#but i am getting off them and returning to the land of the living

[aperrywilliams]

It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?

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Reader's POV

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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.

I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home. 

It doesn't feel like it yet. 

But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.

Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up? 

How naive of me.

I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.

Again, it's tomorrow's problem.

Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.

The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.

He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable. 

What a shame.

When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.

I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.

But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.

The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.

Fuck it. 

Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.

Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.

Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?

Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.

Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.

It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.

Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.

It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.

Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.

Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.

I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.

It was horrible until it wasn't.

I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.

Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?

-

Monday morning comes faster than I wanted. 

I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.

Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.

On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.

This Monday will be a blast.

Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.

"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.

"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.

"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."

The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name. 

I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.

My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.

I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.

Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.

I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.

Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.

Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.

My ex didn't. And as him, many others.

I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.

Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.

Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.

"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.

"Of course. I promised I would."

Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.

"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.

"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.

It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.

I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.

"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."

Andie nods in understanding.

"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"

Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.

That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.

"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."

"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night. 

I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.

"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."

Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.

"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.

"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"

"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.

The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'

That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?' 

Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?

"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.

"But do you want to?"

That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.

"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."

A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.

She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.

Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.

Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.

----

A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there. 

Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.

But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.

I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.

I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.

"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."

I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.

With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.

I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.

Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.

Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.

"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.

"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.

"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.

"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."

Weird. 

Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.

"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.

"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"

A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.

Wait. I know that voice. 

I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.

I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.

"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.

"Uh?"

"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.

"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.

"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.

"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"To you, sir. Have a good evening."

I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.

Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.

"(Y/N), wait!"

I turn and see him trotting towards me.

"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.

Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago. 

"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"

What's wrong with me? 

Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?

"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.

"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."

Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?

"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.

I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...

"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."

Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.

Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.

"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.

"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."

----

This time, it's my turn to pick the place.

It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.

As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.

"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."

There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.

"What about yours?"

Now is my turn to talk about my boss.

"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."

The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala. 

When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.

"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.

"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.

"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.

So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.

"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.

"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."

That's interesting. I want to know more about that.

"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.

I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.

"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."

"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."

What? Kick doors down?

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"

I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.

Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."

I roll my eyes. That's not the point.

"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"

Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.

Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"

He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."

I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"

Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.

"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.

Gosh, that smile.

"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."

Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.

"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."

Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.

"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."

Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.

It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.

"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.

"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.

I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.

"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."

"Fair enough."

After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.

"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."

Spencer's brow furrows.

"Ray is your ex?"

Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.

Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.

"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.

"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.

I chuckle. "Hell, he is."

It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.

"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.

"No. Don't do that. I invited you."

Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless. 

"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."

Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.

We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.

"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.

"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.

"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes. 

Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.

"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.

"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"So you really like my company, uh?" 

I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.

"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.

The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.

I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.

Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.

"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."

Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.

Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.

"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.

"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.

Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.

I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.

"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling. 

I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.

"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."

Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!

"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"

Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.

"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.

"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.

I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.

A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.

"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.

"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.

"Bet I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, (Y/N)."

I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.

Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.

Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.

I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.

Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)? 

Whatever it is, it feels so good.

-------------

A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Truth of fallen god

Self-Aware! Chuuya Nakahara x GN! Reader

Description: Howard Philips Lovecraft is driving people mad. Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald is destroying economy. Chuuya Nakahara is talking with a dying god.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Mentions of cannibalism. Some swearing. Chuuya destroyed Chasm off screen. Chuuya cuddles in the end.

____________

"Teyvat are on a verge of crisis... Crisis of faith. Shouldn't you... Be more concerned? Bend rules for a bit?" Echo of Creator's powers stepped from one leg to another. The bleak copy of First One took few steps towards the edge of a platform, looking down at Teyvat. At The First One's Land. Echo turned their head towards Sustainer.

"I... I can pose as Legitimate Reincarnation. Remind people of Teyvat, who's laws they should follow. What they allowed to do and what lines not allowed to cross."

Echo were now standing before Sustainer. And from the darkness, dozens of Celestials observed. Sustainer's siblings and comrades. Most of them fight together with The First One, witnessing the birth of Teyvat. Echo looked Sustainer in the eyes.

"Pose as my familiars. Let me take The Ivory Throne."

The Silence of Celestial, home and cradle of The First One was shattered.

"Preposterous!"

"Never!"

"Impossible!"

"Sustainer, let us throw that worm from the edge!"

Sustainer raised her hand, silencing her siblings. She looked directly in Echo's eyes. They didn't flinch. They already act, like Legitimate Reincarnation.

There was something strange with that Echo. Sustainer could feel a sickly sweet scent, coming from Echo. Their movements were careful and calculated.

Were Echo sick? Were they trying to live, what remains of their lifespan the best, they can? Is that what mortals do?

The First One was the best among them in understanding mortals. But, Sustainer, while not the best, was still good at reading people.

Sustainer's voice flows. And Echo knew, that they have no right to interrupt her. If Echo dared to break The First One's protocol, they won't live for another moment.

"Why you came here only now, Echo? Why not came here earlier? Why you didn't stop Fontaine's Prophecy? Why you didn't release Dendro Archon? Why you didn't stop Electro Archon? Why didn't protect people of Liyue from Osial and Beisht? Why didn't calm Dvalin's pain?"

Sustainer's nose was almost pressed against Echo's.

"Why didn't you stop Cryo Archon?"

Echo's voice was firm.

"I only got here. And immediately came to you."

Sustainer raise her head, looking at Echo from above.

"Or, perhaps, you were too scared to do something dangerous. You did nothing to earn the right to be on the Ivory Throne."

Echo yelled.

"I am also a reincarnation of Creator! And I won't be the first Echo on the throne!"

Immediately, air was knocked down from them. Echo was laying on the marble floor of Celestia. Guardian, Sustainer's brother, was holding Echo down. Sustainer towered above Echo behind his back.

"They helped people during dark times, before asking for a throne! You just want praises, that came with The Ivory Throne. Leave Teyvat, mortal. Leave, and never return."

Echo's gaze darkened.

"So, that's what you choose..."

Guardian yelled.

And he fell.

A dagger with white handle was sticking from the middle of his chest.

Dirty, blasphemous power raised from Echo... From the Demon.

"It was a good thing, I didn't eat all the bones of Previous Ones I could find. Aren't the knife from their bones great for slaying gods?"

Demon raised from the ground. Black, sticky tendrils came from the tips of their fingers, curling around Celestia.

A bone dagger flew through crowd. Attacking, killing, destroying.

"I can fool them. Their prayers will come to me. But, I can't let your prayers came to The Second Reincarnation."

Demon showed their teeth.

"Can't wait for their arrival. I will finally get fresh meat."

Celestia shook.

The Cradle of The First One was sullen.

It crumbled.

And gods fell down, while demon stayed above.

___________

Chuuya Nakahara was quiet. The broken god sat before him.

He supposed to simply look around Sumeru, to explore some parts of the region, they weren't familiar with.

Instead, he found a dying god. Or, more likely, dying god has fond him.

She called him the new familiar of The First One. And told him a story. Story, that happened year ago.

Sustainer focused her eyes on Chuuya.

"I saw it. I can feel it. Last pure remains of The First One's power. They... True Reincarnation are safe, right? You are their new familiar, right?"

Sustainer coughed, a bloody drop appeared in the corner of her mouth. She swallowed the blood.

"Or a guardian?"

Chuuya finally found his voice.

"Their friend... [Y/N]'s friend."

Sustainer's dull eyes shined.

"[Y/N]... Their name? How perfect. It's perfect. Truly divine..."

Sustainer forgot about Chuuya and start repeating your name over and over again.

A child-like smile appeared on her face. Sustainer of Heavenly Principles was happy, because she likes the name of Real Reincarnation.

Chuuya interrupted her.

"What happened to you? After the Fall of Celestia?"

Sustainer coughed again.

"Demon got me. When I was falling. Was dying ever since."

She looked at Chuuya.

"Death of divine can take centuries. We will exist as long as memories and knowledge about us lives. And will slowly die as long as memories and knowledge about us lives."

Sustainer's body trembled.

"But I can go now. They are safe. New familiars are near them. Take it. Use all of it. Protect them. Protect them, because I can't."

Sustainer grabbed the golden ornament on her chest. Tendrils of her power flow into it.

Sustainer disappeared in a golden dust.

And a golden ornament with her power remains.

__________

Chuuya never used his ability to make something, so, it takes multiple attempts, before he can make a somewhat of an urn from a boulder.

Sustainer deserved to have a grave.

The golden ornament was safely tucked in his pocket.

And his rage was boiling in his soul.

Chuuya thought, that the Truth was next.

Crazy knock-off bitch wanted to kill you.

The real truth was much worse.

Crazy knock-off bitch wanted to eat you!

Earth crumbled beneath Chuuya's feet.

If only he could walk straight to that thing and made it a bloody splat on the Dragonspine...

But he needs to stay calm.

They can't drop too much attention to them.

Can't let people knew about the plan. About their unity.

Lovecraft can pass as another monster from ancient history, Jouno, after Mondstadt, was keeping low, Fitzgerald's attacks were only aimed at Ningguang and Pantalone, Mark's and John's bank robbery can be passed as treasure horders' doings, same with Blue Mackerel's and Ango's scum. And it's not like Anemiac Freak and Sigma force people to go to their casino.

But the assassination attempt on Creator will be impossible to pin on someone else.

In Teyvat's people's eyes, only an Imposter can wish to harm Creator.

His rage was still boiling.

But, for now, Chuuya Nakahara will hold his desire to kill that thing under control.

But he wanted to do something. Anything.

Piano Man's voice echoed in his mind.

"Start with the mines..."

Chuuya stopped. He and Flags hold a little discussion few days ago. About Archon's and their powers. Topic of Mora and fallen Celestia came up. Mora supposed to came from Celestial powers. But, with Celestia out...

"...metal for counterfeit money has to come from somewhere... No one would question, that new Mora looked different. It still be money, that came from Creator..."

Chuuya might take a little detour and visit The Chasm.

________

Chuuya ignored Fitzgerald's gaze, getting on the boat, sitting near the blonde man.

Lovecraft's tentacles hold the boat firmly on his back.

For an octopus-like creature, Lovecraft was extremely fast.

Lovecraft, swimming underwater, keeping a boat with Chuuya and Fitzgerald above, will reach the island with a porta in an hour.

Fitzgerald finally spoke.

"That earthquake..."

Chuuya didn't let him finish.

"Existence of a Chasm got on my nerves. I dealt with it."

_____________________

He left a stone urn with golden dust in their secret cave. When everything will be over, he will spread it over the remains of Celestia.

The knock on the door made you flinch. You liked your lips and answered.

_____________________

It was almost time to go to bed. You silently lay under the blanket. You were afraid of going to sleep. You didn't want to see another nightmare.

"Who is it?"

Door slightly open and a familiar redhead looked inside.

"Hey, Dear Symphony, want some company?"

You nodded slowly.

Chuuya walked into your room. And you finally saw his attire. A familiar red-toned pajamas.

He was holding his phone in one hand.

"Hey, [Y/N], do you want to cuddle tonight?"

You froze. You used to love cuddles.

But, after Teyvat...

The last "normal" cuddles you get were with Dazai and Fyodor. Few weeks ago.

You stopped cuddling, because of your nightmares. Because your screams already woke up others.

You didn't want to wake up a person, who will lie next to you.

BSD Cast respect your decision.

Despite your decision, you didn't want to be alone at night.

You didn't realize, that you were crying, until Chuuya brushed your tears from your cheeks. He smiled softly, looking at you.

"You need some 'me time', Dear Symphony. To recharge. Let me cuddle with you, while you're listening to music."

You didn't speak. You nodded, leaning to Chuuya's touch.

_________

Sounds of music filled the room.

Chuuya was laying behind you. With his arm around you, his chest was pressed against your back. Your bodies were pressed tightly against each other. Your head was laying on Chuuya's outstretched left arm. He was holding your hand in his left hand. His nose was right next to your ear. His breath tickled your hair. Chuuya felt the rise and fall of your chest grow steady with sleep.

Good. You seem calm.

Chuuya moved his head to plant a little kiss on your temple. You smiled in your sleep.

Chuuya blinked away happy tears. He put his head back, nuzzling your hair.

Tonight, only you and him exist. Tonight, only your comfort matters.

Tomorrow, he will say to others, what he has learned today. Tomorrow, fury and rage will boil.

And after that will come new plans, new actions.

And even more love and care for you.

____________

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

Chuuya in red-toned pajamas

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #imposter sagau #Self-Aware Chuuya Nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bsd nakahara #sagau impostor au #imposter au #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau

[historicity-was-already-taken]

pixeljade: #it IS very much a complex issue and I feel like saying that has been pissing off a lot of folks on both sides #one fact i would add to the table is that the current actions against palestine DO constitute a genocide by definition #its a word i hear pro-Israel people get very upset by because they think it is inherently comparing this to the holocaust #but its not. some people DO and thats its own discussion. but calling it a “genocide” is simply accurate and undeniable

Speaking as someone who was that pro-Israel person in her teens and very early 20s, the reactions you're describing are 800% cognitive dissonance freak outs. Most of these people, like me, received either directly or indirectly from their Elders in the Jewish community a very trauma-induced and deeply emotional information about the history of this situation, which boils down to: "They tried to kill us all once and they didn't now we finally have returned to the Promised Land, the only place we have to shield ourselves against It Happening Again. Israel's detractors hate that Jews can defend themselves now, and if any of them, including the Palestinians, were to have their way, they'd see us all dead. We must defend ourselves at all costs, and not let anyone ever put us in existential danger as a people ever again."

And then to have some rando 19 year old who knows jack shit about your or your community or your community's trauma to get up in your face and start screaming at you about genocide? It's only going to trigger that intergenerational trauma, and cause the party being screamed at to dig deeper into their defensive, cognitive-dissonance fueled response. Which, if we were to boil that response down to a thought process, looks like "This person hates me and all Jews. They think we're a hive mind who don't deserve to live. Thank G-d for Israel."

What's complex, is that not everything in that trauma response is wrong, and not everything the dumbass 19 yo who has no interest in unpacking their own learned anti-Semitism was wrong.

Israel's actions towards Palestinian Arabs since 1948 does fit several definitions of genocide and/or ethnic cleansing. And many of the Westerners who scream about it the loudest are fairly openly anti-Semitic.

Now, as someone with big Holocaust intergenerational trauma in her family, I am sympathetic to the Jewish kid in this scenario. But cognitive dissonance is just that: the domain of a child. Adults understand that cognitive dissonance is a little voice in our head telling us "Hey comrade our discomfort with this is a little much. Maybe this is a learning opportunity?"

I mean, that's what I did. But it's difficult. Its uncomfortable, and that scares people. It's much easier to believe that "They call it the Naqba because they hate us and think our survival and access to national self-determination is a disaster,"* than it is to understand that "They call it the Naqba because it was the near total dispossession and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arab populations from their generational homes and properties."

And again, everything I'm saying here is a result of my journey from a hardcore Zionist-in-the-contemporary-sense child (though always left in terms of domestic US Politics), to a grown Holocaust historian who understands that Israel is no better and no worse than all the other nation states (for new readers, I understand the nation-state as a political entity, the logical end point of which is genocide and/or ethnic cleansing), and openly criticizes it on those grounds.

*A rabbi in a youth group I belonged to told me this almost verbatim when I was 15. And when you're 15 and somebody tells you they love you you're gonna believe them.

#this post is clunky but i have a fever so w/e #i have great love and compassion for my community as an american jewish woman #so much of how american jewry remembers the history of israel is shaped by our collective trauma #sometimes in ways that we ourselves don't understand #i'm not here to shit on them #but i am here to compassionately call them in #and the only groups who i don't expect that compassion from #are actual palestinians

[wastelandhell]

two drunk fools

#my art #val #and that other guy #val is just blabbering in incoherent runglish. danse doesnt understand but hes politely nodding. hes just happy to be there. #i really havent drawn much of anything lately i feel like i forgot how #would up getting hooked on sleeping pills and spent the last couple of months as a zzzombie #but i am getting off them and returning to the land of the living #for once things are going well here in furbyland #paladin danse

[tilleternitydouspart]

Little Bunny Overlord Hopping Through His Forest

In Hell’s social hierarchy, Overlords are above sinners. This is the unspoken rule that has been created since the beginning of hell itself. The elite club run by Carmilla Carmine come together when summoned to discuss and eliminate potential threats to each of the various souls they have all collected.

But a new overlord had been summoned which caused quite a few to turn their heads with confusion…: Y/n L/n The Bunny Overlord.

When heard about the latest member of their elite brand, Many members struggled to contain their laughter….But soon regretted it as a little scarlet red bunny emerged in front of them…..And bared their fangs, Biting off their fingers and ripping the flesh off the others as they hopped right back to their owner.

Only one laugh remained.

Alastor was perhaps the most sadistic of the overlords, Hiding in the shadows to find the most vulnerable souls and crafting the perfect deals to keep a tight hold of them. But who could forget that he held his position by getting rid of his fellow overlords and broadcasting their screams of agony on the radio.

So he was intrigued with this mysterious new overlord who had risen to power in 2 years before he returned. Alastor was pleased as punch when he witnessed the warning that they had brought.

The Bunny Overlord was always listening. 

In the days before the next meeting, Alastor wanted to find out more about the overlord so he sent his shadows to seek out this hidden overlord. Taking a sip of his tea from his radio booth, The shadow returned with an invitation for him, Sinking back behind him as Alastor started to read with a grin on his face.

Dearest Alastor, I am writing to inform you that I request your presence at Bunny Bliss Boutique on 10 Heartbreaker Avenue, Looking forward to your reply! I understand if you are too busy or cannot make it.  Regards Y/n L/n.

Taking a moment to adjust his bowtie, Alastor teleported to the overlord’s location, Smiling as many employees started to move out of his way, Hearing them whisper amongst themselves before going back to work as he made his way towards the front desk.

Alastor: “Hello my dear fellow, I was just in the local neighbourhood when I got this delightful invitation from your employer!, May I enter your charming establishment?”

Secretary: “Please hold on a moment sir”

Taking a moment to look around the building, Alastor noticed various bunnies hopping around, Some were flying, Others were causing objects to float around and one….seemed to be staring at him.

The same one who teared the finger off and hopped off causing the meeting to end early. 

It cautiously approached him, Jumping up onto the desk and sniffing him as Alastor picked the bunny up and held it in his arms as the secretary finished their phone-call.  

Secretary: “Sorry for the hold up sir, Miss Y/n will be waiting for you on the 6th floor in her office”

Alastor smiled, Bowing as he teleported to the 6th floor, Approaching a golden archway as two hellhounds glaring at him before beckoning him to follow. 

As they made their way into the office, Alastor took in the scenery in front of him, A waterfall feature that seemed to endlessly sparkle, A bar station that seemed to rival his own back at the hotel and finally a comfortable living area where several bunnies were watching TV. 

Alastor seemed to realise that it wasn’t a Vox-tech certified television which made him wonder how powerful this overlord was. Realising he was still holding the bunny, Alastor set the bunny down carefully, Watching as the bunny hopped over to a set of pink crystal stairs. 

??: "Miss Y/n?”

Y/n: *Distant* “Yes, What is it?”

??: "The Radio Demon is here to see you” 

Y/n: *Distant* “I’ll be right down!, Tell him to make himself at home!”

The hellhounds left him alone as he wondered over to the living area, Inspecting the Television as some of the bunnies hopped onto him with one landing on his head, Letting out a slight chuckle before noticing several magical trinkets on display.

Y/n: “I see Angelina has taken a shine on you”

Finally he was meeting the bunny overlord, The same overlord who sent one of her own to send a message and….he was speechless Why was he speechless?.

A petite bunny with short blonde hair, Small elegant horns that seemed to endlessly change colours, Her eyes shining with shades of crimson and black staring up at him as she seemed to have a bright smile on her face. 

In that moment as Y/n stood before him in her radiant attire, Draped in a glittered gold and red dress that seemed to defy the boundaries of what fashion could be in Hell, Alastor couldn't deny the aura of playfulness and elegance that surrounded Y/n as Angelina hopped into her arms, Nibbling on her long black lantern sleeves causing her to laugh. 

He was…captivated.

Y/n: “It’s such an honour to finally meet the legendary Radio Demon himself, Your broadcasts are one for the history books”

Alastor: “Well the pleasure is all mine, After all it’s not everyday in hell that I meet such a delightful creature such as yourself”

Taking her hand, He planted a small kiss on her paw, Making her blush as she bowed in front of him, Quickly noticing the remaining bunnies on him.

Y/n: “Girls!, Get off him, Show him some respect, I’m terribly sorry, They always seem to get excited when someone new comes into the office, Shall we continue our conversation upstairs?”

Alastor: "Of course, Lead the way darling”

Heading up the crystal stairs, His eyes seemed to stare at what angel would describe as cute. The dress seemed to cling to her petit figure with a touch of allure in the air, Watching her tail twitch as she gazed back at him.

Y/n: “It’s rude to stare Alastor”

Alastor: “My apologies dear, It seemed my eyes wondered off on their own”

Hearing her laugh sent pleasant shivers down his spine as they headed towards her desk as she held out a chair in front of him, Smiling as he sat down, Playfully chuckling at her as Y/n set down a teacup before sitting down in front of him. 

Y/n: “I’m truly grateful you accepted my invitation so soon Alastor, To be quite frank if I had known you were coming so soon I would have visited Rosie to see what delectables she had to offer”

Alastor: “You know Rosie?, Not many demons have the pleasure of entering Cannibal Town without being swarmed by the hoard of hungry children playing in the streets”

Y/n: “Well, I saved a few of the children from being hurt after their toy wondered into one of my districts and I made sure they got home safe, Well Rosie insisted I stay for a cup of tea and one thing let to another and we became friends” 

Alastor: “Hmm” He took a long sip of his tea as Y/n gazed at her bunnies who had followed her up and started to hop over to her desk.

Y/n: *Sighs* “Look, The reason I asked you here is…um, Is actually for a request”

Placing his cup down on the desk, Alastor smiled, Watching as Y/n gazed down at her lap with his shadow towering over her before being shooed away by Alastor as she finally looked up, Taking a deep breath before…

Y/n: “How did you gain respect?”

The sound of an audience laughing filled the office which included the sound of the Radio Demon himself, Holding himself together as she tried to remain calm but inside felt childish. This was Alastor, The infamous Radio Demon, The man who broadcasted his victims screams of agony for all eternity as a remainder on who they were dealing with.

She had to remain confident in his presence.

Alastor: “Oh, Forgive me my dear but I haven’t had a good laugh like that since the stock market crashed, Oh so many orphans”

Y/n: “..I’ve only been in power for 2 years and only recently have I gotten the ‘overlord’ position and yet… Demons think I’m a joke, A dumb bunny who probably got where I am by ‘sleeping around’ but Alastor..You’re back from being gone for 7 years and yet demons know to respect you!”

Jumping up from her seat with a smile on her face took Alastor for a shock, Her smile..It made something in his dead cold heart beat as she continued to gush about his overlord status before taking a breath, Noticing she was rambling.

Y/n: “What I’m trying to say is…Will you teach me about being an overlord?”

The Radio Demon hummed, Watching her ears twich with anticipation as most of her bunnies surrounded her before noticing the scarlet bunny known as Angelina hopped onto the desk, Sat in front of him and started to widen her eyes, His shadow appearing with a curious expression as Alastor picked up Angelina and walked over to Y/n, Her eyes widening as he bowed to her.

Alastor: “Well my dear, You’ve twisted my arm but being how you’re already the bee’s knees, I’m not quite sure how Hell isn’t fallen for your heavenly charms”

Noticing her blush, Alastor took her paw and lead her towards her balcony, Watching as many demons on the streets below started to gasp and take photos as he picked Y/n up bridal style, Smiling as Y/n could only stare at the large crowd growing down below. 

Y/n: “Umm Alastor?, Forgive me for saying this but…How is this helping me be an overlord?”  

Spinning her around before taking her back in, Alastor set Y/n down aware of her confused expression, Adjusting his bowtie before making a bouquet made of gorgeous white snapdragons appear.

Alastor: “My dear, It is quite simple....and one lesson my darling mother taught me” 

With the help of his shadow, Alastor used his magic to create a small box engraved with a crisscross heart with symbols surrounding it, Grinning up at her.

Alastor: “Always treat your bride with love and respect”

A/n: The ending is horrible I know!! but yeah, I hope you enjoyed this, May make a part 2 in the future!.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #x reader #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader

[mellifluouaamor]

Kissing Mashle boys before running hc?

MASH BURNEDEAD, FINN AMES, LANCE CROWN, DOT BARRETT, RAYNE AMES, ABEL WALKER, ABYSS RAZOR, WIRTH MADL, CARPACCIO LUO-YANG, ORTER MADL, KALDO GEHENNA (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

synopsis. the boys' reactions to you kissing them and then running away.

author's note. that one panel where orter tells cell to bend over has never left my mind and i may have brought it over to these headcanons i'm (not) sorry. orter can bend me over anytime- AHEM ANYWAY LIVE LAUGH LOVE WIRTH HAHAHA

you, running away from MASH? given his inhuman speed and reflexes, that'll be impossible. even if your action is as harmless as a kiss to his cheek, the first-year would reflexively grab your wrist and pull you flush against his chest before you can take a step away from him.

you'd be subjected under his signature blank stare for a few seconds as he tries to process what just happened, and when he finally registers the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek, he tilts his head to the side in an adorable manner.

"can you do that again?" he asks, surprising you. mash can't explain it - but he likes the warm and fuzzy feeling that would bloom inside his chest when you kiss his cheek. your kiss feels like... a bed of cream puffs. (don't question his analogy)

oh, sweet summer child FINN. if you kiss him right on his freckles in front of his friends, he'd combust on the spot as a string of unintelligible words streams out of his mouth. a flush of embarrassment would rise to his cheeks and when he turns around to tell you off, you're already running away, leaving him to think of how he should get back at you.

he'd spend the entire afternoon attempting and failing to ambush you, with you giggling gleefully as you skip out of his reach. argh, why do you have to be so hard to catch?!

when supper rolls around, you sit next to a defeated looking finn with your tray of food. as you're eating, he points out that you've got some sauce around your mouth and before you can wipe it off, finn has already leaned over and licks the corner of your lips (with his cheeks burning). you drop your spoon in shock while dot gags loudly in the background.

"oh," is all LANCE says when your lips land on the corner of his mouth. his fingertips brush against the spot you shyly kissed and when he turns to face you, you're already gone. figuring that the embarrassment must have gotten to you, he presses a loose fist against his lips as he chuckles softly.

the following hours would be lance contributing further to that embarrassment. he'd kiss your cheek when you're in the middle of a conversation with your friends, and he makes sure that you won't be able to pull away by gripping your jaw. the kiss would last longer than necessary, causing an awkward silence to fall on the group.

if you confront him about it, he'd simply squish your cheeks in his palm as he taunts you for being unable to do anything. try to talk back, and he'll silence you with his lips.

DOT would short-circuit the second your lips make contact with his cheek, his face flushing as red as his hair. as you run away from him laughing, he'd hold his face like he just got slapped, gibberish spilling over his lips and unable to think straight. mash and finn would have to hold him up to stop him from collapsing.

once dot recomposes himself, he'd chase you in the hallways and it immediately becomes a game of tag... with him almost crashing into the walls as you deftly dodge his lunges.

when he finally catches you, there's no escaping from his onslaught of kisses as he wounds his arms around you tightly. your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your neck - he leaves no area untouched. when dot returns a favour, he returns it tenfold.

RAYNE would turn his head the moment he registers the lack of space between your bodies - and that unexpected action causes his lips to meet yours in a kiss. you immediately pull away from him with a loud gasp, and the perpetual frown on his countenance prompts you to run for the hills.

touching his lips, he'd wonder why you ran away after boldly kissing him, unaware that you weren't supposed to do that and that you had only intended to ask him about homework. it wouldn't take long for him to chase you as if you're a little rabbit being preyed on by the wolf of adler dorm. (finn watches with a slack jaw as his older brother terrorises your poor soul)

the moment rayne catches up to you, he'd cage you against the nearest wall with his arms on either side of your cowering form. he's at a loss to know how to respond to your profuse apologies, only wanting you to kiss him properly after that accidental kiss earlier. he eventually manages to silence you by gingerly planting his lips on the tip of your nose.

ABEL doesn't express much emotion in the first place, so it's no surprise that he didn't give much of a reaction to your kiss on his forehead. when you did it in the middle of his conversation with the magia lupus, he stops talking abruptly while the other members gawk at your boldness. with a quiet "teehee", you prance out of the room as he touches his forehead.

in class, in the hallway, in the cafeteria - abel would stare at you from afar like you've committed the highest degree of crimes. you think that you may have offended him by pulling what you did in front of the magia lupus, but that's not the case as you would come to find out later.

in the evening, abyss brings you to abel's room by the scruff of your shirt. you're wondering why the hell you got dragged out of bed, and it isn't until you noticed abel staring at you expectantly did you realise he wants you to give him a good night kiss like a mother would to her child.

ABYSS, who had never received physical affection from anyone before in his entire life, would be so flustered that his mind becomes a jumbled mess. he doesn't even realise that you've already fled from the scene by the time he can think coherently again (and he's disappointed).

the kiss you gave him would linger on his mind for hours, and he'd throw subtle glances at you - specifically your lips. the warmth that spread from the spot you kissed on his forehead is... comforting, reassuring even, and he doesn't think he can continue his day without getting another one from you.

eventually, abyss would work up the courage to approach you. when he shyly tugs your sleeve with his gaze averted, you immediately understand what he wants and lean in to plant a sweet kiss over his evil eye, causing red to dust his cheeks. he'd hug you on impulse, wanting to be as close to you as possible.

WIRTH doesn't appreciate having his study time interrupted, so if you try to break his concentration by kissing the side of his neck, he wouldn't give you the chance to run away by trapping your feet in mud. he'd then drag you over to sit on his lap, where you'll be forced to stay until he's done studying.

it doesn't matter if you're in the library or the common room, you'll just have to endure the embarrassment of being sandwiched between his body and the table. he doesn't even hide the fact that he's enjoying the way you're squirming uncomfortably on his lap - that's what you get for trying to distract him.

he'd pinch your side if your squirming starts to get annoying, and if you try to protest, he'd immediately shut you up with a kiss - with every contact between your lips lasting longer than the previous one. it eventually reaches the point where you're left breathless after his kisses, and he smirks at the debauched look he's able to paint on your countenance.

CARPACCIO would stare at your fleeing figure with the same stiff expression he wears every day; he'd internally question why you would run off after kissing him when he has no intentions of harming you.

since he can't feel pain, your affectionate gestures are the only other external stimuli he can feel. he registers the pleasant feeling in his chest when you first kissed him, and has become addicted to the feeling since then. so really, he'd just accept your surprise kisses.

although he won't go after you when you run away, he'd actively seek you out and splay himself across your lap like a cat. when that happens, it's your cue to shower him with the kisses he has grown to like. this frequently happens since he tends to stay up all night for his research, and the warm feeling of your lips helps him fall asleep.

ORTER won't admit it, but your kisses are capable of breaking his composure; so when your lips suddenly press against his jaw, he'd freeze up on the spot, giving you the opportunity to book it before he can catch you. once you're well out of his sight, he'd push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks.

of course, no actions go without consequences - and you are no exception. to punish you for your little misdeed, orter would call your unsuspecting self into his office before bending you over his desk when you least expected it. he'd relish in your shocked expression and proceeds to intimidate you into submission, only stopping once he spots the teary beads in the corners of your eyes.

orter is not a cruel man. gently cupping your jaw, he presses a long kiss on your temple as a silent apology before letting you go.

another one who you won't have a chance to run from. KALDO can tell when you're about to attack him with a kiss and would pretend to be oblivious until you make a move. the moment you lean into his face, he quickly turns his head and places a hand at the back of your head to push your lips against his.

you're helpless in his grasp as he wraps an arm around your waist to press you against his body. if you just had a sweet snack, he would deepen the kiss and literally devour your lips, wanting to taste what you ate. when he finally pulls away, he'll try to guess the name of the snack while playfully smiling at your embarrassed expression.

kaldo treats it like a little game. if he can catch you before you kiss him and he happens to have some honey on hand, he gets your honey-flavoured lips as a reward and you'll be in for a long night.

#loveletters—! #mashle magic and muscles #mashle #mashle x reader #mash burnedead x reader #finn ames x reader #lance crown x reader #dot barrett x reader #rayne ames x reader #abel walker x reader #abyss razor x reader #wirth madl x reader #carpaccio luo yang x reader #orter madl x reader #kaldo gehenna x reader #headcanons #gender neutral reader

[yanaromanov]

pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

��Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #platonic kate bishop x reader #lawyer wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

[evilminji]

You know what I would kill to see?

Nedzu, in the Zone.

He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.

Whoops. Four year old with portals.

In a crowd.

Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.

Starts throwing the word "villian" around.

Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.

The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.

He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.

And to think, all he wanted was some tea.

How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.

He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.

The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.

There was no way to catch him in time.

He was already gone.

Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.

In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!

And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"

Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?

All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"

He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.

Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!

Then?? He just... shows back up to work.

How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori

#dp x bnha #dp x mha #minji's writing #nedzus adventure au

[callofdudes]

Best idea

Y/n had to go MIA/KIA to keep the 141 safe, once Simon founds out angry cause he mourned for his best friend only to find out their alive and in hiding, demanded platonic cuddles as their “punishment”

Ok, I'm gonna get the brain juices running for this one. Another one based off a story my bestie @itsscromp and I did. But I changed it up. Hope you enjoy, it's longer than I anticipated it being.

Also, I should have fully expected the repercussions of letting you guys vote Egg as a callsign... but I'ma still use it.

Where did you go??

Summary: They thought you were gone, dead. Turns out you were under their noses and a call away the whole time.

Cw: Angst. Nothing much else.

Your mission had gone... Well for lack of a better word it went to shit. Whole thing blew up. An ambush, a bomb, it would be a long road to explain what all in all happened but it did, and now you were paying for it. It had gotten so bad they couldn't pull you from the junction you were stuck in.

You were supposed to be infiltrating an old base which had become home to a drug ring. But no one happened to mention the mines you'd step on and fuck up your leg with. Or the live wire that alerted the whole base after said mine went off.

So now this entire base was up in arms, you have a broken leg and probably other damage. You were lucky your leg hadn't been blown off.

And to be quite frank, these men were extremely dangerous which meant your fuck up was astronomical. The second they found you you were probably going to die.

So you commed into Price, telling him your situation.

"Alright Egg, I'm going to go in on foot and bring you back to the helicopter just hang tight soldier."

"Yes sir." You lay down, catching your breath and willing yourself not to look at your leg because if it felt bad it probably looked bad too.

Not twenty minutes later Price was approaching your form, bending down to check on you. "You broken??"

"Yeah I'm pretty sure... I don't want to look though."

Price nodded, tucking his gun away and grabbed your arms. "Alright, up we go," he hauled you up into his arms, hefting you over his shoulder and going back the way he came. Just... A little quicker this time since things were looking good for the oppositions infantry.

Price brought you back to the helicopter where you were bandaged up. The mission could have been better planned so they didn't end up sending another team out.

Price had the team drop you off near some loading stations far off the location of the base.

"What... Are we doing here??"

Price got out of the helicopter and checked your leg before pulling you out with him. "I can't bring you back to base. It's a security risk if I do..."

You frowned. "What do you mean?? Where am I going then??"

"There's a secure underground safehouse that will keep you hidden. It's got the provisions you need and the people you need. They'll keep quiet and keep you safe. For now, for however long, I need you to lay low."

You opened your mouth to protest but then shut it again. "I understand. Will I get to see the others..?"

"No, you are not to contact them in any way at all. Until I contact you, you are to remain on the downlow."

Your head falls slightly, but you nod. "Alright, I can do that."

Price nodded and patted your shoulder. He picked you up and helped you into the truck waiting for you. "They'll take care of you. I'll contact you as soon as it's safe. If I do not contact you do not contact us. Got it?"

You nod once again, taking the instructions to heart. You wouldn't be able to contact Ghost, Soap or Gaz. You wouldn't be able to contact anyone. But you knew this was for the best.

So with a last goodbye Price closed the door to the truck and the soldier in the driver's seat drove down the empty road out of the landing space.

"How long will we be gone??"

"Until we get the word from Captain Price. Don't worry. It'll be kept under wraps..."

...

Price returned to the base, taking a deep breath and having had time to figure everything out. He immediately called the others into a meeting.

Considering you and Price weren't supposed to be back for the rest of the day, or even two days or more the meeting was seen as urgent.

Ghost was there first, the sergeants following his trail as they came into the office. "Price... What are you doing back?" Ghost asked sternly, hands clasped tightly as if ready for action at a moments notice.

"Relax... There won't be any fighting. I need you all to sit."

Soap threw Gaz a concerned look as they sat. "Where is y/n, are they still out there??"

Price straightened his posture. He didn't exactly want to lie to his own men, but he'd done worse and he knew this was completely for the best.

"The mission didn't go well as soon as we went in."

Ghost frowned. "Didn't go well?? These drug traders could be connected to Shepherd's on power, how did it wrong??"

"Ghost, relax." Price replied firmly. "I realize that we didn't think this over as well as we should have... Their base was much more protected than we originally thought so Egg went in blind."

"So what happened? Did you pull them??" Ghost was growing more agitated the longer they sat there.

"They commed in about an exploded mine and... We couldn't find them."

The room grew quiet. Soap and Gaz shared concerned looks as Gaz spoke up. "Did you do a full search? We're they hidden in the dirt or something and you missed??"

Price shook his head. "Too risky to go on foot and search. We didn't know how many more mines were out there." Only a small white lie, but a lie nonetheless.

Ghost squared in his chair. "Then we need to go find them. What are we sitting here for just waiting-!"

"Ghost, if they are safe they'll comm in. For now I can't risk sending men in there with the base on high alert and their supposed boss on speed dial. So for now we sit down and we wait to see if Egg comes back with anything."

Ghost was boiling up underneath. Feelings of rage that Price couldn't have waiting a little longer. Worry because they left you out there probably still alive... And fear. Because what if you weren't alive.

"I won't make any calls on it now, but this is where we are at so remain patient. I'm doing what I can to sort this out." Price had to rewire this plan to keep all of his men safe. All of his soldiers, including you.

"Dismissed."

The air was tense when everyone left. The idea you were out there alone, still alive and possibly if not injured and with no help. It scared them all.

Gaz was the first to try and get in contact with you. But any of his efforts were proving ineffective.

Soap just had to wait it out. To hope they could find you or you could find them in time.

Ghost... Ghost didn't know what to think. He knew you were capable. He knew if you were alive then you'd comm in. Once you were safe he knew you would make contact. You could protect yourself... He had to believe you would be ok.

That mentality lasted right up until a week later when Price called everyone back in to pronounce you MIA. Stamped on a card to your file and just like that, they truly had zero traces of you.

They were devastated. A week and no turn of anything from you. This is when Simon started to call your phone. Leaving you text messages.

He couldn't sleep because all his thoughts and dreams were of you. Hoping you were ok and alive. That hope was dying, waking up in cold sweats on nights he could close his eyes for even a moment.

Clutching his beating heart while his body rattled with panic, phone pressed to his ear only to hear your voice over the same simple voice mail as ever.

He couldn't be without you. You were a crucial part of his life. Of his mission. He couldn't just abandon that connection. You had to be alive.

Price cut communication with the safe house you were being taken care of. Unless it was an emergency Price knew not of your condition, only that you were safe. He too was worried, bouncing around through meetings and talking with Laswell and this and that and the other thing.

Trying to figure out what to do now that they needed a new plan and how long they could wait to re-infiltrate.

Simon had started leaving you voicemails, not knowing if he'd ever hear your voice again.

"Hey, this is Y/n, I'm currently busy but please try to leave a message so I can get back to you!"

Simon laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he held the phone to his ear.

"Y/n.... If you can hear me you gotta respond. Please, I don't know if you'll ever hear these again but if you're somewhere out there I know you're alive. Anything, please, I..." He closed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he saw you. Taking off in that helicopter, a pat on the shoulder and a good luck...

"I miss you. And I'm not giving up on you. I'm not." He wouldn't cry... He wouldn't cry. He would not cry.

"I'm going to come find you. I know somewhere you're still alive. Even if their torturing you I promise I won't leave you out there to die you hear me."

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he covered his eyes, curling up on his bed. "I know you hear me...." He choked out. "I know you can hear me...." He stares at the phone. "Please Y/n.... Please, anything..."

He stared at the phone, waiting like you would magically pick up and reassure him even for a second that you were ok and alive and even if you weren't thriving you were still breathing.

But no...

The voicemail lasted for over an hour. Simon laid there, staring at him phone, unable to bring himself to hang up again.

His thumb hovered over the phone. He wanted to say one last thing... He opened his mouth, but he hesitated. His eyes downcast and one last tear rolled down his cheek as he ended the call once again. Only to face another restless night of no sleep.

By the eighth month mark you were pronounced KIA.

Simon had pretty much known by that point. He'd lost his best friend but he had been in denial until Price told them. They couldn't find a trace of you. No body, no tags, no clothes, no weapon. You had simply... Vanished.

Simon continues to mourn all while you were still being held up in that underground safehouse. Sitting on the small rickety bed, watching the higher ranked soldiers also staying watch at the safehouse talk in the other room.

It was beyond difficult. No contact with outside, you ate, slept, the others tended to your leg and occasionally sparred with you to help you back on your feet.

You missed your team. Your friends. Your family.

You listened to every single voicemail Simon sent. You couldn't reply. Couldn't text him back or even pick up the phone for a second to let him know you were ok.

You remained radio silent.

Even as you'd lay awake at night with your phone replaying the voicemail, listening to the recorded lapse of Simon's breathing while he stared at the phone with an empty, sorrowful expression from the other side.

You missed him so much. You wanted to see them again. But you couldn't. Not yet. Would you ever get to see them again?? They couldn't leave you down here forever.

There was a brief knock on your door as one of the sergeants nodded to you. "Food is ready, new supply just came in."

You nod, pausing the voicemail. "Thanks... I'll be out in a minute."

You sighed, turning off your phone and tucking it away, praying that you'd see them soon.

...

Simon had lost you. Didn't even get a chance to protect you. It had gotten to the point where his lack of sleep would lead to seeing figures of you disappear down hallways. In a spark of hope and joy he'd rush to find you only to find nothing...

On the off days he'd run into a recruit or a sergeant wandering the halls. As soon as they would turn around though... The illusion would shatter.

His own mind was killing him from the inside. Sending you hundred and hundreds of text messages. Every morning and night, rants about his day and what he was feeling. If he was going to pour everything out like you'd ever see it he did it now.

Knowing you'd never pick that phone up again, knowing you'd never look him in the eyes again. Knowing he'd never hear your voice or feel your touch or know your comfort ever again.

This drove him further and further into the spiral. Price had never seen Simon beat up the punching bag so much he bled all over it. He'd never seen Simon get snappy and angry I'm split decisions like he did.

He'd never seen Simon grow so desperate and over protective of Johnny and Kyle. Because Simon's new fear was he'd lose them just like he lost you...

This went on for the next three months after that. Nearly a year since you'd died and they were back out on that minefield. A proper plan, a new way in, a new goal.

Simon was desperate to tear that base apart and even find a trace of your body. Even just a piece of your clothing or your signature engraved gun hanging in their armory somewhere.

But in the end he was left with no more questions answered than when he first entered that meeting room eleven months ago.

Simon had followed the trail to the last thread. The main office of that base. Pulling open every drawer and every cabinet.

"Lt stop you're making a mess-!"

"There's got to be a file or something here! There fucking has to be!"

"Ghost stop we found the information we needed. We have the shipments contained the base is clear what could you be looking for??" Gaz asked, trying to understand what had gotten Ghost in such a frenzy.

"A kill list or an interrogation chart. Anything."

"For what Simon!?"

"For Y/n!!" Simon snapped at them both. Breathing heavy as he finishes emptying every drawer in that office.

Price stood silently in the doorway. Enough time had passed. He wouldn't put them through this anymore.

"Come on lads... I think it's time I show you something."

Their attention turned on to him. Simon was almost vibrating with rage and anxiety. He just wanted any knowledge of what happened. He knew you were dead but his soul was restless without knowing. He needed to know...

They left, Price piled them in the helicopter and the ride back was silent. Simon stared at his hands the whole time. Soap fidgeted, knee bouncing and chewing his lip anxiously.

Gaz picked at the loose strap of his gun, also attempting to distract himself from the elephant in the room.

When the helicopter landed they weren't on base. They landed on the small helipad you had been brought to some some before. Price got out, motioning the other three to follow.

"Where are we Price??" Soap looked around, not recognizing the place.

"You'll know soon enough." Price brought them to a truck, talking with the officer in charge of the station before climbing in the driver's seat.

The sergeants got comfy in the back and Simon slipped into the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixed on the passenger window, watching the open land pass by and the fields of undisturbed flowers and wildlife.

What if he had found you here? May you would have liked that better. Surrounded by the flowers and the soft blowing breeze instead of wherever your body lay, ashes or not.

He turned away, fixing his eyes to the dashboard to try and distract himself.

The ride was quiet once again. Lasting about an hour and a half before Price stopped, parking the vehicle outside a small outpost of sorts. It wasn't build very high off the ground and was concealed by trees and wildlife.

"A safehouse. Why cannae we jus' go home??" Soap asked as he jumped out of the vehicle with the others.

"I'd prefer we made a stop here." Price said, leading them to the entrance where surpisingly a soldier was there to bring them in.

"Occupied? Now there's something new." Gaz whispered to Soap.

Simon didn't understand why they were even making this stupid trip. He wanted to go back to base. He wanted to hide once again like he always did.

"Captain Price, welcome back." The soldier shook Price's hand and walked them further inside.

"Sergeant! Their here for you!" The soldier called out, walking to one of the small rooms where you were. Where you spent most of your time.

You looked up. Who was here for you?? Your eyes widened. Them, your team! It had to be them they were back!

You pushed off your bed, leaning into your good leg and moved faster than you had in almost a year. Turning the corner and there they were. Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle. All of them.

But.... This wasn't the hopeful reunion you'd pictured in your head over and over again. No one moved. The thought of Simon rushing the hug you didn't come true as he didn't move.

Price walked over, embracing you. "Good to see you again sergeant." You hugged him tightly, so good to be held by him, embraced by Price again. You'd missed him so much.

Johnny was the second one to snap out of it, running over and wrapping his arms around you tightly. "What the hell is wrong with you doing this! You had us all sick and worried and heartbroken!!"

"It wasn't my plan... I'm sorry." You hugged Johnny back. "I'm so sorry Soap, I'm so sorry." Johnny couldn't stop his tears, not wanting to let go in fear you'd slip away again.

Gaz followed, hugging you tighter than you'd ever felt him do before. You'd never seen Gaz openly cry but he was balling, sobbing as he hugged you tightly.

"We thought you were dead, captain told us you were dead!"

"I had to do it to protect them... To protect all of us." Price knew this would probably take a bit for them all to come to terms and forgive him for, but it had to be done.

When the others were done cooing and coddling over you, there was just Simon left.

He felt alone. He felt cold and separated. He felt like he wasn't a part of the same bubble as the others... He watched them embrace and kiss and love on you... You. It was you.

You turned to him, but Simon didn't move. He didn't know if he could. He felt so consumed by his darkness and his grief it didn't allow him to step into the light.

He'd consumed himself so much if he touched you he felt he might burn. That you fall like sand from his fingertips and the illusion would shatter...

"Simon...." You whisper, stepping toward him, causing Simon to step back.

You could see the fear in his eyes. The lack of trust, the amount of hurt, the pain he must have went through to have one of his lifelines ripped away and then thrust back into his life suddenly like it was fine.

"I'm... I'm sorry Simon I didn't mean to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail you sent. I knew every text that went through. But I...."

"You could have told me you were fine! You could have told me you were ok!! Bullshit that you couldn't!! Bullshit!!" Simon thundered.

You remained silent. Simon glared at Price. This was his fault. You'd been taken away without warning. He could have kept it a secret he could have carried that knowledge and not been out through a years worth of fire from hell!

Simon threw his gun to the ground, not even carrying as he left again.

"Lieutenant! Simon!" Price called after him as Simon left the safehouse.

You placed your hand on Price's chest. "Don't... It's ok. Let me help him."

Price looked down. But he nodded.

You left the safehouse, finding Simon around the corner huddled up, shaky hands trying to light a cigarette to get his nerves to calm down and his mind to clear up.

"You hid from me." He cursed, acting like he was seconds from spitting your name into the dirt and squashing it. But you knew. You knew inside he was hurting more than anyone else on the team.

You knelt beside him, gently taking the lighter from his hands. "I never meant to hurt you. If I didn't have strict orders from Price I would have contact you right away."

"Why couldn't he have at least told us you were ok. That you were alive."

"I... I don't know Simon, you'll have to ask Price about that one. But I promise I never meant to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail, I didn't give up. I can see the pain it caused you."

You moved closer, slipping into his arms and hugging him tightly. The second you wrapped your arms around him. He felt your weight, your warmth, your heart pounding in your chest against his own.

Simon finally looked at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was shattered. So hurt from losing you.

"You fuckin' abandoned me!!"

"I didn't abandon you Simon. You know I would have picked up and came running back even if my leg was missing."

He knew it was true. But he was so... So angry and torn and upset. He wanted to scream and fight and he felt so small and helpless.

The real you.

Not some illusion passing corners or drifting through his peripherals. The you he could touch and hold and protect.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, never letting go of you even once. He didn't stop those tears as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I'm here Simon. I'm not leaving again ok? I'm right here."

He remained silent, crying as he held onto you. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It felt like hours passed. It felt like time slowed. What felt like two hours was twenty minutes when he finally pulled away enough to look at your face.

To see the light in your glimmering eyes, to see every feature of your face that made you, you.

His sergeant. His teammate. His family.

You smiled softly, gently pulling up his mask off his head to cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb gently over the dimple in his cheek you've seen when he shows you his smile.

"Smudged your paint a little bit," You whisper. "Let's get that fixed." You gently brush your finger over his face, feeling him start to relax at that familiar and missed touch as you fix the paint around his eyes.

"There we go. How can I help Simon. What will help make this better?"

Simon tried to flick away the rest of his tears, huffing softly. "Cuddles. And you are not allowed to say no after what you put me through. This is your punishment for making me go through that shit!"

You chuckle. "Oh, cuddles with Simon, scary. I'll pay the fine, I'll do all the punishment time of cuddles you request. Sound good?"

Simon nods his head.

"Ok, well how about we go inside now? I could use some cuddles too."

You were about to get up when Simon hugged you again. "I'm glad you're ok..."

You smiled softly, kissing the top of his head. "I am too Simon." You help his mask back on and the two of you head inside.

Simon would let out his feelings to Price sometime later when his head felt less foggy. For now, he was content to crash on the rickety old safehouse bed and koala cling to you till kingdom come.

Nuzzling up and holding you tightly, not letting you go for even a itty bitty millisecond.

And you were fine with that. You were glad you could be back with your family. Simon was glad to welcome you back. You'd be serving a lot of cuddle prison time. A strenuous task, but one all too rewarding.

Running your hand down the back of his head, scratching his back to help him relax and set himself at ease.

All he needed was to koala crush your soul into his soul, and then he'd be ok. Slowly, his eyes started to close after the exhaustion of the mission, but he fought to keep them open.

"I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise, I won't be going anywhere." You whisper to him.

"You promise?"

"I double swear it. I won't leave. I'll be right here."

He snuggled you impossibly closer and let his eyes close. He let his mind rest. His heart soak in you and heal. Slowly you could help mend what has fallen apart.

And cuddles were never a bad place to start...

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #captain john price x reader #platonic x reader #cod modern warfare

[toxicanonymity]

You can totally say no if your not comfy doing it but maybe you can suggest another writer who you may think might? But if yoir request are open is there anyway I can convince you to write on the topic of reader being Sara's best friend and has tried to come onto Joel multiple times (ie sneaking into his room etc) and then escalating to slipping a roofie into his drink one night while her and Sara are home on winter break from college? If you're not comfortable i totally understand and im sorry if I made you uncomfortable its just your writing for the darker stuff is so amazing 💖

locket.

2k, joel miller x dark f!reader | master list A/N: here's your 🕊️ in a pear tree 🖤 in a way, it's kinda the inverse of night talks 😅 didn't overthink this one, so FIWB. this is my 3000th tumblr post! WARNINGS: I8+ big girthy age gap (44/21), drugs, dosing, f masturbation, dubcon unsafe p in v, somnophilia-ish, choking adjacent move, degradation (both), cum, dead dove december ig (idk if i'll do a deader one this month).

You're tired of her hot Dad playing hard-to-get, and you're going to put an end to it tonight. You've come home with your college roommate, as you often do since your family lives far. Once again, her dad is dressed like a piece of meat. Tight, white, ride-me t-shirt. Cock bulging in his slutty joggers. He’s walking around double cheeked up on a Friday night in front of his daughter’s best friend. His daughter’s best friend who thinks about him every time she touches herself. 

Sarah falls asleep fast, and you can still hear the TV downstairs. You put on your locket, take off your underwear, and adjust your oversized, wide neck t-shirt to make a wardrobe malfunction inevitable with the slightest movement.  You creep down the stairs and pause at the landing, where you lightly caress your nipples, bringing them to full attention. You’re already tingling downstairs. You creep up to the edge of the living room with your arms straight down, pushing your boobs together, hands clasped together near your crotch as if you're cold. And to be fair, the air is a little cool on your bare cunt. You’re dripping for him, and the shirt barely covers your asscheeks.  Joel barely glances, then does a double take.  

His eyes fall on your breasts before reaching your face. His jaw clenches. After a few seconds, he asks, "What?" 

"Sorry to bother you. I couldn't sleep."

"What am I s'posed to do about that," he grumbles, looking away from you, resuming his focus on the television. 

You shiver and briskly rub your arms, feeling the air hit your exposed nipple for a moment, and you ask about changing the thermostat. He sighs, braces his hands on his knees, and gets up. You shamelessly ogle the bulge in his gray joggers. While he's on his way to adjust the thermostat, you open your locket and drop a little medicine into his can of beer: half a sleeping pill and half a Viagra. 

In the corner of your eye, Joel is lingering in the hall. He rubs his beard, looking at you while you pretend to look at the TV. He slowly walks forward. "Goddamn slut," he mutters under his breath, and you force away a smile as you sit down.

When Joel returns to the sofa, you're sitting next to his seat.  You bring your knee up to rest on the sofa and feel your pussy exposed.  He picks up a blanket off the other end and sets it in your lap.

"Take this with ya." He picks up his beer, and moves to the easy chair. You don't miss the way he adjusts himself as he settles into the chair. 

You make yourself comfortable, and when you just sit there, he says, "thought ya said ya were cold.”

“I'm comfy now.” 

You sit there in silence watching TV. He finishes his beer and gets another. You keep an eye on him. The sleeping pill seems to hit him first. His eyelids get heavy and he rests his head back on the chair. His breathing is steady. You think you see him getting hard. Yeah, something definitely moves in his joggers. He’s nodding off and jolts awake. He grabs his crotch and mutters, “fuck,” before he remembers you're there. You shift positions to lie on your stomach, facing him, with your ass exposed so he can see your butt cheeks. 

“Go to sleep, darlin’. God damn.” Your heart flutters. Oh, now he’s done for.

“You sure?” You ask and go into a cat pose with your ass higher in the air. 

“Yeah.”  His eyes are half shut. He tries to be subtle about slowly rubbing himself for relief, but you can see just fine.  “Fuck-” he interrupts himself with a yawn.  He shakes his head at you. “gave me somethin’, didn't ya?” 

You wet your lips and look down. “What makes you say that? Do you feel funny?”

“Like you don't know.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. You shift onto your side, then swing your legs around in front of you as you sit up on the sofa. “Well. . .I feel funny, Mr. Miller,” you purr as you spread your legs for him. “Yeah, I feel funny right here.” You slowly, lightly caress your mound near your clit with two fingers, then spread them to trace down your outer lips. 

“Somethin’ wrong with you,” he shakes his head. His brow furrows and he swallows. But he doesn’t leave. . .He looks back at the television. Your body is churning out slick, getting ready for him, but right now it’s going to waste on his sofa. You gather some from your hole and bring it up to your clit. You grab a breast and begin to touch yourself. He’s sleepy, but he's hanging in there. The heel of his palm is planted in his lap. 

When he begins to nod off again, you get up and approach the chair. He stays seated, awake but sleepy, and his breath deepens as you brace your hand on one arm of the chair. You wedge one knee between his outer thigh and the chair’s arm. Then the other side, so you're straddling him. You both look down at his visible erection. He looks up. His lips form a subtle pout, then part slightly. His brown eyes glaze over as he studies your face. 

“Dress like you want it,” you whisper. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. You reach for his cock and he gently stops your wrist. 

“I could be your dad,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“Please,” you whisper. Your hand doesn't stop, and he doesn't try to stop it anymore as you reach. You grab the rock hard protrusion and he silently grunts from the back of his throat. He’s throbbing against your palm through the thin cotton. Your breath hitches at the first contact. You twitch and ache for him. His brow furrows. 

“‘If you’re gonna do it, do it,” he challenges you in a near whisper. He must be painfully hard. He can't take it. You massage him through the soft fabric. 

Your lips part, and you tilt your head as you read his face. 

He mumbles, “Gonna pussy out?” He cracks a little smile and adds, “with your pussy out?”

You sigh. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Such a rotten girl,” he murmurs with half lidded eyes as his hands come to your thighs. You shiver in a bolt of pleasure as his hands wrap around the backs of your thighs and slowly run down to your knees, then up to your ass. He squeezes your cheeks, and his cock throbs in your hand. 

“Coward,” he whispers with a snarl and takes his hands away, resting his arms on the chair. 

You brace one hand next to his head on the back of the chair, and your heart shaped locket dangles as you take down his waistband with your free hand. His cock slaps against his white t-shirt, making a wet spot. 

Good Lord. Your mouth falls open. You tug the joggers down more. He grunts softly when you cup his soft, fuzzy balls. Then you release them, grab his shaft, and hear yourself moan. Never felt anything stiffer. It's angry and now the tip is actively oozing. Your mouth waters and your body opens up for him. 

He watches your face, then yawns again. You rub yourself and gather your slick, then wrap your slippery hand around his cock. You scoot your knees forward and hover over it. He inhales through his nose as you lower yourself to make contact. You pause with the tip just inside. It's already a stretch, but deeper inside,  your core is begging for more. Your entrance spasms around his tip.  He gasps and tenses, gripping the arms of the chair as you begin to sink down.  He closes his eyes and winces as his cock divides your walls and you moan as your bodies become flush. You sit on his dick while your body makes space for him and you get even wetter. 

“Fu–ohh” he tilts his head back. His neck veins strain. He's so goddamn hot. 

You slowly tilt your hips and let out only an inch of him before bottoming out again. His cock takes up so much space inside you. You look down between  your bodies. His white shirt has ridden up to expose the happy trail and the slight pudge of his lower belly. His stomach heaves with deep breaths. You begin to move on him, slowly. 

“Ahhh, fuhh-uhhhk,” he sighs. His brows knit together and he watches you ride him. 

You tilt your hips, seeking the pressure of your clit nudging his body. “Yeah,” you breathe and move a little faster. Your necklace swings, the silver heart getting closer and closer to him. Then his hand flies up to wrap around your neck, trapping the chain. His grip isn’t firm, but the presence of his hand around your throat is enough to freeze you on his cock and give you a surge of need. Your pussy spasms, your slick walls begging for the friction they've earned. 

“You’re sick,” he mutters, then his hips punch up and he sighs. He lets go of your throat, then tugs your shirt down under your tits. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, the corners of his mouth glistening with saliva. He reaches out and palms your breasts, then hooks his hands under your arms. He watches your tits move with your rhythm. 

“How many times have you thought about this,” you ask. 

“I don't think about it,” he claims, but his face says constantly. You massage your own breasts as you ride him, and he sighs. Hopefully he can't get enough. Hopefully he comes back for more. You roll your hips with a moan. That's why you didn't use a roofie - He needs to remember this. He needs to need it. “Mmm.” Maybe he’ll be desperate, mad. As he watches you ride him, his eyelids begin to droop again. Maybe he’ll be mad enough to take it. 

You gently slap his cheek. “Stay with me,” you command, and begin to ride him harder. You slot your fingers into his hair. “When's the last time you came,” you ask, massaging his scalp as you move on his cock. “Hmm?” You pause with his cock all the way inside, and he twitches inside you. “Hmm?”

“Days,” he whispers. You start rolling your hips again. “Been days, ohhh–fuck.”

“You're gonna come inside,” you nod. His cock twitches again. 

“Ohh, fuck. Are you–ohhh,” he sighs, “are you–ugghh.” 

“It's okay,” you reassure him, “It's okay.” God, the thought of Mr. Miller nutting in your cunt has gotten you over the edge so many times alone. You're close. You bring your body closer against his and grind your clit into him, your body moving his swollen manhood, subtly rocking it as your clit presses into his pubic hair and your insides swell with the pressure of pent up pleasure. “Ohh, God,” you sigh and feel your body tighten, tighten, almost there. “Ohh, fuck,” you pant. 

“Ohh,” he moans and his hips lift under you. The tension snaps and your clit pulses, making you whine. You grind into him as you pulse, release pressure, pulse, release more, losing yourself in waves of release. 

“Oh, God,” you moan, fluttering around his stiff cock. 

“Ugggh,” he groans and his hands come to your ass. He begins to move you on his cock as your climax wanes. He moves you harder and moans unrestrained. He grits his teeth, and his fingertips dig into the plush of your ass. ”Ohh,” he sighs and fucking erupts. 

“Oh shit,” you whine, and keep clenching around him with warm bursts of him flooding your core. “Ohh God.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, bursting again and again, filling you with his seed. “Ohhh,” his pulses fade and you come to a rest in his lap. He lays back against the chair breathing heavily. You lean forward and hug him. He doesn't have the energy to push you away. Soon, he's snoring and you're just sitting there enjoying the fullness of his cock and cum. 

“Mmm,” you sigh softly and begin to push yourself up. You let his cock out and some of his cum comes with it. You scoop it up from around his tip and draw a heart on his shirt, imagining how cute it'll be when it's dry and hard. Then you get off the chair entirely and draw a few small hearts of cum on his joggers. You pull the waistband up for him, then plant a kiss on his lips before leaving him there. Then you go back upstairs and put on your underwear before you get back in his daughter's bed. 

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Thank you so much for reading, ILY 💖 If you really like dark reader, you might wanna try my ghostface series every inch (there is also some power struggle/shift).

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I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not receiving a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" link on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#bfd!joel miller #joel miller x reader #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #dead dove december 2023 #dead dove #joel miller smut #dark!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #best friend's dad!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️

[vixstarria]

Are you mine?

So I was initially going to do maybe 500 words worth of them being cute and cuddly, but then this happened. I have no control at this point, I am just the messenger. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Mostly fluff and comfort with a bit of hurt (Astarion’s past recollections), basically just pillow talk, cuddling, banter, non-explicit, no spoilers 

Very late Act 1 / early Act 2 (pre-confession). I’ve already written past this point earlier, but I think it’s such a fun time to return to for anything flirty, with Astarion being in love but being pissed off and / or in denial about it.  

Approximately 2,000 words 

Being able to get by with little sleep was both a blessing and a curse. In no time at all you were ready to take on whatever the day would throw at you. You were rested, alert, ready for battle. The downside? The amount of time you had to spend alone with your thoughts.   

You weren’t fully alone, not exactly. You laid on your side with your nose buried in her neck, one of your arms underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around her, your leg following the bend of hers like you were chasing her warmth, bare skin on bare skin, your bodies filling each other’s nooks so perfectly.  

You could have been up and doing something useful, you supposed, but you didn’t want to waste a precious second of being able to just hold her. 

You winced and sighed, having caught yourself on that thought.  

Pathetic idiot... 

The truth was, you knew you were living on borrowed time.  

Oh you toyed with the idea of amassing more tadpoles for more powers and seeing how long and how far you could take this, but in your heart of hearts you knew this was a lunatic idea. The absolute best-case scenario was that one way or another, the tadpole would be removed from your brain, removing all its benefits alongside it. 

Then, you would spend the rest of your eternal life in the shadows, forever looking over your shoulder in fear of being dragged back to Cazador.  

You would never see the sun again.  

You would probably never see her again.  

Suddenly feeling choked up, despite not really even needing to breathe, you pressed your lips against the small of her neck, pausing then landing a few more small, soft kisses along her shoulder. 

She stirred and rolled over onto her stomach, looking at you with a knowing smile through her mess of hair. 

Shit. 

“Oh... I thought you were asleep,” you said. 

“I know...” she replied, stretching lazily. “You only kiss me like that when you think I’m sleeping.” 

So many implications in that statement. Your mind immediately churned out a dozen ways to respond, deflecting, denying, joking or otherwise brushing it off. But you wanted to see where leaning into it might take you.  

“Do I..? Here, I’ll fix that.” 

You leaned toward her, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just your lips brushing against hers, petal-soft. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as you trailed your lips further along her skin, leaving featherlight kisses from the corner of her mouth further up the side of her face.  

You were careful to keep the kisses tender rather than sensual. Not something you were accustomed to, at all. She smiled and squirmed a little as your lips dipped below her jawline near her earlobe. 

“That tickles...” she murmured, making you chuckle.  

“My sweet girl,” you whispered, nuzzling her ear. 

Ugh, where in the hells did that come from..? you thought, startled. 

She noticed. Of course she noticed. 

She shifted onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow and resting her head on her hand.  

“Am I? Yours?” There it was again, that knowing, quizzical look.  

“Are you not?” you asked.  

“Hmm... How can I tell?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you flashed her a roguish grin, which she ignored. 

“Should it be? Is there something you’ve done to claim me as yours?” 

Her words might have stung, had her tone not been so playful rather than mocking. She was encouraging, not denying you.  

I don’t suppose she’s going to count all the unspeakable things we’ve done to each other. I guess I wouldn’t either. 

“Is that what you want me to do?” you asked, slowly tracing a finger down her arm.  

“That depends... Do you want me to be yours?” 

This conversation was idiotic. Why was it making you increasingly giddy? 

“Come now, we have been doing this for how long? Are we really going to be coy about whether or not we like each other?” you asked, trying to sound assured rather than flustered.  

She leaned forward, as if to reveal a secret for your ears only. 

“That’s not quite what we’re being coy about, now is it?” she whispered, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips.  

You were completely out of your depth in this kind of flirting, if one could call it that. Concentrating on the physical and sexual, dropping innuendos, hinting at promises you had no intention of keeping, teasing, arousing, adding in just the right amount of vulgarity to otherwise honeyed words to make them blush and stammer in trepidation... That you could do all day as an afterthought, all while mulling over something you had read earlier, or otherwise being a thousand leagues away with your thoughts.  

But this... It was like she was playing with and delicately caressing your innermost, rawest feelings, all whilst inviting you to do the same with hers. Sex was barely even a consideration. This was an entirely different dance. And it was exhilarating. 

Before you could think of what to say, she moved on. 

“You know, Lae’zel propositioned me earlier,” she said, briefly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.  

“She did what? ...And how did that go?” 

“It was very... Lae’zel. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering to kill me or fuck me at first. I had to politely decline.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” you frowned. 

“Should I have?” She studied you with a curious look, resting her chin on her hands. “How would it make you feel? If I accepted her offer?”  

Like the whole world was pulled out from beneath my feet. Again. 

“You and Lae’zel? Hmm. Sounds like something I’d pay to watch.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes seemed to be piercing straight into your soul. You had to quickly do a double-take on whether your tadpole might have been betraying anything to hers, before rebuking yourself. She wouldn’t pry like that.  

Your eyes roamed around the tent as you tried to assemble some words that weren’t too far from or too close to the truth. 

“Lae’zel is... exotic. Far be it for me to stand between anyone and such an... ‘outlandish’ experience. But I would prefer to have you all to myself, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t devote all that time to making sure that pretty head of yours stays on your shoulders just to have Lae’zel decapitate you in her throes of passion.” 

“That’s still not what I asked, but I’ll let it slide,” she rolled her eyes. “Getting a straight answer from you is like trying to seduce a blushing maiden.” 

“A riveting challenge?” 

“A tiresome one. That’s most likely not worth the effort.” 

How many blushing maidens have you seduced?   

“Alright, fine, I admit I might be a bit jealous. ...On top of being concerned for your wellbeing, darling.” 

“Just a bit jealous?” she teased. 

“Matters of honour would demand that I challenge her to a duel,” you sighed. 

“You have no honour. And she would crush you.” 

“I know. But I would die a hero’s death. Songs about me would live through the ages. ...You might need to write them for me.” 

“Sure, right after I wrote songs about how I conquered a githyanki,” she snorted. “Or perhaps songs about being conquered by one myself? I could spin it either way. Which do you think would stir more loins?” 

“I don’t know and my own loins are taking no part of this. Now are you going to keep talking nonsense, or will you go back to sleep already?” 

“Why, so you can sneak more tender little kisses on me?” she laughed. 

You didn't really want her to fall back asleep. Talking with her kept your darker thoughts at bay. What you did want, was to feel her wrapped around you again. 

“You know what? If you’re not going to sleep, you may as well carry on with your business, and I’ll meditate sitting up for a change.”  

You snatched the blanket from her, making her exclaim a sharp “Hey!” as the cold mountain air touched her bare skin, and wrapped it around yourself, settling in a cross-legged position. Moments later, she was on your lap, facing you with her legs wrapped around your hips. Just as you anticipated. You smirked and accepted her in your blanket cocoon, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close as you kissed her. 

“So, my blushing maiden,” she said as she leaned away from you, slightly, stretching her arms around your neck and resting her forearms on your shoulders. “It seems I have you backed up against a wall. I won’t force you – do what you will with your virtue. But you must decide. Will you give in willingly? Or deny me, and spend the rest of your life wondering: what if?” She leaned in to whisper the last two words dramatically. “I will ask you again: do you want me to be yours?” 

You wondered if she had any idea how apt that comparison really was to how you felt. 

Or how eerily similar it was to some of the tactics you yourself employed when luring in your victims. Hells, even the words were almost identical to some of the ones you’ve used. To make them surrender with reckless abandon, throwing all caution to the wind, blinded by your promises. Cattle rushing happily to the slaughter. 

You knew all this. You’d seen it countless times. But just then, you also saw there was no malice in her eyes. Only something like hope that she was trying to mask with mischief.  

Wherever she was leading you, you wanted to follow.  

“Fine,” you said softly, looking into her eyes. “I do want you to be mine. And no, I don’t want to share you with anyone.” You felt oddly elated as the words left your mouth. “I’d feel compelled to dismember any hand that touched you, so to give me a fair chance at survival, could you stay away from Lae’zel? Please?” 

She grinned and grasped your face in her hands, pressing her lips against yours. 

“Good girl,” she purred, still grinning, earning herself a sharp pinch on her bottom, making her jolt before she continued. “This leads me to my next question: do you want to be mine?” 

There it was. The trap beyond the lure. You saw it clear as day. And still, you wanted to follow her. 

“Darling, after the past 200 years, I’m really not disposed to letting anyone else claim ownership of me”. You watched her smile falter, and you hurriedly continued before it turned to sadness or disappointment, or worse, pity, and spread to her eyes. “But I just might make an exception for you… If the offer is mutual.” You took one of her hands in yours. “So, are you? Mine?” you asked, placing a kiss on her knuckles.  

Who’s backed against a wall now? 

"Of course I am. As if you even needed to ask.” She touched her forehead against yours before placing another kiss on your lips. Did she have to sound so triumphant saying that? “I am yours and no one else’s. Now you say it.”  

Ah, still me. 

Still, you fought hard not to laugh as a feeling of relief spread warmly throughout your body. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were. 

“Alright, alright...” You cleared your throat and held a dramatic pause before continuing. “You are mine and no one else’s.” 

She let out an exasperated growl and grabbed and twisted one of your nipples. You chortled even as you yelped, grabbing the offending hand and holding it behind her back. She immediately made another attempt with her other hand, which you also successfully intercepted, now holding both her arms behind her. Refusing to give up, she went for your shoulder with her teeth, with a maniacal giggle, as you laughed and tried to fend her off with your chin.  

“Yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, you feral wildcat! I’m yours... Only yours.” you declared hastily into her hair somewhere near her ear, as she calmed down. “I mean it. Now behave! I always ask before I bite, don’t I?” you said, releasing her arms. 

She attempted to glare at you, her eyes narrowed, but couldn’t keep her face straight and broke into a grin again.  

“Well... Look at us...” she drawled, placing her arms back onto your shoulders. “Snatched up onto the nautiloid with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and now we’ve each got a whole other person.” 

She looked so pleased and happy... Why..? This couldn’t last. No matter how much you wanted it to. …Could it..?  

You were falling, deeper and deeper. 

My love... My sweet, sweet love... Where are you taking me? 

~~~~~ 

Next in series - Gentle warding bond

Want more of these two? There’s more. Series master list. 

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #prying Astarion’s feelings from his cold dead hands #1st base raw sex #2nd base I anxiety vomit in front of you #3rd base we go outside during the day

[artiststarme]

Dead or Alive

After Spring Break, no one could find Eddie Munson dead or alive. His Uncle Wayne, the angry mob, even the police couldn’t locate him so everyone assumed he was dead. Some grieved his loss but most celebrated his apparent demise believing it to be what he deserved after killing Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason and hurting poor Max Mayfield.

Once the town recovered enough, Wayne bought a headstone for an empty grave and dutifully washed off the new graffiti that appeared each day. The kids of the Party mourned the loss of their idealistic Dungeon Master and disbanded Hellfire Club out of respect to him. And Robin and Steve disappeared to Steve’s empty house to grieve the loss of a friend (or so it seemed).

Because while everyone thought they were grieving and finding support in each other, they were actually caring for Eddie’s wounds and watching gay movies on Steve’s couch. They are junk food, cuddled in front of the TV, and appreciated being alive.

Steve couldn’t be around the party because he was supposed to be broken-hearted but it was the opposite. While he left the Upside Down the most recent time with more scars, both mental and physical, it also gave him everything he’d ever wanted. It took him away from the job he hated, gave him more time to spend with Robin, and it gave him a prospective boyfriend.

He felt bad keeping Eddie a secret away from the kids and his uncle but he had no other choice. Until he and Robin could brainstorm a logical explanation for his innocence and return from the dead, it’d be the three of them in hiding. Which to him, wasn’t a bad thing. Between the love of Robin and Eddie, his house felt less like a crypt and more like a home.

After a few weeks, they’d all gotten used to their solitary. Imagine their surprise when someone walks in on the three of them watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show right on the scene of Rocky showing off his fishnet clad calves. Imagine Officer Phil Callahan’s horror when his eyes landed on an injured homicidal maniac sitting half on his brother’s lap while drooling over Tim Curry. And imagine Steve’s mortification when his brother stood unmoving in the doorway of the living room with one hand on his hip and the other held over his open mouth in shock.

“WHAT IN THE FUCK IS EDWARD MUNSON DOING IN OUR PARENT’S LIVING ROOM?!” Phil shrieked, his face going red in barely concealed rage.

Steve, Eddie, and Robin all spoke at once.

“Is he? Oh my goodness, I didn’t notice. Steve, Eddie is in your house!”

“It’s just Eddie, you piece of shit.”

“Ok technically, I can explain.”

Phil just looked at them like all three of them were insane. “HE’S A KILLER!”

“No he’s not. He’s just a metalhead, Phil.”

“What is that supposed to do with anything, Steve?! I don’t care that he’s a metalhead, I care that he murdered at least three people in a week!”

Steve shot up from his seat so he was nearly eye-level with Phil. “Woah, he did not! I was with him the entire week and neither of us killed anyone.”

Phil just shook his head in confused exhaustion. “Is he dangerous?”

Steve looked him directly in the eye, “no! He didn’t do anything and he’s one of my best friends now.”

“Fine. I’m not dealing with this shit tonight. You,” he pointed at Eddie, “don’t kill anyone. And Steve, do not wake me up before ten AM unless someone is getting killed. Jesus Christ.”

He stomped up the stairs, grumbling under his breath the entire way. Meanwhile, Steve sat back down next to Eddie and gave him a small smile. “Well, that went better than expected.”

Eddie looked at him in disbelief, “did it Steve? Did it?”

(It, in fact, did not. The next morning, Steve had to tackle Phil away from the phone when he tried to call the chief and then had to hold him down while Robin rambled the entire story in an impressive four minutes. He only gave up once Steve threatened to disappear himself and Eddie (and Robin) forever without ever contacting Phil again.)

Should I make this into a longer fic? Let me know in the comments please!

#everyone else finds out that Eddie is still alive after Callahan helps to clear his name #him and Steve and Robin still move away but Phil acts as a protective big brother and goes with them #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #officer callahan is steve’s brother

[satforsatoru]

𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭

➪ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

no warnings

“You shouldn’t have gone on that mission by yourself.” 

The corner of your lip twitched, dangerously close to a frown. Satoru had been nagging you nonstop about the three-day mission you had just returned from, and your patience was getting thin. 

“I think I got that the first… I don’t know, three times you said that?” You snarked, still trying to focus on the book in your hands. 

You’d been looking forward to finishing it after your mission, but Satoru had barged into your apartment, pissy and demanding that you indulge his complaints. “You’re not getting it,” He hissed, approaching you from where he was pacing a hole in your living room carpet.

“I was available to go on that mission with you!” He insisted. That one phrase sent the rest of your patience up in flames and you slammed your book shut. 

“I am well aware since it was me who asked that you not go with me!” You hissed, unthinkingly. It took a long moment of silence from Satoru for you to realize exactly what you had just said.

“Wait, Satoru, I didn’t mean-”

“You asked for me not to come?” He repeated lowly. You blinked back at him, your mind running rampant with possible responses, but none of them could be forced from your lips. Truthfully, the idea of going on a mission with him terrified you. 

How could you compete, or even keep up, with him? Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder what it mattered to be a sorcerer when Satoru existed. After all, what could you compare to the strongest there is? 

Someone so powerful that the very earth shook at the beginning of his existence. What did it matter if you exorcized curses or not? Try or give up? You would never amount to even half of what he was on his worst days.

You didn’t used to be so insecure, you were strong (or you used to think so) and took care of curses that others couldn’t. It wasn’t until that fateful day that Satoru confessed and promised to always be yours that you began to have doubts. 

Insecurity hovered closely behind you as he told you of his missions or how easily he’d taken care of curses that you couldn’t even begin to imagine facing off against. Worse yet were his promises to protect you, as if you were a helpless thing (but wouldn't you be, compared to the strongest?) that only he could save.

It was your painful, little secret, your feelings of incompetence. You knew it was foolish, that he would never hold the difference in power over you, but having to see it in person? You feared that it might be too much for you.

“Why?” He stressed, impatient with your tense silence. You just shook your head. “I handled it fine! I didn’t need you to babysit me,” You shot back, tired of the stinging in your chest. Your lover scoffed, as if unable to comprehend your words. 

“‘Babysit’? You were gone for three days! I could have helped and had you home in one! I just missed you!” He cried incredulously. The meaning of his words was lost on you the moment he mentioned just how much quicker he would’ve succeeded. 

“I don’t want to go on missions with you, Satoru,” you confessed, “I don’t think I can handle it.” The frustration seemed to melt from his features at your defeated tone. 

“Handle it? Baby, handle what?” He murmured, hands reaching to hold you. When you didn’t move away, one hand made its way behind your head, and the other landed on your back holding you to him. “What use do I have… when around the strongest? Nothing I do can really matter if you can do it twice as fast and so much better,” You whispered brokenly. 

“You don’t truly believe that, do you?” Satoru sighed, pulling away from you. The corner of his lips raised in a small smile and his thumbs gently brushed away your tears. 

“What does it matter to be the strongest if there’s no one else? Not even the ‘strongest’ can do everything by himself… I need you, and every other sorcerer who risks their life every day, so baby, don’t ever think that what you accomplish doesn’t matter.” 

His words were earnest, but your insecurities were strong. Even when you buried your face in Satoru’s chest, you couldn’t hide your feelings from him, six eyes or not. He knew you.

“Do stars lose their worth because they’re not as bright as the moon or the sun?” He murmured into your ear and you laughed around a sob. “When did you get so smart?” You sniffled. Satoru pressed a heavy kiss to your cheek and you could feel his grin.

“I know right? I saw it Pinterest!” He exclaimed, far too proud of himself. You couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling a little better. 

“And here I thought you came up with that all on your own,” You snorted, hugging him tighter. “Let me come on a mission with you and I’ll impart all of my Pinterest knowledge onto you,” He promised, only half joking. 

You lifted your head to meet his gaze and his smirk softened into a fond smile. “Whenever you’re ready, sweet thing. I hate being away from you, so let me go with you, yeah?” 

The idea of it scared you still, but you had faced worse, and this time, the strongest was going to be beside you as you did so. 

requests are open and reblogs are appreciated!!

#💎diamond encrusted #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo hurt/comfort

[queer-geordie-nerd]

I am nearly 40 years old and I've considered myself a leftist politically since I was old enough to form my own opinions. Have I always been a shining moral example? Definitely not - there have absolutely been times when I've had unexamined prejudices and been called out on them. It's deeply uncomfortable having to examine your own prejudices and to be told that you're wrong, and I get the instinct to push back.

But never in my entire life have I seen as much doubling down and ignoring of minority voices and as much mask off bigotry as I have seen this last month in reaction to Jews telling pro Palestine activists that a lot of what they're doing is blatant antisemitism and actively harmful to their community.

Absolutely, advocate and uplift Palestinian voices and draw attention to what is happening, because what is happening is utterly appalling.

But when you happily parrot genocidal slogans like 'From the River to the Sea' while totally ignoring anyone's attempts to tell you why that is so hideously problematic, when you unironically call for the total eradication of the only Jewish nation state on earth in a way that you never ever do for other nations whose governments have committed similar or worse crimes, when you happily chant shit like "Death to Zionist pigs" without the first clue what that word actually means (hint: it's not shorthand for 'evil barely humans who want all Palestinians dead' and it's incredibly disgusting to use it that way. Zionists believe in the Jewish right to return to and live on their ancestral homeland. That's it. That's all) then don't think for one solitary minute you possess any kind of moral high ground.

And when leftists who usually loudly proclaim the right of indigenous peoples to return to their land have the audacity to turn around and say to Jews "not you though - actually you're terrible and evil for even wanting such a thing. Never mind that the rest of the world has engaged in your wholesale dehumanisation and slaughter for thousands of years, your desire for your homeland is the bad thing actually" what is that hypocrisy but blatant antisemitism? Please, enlighten me.

When a Jewish person tells you are peddling in antisemitism, just shut the fuck up and listen.

A caveat to this is that I am not Jewish, I don't know any Jewish people IRL, none of this impacts me personally. But I am a human being, and will not and cannot stay silent about the hypocrisy and outright dehumanisation of other human beings by people who cannot for the life of them either open a history book or take the time to actually listen to the people this impacts and instead just perform their self righteous little dance.

#antisemitism

[rookie98writes]

That's What I Thought

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, rough sex, rough oral sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, praise kink, blow jobs, cum swallowing, choking, overstimulation, POV reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: You ask Kakashi not to hold back, and he is all too happy to oblige.

AO3 Link

Waiting for Kakashi to return from a long mission was torture.

It was one thing when you still lived separately; able to focus on things in your own space and get your mind off the dangers he might be facing. But you had been living with the Copy Ninja for a few months now, and this mission was the longest he had been away since you’d moved in.

The mission wasn’t exactly dangerous—accompanying a party delivering a message to the Hidden Stone—but there were always risks when shinobi left the village.

Plus, the apartment still felt more like his than it did both of yours. You had only worked in a few of your own touches: some of your favorite sweet snacks tucked beside the health food in his cupboards, your one house plant you had managed to keep alive sitting on the windowsill, your toothbrush next to his by the bathroom sink. But the overall furnishings and décor were still Kakashi’s, and it felt strange to occupy this space without him for so long.

You collapsed on your stomach on the bed, feeling lonely and a little bit needy. You missed your silver-haired sweetheart, and he wasn’t due back for another two days.

The bright orange spine of a worn Icha Icha paperback on the bookshelf caught your eye. There wasn’t much in this world that struck up an image of the Copy-nin quite like one of the raunchy romance novels he could be spotted reading all over Konoha. Just reaching for the book and bringing it closer made you feel like he was closer too.

You had read it before, though not nearly as many times as Kakashi had. But still, you knew the flow of the story well enough to flip through the book to find the particular part you were looking for. Once you had it, you grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffed it under your hips, propping up your butt as you settled in to read. You just wanted to feel the pressure beneath you for some semblance of intimacy to satisfy you until Kakashi was back home.

You just had no idea that would be happening before you even got to the end of the chapter.

You didn’t hear the door open—didn’t hear his footsteps as he padded to the doorway of the bedroom.

You didn’t hear him at all. Not until he spoke.

“Don’t you dare move.”

Your body jerked in surprise, your heart racing as you looked back at him. “Kakashi? You’re back early!”

“I am,” he agreed in a level tone, taking the few steps necessary to bring his feet to the spot on the floor directly behind you.

He reached out and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. You yelped as he hooked his hands around you, yanking you back a little, your back arching to present your ass. “Mmmm do you just lie around like this when I’m not around to enjoy it?”

“And what if I do?” you teased, wiggling your hips.

He growled, climbing onto the bed and covering your body with his own. “Then I’d better take advantage of this opportunity while I have it.” He yanked your panties down, then rubbed the palm of his hand over the soft skin he’d exposed. His back pressed into you as he leaned closer, his teeth nipping at your neck. “Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already eager to please.

Kakashi lifted his hand from your ass, only to land a sharp smack on the direct center of your right butt cheek. “Then why aren’t these legs spread yet?”

You quickly shifted your knees just enough to grant him easier access. “That’s my good girl.” He reached forward between your legs, using two fingers to spread your entrance open, toying with your folds.

You trembled as you felt his fingertip circle your clit. “Fuck, Kakashi…”

He removed his fingers and sucked them clean before lifting off your back. You could hear as his clothes piled on the floor. “You might want to hold onto something.” You turned to look at him, eyes wide and cheeks pink at the sight of him standing at the foot of the bed, stroking his cock. “You’re about to take all of this, beautiful. So get ready, because I’m not going easy on you.”

You felt a tremor as your arousal built between your legs. “I don’t want you to go easy on me,” you smirked. “I want you to be rough.”

“Fuck,” he growled. He wrapped his hands around your upper thighs and gripped, then pulled you back to press his hips against you, his aching dick poised to split your wet cunt in half. He moaned as he rubbed himself along you, his voice vibrating deep in his throat. “That’s what you want, baby?”

While he hadn’t ever treated you like some fragile piece of glass, you knew he was still nervous about being as rough as he sometimes wanted to be. He cherished the typical affectionate, tender way he usually made love to you, favoring positions where he could look in your eyes, kiss you, and feel as much of your body against his as possible.

But some days, he just had a different look in his eye, like he was desperate to go absolutely feral on your body. And although that look easily aroused you beyond the point where it was obvious to the perceptive jōnin, he still had a bad habit of holding himself back or apologizing for—in his mind—going too far. But you’d finally talked about it, and now, having made it clear to him that he was more than welcome to indulge himself, you couldn’t wait to see what he would do.

“Mhmm.” You blinked your wide doe eyes at him, feeling your body tremble in anticipation of everything he was about to do to you.

His eyes stayed on yours for an extra second. You knew his Sharingan was looking you over for any signs of unease or discomfort, but you also knew he wouldn’t find a thing.

Apparently satisfied with what he saw, Kakashi suddenly dug his fingers into your hips and yanked you backward, impaling you on the full length of his cock.

You screamed and instinctively tried to scramble away, reaching for the pillow and trying to pull your hips forward. He chuckled a low laugh. “I told you to hold onto something.”

He quickly slid you forward, pulling you almost all the way off, just to yank you back again. He slammed you along his length repeatedly, fucking himself with your submissive body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. “Ohhh your little pussy feels so good,” he growled, bringing you back with more force than he’d ever dared use on you before.

“Ah! Ah!” You could only yelp with every move he made you make. “Ka-AH!”

“Mmmm, you look so good right now, bent so perfectly for me to fuck into.” He leaned over you, biting into your shoulder. The sensation was so intense everywhere he was touching you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, overwhelmed by all the stimulation.

He used his chest to push you down into the mattress. His left hand reached around the front of you to rub your clit while his right grabbed your throat. No longer able to manipulate you along his stationary cock, he began pumping into you like an animal, grunting into your ear.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” he groaned, “letting me do whatever I want to you. Such a sweet, pretty girl for me with such a soft, warm pussy.”

“Kuh—Kashi!”

“Mmmm you were made to take my cock, weren’t you, baby?”

You gasped and choked, his hold on your throat just tight enough to restrict your ability to properly speak.

“I asked you a question,” he scolded you, rubbing your clit harder—hard enough to make you see stars. “I expect an answer. Was this pretty pussy made to take my cock, or wasn’t it?”

A pathetic cry escaped your throat, your entire body trembling. “Ngh—YES!” you cried out, feeling yourself precariously close to cumming. “K-kashi yes!”

He hummed, his callused fingers continuing to abuse your bundle of nerves. “That’s what I thought.”

You shrieked, pulled over the edge by the assured tone of his voice and his relentless use of your body. You felt your walls clench in on him, a spark of pleasure almost too intense radiating through you.

“Are you cumming already?” he smirked. “That’s so cute.”

You writhed under him, waiting for him to slow down and ease you through. But he didn’t; not even a little. In fact, his hips started moving somehow even faster, fucking you deep into the mattress as you tried and failed to recover from your climax.

“Mmmmm, it feels so good when you tighten in on me like that.”

You babbled incoherently. The aftershocks of your orgasm were finally subsiding, although he was still lighting all your nerves with every deep, harsh thrust. You wanted more, despite the sharp pleasure still washing over you. He was just so fucking sexy like this. You would take him for as long as he wanted.

“You like it when I fuck you like this?” he smirked, fingers rolling your clit in a tight trap. “Hm, yeah you do.”

“Ka…Kashi…” you tried to focus, but he was pounding into you so fiercely and abusing your clit so intensely, all you could do was pant and take it.

“Does that feel good, baby? Am I making you feel good?”

You furiously nodded. It felt better than good. Incredible. So fucking good, you wished the two of you had tried this way sooner. The trust you felt for him—knowing he was vigilantly watching for any signal you needed him to slow down or stop, even while fucking you into oblivion—made it so that you could fully enjoy the primal way he just took you.

He was absolutely merciless, his thick cock splitting you open as his fingers claimed your throat and clit. You felt warm puffs of his breath on your neck as he kissed and nibbled at your jaw.

The sounds of the room were deafening. His bedframe was creaking under the strain, despite your body taking the brunt of the force. When he wasn’t saying depraved things in your ear, he kept audible with low, throaty groans and grunts. His skin was slapping into yours, sounding absolutely filthy with the sound of his cock sliding back and forth along your slick cavern.

“You’re mine,” he growled, panting in your ear. “You belong to me.”

You were heaving and panting like an animal in heat, your eyes fluttering closed as he adjusted just enough to start directly plowing into the spongy area behind your clit. He was attacking your most sensitive area from both outside and inside, and you didn’t stand a chance.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as he made you cum again. You could only squeal out pathetic noises, broken whimpers filling the room as your vaginal muscles spasmed around his cock.

“Again?” he smiled. “I didn’t realize I was fucking you that good. It’s like you’ve been waiting all day to cum on this cock.”

“Gods…” you groaned, finally coming down again. “Kashi…”

“I want to see your face,” he growled, his hands sliding from your body. You nearly collapsed without the support of his hold. But before you even had the chance, he slid out of your heat and flipped you onto your back. It was so quick, the sensation was dizzying. You huffed out a breath as your back hit the mattress, your head settled on the pillow.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Kakashi smirked down at you, kneeling on the mattress and pressing into the backs of your thighs with his legs. His wide palms held your knees in place, pushing them apart to lock eyes with you. “Now I can see the cute faces you make when I fuck you.”

He didn’t waste another second, lining you up at exactly the right spot for him to slide back inside of you. A high-pitched sound flew from your lips as he filled your compliant, welcoming body once more. He slipped his hands to grip the fronts of your thighs, bringing you back to bump the backs of your thighs into his hips as he pulled you in to meet his thrusts, the thick head of his cock bumping against your g-spot with deadly accuracy.

You couldn’t maintain even a shred of dignity, your eyes rolling back into your head as your tongue lolled out of your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered as you lost yourself in the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

“Very good, sweetheart,” Kakashi purred, using his arms to hike your ankles to his shoulders. “That’s what I like to see.”

You grasped haphazardly at the sheets and pillow beneath you. All control of your body had been given over to him. You choked out whimpers as he impaled you on his dick again and again and again. The whole time, his speed and force didn’t falter for a second.

“Look at how well you take me. I love how eager you are for me.”

You regained a little control of yourself and looked up at him. He was watching himself disappear into you, completely mesmerized as your body adapted to accommodate him. Between the look on his face and the way he held himself, he looked so self-assured and gratified; it was easy to see how he’d earned a reputation for being cocky.

But you knew better. Where some saw narcissism or arrogance, you knew you were simply seeing a man who was proud to be doing his job well; to know his efforts were for the benefit of another: the village, another shinobi, the rare friend. But every once in a while, on occasions like these, his efforts benefitted himself. And as far as you were concerned, he deserved to make whatever self-satisfied face he damn-well pleased.

Those expressions were just for you, anyway. The curve of his mouth, the way his teeth sunk into his lower lip, the taut muscles in his neck. His cheeks, his nose, his jaw; his entire beautiful face that you wanted to cover in kisses: it was all for you. And being the object of his desire; the helpless little thing caught in the gravitational pull of this gorgeous, imposing man, letting himself loose and having you in every way he wanted?

Gods, there was nothing better.

His eyes slowly raked up your form, settling on your chest. He looked like a man possessed; his sole focus the way your breasts bounced with each powerful thrust. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he grunted, his fingers digging into your flesh as he spread your legs further. “I love watching your perfect tits bounce when I fuck you.”

Hearing him voice his voyeuristic desire made your breasts ache with need. He’d ignored them to this point; his attention concentrated solely on your lower body. But suddenly, it felt like you would scream if you didn’t feel his fingers on your breasts. “Touch me Kakashi,” you panted, arching your back to present your chest. “Please touch me.”

“Heh, is that what you want?” he teased, keeping a steady rhythm of pounding into you. “You want me to touch your pretty pink tits?”

“Please,” you gasped. “I need you.”

“Mmmmmm, you need me?” he smirked.

“Kashi please!” you tugged at the sheets, desperate for relief.

“Hmm. Well I do want to touch them,” he mused, “But I need to keep my hands here so I can keep doing this.” His grip tightened on you as he doubled his efforts, pumping into you so quickly that sweat was starting to bead on his face. “So I want you to touch them.”

Your fucked-out brain couldn’t follow fast enough. “Wha?”

“Play with your tits for me, Y/N. I want to watch you touch them while I fuck you.”

The heat rising in your face was unavoidable. With the furious way he was using you, you didn’t even think your face could get any warmer. You were still doing everything you could just to survive his onslaught; you weren’t even sure you had the brain power or command over your own extremities to functionally get your hands where he wanted them. But his eyes snapped to yours, and for a second, you got a taste of what it must be like for shinobi under Kakashi’s command.

Attempting to disobey seemed pointless; this Kakashi was impossible to defy. But he was taking your hesitance as insubordination, and you could tell by the impatient look on his face that he would not accept your behavior.

“Now, Y/N.” Kakashi broke you out of your spiral, his voice a deep-throated snarl that made your skin tingle. That tone did something to your brain, giving you all kinds of ideas. Your response fell from your lips by some strange, new instinct.

“N…No.”

His brow furrowed and his body stilled. His hands still gripped your thighs as he held you against his hips, his cock buried almost fully inside you. The look on his face was almost comical; never before had the great Copy-nin had reason for such indignant confusion to color his face.

But you didn’t dare laugh.

An excited form of fear was building in your stomach as Kakashi continued to stare at you, the look on his face easing just barely as he fell completely into his authoritative role. “What did you just say?”

This was your one and only chance to have any hope of taking it back. Kakashi had already had more than enough time to figure out that your response wasn’t truly refusal. He knew you didn’t need—or even want—him to stop. But you weren’t about to take it back. Because if this was how he was going to react to your disobedience, you wanted to see just how far you could push him.

“I said no,” you repeated, boldness prickling through your veins, even as your voice took on a whinier tone. “I won’t. I don’t want to do it myself. I want you to touch them.”

He held your gaze for a few seconds. Even like this, Kakashi was stunning. Just looking into his eyes like that made your nipples ache with want and your cunt clench with need. All you wanted to do was comply, and give him exactly what he asked for. Anything to get him to start moving again. But you stood your ground.

The corner of his mouth twinged upward for a fraction of a second as his confidence and dominance washed over him. Then he relaxed his features and let out a resigned sigh. “Y/N, I thought you were going to be good for me. But instead, you’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

He leaned forward a little, shifting his hold on you to dig his fingers into the backs of your knees and push them forward to your chest. “Maybe that’s my fault,” he continued. “Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you.” He pressed down a bit harder, causing the muscle in the back of your thigh to protest as it was forced to stretch beyond its typical range. “Well, that ends now.”

You whimpered at the burn in your legs and instinctively reached forward to hold him back. His hands flew from your thighs to your wrists, throwing your arms back down to the mattress and pinning them easily.

“Ah ah ah,” he tsked before flicking his eyes up to your wrists and back to your face. The weight of his chest and positioning of his knees forced you to maintain your backbreaking position.

“Kashi, let go,” you whined.

You felt his gaze scan you before his mouth tugged into a wicked smirk. “Nope.” He pressed your wrists more firmly to the mattress. “I decide where I put my hands on your body. And there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

His grip on your wrists closed in like a vice. You cried out and he pushed his chest further into your thighs, bending you in half and settling your ankles next to your ears. “Ka-kashi!” You didn’t even know you could bend this far. But then his hips resumed their unrelenting thrusts into you, and the most embarrassing, feral sound tore from your throat as he showed you just how many shapes your body could make.

“My pretty little girl needs to be reminded who’s in charge?” he smirked, panting as he threatened to split you in half. “That’s fine. I can remind you who’s in charge.”

For all the movement of his lower half, he kept his chest pressed tight against you. His face hovered over yours as he watched every feeling and emotion run through your eyes; an aesthetic display as he fucked you into submission. Harsh slaps echoed through the room every time he bottomed out.

You felt him reach deeper than ever before, the head of his cock not just brushing but battering against your cervix. “K-Kashi,” you gasped pathetically, “please!” Your arms tensed as you tried and failed to get them out of his grasp.

“No, baby. Good girls get what they ask nicely for. But you, well, all I can give you now is your punishment.”

“Please—” you pleaded, “Kashi!”

“Hmmm is that what you think I want?” he chuckled, his hips bruising your ass with every plunge. “Go ahead and beg, sweetheart. See how much it helps you.”

He was railing you with so much enthusiasm, you could barely even form any words. “Please please Kashi!” you cried out, as though you only knew those two words. “P-Please! I’m sorry!”

“Mmmm I bet you are,” he teased. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me how sorry you are.”

“I’m sorry Kashi! Please, I’ll be good!”

He hummed, a smug look tugging at the corners of his mouth. “See, that’s what you said before.” His eyes closed as he used the muscles in his abdomen to really roll his hips into you. The motion caused his pelvic bone to repeatedly bump against your clit, just enough to tease it without really offering you any relief. If anything, it only frustrated you more.

“I mean it!” you panted. “I swear, I’ll be good!”

He hummed again, that deadly smirk painted across his face as he slowed down a bit. The thumb of his left hand stretched out to allow him to grip both of your wrists with his one wide palm. Even with half of his hold gone, you were completely overpowered. You wriggled to test his strength, but you quickly realized that he wasn’t holding back. Not at all.

“Hmmm, so pretty.” He traced his free hand down your cheek, drawing a barely-there line down the side of your neck, over your clavicle, then teasingly close to your stiff nipple before caressing the curves of your hip and thigh. The entire time, his hips didn’t stop their movements: slower, but no less intense. “Do you mean it? Are you gonna be my good girl again?”

You clutched to his question like a lifeline. “Yes! Yes I promise!”

Danger sparkled in both of his eyes as he leaned his face closer to you. For a moment, you thought he might offer you a kiss; just a tiny respite from his barbaric display. But you quickly realized you couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Well,” he started, “my good girl would take my cock, and thank me for it.”

He resumed his savage pace, using the full weight of his body to pound into you. The air escaped your lungs in an undignified grunt as you tossed your head back. Your nose bumped against your captive arm, and you gently bit down on your own flesh in an attempt to spread the overwhelming sensation throughout your body, instead of your pelvis taking the full brunt.

Kakashi snarled as he took his hand from your hip and landed a stinging smack on the exposed flesh of your ass. “Eyes forward, gorgeous.” Your neck fulfilled his request without any conscious command. When your eyes met his, you saw adoration blending with the pure desire that cloaked his gaze. “Mmmm, that’s better.”

He leaned his face down closer to yours, his eyes demanding your attention. “I’m gonna fuck your tight little pussy until you behave.” His free hand snaked between your torso and your thighs. Kakashi pressed his palm into you, just below your navel. The increased pressure caused his cock to have an even tighter fit inside you, and he shuddered out a groan before he started thrusting into you with even more force.

You couldn’t help but scream; the sound was so dire that you hadn’t even realized you had made it, until the sting prickled your throat. “Ka-AH! KAKASHI!”

“Is it too much, baby?” he cooed, slowing down. “Is my thick cock too much for you?”

You tossed your head back and forth as tears gathered in your eyes. “Ah…I…” Your eyes locked onto Kakashi’s in an attempt to communicate with him the only way you still could. The tomoe of his Sharingan was spinning wildly, working on overdrive.

“Well that’s too bad for you, sweetheart. Because you belong to me, so I get to do whatever I want to you.”

“Wait—”

His hand flew to from your stomach to your throat. “Enough,” he snarled. His eyes locked onto yours as he tightened his grip just enough to make your back arch. “I don’t want to hear it anymore, Y/N. You still haven’t even thanked me. Maybe if you just take your punishment like the good girl I thought you were, I might forgive you.”

You trembled, feeling that familiar tightness building below your navel yet again. It felt impossible that you would be on the brink of yet another orgasm while Kakashi was still going at full force. He had hardly even broken a sweat. And where he had, it was like he had strategically allowed certain areas of his body to perspire, just so he would have that raw, sensual glow that suggested all things erotic.

“Ohhhh I’m gonna fuck your pretty pussy until you remember who you belong to.”

He was saying all the right things, that low rumbling thunder in his voice coaxing even more desperate reactions from you than you thought possible. Kakashi tucked his head into the space between your head and your arm, burrowing into you until his mouth was right by your ear. You could hear every grunt and pant perfectly clearly, timed with those expert thrusts of his cock as he continued to use you.

Or punish you, according to him, but this hardly felt like punishment. In fact, you were sure if he kept this up even one minute more, you were going to reach a third high.

“Ka…Kash…i…” you whimpered, trying to warn him. Your lower lip trembled and your body felt on the verge of breaking. “I…”

“Shhhh,” he murmured into your ear. “Just take your punishment, Y/N.”

“B-But…I…AH!” You whined out a guttural scream as you came, your walls clamping down on him as your body gushed your creamy arousal all over his cock. Your fingers curled in on themselves, nails digging into your own skin as your lips trembled. You tried to take in a deep breath, but he kept his hold tight on your throat as he grunted his own sound of pleasure at the feeling of your muscles spasming around him. He leaned back to see your eyes cross as you gasped.

That look of deep self-satisfaction was back on Kakashi’s face. His eyebrows were raised in a small bid of surprise, but he surely knew better. He knew that even as you were playfully disobedient, you were still his good girl who loved being told what to do.

Kakashi slowed his thrusts as he looked into your eyes with equal parts affection and want. “Even while being punished?” he smirked. “Greedy little thing.”

Your mouth was gaping like a fish out of water, your tongue desperately trying to wet your parched lips. He tilted his head a little as he appraised you and slowed down a bit further. “Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, idly continuing to press into you. “Will you do as I ask now?”

As if you ever had a choice. Your third orgasm left you completely senseless, not a braincell left in your fucked-out body. You only had the energy to weakly nod, but it pleased him to the point where he smiled down at you with an affectionate warmth. “That’s more like it.”

He leaned back down to brush a soft kiss over your mouth. You were so braindead that you didn’t even notice the kiss until he had already nuzzled back into the crook of your neck. He moaned as he resumed his slow thrusts into your tender cunt.

“Mmmm feels so good,” he groaned against your skin. You grasped at the sheets and felt your body squirm without your permission. “Your pussy is mine,” he declared. “It’s all for me. Understand, Y/N?”

You whimpered as your sensitive walls started to protest. “Please,” you gasped, tremors tearing through your body. “P-please…I…”

“What is it, sweetheart?” he taunted you. “Use your words.”

Even through the haze of your third intense orgasm, you could recognize the slight undertone of concern in his order. He had never taken you this roughly, and even with his Sharingan, he was starting to worry he might be missing something and hurting you. He loosened his grip to be sure nothing was keeping you from letting him know if you’d had too much.

But you hadn’t had too much. As far as you were concerned, he could keep pounding into you until your brain completely shut down. But the risk of overstimulation was real, and you definitely didn’t want to overdo it and cause him to be apprehensive about trying something like this again.

“I…a minute…I just…”

The completely empty feeling in your head made it difficult for you to actually use your words like he instructed, but Kakashi was observant and discerning enough to understand.

“Hmmm, feeling sensitive after cumming all over my cock again?” He smirked as he teasingly pumped into you again, causing you to tense and gasp.

“Wait, Kashi—”

“Wait?” His eyebrows furrowed just a little and he tilted his head, the tomoe of his Sharingan recording and analyzing your every tiny twitch. “But I’m not done yet.”

Your hands flew up to paw at his chest. “Kakashi I’m too sensitive I can’t…”

“Hmmm, now that’s not fair Y/N. I make you cum three times, but I don’t get to finish?”

“Please Kashi I can’t handle any more!”

He hummed, sounding disappointed. “And here I thought you were back to being my good girl.”

“Please I want to but I can’t, Kashi!”

He pulled himself completely out. A playful, dangerous look was simmering in his heterochromatic gaze, his secret mouth posed in a sweet smile. “You want to be a good girl for me?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, and his smile grew in response. Then he brought that smirking mouth down to meet your trembling lips, kissing you in a swoon-worthy display of affection. When he finally pulled away, you could only resume gasping for breath. It felt like your heart had failed a few beats, but nothing else mattered when Kakashi looked at you like that.

He propped himself up on his elbows to gain power, then sat up fully on his knees. With a few easy movements, he scooted forward to settle his calves on either side of your head, his erection looming like a threat over your flushed face. “Then open that pretty mouth for me and suck my cock until I cum.”

Despite the overstimulation, warmth flooded between your legs at his command. Your muscles were useless, your lungs overworked, your body decorated with bruises and love-bites from everything he’d so far put you through. But as soon as he suggested it, you couldn’t even imagine a reality where you didn’t fuck him with your mouth. Right the fuck now.

You opened your jaw and flicked your tongue over your dry lips. Kakashi gripped his shaft and pumped a bit lazily, his eyes trained on your mouth as you readied yourself to take him.

A little bit of Kakashi’s domineering shell cracked, showing off the giddy, love-drunk man within. That softness in his eyes would always give him away, revealing how he still couldn’t believe he had you. And it caused the same look to shine from your own eyes, so in love with him.

His right hand cupped behind your head and pulled it up off the mattress at the same time as he lined the head of his cock to the opening of your mouth. You adjusted your mouth so he would just barely squeeze through, the wetness from your sex easing his passage. He groaned deep in his throat at the feeling of your lips sliding closer and closer to the base.

“That’s my girl,” he sighed, dropping his head back. “That’s what I want. Make my cock feel so good.”

You hollowed your cheeks as you licked at the underside of his cock, the texture of your tongue teasing his veins. Your own taste melded with the taste of his cock, and you couldn’t help but groan around him. His hips pulsed toward your mouth as his fingers tangled in your hair and tugged you in to meet him. You whined a little, still not completely as coordinated in your movements as you normally were.

“Faster, baby,” he demanded. You tried to match the movement of his hips, but your jaw slackened a little as you lost focus. “Come on baby, make me cum. I wanna cum down your throat.”

Your eyes locked onto his, and he understood what you needed even before you did. “Mmm poor little thing, you need help?” he cooed. “Here, I’ll help you.”

He sat forward a little, putting more of his weight on his knees and letting your head settle back on the pillow. His dick slid deep into your throat, the head thumping against the muscle of your throat. “Gods, that’s it Y/N.” The new angle put him in complete control, and he didn’t waste it. He immediately set a brutal pace, his fingers still holding you still by the roots of your hair as he fucked your face into the mattress.

“You’re my good girl now, aren’t you? So good, just for me.”

His eyes stayed on your face, and you were sure this served two purposes. For one, it allowed him to be sure he wasn’t being too so rough that he was hurting you—he wanted you to enjoy his actions as much as he did. But also, he felt an egotistical pleasure as he watched your lips struggle to keep up with the relentless pace at which his cock disappeared between them.

After everything he’d already done, it wasn’t long before his breaths started getting choppy and his rhythm was a little less disciplined.

“Ohhhh fuck…” he panted. “Fuck, I’m—” He growled as he came, his eyes rolling back as he let his release loose down your throat.

It was difficult to accommodate him in your flat position, but you swallowed it as quickly as possible, gulping it down just for the next spurt to fill your mouth again. It wasn’t easy, but that adoring look on his face was more than enough motivation.

Finally, he pulled his hips back, giving you space to breathe. You felt as the muscles of your face pulled into a mindless grin, happily gasping for air as you laid flat on your back.

“Y/N. Be honest with me. Are you okay?”

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, your gaze level with his. Sometimes, you just had too many things running through your mind; too much love and admiration for him to put into words. You wanted to tell him all of it. Every embarrassingly honest thought. But you only had the energy for one.

“I love you.”

He pulled you onto his lap and hugged you close, tucking his face against your shoulder. “I love you too.”

Kakashi’s presence was the only thing you needed for the apartment to feel like your home.

► masterlist

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x you smut #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi imagine #kakashi fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 author #rookie98 #rookie98writes #rookie wrote

[lustfulslxt]

Only anon bc imma pussy…but like what if matt and them have been friends for a while and she find him like jerking off to pictures and shit. Or like pics that he took of her like bent over while she wasn’t looking🤭

Caught - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : slight masturbation, sex

—

Matt’s POV

It’s currently Friday night and we have the weekend off, so Y/N is spending the night with us. We usually just hang out, eat, play games, watch movies.

Y/N’s been our friend for a good few years, and we’re together a lot. If I’m being honest, she kind of drives me crazy. She’s so perfect and the simplest things she does, quite literally, make me hard.

“Can I pick the movie?” Chris asks, jumping over the couch, landing right next to me.

I shrug, “I don’t really care.”

Nick and Y/N both round the corner, and my eyes are immediately drawn to her. She’s wearing a little baby tee and some booty shorts. It’s not weird for her to be like that, we’ve all been best friends forever now. I’ve just been having new urges for a couple of months.

The two sit on the couch opposite of me and Chris. It’s hard to pull my eyes away from her, but I have to when Chris holds his hand out to me.

“What?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows.

“The remote. Do you not listen?” He retorts.

I only roll my eyes and hand him the remote from beside me. Before my gaze can return to Y/N, I quickly force myself to stare at the blank TV. I don’t know what it is, she’s just got me in some trance lately. Taking a deep breath to push my thoughts away, I roll my neck and shuffle in my seat.

“You good, Matty?” I hear her ask me, causing my head to snap in her direction.

“W-what? Why? I’m fine.” I ramble, before closing my eyes in frustration.

“You seem tense, kid.” Nick calls out.

I just ignore him, a small groan leaving my mouth. Why am I like this? What is this sick shit? I can’t get the thought of bending her over, while she takes all of me, out of my head.

With another heavy breath, I remove my hoodie as I’m beginning to get hot, and place it next to me. I can’t help but adjust myself in my seat again, feeling hot and bothered.

Of course, seeing as I have the worst self control, my eyes slowly trail back over to Y/N. She sat against the arm of the couch, one of her legs perched up, her foot flat with her knee against her chest, her other leg lying beneath that one. The position she’s in shows off her juicy thighs and encircles her core that’s covered by the thin fabric of her shorts. I can feel myself growing harder, wanting nothing more than to drag her back to my room and rail her senseless. Quickly, I grab my hoodie and place it on my lap to cover my now obvious erection.

“Dude!” Chris whisper shouts at me, “What the fuck is going on with you?”

My head shoots over to him in a panic, eyes frantic, wondering if he knows what’s going through my head right now. I can’t even form words, my breath stuck in my throat, so I just shrug and wave him off. My attention is pulled from him when I see Y/N stand up and head into the kitchen. Without thinking at all, I’m on my feet and following her.

When I round the corner, my footsteps come to a halt. There she was, bent over in the fridge. I suck in a breath, gasping at the sight in front of me. Her shorts were riding up her ass, her cheeks being completely visible, her shorts pressed tightly against her pussy. I felt like I wasn’t in control of myself as I pulled my phone out, bringing up my camera and snapping a picture of her. Just as I bring my phone back down, she turns around and locks eyes with me, my face immediately flushing.

“Hey.” She speaks, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”

I nod, gulping, “Can you toss me a water?”

She does so, a smile gracing her face in the process. I give her a small thanks and head back to my room, rather than the living room with the rest of them. I needed space to think without having her consume everything around me.

Once I shut myself in my room, I spread out on my bed, closing my eyes and sighing, completely overwhelmed with my feelings.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been an hour or so since the movie ended, everyone else was in their rooms, presumably going to sleep. I’ve just been scrolling through my phone, not really paying attention to anything on my screen as my mind was occupied elsewhere.

I can’t stop thinking about Matt; he seemed off tonight. I want to make sure he is okay, but so far, he’s only been lying and saying he’s fine. I know him better than that, I know he’s bothered by something, I just don’t know what.

Part of me wants to get up and go to his room, forcing him to talk to me. Another part is telling me to wait until he’s ready. Surely, it’s not too serious. As if the universe is telling me to go to his room, the ‘low battery’ notification pops up on my screen. My charger is in his room.

With a small huff, I remove my blanket from me and stand up from the couch, immediately heading towards his room. I figured he was probably sleeping like Nick and Chris, so I just quietly walk in. However, I couldn’t have been more wrong as he was definitely not sleeping.

His back was turned towards me, but I could see his right arm moving up and down as his head was slightly tilted back. It didn’t take a genius to realize what he was doing, so I just step backwards in an attempt to leave. As I’m about to turn out the door, his bright phone screen catches my eye. You would think he’s watching porn or something, but he’s staring at a picture. More so a picture of me. A picture of me from not even two hours ago.

“Matt!” I whisper shout, bewildered at the fact that he was jerking off to a picture that he sneakily took of me.

He jumps, flinching in embarrassment as he locked his phone and covered himself up. It took him a minute before he finally turned around to come face to face with me, his cheeks bright red.

“What are you doing in here?” He asks, his voice frantic as his eyes dart all around.

“I came to get my charger. What are you doing in here?” I reply, emphasizing my question. When he doesn’t answer, I continue, “I saw you, Matt.”

His mouth begins to open and shut, unsure of what to say. He closes his eyes and inhales, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You took a picture of me.” I state, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious by now.

He nods, licking his lips nervously. I could see that he was anxiously anticipating my reaction, but I didn’t even know what to do. What do you do when you’re turned on by your best friend touching himself to a picture he took of you?

I walk over to the bed and sit next to him, “Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

He avoids eye contact with me and shakes his head from left to right, indicating he’s done it before. He opens his phone up, and immediately scrolls to the next picture and, once again, it’s of me. I was wearing a bralette and a mini skirt that barely covered my ass. One of my legs was perched up on the table as I leaned forward to put on my shoe. My asscheeks were out and you could clearly see my lace underwear beneath the skirt.

“Damn, I look good.” I smirk, pleased with the photo.

“Yeah, you do.” He chuckles, immediately stopping and looking back at my face, trying to read my emotions.

“So, you’re fantasizing about me?” I question.

He bashfully nods, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why didn’t you just come to me?”

He shrugs, “And say what? Hey Y/N, so like, I kind of want to fuck the shit out of you.”

I blush, as if it isn’t obvious by the fact that he was jerking off to me, and mimic his shrug. “What if I wanted you to fuck the shit out of me?”

His eyes widen, thrown back by my statement. After taking a moment to recover, he scoots closer to me and softly grabs my face with one of his hands, bringing me closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, looking into my eyes for confirmation.

Instead of responding with words, I close the gap between us and press my lips onto him. The kiss is short and sweet, more so testing the waters. It only takes a second before we meet again, our lips lapping one another’s perfectly. He placed his free hand on my back, pulling me impossibly closer as my hands make their way to his hair. A soft groan erupts from his throat as I give his hair a nice tug, the sound of his sultry voice going straight to my core.

Gaining a new found confidence, Matt swiftly pulls me onto his lip and shoves his tongue in my mouth. He’s licking and sucking everything, swapping saliva. I can feel his dick bulging between my legs, fully rock hard. His hands meet my hips, grinding me against him, eliciting a moan from my lips.

“I want you so bad.” He groans into my ear as his lips work on my neck.

“Then take me.” I say, allowing him more access with a tilt of my head.

Like a flip switched, Matt quickly removes my shirt, leaving me topless in his lap. He groans at the sight of my bare chest, his hands bringing both of my boobs into his palms, squeezing them tenderly. He pinches both of my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, kneading them. Soft whimpers left my lips as he did so, his wet mouth also leaving kisses all over my neck.

My hands grab the hem of his shirt and I pull it over his head, connecting our lips once more after. His arm wraps around my back and he turns, laying me flat on his bed, taking position knelt above me, his mouth never leaving mine. His fingers hook in the waistband of my shorts, lingering as if waiting for approval, so I pull away and give him a nod when we make eye contact.

Within seconds, the rest of my clothes are on the floor and I lay bare in front of him. He’s on his knees, in between my legs, and his eyes are boring into me, his pupils blown out with lust. I can see his dick protruding from his boxers, begging to be released from its restrictions, eager for any kind of stimulation. He swiftly removes the piece of clothing, before laying down right beside me.

He pulls me into him, one of his hands on my face, the other on my bare ass. He slams his lips into mine, his tongue instantly swiping against my bottom lip, asking for entrance, to which I gave him. Our tongues battled for dominance, Matt shoving his in my mouth, exploring as much as he can while our teeth clash together. With every touch, I feel my arousal pooling between my legs, drenching my folds. Matt squeezes my ass, kneading it before his fingers trail closer to my opening. He reaches down to my pussy and swipes his fingers between my folds, emitting a moan from me.

“Mmm. You’re so wet for me.” He groans into my lips.

Without another word, he slides two fingers through my slit, immediately entering my hole. He swallows every moan that comes from my mouth as he kisses me, hard. His fingers continue pumping in and out, getting me ready to take him. My hand envelops his throbbing dick, squeezing as I pumped my hand, causing him to shudder and buck his hips.

“I want to be inside of you.” He groans, still bucking his hips.

“Please. I need you so bad, daddy.” I moan out as his fingers thrust back into me.

He swiftly removes his hand, shoving his fingers in my mouth as he rolls me over so that my back is against his chest. I suck on his fingers, cleansing them of my juices. He takes his hand from my mouth and wraps it around my throat at the same time he sinks himself into me. I can’t help them lewd moans that erupt from me. His hand moves from my throat to my hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling my head back, making me arch my back. His opposite hand grabs my leg and lifts it up to the side, giving himself better access as his thrusts pick up.

“Oh fuck.” I moan, my face scrunching up in pleasure.

He picks up the pace, railing in and out of me. He leans forward, his mouth meeting the side of my neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin. I can hear his low moans right in my ear and it was turning me on so much more.

“Shit. Feels s-so good, Matt.” I gasp, reveling in the way he’s making me feel.

His thrusts turn more aggressive, my legs now shaking and my breath catching in my throat. His grip on my hair tightens, pulling my head back even more. His eyes meet mine and he’s got a devilish smirk on his face.

“Nah, baby. What’s my name?”

With the way he’s pounding into me, I can’t even think straight. His hand reaches under my leg, using his forearm to keep it up, his fingers meeting my clit, and rubbing in fast, tight circles.

“What’s my name?” He repeats, his tone more demanding and aggressive.

“Daddy! Fu - fuck, daddy! Nghh.” I whine out, my body convulsing.

“Such a good girl. Cum for daddy, so I can fill you up.” He groans, keeping the exact same rhythm with his hand and hips.

My mind is hazy and I can’t hear anything but the sound of my rapid heartbeat as I let go. I shake and tremble, unable to keep my composure as pornographic moans leave my mouth. A moment later, I feel his hot cum shoot into me, loud moans escaping from him. He continues fucking into me, letting us ride out our highs.

He pulls out and drops my legs, immediately rubbing my hip and thigh, as if sensing the incoming charlie horse. After a minute, he flips me over to face him, staring into my eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just gazing at me, intensely. Suddenly a grin pulls to his lips and they’re meeting mine in a sweet and tender kiss.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” He asks, brushing the sweaty hair out of my face. “Then, maybe spend the night in here with me?”

“Sounds good.” I grin back, pulling him in for another kiss.

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a/n : mixed feelings ab this, sorry if it’s not what you had in mind! hope you enjoy:) send in reqs 🫶🏼

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo #imagine #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x me #matthew sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matty #sturniolo fanfic #smut #request #one shot