edges into the hammock. Then, on an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.
You stirred, a faint sigh and the tiniest hint of a smile. “Gally?” you slurred, your eyes still closed. Were you talking in your sleep? Should he respond?
“Yeah,” he murmured after a moment’s consideration. “Just me.”
“Mm.” You smiled again, fumbling to get your hand free. Somehow, as though by instinct, your fingers found his and you gripped his hand firmly. “Stay,” you whispered, voice thick with sleep. “Stay?”
Gally was frozen, unable to do anything. “Yeah,” he said dumbly. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
“Good,” you smiled. You muttered something else, but it was lost as you turned sideways and snuggled deeper into the blanket.
Gally stood stock still, his hand still in yours. What the hell did he do now? He couldn’t just leave, and he certainly couldn’t get in that hammock with you. The thought made something inside him twist with longing, but he had no idea if you wanted that. Sure, you were friends – close friends – but that was a step he didn’t want to take while you were asleep. No way.
Eventually, he settled down with his back against the tree, arm resting on the side of the hammock, fingers still entwined with your own. It was far from the comfort of his own hammock some five metres away, but the sound of your breathing and the small, warm weight of your hand in his more than made up for it.
It’s not so bad, he thought, resting his head back against the rough bark of the tree. The distant sounds of the other boys’ chatter floated through the night, mixed with the scuttling and chittering of the invisible nocturnal creatures who shared their home. It’s really not so bad.
The harsh, dissonant grating of the Walls woke you, just like it did every morning. You opened your eyes and, just like you did every morning, allowed yourself a few seconds to stare into the canopy of the tree above. Like every morning, the pale light of daybreak was filtering gently through its leaves, landing in soft patches on the blanket covering your body. You wriggled down in the hammock, just as you did every morning, stretching your arms wide…
“Huh?”
You jumped. Your hand had hit something. No, someone. That didn’t happen every morning. You spun, your legs tangling in the blanket, and stared. Gally was sitting against the tree, rubbing at his neck with a grimace.
“Gally?” you asked, unsure if you were still dreaming. What the hell was he doing here?
“Hey (Y/N),” he mumbled, wincing as he turned his head from side to side. “Bloody hell, that tree sucks.” Then, seeing your confusion, he frowned. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you said slowly. “What are you doing here?”
Gally’s cheeks flushed pink, his gaze dropping from you to the ground. You were a little grateful for that; you must have looked like shit. It was stupid, you knew that – everyone looked like shit in the Glade – but something about Gally made you care about the stupid things. How you looked, how you acted, how you sounded, how you smiled, how you laughed. He’d said he loved your laugh once, and you still couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across your face every time you thought about it. He drove you insane.
“You fell asleep at dinner,” he was saying now. “It wasn’t exactly quiet over there, and you looked tired. You were probably sleep talking or something, but you asked me to stay, and I didn’t know what to do so I just…” he trailed off, waving a hand vaguely around the hammock, you, and himself.
“Oh,” was all you could manage. You’d vaguely recalled the feeling of someone’s strong arms lifting you, a rough hand in yours, someone telling you that it was alright and that you didn’t have to wake up. And a kiss, feather light on your forehead. But that had been a dream, right? A nice dream, but a dream all the same.
“I’m sorry,” Gally was saying now. “If I overstepped or… or anything. I can go if you want?”
“No, don’t go,” you said quickly, then realised how clingy and desperate it sounded. “I mean, if you want to you can but I don’t mind.” You cringed at your own words, wishing you could pull them back inside you, stuff them deep down where they’d never see the light of day. “Thank you,” you said instead. “For… this.”
Gally smiled, picking at a piece of grass near his foot, twisting it between his fingers. “Anything for you,” he mumbled, then blushed, avoiding your eyes.
Your stomach did a flip, but you laughed it off. You swung your legs over the edge of your hammock, leaning forwards and taking his hand in both of yours. “I mean it,” you smiled.
Gally’s eyes flicked up to meet your own, clear and serious. “So do I,” he said.
You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You just sat there, dumbly holding his hand in yours and smiling, your heart thundering madly. He didn’t see you the way you saw him, right? He treated you differently to everyone else, he was softer and he smiled more. He never made jokes at your expense, and sure, he’d held your hand as you fell asleep on him and then carried you to bed, but he was just being nice, wasn’t he?
“Can I…” He hesitated, cleared his throat, then began again. “Can I kiss you?”
Oh. “Kiss me?” you echoed, your mind frozen.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, his cheeks flushing crimson. “God, sorry (Y/N) I didn’t–”
You cut him off. “Yes.”
“What?”
“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, you can kiss me. I want you to.”
He frowned. “Are you sure?”
You nodded again, leaning further out of your hammock towards him. He met you halfway, his lips soft against yours, and butterflies exploded into a whirling storm in your stomach. He was so gentle with you, his free hand cupping your cheek so tenderly it made you want to scream. You let your own hands find purchase on his chest, steadying yourself so as to avoid falling out of the hammock – you were definitely leaning too far forwards.
“Woah,” you whispered when he pulled back.
“Woah,” he repeated. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, as strongly comforting as anything that was him was.
“I didn’t know you thought about me,” you said. “Like that, I mean.”
He grinned. “I do. Do you think about me? Like that?”
You nodded, your own smile matching his. You were downright giddy, on top of the world, and nothing could ever bring you down.
Gally stood, holding out a hand to you just like he always did. You took it, pulling yourself to your feet gingerly. But this time, where he usually would have let your fingers slip from his, he held on.
“I’d ask you out,” he said. “If there was an ‘out’ to go to.”
You grinned. “I’d say yes. Besides, it’s the thought that counts.”
“The thought that counts,” he agreed.
You stood in silence for a moment, then, “I’d go ‘out’ if ‘out’ was a landfill site.”
“I’d never take you to a landfill site,” Gally said, shaking his head adamantly. “Never.”
“What if I liked landfill sites?”
“Maybe then.”
You smiled for what must have been the tenth time in the short time you’d been awake, stretching up to place a kiss on his lips. He held you close, smiling against you. Your knees practically turned to jelly.
“We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?” you murmured.
“I don’t care,” he replied.
You shrugged, smiling once more. “Neither do I.”
#the maze runner#Maze Runner#gally maze runner#gally x reader#gally x you#TMR#TMR fanfiction#tmr fic#fanfiction#fanfic#first kiss#self insert fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#fluff#tooth rotting fluff#maze runner fluff#like an avalanche of fluff#friends to lovers#friends to more
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