#cause it sounds like 'okay' in Russian

[kaleldobrev]

From Russia With Love

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: You’re the first person Ben goes to see after escaping from Russia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing (5x), Fluff

Authors Note: The sequel to Memories Are All I Have | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Forty years. Forty Goddamn fucking years without you. Forty years of not being able to kiss you or hold you in his arms. Forty years without being able to tell you how much he loved you; or hear you saying it in return.

But there was a part of him that started to wonder if you had moved on from him because of how long it has been. There was a part of him that wouldn't have blamed you if you did, but he dreaded the thought of you being with anyone but him. You were the only person he ever dreamt of being with, settling down with. You were the first person to ever tell him, "I love you," and it wasn't just empty words — you had actually meant it.

Despite it being almost forty years without you, he still loved you just as much as he did the last time he had saw you back in 1984.

As he walked along the Manhattan streets, memories of the two of you walking along these very streets started to flood him. He could hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your laughter. He could feel the softness of your hands in his calloused ones. He could hear you faintly saying "I love you" to him in his ear.

But that very brief memory he had of you was quickly started to fade away, as he heard music playing — a song that was all too familiar to him and not in a good way. It was a Russian pop song that the scientists would often play when they would experiment on him. When they would pierce his skin with various knives and force feed him chemical mixtures.

He dropped his bag that he had slung over his shoulders onto the sidewalk; and he could faintly hear someone asking him if he was okay, but their words sounded so muffled like he was under water. Hunched over, everything went pitch black.

19 dead and 12 injured — read the news banner in big, bold, black letters across the bottom of the screen. "Holy shit," you mumbled to yourself, watching the news footage in absolute horror. One second the building in front of you was standing tall and proud; the next second, the sounds of glass shattering and floors collapsing in on itself. Scorch marks could be seen distinctly.

As you watched the news footage, a part of you wondered what Supe could have caused that immense amount of damage. But for the life of you, there was no Supe that you could think of. Homelander briefly entered your brain, but his beams wouldn't be able to cause that kind of damage. Yes, Homelander was powerful, but there was no way he would be able to do something like that, not unless Vought somehow found a way to give him more power than he already had.

"We were able to get the CCTV Footage of who could have caused this terrible tragedy. Unfortunately, due to the angle of the camera, the face could not be seen. But if you think you may know the terrorist reasonable, please contact Vought immediately," the news anchor stated; Vought's number flashing across the screen quickly.

As you watched the footage, it was grainy, black and white, and hard to tell who the terrorist could have been. But from what you could see, it just looked like some guy with an unkempt beard wearing a tracksuit that you hadn't seen since about the 1980s.

The man was standing there holding some kind of bag, and all of sudden the bag just dropped to his feet and he hunched over, kind of like he was having some kind of stomach pain, and a large beam of light just exploded from his body. "Holy shit..." you mumbled.

When Ben arrived at his — your apartment — he couldn't help but have a small sense of nervousness, like there was some kind of knot in the pit of his stomach. This kind of knot was something that he always experienced whenever he was about to get tortured by the Russians, as he never knew what kind of cruel experiments they were going to do on him.

He eyed the door and sighed, hoping that you were still living here, as this was the last known address that he had for you. It was the only place that he had hoped that you would be, as this was the only place he had pictured starting and having a family with you. It was a cozy penthouse about a few blocks away from Vought Tower; and it was a place that you and him had bought together as a home away from home away from Payback.

With a deep sigh, he knocked on the door, praying quietly to himself that you would be the one to answer the door and not someone else.

As you were in the kitchen making yourself some coffee, you heard a knock at your apartment door and raised a brow as you weren't expecting anyone or anything today; not even a package.

As the coffee started pouring into the mug, you started making your way to the front door, and yet there was another knock; but this time, the knock was quicker, almost impatient sounding. You rolled your eyes, and let out a small groan. "Christ on a Cross," you mumbled quietly to yourself. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" You called out, hoping that the impatient knocking would cease.

Ben heard the pads of your bare feet walking toward the apartment door, and he could hear you slightly groaning on the other side of the door, cursing every so often. But one of the phrases you said had caught him slightly by surprise. "Christ on a Cross," he heard you mumble; and a smirk tugged the corners of his lips.

He heard the chain come off the door, and within seconds the door was open before him, and there you were looking exactly the same way you had the last time he had seen you forty years ago. "Fuck, you haven't aged a day Sugar," he said, his voice sounding more gruff than he had expected it to sound.

"Fuck, you haven't aged a day Sugar," a man that strongly resembled and sounded exactly like Ben said before you. But there was no possible way that this could of been him, as you were told by not only Payback, but by Vought and Legend that he had been killed by the Russians, and that his body was taken behind the Iron Curtain. But he had just called you Sugar; and Sugar was a nickname that Ben and Ben alone had called you, and tended to only call you when it was just the two of you alone together.

But the way he was looking at you was the exact same way Ben had always looked at you. It was the look of pure adoration and joy; the look of 'you are the most gorgeous person in the world to me.' And those eyes...those distinctive hazel-green eyes that only Ben had had were staring directly at you.

You were unsure if you were seeing a ghost or having one of your hallucinations, but you reached out your hand toward him and gently placed your hand on his cheek, feeling the caveman like beard underneath your palm. When your hand made contact with his cheek, he almost melted into your touch, and his free hand made contact with the one that was on his cheek; almost checking to see if you were real too.

When your hand touched his cheek, he had to hold back all of the feelings that he had slowly building up over the course of four decades without you; he had envisioned this reunion for so long. "Ben..." your voice was low, soft, almost slightly hesitant as if you were trying to make sure that it was actually him before you. "It's...it's really you isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's really me," he responded almost as low as your voice was.

Your hand released from his cheek, and you stared at him with such longing in your eyes; almost as if you were trying to hold back tears. Without anymore hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, using that super strength of yours (practically squeezing him, and knocking the air slightly out of him), as your face buried a bit into his chest.

In that instant, Ben dropped the bag that was slung over his shoulder at this feet and wrapped his arms around you; giving you a similar type of embrace that you were currently giving him and rested his chin on the top of your head. "I've missed you so much," you told him; your face nuzzling even more into his chest.

He smiled into your hair and kissed the top of your head; an action that he didn't realize how much he missed doing until now. "I missed you too," he said. And for the first time in his life, he heard his voice breaking.

Tag List: @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @zombie-freak @waywardlatina @crystal555 @missscarlettangel @livingordeadwhoknows @79winchester @savagemickey03 @grx-deanslovr @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @the-achievementhunter If you’d like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #Ben x you #Ben x reader #female reader #reader insert

[ohsalome]

You've been inactive for a while. I hope you're okay

Hi, I hope I didn't cause too much worry with my inactivity. I am alive, but I don't think I'll be posting on tumblr anymore.

This blog began with the intention of making the ukrainian perspective on war in Ukraine visible for the foreign audience, and with most of the interaction coming from other Ukrainians, I feel like I'm in an echo chamber.

Not to dissmiss the foreigners who still care - rest assured, your support is seen, appreciated and much needed.

But the majority of people on this website are actively hostile, condescending and dissmissive towards Ukrainians, and my time is better spent elsewhere than arguing with privileged teenagers who think the peak tragedy of the war in Ukraine is that "russian culture is being destroyed" (reality check: russian artists are thriving in Europe on foreign grants, while ukrainian artists and art are being destroyed every day, together with everything we have).

If anyone still cares, please donate to any trustworthy initiative (if you don't know any, United24, BackAndAlive, Serhiy Prytula Foundation and Hospitaliers are always sound choices). The word "desperate" fails to describe the atmosphere right now. We feel like we are left to die.

#ukraine #russia #war in ukraine #russian invasion of ukraine #russo ukrainian war #politics

[lovebugism]

blurbcember request! : missing their loved ones when everyone else spends time with theirs w either Steve or Eddie x reader <3

thank u for requesting angel!! — you spend the holidays with the munsons after losing everything at the battle of starcourt (established relationship, hurt/comfort, tw for mentions of grief and panic attacks, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

It hits you out of nowhere. The weight of unimaginable grief.

You’re on Eddie’s couch one moment, laughing into the hot cocoa he made you — and the next, it’s 1985 and you’re at Starcourt all over again. 

You can smell the ash as the mall burns to the ground and feel the evening mist soak your skin until your clothes stick to you. Your throat burns with the ghost of the scream you let out when the soldiers told you your dad died. 

You didn’t react. Not at first. You figured it must’ve been a mistake. That’s what you told them — you’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong. You repeated those words until they turned to sobs. 

Steve took you in his arms before you fell to the ground. Then you screamed. You don’t think you stopped screaming until your body shut down from the exhaustion.

You feel like that all over again. Five months later and you haven’t stopped reliving it.

Eddie knows. He can see all of it. You’re as bright as sunshine one second, then as grey as rain the next. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened to you — what really happened to your father or why you were at Starcourt in the first place — but he can tell it did a number on you.

He tries hopelessly to make it better. “You alright?” he mutters to you. His arm around your shoulder tightens to keep you from straying any further. His ringed fingers squeeze gently at your arm, and you remember where you are. 

You blink until the haze fades and nod on instinct. It’s muscle memory now. What could he do if you were honest? you wonder to yourself. What would it change?

“Is it the hot cocoa?” he asks, even though he knows that’s not really the problem. He wants to bring the light back to your eyes, maybe, or just get you to talk at all. “I made it with water this time instead of milk. Do you want me to—”

“No. It’s okay,” you interject quickly, voice meek and taut.

“Okay…” Eddie wavers and tries to settle back onto the couch. It’s hard to because he’s so tense now. He’s rigid with the knowledge that something’s wrong — with the heartache of not knowing how to help you.

You curse yourself when the tears come on.

They burn the very backs of your eyes, stinging like falling ash from burning flames. You can smell the smoking brick and the blood and the cologne of the Russian soldier that nearly killed you. You’re on Eddie’s couch, but you’re back there at the same time. 

You know you shouldn’t be crying, but you don’t know how to make yourself stop.

You blink hopelessly at the ceiling and pray that your blurry vision will clear before the tears spill over. Then you start to sniffle, and your emotion becomes rather obvious. You don’t want to cry. Not in front of everyone. Not in front of Eddie.

“Can I— uh— can I use your bathroom?” you stammer, trying to sound halfway normal even though the words come out coated with wet emotion. You’re looking ahead of you instead of over at Eddie — ‘cause you know he’d see right through you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he answers, a little confused because you stopped having to ask a long time ago. 

He wants to ask you what’s wrong, but you’re gone before he can. His cold hands curl around his warming cocoa, fidgeting because they don’t know how to do anything but hold you.

You sit on the lid of the toilet seat and run the faucet while you cry. You bury your face in your palms, rocking back and forth in a feeble attempt to comfort yourself because you’re still learning how to do that on your own.

You’re so used to calling your dad the second something goes wrong. You don’t know who you’re supposed to lean on now. Eddie, maybe — but who are you to put that weight on him? He’d carry it no problem, but the burden shouldn’t be his. 

You just wish you knew where to put it, all this grief you have. 

For now, you bury it with the tears you pour into your palms. When you manage to coax yourself to stop crying and get your panicked breathing back to normal — in for 4 counts, hold for 7, out for 8 — you flush and wash your hands like you were doing anything but breaking down in Eddie’s bathroom.

You can’t get anything by him, though. Literally. ‘Cause you nearly run into him when you leave.

He’s idling awkwardly outside the door, looking almost as surprised to see you as you are to see him. Chocolate eyes wide, pink mouth softly agape, bushy brows raised beneath his curly bangs. “Shit— Sorry—” he stammers.

You sniffle and hope you don’t look like you’ve been crying too hard. “What are you— What are you doing?” you ask, voice weighed down with leftover emotion.

“Nothing. You just— you looked a little upset, and I wanted to check on you,” he shrugs, trying to play it cool. Then he gets awkward and cowers. “And I was gonna knock, but… then I got… nervous.”

You’d fake a laugh if you thought it wouldn’t take all the strength you have left. Instead, you shrug and pretend like everything’s still normal. Pretending is all you have now, anyway.

“I’m fine.”

He knows you’re lying. You always look down at your feet before you lie. Your eyes are swollen and glassy, too. You’re obviously everything but fine, but he doesn’t want to press the issue too much. He doesn’t want to make the unknown any worse.

So, in lieu of a thousand things he could say, he asks you — “Wanna smoke?”

You don’t smoke. He just doesn’t know how else to get you alone like he wants. 

You nod because you know he’s trying. 

His racing heart settles a little.

You end up on the edge of his childhood bed while he finishes off a joint. The scent is a comforting one — slightly skunky, but mostly of Eddie’s sweet cologne. He lies on his back while you sit above him, knees curled behind you with an arm beside you to prop up your weight. 

His chestnut curls are sprawled out along the plain grey sheets. His eyelids are heavy, gaze as dark as melted chocolate. His lips are rosy, and so are his cheeks after a couple hits. He looks a little like a Renaissance painting.

Eddie, meanwhile, is still stewing in his worry of you. He’s happy to sit in silence, though. Mostly because he knows you don’t mind it, either.

“How do you always know?” you blurt before you mean to.

He grows suddenly alert at your question. “Know what?”

You shrink inside yourself because you hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You were so deep in your thoughts you were practically drowning in them — swimming in oceans of grief and love and everything in between. 

You’re lucky you found Eddie when you did. Luckier ‘cause he always knows how to handle the mystically delicate being you are. You don’t know how he does it.

You stammer for an answer. “When I’m… I didn’t know… When I’m—”

“Sad?” Eddie finishes for you.

Both of you know it’s deeper than that, but you nod anyway. “Yeah…”

He shrugs lazily. “I don’t know… I just have a sense for it, I guess.”

“Like Spiderman?” you tease softly, a quiet smile hinting at the corners of your lips. Your nails scratch gently at his scalp. He leans into your touch like a cat.

Eddie grins wider, happy to see you happy. “Exactly like Spiderman.”

“Wow… I can’t believe my boyfriend has superpowers.”

“Well, you better believe it, baby. ‘Cause I know every-thing that’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

Your hand stills and your eyes go wide. You don’t want Eddie in your head. It’s too messy in there. How will he still love you if he knows all the darkest parts of you?

“That’s a scary thought,” you say, trying your best to laugh it off. 

“Doesn’t have to be,” he assures in a voice so soft you could cry. His palm is warm as it rises to smooth across your jaw, ringed fingers calloused and gentle on your cheek. “It’s not easy for you to tell me what’s going on a lot of the time, right? So I gotta use my super cool mind-reading powers to take care of my girl, you know?”

You love him so much you could cry. You don’t want to cry, though. You’re far too happy for that. 

You don’t realize how big you’re smiling until Eddie smiles back at you. 

“See?” he singsongs to you with a pink grin on his lips. “Not so scary, huh?”

“You make everything not so scary,” you insist quietly, your smile even quieter. “Like a teddy bear.”

Eddie beams at your words. If he can make all the bad things he can’t see not so bad for you, he’ll wear the title of Teddy Bear with pride.

His arms curl around you in a flash, dragging you down to the mattress so he can wrap you in a smothering hug. You squeal a laugh into his shoulder. You forget to be sad.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

[mackjlee9]

Task Force 141 x Male!Reader x Vladimir Makarov [Angst&Smut] |commission|

Warning; ghost x male reader, bad use of Russian sorry, violence, mentions of manipulation, short smut scene... Uh I might be forgetting something.

Masterlist. Commissions Rules.

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2022)

Every day was the same as it always was. He couldn't remember a day when waking up wasn't painful, surrounded by people screaming and groaning in pain while there was some cheering in the background.

He couldn't help but cringe at the sound of bones breaking, followed by the loudest cheering yet, letting everyone know there has been a "winner". (M/n) doesn't know how many days, weeks, months, or even years have passed since the first time he was taken to this place, but nothing had changed since his first day. He had been close to death more times than he could even remember.

Everything he knew about the place he was in is that its some kind of prison, and they were being kept in their cells or " rooms" until the next fight, the so-called; death arena. And well, yeah, it's exactly what you think it is.

Each passing day was a blur, mostly because he would be resting for days after being called to another fight, hating having to end someone's life just to entertain others. But one day, that fateful day, his life changed. For better or for worse, he couldn't tell, but it did.

A man named Makarov told a tale of how he had heard of this place, and he came by to maybe... buy one of their fighters, preferably, the strongest one.

That's how (M/n) found himself being woken up with freezing water was thrown on his face, making him jolt awake as he choked, having a hard time breathing.

"Get up, scum, you're leaving," he was roughly pushed out of his thin mattress, stumbling his way out of his cell and falling on his knees in front of an unknown male. He looked up and made eye contact with cold blue eyes, his (e/c) eyes observing every facial feature of the man, watching him smirking while breaking eye contact.

"I'll be going then," (M/n) watched the man reach his hand down to grab onto the chain attached to the collar he was wearing, "Let's go then, igrushka," blinking a few times, (M/n) got back up on his trembling legs and followed the men that kept tugging on his chain.

The moment the stepped outside he closed his eyes from the stinging pain caused by the natural light. He stood still, groaning as he covered his eyes, but soon, he was forced to keep walking.

"He looks like shit, Makarov," the mocking laugh of another man startled him, squinting and peeking through his fingers. Apparently, the man taking him was named Makarov... What a nice name...

And that was the beginning of it all.

At first, because of the lack of mental and emotional support (M/n) found himself clinging to Makarov as if his life depended on it, following after him like a lost puppy, developing some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. (M/n) felt in love with Makarov.

Or thought he did.

And Makarov took advantage of that, using him as if he was nothing but a toy for his pleasure, for his enjoyment, hearing (M/n) mumbling quietly 'I love you's at him, words Makarov could only chuckle at. Despite never hearing it back, the movement of Makarov's hips quickened, and (M/n) could only hold onto the male's hips as he thrusts his hips up, whining at the tight feeling around his cock, and that was all the reassurance he needed.

///////

(M/n) lived like that for years, following Makarov around, obediently listening to his orders, feeling like he lost bits and pieces of his soul whenever he was sent out to kill more people, constantly needing his love and reassurance to be able to continue on, but he was always met with being called a bother, or being told to move 'cause he was in the way, that he was a nuisance.

He was okay with that, telling himself that Makarov was just having a bad day, and he just had to unwind. (M/n) would let him, he will always let Makarov do anything he pleased.

But one night, (M/n) couldn't sleep. He kept turning around on his bed, it was one of those nights where the memories flashed in his mind, and it only got worse with the stress and self-doubt he felt during the day.

He took a deep breath and got up from the bed, slowly opening the door to his room, and walked around the halls of the facility he had memorized like the back of his hand for a short while, trying to clear his mind, dragging his bare feet on the cold ground.

His mind wandered around, observing the small details on the walls, noticing new scratches here and there, another piece of it peeling off, counting every step he took when he overhead voices nearby. (M/n) slowed his breathing, taking careful steps and pressing himself against the wall, peeking through one of the hall windows. Makarov was there, alongside Viktor, Kiril, and Lev.

"That igrushka has been getting on my nerves recently..." (M/n) held his breath for a moment, feeling his chest hurting at Makarov's words, "I'm gonna get rid of him, for good. He's useless now, and he's easily disposable."

The sound of him cocking his pistol made him release a gasp, and he saw how everyone turned toward the window, but (M/n) had turned around and was running toward the only exit that was open at this time of night. He could hear footsteps behind him, Makarov's voice calling him. Igrushka. Igrushka!

A single ricocheted by his head, making him halt for a moment, but he had to keep going, or he was gonna be a dead man soon. He didn't have much to live for anyway but... He didn't wanna die like this.

//////

His breath was ragged, his lungs painfully pressing against his ribs with every breath he took, his body trembling from the cold touch of the snowflakes landing on his exposed skin.

He had wandered around for long enough to see the sun rising on the horizon, his feet and hands numb, hugging himself to try and feel somehow heated, of course, it was a futile attempt. (M/n) walked for a few more minutes, wandering as far away as he could, but eventually, his body gave out, and passed out.

Being honest with himself, that's the last thing he's able to remember of that day, he's not sure what happened to him afterward, he only knows that he had woken up at a military medical base a few days later.

A man wearing a bucket hat approached him when he realized he was awake.

"Hey, nice to see you awake," (M/n) looked at him for a moment before blinking a few times while looking back down at his hands, "So..." The men sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath, "You got a name?"

Releasing a shaky breath, he nodded slowly, "I'm... (M/n)..." He added shortly, his voice meek and quiet, feeling his body tense and stiff with every small moment.

"Well, I'm John, John Price."

Unfortunately for Price, he hadn't been able to get anything else out of (M/n), except for the small 'no, sir' when he asked him if he had a place to stay. Price didn't know what the poor guy had gone through, but he was able to tell it wasn't nice by all the scars and fresh wounds on his body.

"Tell you what," Price stands up and beckons (M/n) to come with him, "You can stay with me and my team, if you don't mind," for a moment, (M/n) was skeptical, thinking this was gonna be the same situation it was with Makarov, but there was something in Price's eyes that made him trust him, not sure why, but he nodded at him and took the man's hand, accepting his help to stand up.

//////

Reaching their base was a long, silent, and tense car ride, (M/n) stared out the window the whole time, too out of himself to be able to speak normally for the time being, but eventually, he was brought back from within his mind to get out of the military jeep and following Price silently, ignoring curious looks he got because of his appearance, or just 'cause he was a new face around, he didn't know and he didn't care. Even so, his eyes looked around for a short while, realizing this place was the same as where he was with Makarov, everything seemed so similar yet so different from that place.

It was odd, as if he was just realizing that Makarov was the bad guy in all of this.

"And this is the 141 team," Price's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and everyone in the room looked at him making him flinch and lower his head, "Guys, this is (M/n), and... He's gonna stay here for a while."

Getting to know everyone around him proved to be difficult, but Soap and Gaz did their best to make him feel welcome. He felt at home, he felt safe. And he couldn't be more than grateful to Price for the chance of living a better life. (M/n) never said anything about his past, about the fights in that dead arena, about his relationship with Makarov, he never uttered a word about it, just briefly mentioning that he had a rough life ever since he was a kid.

Everyone was nice to him and treated him like one of them, which is exactly why he asked Price, if there was any way he could join the Task Force 141 team, and be with them because they were all he had.

It almost seemed like it was meant to be, like he was meant to be there his whole life. He had been discovering new sides and aspects of his personality, there was this bitter taste in the back of his mouth whenever he remembered how submissive he used to be, but now?

Now he had Lieutenant Riley cumming undone under him, almost unable to keep his moans and cries of pleasure quiet.

(M/n) kept a tight grip on Simon's hips, his thrusts deep and rough, barely pulling out as he watched closely every reaction on his face, observing his body shivering and squirming, trying to keep his noises down, but it was so hard when he felt like his guts were being rearranged, his eyes rolling back with every hit on his prostate.

"You like that, hm?" (M/n) whispered, reaching a hand up to wrap it around Simon's neck, not applying pressure, just keeping it there. The blond looked at him through wet eyelashes, nodding as many times as he could, whining while lifting his hips off the bed.

(M/n) chuckled and leaned down, pressing their lips together, as he stopped his movements, enjoying the desperate whines and pleas coming out of Simon's mouth.

"Don't stop, please- don't stop~ I'm gonna cum," licking his lips, (M/n) leaned back, determined on making Simon cum so many times he begs him to stop because it's too much for his sensitive cock, "(M/n)..."

His voice cut off as his mouth opened wide in a silent moan, his hips lifted and his back arching off the bed, his hands gripping the bedsheets, mumbling curses over and over, muttering how close he was to cumming.

But (M/n) didn't stop once Simon's cum stained his abdomen, his thrust only got faster and rougher, "Cum again for me, baby, come on I know you got it in ya'."

Simon whimpered as he shook his head no, his hands gripping (M/n)'s wrists, "No no no, please... I-I can't-!" He mumbled, crying at how sensitive his body felt, "Can't... Cum an-anymore, please!"

Groaning, (M/n) wrapped his hand around Simon's cock, hearing his cries getting louder as his body trembled under his grip, and with a few strokes of his hand, his flushed red cock was twitching as he came again, making a mess of himself.

Neither of them know how long they kept going, but they were certainly left out of breath and exhausted after that, cuddling and holding onto each other tightly.

To be honest, (M/n) never thought- well, he did, it was more like he never believed he would be able to live a happy life after all that had happened to him before now, but he wanted to enjoy, even when, a few hours later when the sun had begun rising, something was nagging him in the back of his mind, telling him that this happiness not only, wasn't gonna last forever, but it was gonna be shorter than be expected.

//////

This mission was important, extremely so.

Price briefed them, explaining the situation to them the best he could before showing them the picture of the men they had to stop and capture. (M/n) knew what he was getting into when his eyes hardened, looking at Makarov's features with hatred and disgust. He used to think that man had saved him... But he only took him from a shithole to another shithole, effectively leaving him more scarred than he already was.

He simply sighed and clenched his fists, Ghost noticed this and turned to look at (M/n), he seemed to be disturbed by something, taking note of how hard he was glaring at the picture on the table, placed atop the marked map where tactics had been carefully mapped. He wanted to ask, but he figured (M/n), like every other person in the room, had a personal vendetta against Makarov.

Immediately as the briefing was over, they were rushed to the army jeeps, spending the ride in silence or sleeping, but Ghost couldn't stop looking at (M/n), who had avoided any kind of physical contact for longer than need, the frown in his brow seemed to deepen with every passing minute, and he was worried, maybe... This was more personal than he had guessed.

Whilst the mission was rather "easy" capturing Makarov himself wasn't, the man was so used to escaping over and over again that he had many routes to go underground and just disappear. But (M/n) knows this place, it may not be Makarov's main hideout, but he has been here a couple of times, and he's well aware of all the places the Russian could go and knew exactly which one he was going to pick, it's his favourite go-to after all.

"Makarov!" (M/n)'s voice echoed off the tunnels as he followed the men, watching with rage eyes as he slowly came to a stop, chuckling as he turned around to face him.

Holding his pistol up and steady, (M/n) knew he had a clean shot to bring the man down, forever, but that wasn't their mission. He had to capture Makarov, alive. Maybe a few broken bones too.

"So you survived... All this time I thought my little plaything had died, but look at you..." Makarov took a step forward, his hand reaching behind him and (M/n) got ready to shoot him if he had to, but the Russian just tossed his pistol aside, getting rid of his assault rifle, gripping the handle of his knife, "Let's do this like real men, kid."

Taking a step to the right, (M/n) managed to dodge Makarov's attack, but he quickly realized that he needed both his hands to be able to fight him so, with gritted teeth, he threw his pistol and took his combat knife, taking a firm stance in front of Makarov, watching the cheeky smirk on his face... It made his blood boil.

This fight dragged on for longer than he expected, beginning to struggle against the punches, the kicks, and the knife swinging at him. (M/n) had been so sure that, even if he hadn't forgotten, he was over everything Makarov did to him, but he couldn't have been more wrong, the constants flashes of images appearing in his mind every time he blinked told him so, and Makarov had taken advantage of his state to pin him down to the ground.

"Only one of us is gonna get out alive of this one, igrushka." Makarov had ditched the knife and had wrapped his hands around (M/n)'s neck, sneering down at him, "Goodbye-"

Before he could finish his phrase, Ghost had sneaked up behind him after following all the grunts and groans, gripping his submachine gun and raising it, hitting the back of Makarov's head with the stock, successfully knocking him unconscious.

Ghost kicked Makarov off of (M/n)'s body, who was coughing as the oxygen returned to his lungs. His eyes saw Simon's boots, and he struggled to get back on his feet, dismissing the helping hand the blond wanted to give him.

"Let's... Just go... Fuck..." He muttered between coughs and groans as he stumbled his way out, knowing Simon was following him with Makarov on his shoulders.

He ignored the heavy stare in the back of his head as he reached for his pistol and holstered it, making the selective decision to leave his knife behind... He could always get a new one.

//////

Everyone was in the interrogation room, waiting for Makarov to wake up. (M/n) was tense and on edge, deciding on standing in the shadows, where he knew he couldn't be seen.

That's why he hated the shiver that ran down his spine when Makarov's eyes stared right into his, he knew he was there, he could hear his breathing over everyone else's. Fuck, even now, Makarov knew exactly how to get in (M/n)'s mind to destabilize him.

"It's been so long... Igrushka," the sound of his mocking voice and the words directed at him, made (M/n) blink a few times, looking away into the dark as he tried to ignore the flashing images in his mind, making him feel sick and disgusted.

"Go die, scum," Makarov laughed at his words, causing his body to shiver and tremble, (M/n)'s senses were heightened, able to feel everyone's stare on him, and he hated being in that place, in that specific situation, and Ghost had realized that, he was about to walk toward him, but Makarov spoke again.

"I guess you don't anything about him. Not at all."

Done with his games, Price pulled harder on the chain around Makarov's throat, making him choke but his expression of superiority never faltered.

"You know? I missed you, so much, we used to have so much fun together, and... We were so happy, but then you left, now I understand why," the sounds of his sweet and psychotic voice (M/n) snap. He was making it seem like they were actually a happy couple... How sickening. Everything Makarov had said made him feel sick.

With gritted teeth and clenched fists, (M/n) launched at him, fury burning in his (e/c) eyes.

"All you did was used me! You played with me! You ruined my life!" Before he could get close to hurting the men chained to the chair, Ghost and Soap held him back. Everyone watched how (M/n) struggled for a few seconds before falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face, eyes empty and void of all emotion, "I wanted to die every day I was with you, so don't you fucking dare say we were happy, Vladimir."

++++

@xdark-acadamiax thank you for your commission!

#.~commissions for lee~. #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #task force 141 x reader #tf141 x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #angst #smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #top male reader #.mackjlee9 writes

[evsstolenhearts]

Summary: Spencer comfort you after you have a nightmare

Spencer Reid x gn!BAU!Reader | roughly 900 words | no y/n

Warnings: semi graffiti mentions of blood, a bomb, intrusive thoughts.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

The red and blue lights flash through the windows as you walk through the old school. Gun pointed down and FBI vest too tight. Everything is quite as you walk alone.

You turn the corner to what looks like an identical hallway, rows and rows of doors fill your vision. The lights from the cop cars can no longer be seen from the window. Your legs move on autopilot, your adrenaline rapidly pumping but with every passing second it's as if sludge is filling your brain.

As your body moves on its own, you enter a set of double doors leading to the gymnasium. The lights are off but in the middle of the room is your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. He sits tied to a blue desk chair, hair disheveled, lip split, black eye resting on his beautiful face, and blood running from what is probably a broken nose. But the worst part isn't his injuries, but the bomb strapped to his chest. In a panicked haze, you run to him, dropping your gun as you rapidly inspect the contraption. The timer ticking down from 10.

Crying as you desperately claw at the bomb, all logic being thrown out the window. The tick of the timer rings in your ears, getting louder and louder as the timer gets closer to the end.

Four, three, two, one. Just as the timer finishes, you wake up. Lungs dying to breath, sweat lining your hair line, hands shaking, and heart threatening to beat out of your chest. The fog of the nightmare slowly dissipates, your brain understanding that it was fake.

As you begin to calm down, you sit up, looking over to your boyfriend, seeing him sound asleep in his own world. With a shaky sigh, you gently move the blanket off yourself and swing your legs off the edge of the bed. Grabbing a blanket off Spencer's reading chair he keeps in he corner of the bedroom. It's the fluffy green one you've come home to see laying over his lap as he is completely captivated by some book in Russian many times.

You walk into the kitchen, grabbing a cup, pouring ice and water into it. Sitting on the couch, watching the ice slowly swirl in the cup, moon light coming through the windows, being the only light in the apartment. Putting the cup on a coaster on the coffee table. Staring off at the stacked book left on the floor by both you and Spence, your thoughts begin to wonder.

What if that was a real situation? You cant react like that- you and Spencer would die in that situation. What if Hoth of JJ was in his position and you couldn't save them? They have family's. They have people to go home to. To take care off.

While you sat and stewed, Spencer awake due to your absence. Getting himself out of bed, and padding through the apartment to find you. Once the living room is in view, he finally sees you, making his way way to sit next to you.

"You know, the average adult needs seven to nine hours of sleep to function at top performance. " Spencer softly brings you out of your thoughts, hand rubbing your arm, "and with our job I'd say that functioning at top performance is extremely useful."

Your thoughts calm as you look at Spencer, the adrenaline and anxiety remaining from your dream finally seeming to leave. A barely there smile forms at his facts, "Then why are you awake?"

Spencer's smile copys yours, his only being laced with worry, "Because I couldn't find you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry for worrying you." Your voice lowers as you lean up against him, bringing the blanket over both your laps.

"You don't seem fine." His voice lowers as well, "did you have a nightmare again?"

There's a beat of silence before you sigh, the remnants of your smile falling, "yeah, I did."

"You know, the study of dreams is rather interesting. When it comes to nightmares, they could be caused by a multitude of things, from anxiety, trauma, watching scary movies, stress, poor sleep, or for some people just eating before bed." A small smile forms back over your face as Spencer takes your hands, gently rubbing over the back of them as he talks.

"So, you say my nightmare could have been caused by dinner last night?" You move your head on his shoulder, looking up at Spencer fondly.

He laughs a little, "I'm saying that your nightmare, despite probably being scary, isn't likely to come to fruition. And it's not suprising you have them. We see tragic and gruesome things daily. Everyone in our line of work will get nightmares, it would concern me if they didn't. What matters is that you don't let it affect you in the feild." Spencer's hands haunlt their movements as he looks back down at you. "I love you, Spence." Your voice is barely above a whisper, as if your love is the most sacred thing in the world. And to Spencer? It definitely is.

"I love you too." His volume matches yours, holding onto the moment between the two of you, "do you wanna try and sleep again?"

"I don't wanna, but I will." You mumble.

Spencer guides you from the couch, leaving your cup to be delt with to tomorrow as you go back to bed. Legs entangled and arms holding one another as you doze off to what is hopefully a peaceful sleep.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid scenario

[just-aake]

Trust Me

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A side story/prequel to Come With Me but can be read standalone. You work with Clint to eliminate a dangerous Russian spy in Budapest.

Warnings:  fluff, violence

Words: 2851

Budapest, Past - 2003

“I got eyes on the target,” Clint’s voice comes through your earpiece as you slowly move up the staircase of the apartment building.

“Any clear shot?” you whisper back, adjusting the grip of the gun in your hand.

“Not yet.” 

“Are you even going to shoot her if you do?” you criticize him, still mad at the fact that he didn’t take the shot when he had a chance, letting your target escape and forcing you to track her down all over again. 

Clint sighs tiredly.

“I’m telling you, there’s something different about her. She has potential.”

You roll your eyes at his words. You were quickly moving up in rank at Shield, becoming one of the best trackers in the agency. The last thing you need is a failed mission to derail all of your hard work. 

You slow your steps as you near the door of the apartment room.

“Still nothing?” you ask.

“Yeah, she’s keeping to the center of the room,” he grumbles.

Checking your gun one more time, you nod in determination.

“Okay, you create a distraction and I’ll go in.”

At the sound of broken glass, you kick the door open and rush inside. You spot the target quickly enough, her red hair flipping behind her as she snaps her head toward your direction. 

You shoot at her twice, but she dodges in time for the first bullet to just graze her arm while the other one misses her completely. 

You are about to advance further into the room when a chair flies at you, causing you to duck back behind a pillar as it crashes into pieces against the wall. 

You quickly turn back into the room with your gun raised when her hand grabs your wrist and slams your arm against the pillar. The force causes your gun to fall out of your hands and onto the floor. 

With your arm still in her grip, you raise your leg to kick her, striking her stomach. 

The impact pushes her back, but she doesn’t release you. Instead, she uses the momentum to pull you forward and flip you onto the ground. 

You can only focus on the pain in your back for a second before there is a pressure against your neck. 

The target is on top of you now, pinning you down while pressing her arm hard against your neck. From this position, you can see her face more clearly. Her fierce, cold eyes focus on yours.

You can now understand what it meant when her file described her as beautiful. 

Your lack of oxygen reminds you of your current position, and you internally curse at yourself for losing focus, beginning to struggle against her hold.

She doesn’t budge, but you don’t give up. You glare determinedly at her even as it gets more and more difficult to breathe. 

Her eyes suddenly widen in realization as if snapping out of a daze, and in the next second, she releases her hold and moves off of your body. 

You take in a deep breath, coughing, before rolling shakingly to your feet, picking up your gun during the process. You point your weapon at her, your finger hovering near the trigger. 

But you hesitate when you see her. She hasn’t moved from her position on the floor, and her posture now appears heavy and tired. She has an apathetic expression as she stares at you. It’s like she’s given up completely.

You keep your gun pointed at her cautiously as you try to catch your breath.

“So you’re the Black Widow,” you manage to rasp out.

“Natasha.”

You tilt your head in question. 

Natasha nods at you.

“You were sent to kill me right? I figure if someone should know my name, it should be the one who finally gets rid of me.” 

This was supposed to be the most ruthless assassin? The thought runs through your mind as you watch her.

You lower your gun slowly at her response, raising your other hand to your earpiece to ask Clint.

You don’t notice the red dot that appears at the center of your chest.

“Clint–,” you’re interrupted as Natasha tackles you onto the sofa, and a gunshot shatters the window of the apartment hitting the area where you were standing. 

You look at the bullet mark. From the angle of the shot, if she hadn’t pushed you, you would have been fatally wounded. 

Clint’s voice comes through your earpiece. “A truck just pulled up with a lot of armed men entering the building. You need to get out now! I’ll take care of the ones on the rooftops.”

A small grunt of pain catches your attention as you look at Natasha. Her arm is bleeding from where you had shot her previously, and she had landed on the injured area when she saved you. 

You look between the exit and Natasha, shaking your head as you make an admittedly reckless decision. 

“I’m taking her with me.”

There are sounds of fighting in the background when Clint replies. “What!?” 

You ignore his exclamation, standing up.

“Just meet us back at the safe house.”

Throwing her uninjured arm around your shoulders, you pull her up and wrap your arm around her back, supporting her. You ignore the questioning look Natasha throws at you. Honestly, you’re not sure what you are doing either. 

Rushing out the door, you stop at the sight of two armed men down the hall. They spot the two of you and raise their weapons. 

In the next second, your body is pushed behind a pillar as gunshots are fired at your position, sending pieces of wood flying. You realize Natasha is pressed close to you, shielding you with her body. 

When there is a slight pause, she pulls out her gun and shoots back at them. After they are subdued, Natasha looks back at you to check your condition, and she finds you staring at her curiously. 

You were speechless, unsure of what to say after the supposed assassin protected you for the second time. You are about to thank her when you spot another man over her shoulder, appearing from one of the other apartment doorways. 

You quickly push her behind you before firing at him, his body slumping to the ground.

Turning back to her, Natasha has an impressed expression as she looks at you. You ignore the warm feeling when you see her intense gaze, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the direction of the staircase.

You stop abruptly when you see more armed men sweeping the floor around the corner. 

Backing up quietly, Natasha pulls you into another open apartment room. 

You close the door, locking it, before pushing the dining table against the entrance. Turning back around, you find her standing on the window sill. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at her, grabbing her hand.

“I’ve got an idea. Just follow me.”

She begins to move along the edge outside of the building, but she stops when you don’t release her hand.

You look down at the long drop skeptically.

“They’re going to break in any minute now,” Natasha warns.

At the sounds of stomping and yelling in the halls, you curse as you reluctantly climb up onto the edge with her. 

The two of you move carefully around the building until she stops suddenly. You gasp in surprise when she jumps off the edge. 

Natasha lands gracefully on a balcony two floors down of the building next to yours, straightening back up. She looks up at you expectantly.

“Come on, I’ll catch you.”

You scoff in disbelief.

“Sure, I’ll just trust an assassin with my life. What could go wrong?”

You close your eyes, resting your head against the building as you prepare yourself. You don’t see the small, amused smile on Natasha’s face as she watches you.

Letting out a deep breath, you leap off the edge. Her hands wrap around you, catching you and bringing you safely to the ground.

You stumble into her as you try to stabilize yourself, your hands holding her shoulders tightly. You stay in that position, taking deep breaths to calm your beating heart.

When you finally pull away, she raises her eyebrows at you in a silent question.

Huffing, you shove past her into the building, grumbling under your breath.

“I should’ve just killed you.”

Natasha lets out a small smile at your words, looking away, before following after you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The two of you arrive at the safe house first. After checking the locks, you turn to the supposedly deadly spy. She has an impassive look on her face as she settles on one of the chairs.

You frown when you notice a dark color on the sleeve of her arm. She must still be bleeding from when you shot her. You go to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit, a clean towel, and a bowl of water.

Natasha looks at you curiously when you pull up a chair next to hers. You were laying out your supplies on the table before grabbing a pair of scissors and reaching for her arm. Her years of training cause her body to instinctively tense and move away. 

You pull your hands back at her guarded posture.

“I’m just going to cut off the sleeve to patch you up. We need to get that clean unless you want to get it infected,” you reassure her. 

You wait until her body relaxes and she moves her arm back to you before getting closer to remove the piece of clothing. 

You observe the injured area. It didn’t look too deep since the bullet only grazed her, so all you would need to do is dress the wound and bandage her up. 

You are careful not to jostle her arm too much as you begin your work. Dipping the towel in the water, you dab it gently around the edges of the wound, cleaning off the dried blood. When you finish, you grab the disinfectant spray.

You look up at her apologetically.

“Sorry, this is going to sting.” 

Natasha doesn’t respond to your words, but you see a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Sighing, you spray the disinfectant solution on the wound before covering it with a dressing. Besides a tiny sharp inhale of breath, she doesn’t even flinch at the contact. 

Fully focused, you unconsciously blew lightly on the surrounding area to provide some relief from the stinging sensation.

Your action causes Natasha to look at you in surprise. It’s been a long time since she has been cared for this gently before. 

You begin to apply the bandage. As you carefully wrap her arm, you decide to speak up.

“Thank you, by the way, for saving me back at the apartment,” you tell her sincerely.

When you look up at her, there is a pained expression on her face. You are about to ask if you had hurt her when she spoke first.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” 

Her question causes you to pause for a second. You shake your head, looking back down to continue your process of wrapping the bandage.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you respond, referring to when she let you go. 

“You know who I am. What I’ve done. I’m not a good person. As long as I’m alive, bad things will happen.”

You finish the last wrap, securing the bandage in place before looking at her. 

“From what I saw, you saved my life. Twice. I don’t believe a person who does that can’t have a little bit of goodness in them.” 

Natasha’s eyes widen in surprise.

You give her a small smile and a few gentle pats on her arm.

“All done,” you tell her. 

Standing up, you gather your supplies to return them to their places. Glancing at the corner of your eye, you see Natasha examining the newly bandaged area, gingerly touching it.

At the sound of the lock opening, you both snap to the door, cautious and alert. You relax when you see Clint stumbling in, a little frazzled but otherwise unharmed.

Clint stops at the doorway as he looks between you and Natasha. Letting out a deep exhale, he presses his hand to his head in disbelief.

“Oh wow, you actually brought her with you. This is going to be fun to explain to Fury.”

An hour later, you and Clint check in with Shield on the status of the mission.

Fury’s face is fuming by the time you both recount the events that took place earlier.

“I sent you to eliminate a very dangerous, very deadly Russian spy. Instead, you bring her back with you. What on Earth were you two thinking?”

Clint flinches away from the video call before addressing Fury.

“It’s not Y/n’s fault. I was the one who suggested not to eliminate her. I’m telling you, Fury, she could become a great asset to Shield.”

You look over at Natasha as they continue to argue. She has a cold and impassive expression on her face, seemingly already resigned to her fate. 

You decide to interrupt, “I’m also backing his recommendation for her recruitment to Shield.”

Clint turns to you in surprise at your change of opinion, but you don’t look at him. Your eyes stay focused on Natasha who's now giving you a questioning look.

You continue, “Clint’s right, Natasha has amazing skills and abilities. She’s not irredeemable.”

You look back at the screen.

“She just needs a different option, Fury. We can give that to her.”

A brief look of surprise passes on her face as she stares at you. 

You see Fury contemplate your words, his eyes looking into the distance in thought. He shakes his head in resignation. 

“Ah, what the hell, fine. One chance. Take down the Red Room, and maybe I’ll consider it. But you two are responsible for her. Everything she does, it’s all on you and your jobs. You two better hope you’re not wrong about this.”

You nod your head at him, “Don’t worry, sir.”

You lock eyes with Natasha confidently.

“I trust her.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Unknown Airspace, Present Day - 2018

“Ow, that stings.” Natasha winces as you clean the cut on her hand. 

“Stop moving,” you chastise her, as you begin to gently wrap the bandage around her hand. 

“You know, back when we first met, you didn’t make a sound when I was patching you up.”

Natasha gives you a teasing smirk, “That was because I didn’t know I would get a kiss from the pretty agent if I showed a little pain.”

Letting out a huff of laughter, you finish tying the bandage in place before turning her hand and pressing a soft kiss on her palm. 

You move to stand up to put away the supplies, but a tug on your hand causes you to stumble onto her lap, narrowingly avoiding her newly bandaged hand. 

“Nat!” You shouted, examining her hand again to make sure nothing was affected. 

After you finish your inspection, your concerned expression changes into an unserious glare when you finally look at her. 

Natasha has an amused smile on her face, as she raises her eyebrows pointedly at you.

Rolling your eyes, you cup her face, bringing her in for a soft kiss. Natasha’s smile widens against your lips before pressing closer to you, deepening the kiss. 

You were slowly losing yourself in the kiss when you felt her hand caress your thigh. Her injured hand. 

Your eyes snap open at the realization, and you quickly jump off of her lap. Natasha remains frozen in her position, eyes blinking in confusion at your sudden disappearance.  

“No, none of that, you are on bed rest until we get to Wanda’s and Vision’s location.” You reprimand her, moving away quickly towards the door in case she pulls you in again. 

Natasha stands up to follow you, disbelief on her face.

“It’s just a small cut.”

She grabs your hand to turn you around and sees the concern in your eyes.

“What else is bothering you?”

You sigh as you look down at your joined hands, gently caressing the top of her bandage.

“I’m just worried. It’s not like them to not check in.” 

“They probably just lost track of time and forgot.”

Natasha brings her face close to yours.

“Trust me. Everything’s going to be okay.”

You give her a short peck on the lips, smiling at her.

“I always have.”

Natasha smiles at you with love in her eyes before walking backward, pulling you with her. 

“We still have an hour before we reach their location.”

She tilts her head at the bed and raises her eyebrow suggestively. 

You give her an exasperated look.

“You’re injured.”

She has a teasing smirk when she replies.

“There are other things I can do to you that don't require my hand.” 

You roll your eyes and shake your head fondly at her, but you don’t resist when she pulls you on top of her, your body melting into hers perfectly.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff

[flamehairedwritings]

Do Not Touch

Characters: Jim Hopper x Female Reader 

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 10k

A/N: My take on your friend and mine: sex-pollen! I started writing this two years ago, isn’t that wild.

Tags: s3 Hop’, dub-con because of sex-pollen, fuck or die situation, Hopper being a huge dick at first, swearing, masturbation, dirty talk, thigh-riding, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, doggy-style, creampies, hand on neck/throat but no choking, gentle-mdom Hop’, more submissive reader, slight praise kink, slight cum play.

Summary: A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites.

—

“... fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“They’re tapping your phones, Jim, how can you not see it?”

“‘cause it’s not fuckin’ true.”

“Oh, right, so...”

As Murray sets off on another rant, you raise your eyes to the heavens, or rather the dirty, damp ceiling, and tip your head back against the wall, exhaling a long, long breath.

You knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Not impossible, but not easy.

And even Hopper had known Murray was your only hope with this kind of thing.

This kind of thing being that neither of you speak Russian and Murray does.

You’d heard the message over the Hawkins Police Radio two days ago while you and Hop were working late in his office. He’d been adjusting the frequency, fiddling, more like, when the voice had suddenly come through, delivering a short message. You’d both stared at each other, then it had come through again. You’d realised it was the same passage and had quickly grabbed a pen, repeating it to yourself as you wrote it down phonetically on your notepad.

Neither of you had known what to do, so you’d just carried on with your evening, working on your new case. But it had weighed heavy on your mind when you’d left; with the strange things that had gone on in Hawkins in the last couple of years, you are suspicious of everything. Hopper apparently had shared your thoughts as, the next morning, he’d called you into his office, shut the door, and asked if you’d kept the note. When you said you had, you’d both then decided that deciphering it would put your minds at ease.

... Except it was really fucking hard because none of the words sounded close to anything you recognised.

Barely ten minutes later, Hopper had shoved his chair back and hissed out curses.

“We’re gonna go and see Murray,” he’d muttered as he’d strode out of the room to get more coffee.

You’d watched him go, irritation prickling at you because everything needed to be done right now with him these days. In the four years you’d known him, he’d never exactly been a very patient man, but this was different. In the last few weeks he was quick to rile, short-tempered, irritable, yelling more often than not, and you were starting to get sick of it.

So maybe it’s a good thing that he can let that all out on Murray now, who can give back as good as he gets, often, actually, better.

Not that you don’t stand up for yourself when Hopper is in one of his new moods and snaps. He never yells at you, he never has, just raises his voice slightly or gets unnecessarily snippy or even borderline patronising, but your usual tactic is to just walk away, leaving him to stew until he comes to you and makes his kind of apology (offering you a hot drink or a pastry), or you try and lighten the mood. That’s just getting tiring now, though. 

And it’s also a huge turn-off.

Yeah, okay, fine, you’ve admitted it to yourself, you’re attracted to him, but it’s a line you don’t like to cross; he’s your boss and your close friend, too, considering everything you’ve both been through with El, Joyce and the kids.

Now, though, you’re not even sure you want to be his friend.

You’ve tried to talk to him, ask him why he’s so God damn angry all the time but he just brushes you off or says he didn’t sleep well. The latter is nothing new, he was a mess when you’d arrived in Hawkins, sleeping for a few hours at a time on his couch in his trailer, but he’d really come into his own since then, especially when he’d had to start taking care of El. The former is new. Living through life or death situations, spending many late nights working together, and the town being small has brought you two closer together, and you’ve confided in him and he in you, so it stings when he brushes you off like you don’t have a history, like you aren’t his friend. Like you don’t matter.

“Do you know what it fuckin’ says or not?” Hopper thunders in the next room, and the patronising edge to his tone has your nose wrinkling.

“Of course I do, you neanderthal, if you give me the fucking piece of paper then I will be able to write it down for you.”

For once, and you never thought that you ever would, you’re on Murray’s side.

There’s the muffled sound of cursing, then a patronising ‘thank you’ from Murray, and then it’s quiet, except for the sound of a chair squeaking as one of them sits down. From the huff, probably Hopper. Folding your arms across your chest, you exhale another breath as you let your gaze travel the room.

It’s exactly how you’d imagine Murray’s place would be. There are... things everywhere, on every surface, some things you don’t even recognise like devices and folders with foreign writing on them, all just strewn around. To your left on a counter there’s even a corked jar marked ‘DO NOT TOUCH’, filled with a russet-coloured liquid, an unfamiliar, what was once probably red, flower head submerged in it. It looks rather like a lily, but there are strange, swirling patterns on the petals that you don’t recognise.

Your attention is diverted by the sound of the chair squeaking again, boots on wood, and then Murray’s voice.

“Ah, ah, ah, what do I get, Chief?” 

“What?”

“What do I get for my services?”

“What do you get? You don’t get a fuckin’ broken nose, you asshole.”

There’s the sound of paper sliding against skin.

“... What the fuck is this?”

“It’s what was written for me, word for word, so unless you got something wrong, then that’s it.”

There’s silence, then the sound of Hopper striding closer to the room you’re in.

“You’re welcome,” Murray calls as Hopper exits the room, and you press your lips together at his thunderous expression.

“Thank you, Murray,” you answer for him, raising your voice a little.

“Ah, you’re welcome.”

Dropping your arms as Hopper nears, you raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“It doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense,” he mutters, thrusting the note towards you.

Taking it from him, you read it, then frown as you read it again.

The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly.

Inhaling a long breath, you shrug and look up at him. “Yeah, that makes no sense to me.”

“Yeah, I thought it wouldn’t.”

You make yourself interpret that in a kind way as you look at him, watching him lean against the counter beside you and take the note from you, shoving it into his pocket.

It’s complicated. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s not making a comment on my intelligence.

Licking your lips, pressing them together for a moment, you open your mouth, then close it... then open it again, your voice low, “Do you think this maybe has something to do with what Joyce was saying about the magnets? And the lab?”

If his expression was thunderous before, it’s just full on pissed off now. His gaze darting up to you, you can see how tight his jaw is.

“We don’t know that.”

“I know we don’t, but it’s a little suspicious—”

“Or it could just be some people communicating via code.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s suspicious, isn’t it—”

“Not necessarily—”

He goes to put a hand on his hip as he huffs out a breath, but his elbow knocks against the jar, pushing it off the ledge, and your eyes widen as your hands dart out in the same moment Hopper’s do. Both of you acting on instinct, it fumbles in both your hands for all but two seconds as you try to catch it, in the process the cork top sliding off and some of the liquid spilling onto your hands and his arms and you’re waiting for it to sting and burn but it doesn’t and then— 

And then it’s falling and smashing on the floor.

You stare at the spreading liquid, the flower resting limply on it before your eyes dart up to meet Hopper’s, your mouth open. His is closed firmly, his hands, like yours, still raised.

“What was that?!” Murray calls, and you hear him approaching, your eyes now darting to the archway.

“Uh, it—”

“Nothin’, bye, Murray.”

Hopper grabs your hand and pulls you towards the front door, shoving it open and leading you out into the fresh air. He releases you and pulls his car keys out of his pocket as you head for the passenger side of the Blazer, both of you swiftly climbing in once he’s opened it. He’s starting the engine and turning the Blazer around before either of your seatbelts are on properly. Good. There’s only so much shit a human being can take from Murray.

Your seatbelt secured, a glance in the wing-mirror shows you the man himself, waving his arms frantically and faintly yelling for you to come back.

Absolutely fucking not.

Whatever it was, you’re sure it’s replaceable. Sure he collects weird things but it was just a flower, how precious could it be?

You hear Hopper blow out a breath as you head back to the main road, both of you relaxing. Leaning your head back, you keep your eyes on the road, letting the riddle swirl in your mind. You’re certain it’s connected to Joyce’s theories; in all the time you’ve been working at the Station you’ve not once heard someone speaking in code over the radio that wasn’t one of your own or kids, and as for Russian? You’d be very surprised if anyone in the little old town of Hawkins spoke it.

You want to broach the subject with him again, but maybe not now when you’re stuck in a hot car with him and only just starting a nearly two hour drive.

Boy, is it hot.

It’s just gone noon and it’s already sweltering. Rolling the window down, you tilt your head towards it, expecting some kind of breeze. There’s a light one, but it does nothing, so you grip the front of your shirt between your thumb and forefinger and waft it, trying to create some air. The way the shirt moves against your skin... every time it touches against it, slides against you with the movement, you’re hyper-aware of it. Maybe it’s just because you’re more aware of your body in general considering how hot you are.

God, it is uncomfortably hot.

You’re about to ask Hop to put the aircon on when he does so, angling a few of the grates towards himself. Glancing at him, you notice a few beads of sweat at his hairline.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?”

“Hm.”

Oh, well, that’s that conversation over.

You give him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he’s probably thinking about the riddle, too, so you return your thoughts to it, repeating it, turning it over and over—

It’s so hot it’s actually quite hard to think. 

Blinking and widening your eyes a little, you say each word of the riddle slowly in your mind, but they just end up being words, and when you try and say it all together again you just end up stopping halfway through, forgetting it momentarily.

Just wait until you’re back, you can have a cool drink, whack the aircon right up and think about it until you go mad.

You angle the grates on your side so one’s sending a cool breeze to your face, the other your body, and then drop your hand into your lap—

Jesus Christ.

Your leg jerks a little, involuntarily, as you register the sensation of your fingers on your clothed inner thigh. You quickly move your hand to your side but even that, your fingers gliding over your leg, makes your stomach muscles tighten.

It had felt good. Far better than it usually did.

You’re just hyper-aware of yourself because of how hot you feel, it’s fine.

You shift a little in your seat and— 

You catch yourself before a sound escapes you.

Fucking hell, that had felt good. So good in fact, your pussy is actually starting to ache.

Usually when you’re turned on, very turned on, the smallest of touches can have you gasping but... Are you turned on? You take a moment to consider it and find... Fuck, you are. Where the fuck has this come from? 

Hopper clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts, glancing at him. He’s sweating a little more and he’s gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles almost white, but that’ll just be the heat, another thing that pisses him off.

You need a distraction from... whatever this is your body has decided to feel.

“Maybe it’s from another town.”

“What?” He says it so sharply, almost like you’ve said something completely ridiculous.

“The message? Maybe it’s from another town and just carried over—”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

Your mouth closes tightly and you return your gaze to the road, staring at it.

Take a breath. He’s in one of his moods. Murray has riled him up. Just let him ride it out... Fuck that, I really need to say something to him about his attitude.

It’s the perfect distraction, planning in your mind what you’re going to say when you get back to Hawkins, coming up with retorts and come-backs to whatever he could say, acting out the conversation in your head and going down every route imaginable. You get so in to it, in fact, that you manage to just about forget how warm you are, and you don’t notice that Hopper is sweating profusely, his hips shifting every few minutes.

—

Your clothes are sticking to every inch of you. Your entire body aches.

What the hell is going on.

You’ve been in the car for a total of thirty minutes now, but it feels like a God damn lifetime. Thinking about arguing with Hop had only gotten you so far; it had channelled some of this weird energy you’re feeling but then suddenly you’d thought about ripping his shirt off and shoving him onto his God damn uncomfortable couch and sitting in his lap while you told him all about how God damn annoying he is.

And then the aches, the bone deep aches, had started.

Fuck, do I have the flu?

You just feel awful. Your elbow rests against the car door, your hand supporting your head, and you stare out of the window, taking slow, deep, steadying breaths. You feel nauseous and your skin is on fire. You’ve tried to keep quiet but you actually think you might be sick, and between throwing up in his car and asking him to pull over, you think the latter will annoy him less.

“Hop’.”

“What?” He doesn’t snap this time, instead he sounds... strained.

“Can we pull over soon? I don’t feel well.”

“Yeah.”

Wow.

Okay.

That hadn’t been so hard. 

His voice is still strained and short, but, again, that could just be the heat. He doesn’t pull over immediately and as you glance up you notice a sign for a motel not too far ahead.

Oh, good.

Ten minutes later, the tyres of the Blazer are screeching as he turns sharply into the parking lot of the motel. You have to grip at the handle of the door as he swings in, parking swiftly and braking hard.

“I’ll get rooms.” The words are said so sharply it’s like they’ve been punched out of him.

God, he really doesn’t want me to throw up in here.

Wait, ‘rooms’? Are we staying for a night? That’d be nice.

You both climb out, and you’re almost dizzy from the action. Hopper’s already striding towards the reception booth and you slowly follow after him, wiping the sweat from your brow. You have to walk with your legs slightly apart because your thighs rubbing together... What the fuck is going on? By the time you reach Hopper he’s already got a key and is turning on his heel, walking back behind you.

“C’mon.”

As he passes you, his elbow brushes against your arm and you both flinch because, fuck, a weird little electric shock thing happens. Except, whereas when that usually happens you only feel it on your skin, this time you feel it all over your body, spreading down and curling somewhere in your lower stomach.

And it felt good.

Beads of sweat run down your arms, back and chest as you follow him up a flight of stairs to the first floor. It takes every ounce of energy you have to get up there, whereas Hopper’s almost running. The door’s open when you finally reach it and he’s got the aircon on high which you’re grateful for. Closing the door behind yourself, you’re about to thank him when you look over at him and you notice that he’s drenched in sweat, just as you are.

He glances up and briefly meets your gaze before he runs a hand through his damp hair, his eyes sweeping the room as he paces, his eyebrows raised.

“Only one room left. Sorry.”

You shake your head, the action just increasing your nausea, as you shrug. “No, it’s okay. It’s not like we need to spend the night. Just... think I need a nap, or something. Feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a short silence in which you sit down on the nearest of the two double beds, your hands on your knees.

“Me, too.”

You look up at him, your brow dipping. “What?”

Hopper gestures at himself before he drops his hand, exhaling a hard breath. “Feel like... feel like I’m gonna be sick, too. Feel so fuckin’ hot, can’t think straight.”

“Yeah, me as well...” Your frown deepens. “Are we both sick?”

“How’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. It came on so suddenly, too, only after we left...”

You meet his gaze as he presses his lips together, following your train of thought.

“That son of a bitch...”

Crossing the room, he grabs the phone from the bedside table and dials Murray’s number. At any other time you would have laughed that he had it memorised. Like they’re pals.

His tongue darting over his lips, your eyes following it for some reason, he holds the phone to his ear, his jaw clenched.

Murray answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Murray—”

You can hear the other man even from where you’re sat.

“You broke the jar, didn’t you.”

“Uh, yeah, but I can—”

“Oh, you fucking idiot. Is she with you?”

Hopper’s eyes briefly dart to you. “Uh, yeah, hey, I’m sure it’s replaceable, I can pay—”

“One, no, it’s not, and two, it’s not me you should be thinking about, you ass.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, are you feelin’ a little weird, Jim? Huh? Is your lady friend?”

“Uh...” He glances at you again before turning his back, lowering his voice slightly. “Yeah, why?”

You stood up instantly as he turned, and, ooff, there’s the dizziness again, though you manage to move closer to him, a frown pulling at your features as you tut, so you hear Murray’s humourlessly chuckled reply.

“Oooh, hoooo, you’re both in for quite a day.”

“Why, you fuckin’ asshole?”

“Let’s just say you’re going to be feeling certain urges... or maybe you’re already feeling them?”

Hopper glances at you yet again before turning his back away from you again. You hiss and move closer, brushing against him, which just makes you both grimace because there’s the electric current again. You try to stay as close as possible without touching him.

“Just tell me what’s fuckin’ goin’ on, Murray.”

“The best and most polite thing to call it would be an aphrodisiac.”

You frown as you glance up at Hopper, but he’s just staring at the wall.

“What? Why the fuck do you have something like this, Murray?”

“I was going to dilute it to sell in certain markets.”

“As what?”

“An aphrodisiac, dumbass.”

As Hopper snarls and opens his mouth, you grab the phone, your fingers brushing together making your stomach flip and something clench inside you.

Holding the phone to your ear, you swallow before exhaling a breath and murmuring, “What do we do, Murray? How do we stop feeling awful?”

He sighs, and you’re surprised and also slightly unsettled by his tone softening a little. “There’s not much you can do, except what you have wanted to do for a long time that neither of you will admit.”

Before you can speak, Hopper calls, even though he’s right beside you, “And what the hell does that mean?”

“Fuck each other!”

Your mouth drops open as you think your heart stops, and Hopper freezes beside you.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean—”

“No, Murray, I mean,” you quickly cut him off, rubbing at your damp forehead as you lick your dry lips, your cheeks burning. “What did you, why would we need to, uhm, do that?”

"It’s the only way to ease the aches and pains, honey, that—”

“Pain?”

You’re aching, yes, but you wouldn’t say you’re in pain.

“Stop interrupting me, Jesus...” You press your lips together at his exasperated sigh, before he takes a breath. “The pollen from that flower is like an instant aphrodisiac. If it comes into contact with your skin, that’s it, kiddos, you’re horny. I was diluting it so it’s less lethal, hence why it was in that jar marinating in that liquid. I’m assuming you got some of it on you when you oh so cleverly broke it for no reason?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t mean to—”

“What did I say about interrupting? Depending on how much you got on you, you’re gonna feel hot, then your whole body’s gonna ache, then’ll come the urges and the pain, and once those hit, hooo... so you two had better get to it.”

You feel like you’re having some kind of a fever dream. Rubbing your forehead again, you close your eyes for a few moments as you almost trip over your words, “What, hang on, w-what do you mean by lethal, what happens if we don’t, you know, do anything? It’ll just wear off, won’t it?”

Murray’s silent.

Oh... this is bad.

“C’mon, Murray, answer her.” Hopper’s sudden voice makes you jump.

There’s a quiet sigh. “You gotta take care of each other, together, or... or you’ll die.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Murray speak in an entirely gentle tone.

You don’t know what stuns you more; that, or his words.

“... What.” Your voice is so quiet.

Hopper is silent.

“I don’t know how much you were exposed to but no matter how much, the need and the pain, if nothing is done, can get so bad that your organs start to fail and shut down. If it was just a little, it’ll take longer, if it was a lot then I’d say it’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it... it was just a little. Few splashes. I think.” Your voice sounds far away to your own ears.

“Well, you’ve got some time, then. But it’s gonna be uncomfortable so get to it.”

“Right... Thanks, Murray.” You place the phone down, feeling so far out of your body, hanging up before he can say another word.

Silence.

You look up at Hopper as he clears his throat and moves away, being very careful not to brush against you, his hand running through his hair again. As he sits down in the armchair, you sit on the edge of the bed opposite, staring at the floor.

It’s... it’s... You don’t have the word for it. Wild. Outlandish. Crazy.

“He could be lying, right.” You look up at Hopper as he speaks, meeting his gaze. “He could be mad that we broke somethin’ of his and is just makin’ this all up.”

“Yeah,” is all you can think to say.

“This could just be a reaction to it.”

“Yeah...” You shrug after a moment, blowing out a breath. “Pretty fucking bizarre thing to make up.”

“Well, that’s Murray.”

You both fall silent as he stares at the wall and you stare at the bed. It’s got a patchwork blanket on it, all red squares with other panels of red floral designs. It reminds you of the damn flower. It’s like it’s taunting you. As are the beads of sweat sliding down your spine. And the new, faint, throbbing in your cunt.

You believe Murray.

It’s... wild and bizarre and you don’t understand it at all but, yes, you believe him. Your lips are suddenly dry, either from the realisation or the flower, and you lick them as you lift your gaze to Hopper. He’s still staring so intently at the wall, hands gripping the armrests.

His eyes flick to you as you speak gently.

“I think we should stay the night. Until this wears off. Don’t want to infect anyone else, if that’s possible.”

He nods curtly, expressionless. “Okay.”

Thankfully, Joyce has El for the night, Hopper having asked her to take her in case you both stayed longer than you thought you would, so that’s one less thing. You think about saying that out loud to him, then swiftly decide against it. Of course he’ll already thought about that, will probably take offence at you asking and think it implies you think he hasn’t.

You hate the silence of the room, though, hate the space it provides to think, so you continue instead with, “We’ll just... ride this shit out. It was only a few drops. We’ll be fine.”

Hopper may be expressionless, but what you can’t see are his blunt nails digging into the fabric of the chair. 

“Okay.”

—

It was a mistake, turning the TV on.

It’s too loud, too bright, but, fuck, you need the distraction. Your eyes are fixed on it like you’re possessed, and your shirt is soaked, sticking to your skin. Uncomfortable. Your skin is slick, you can feel sweat sliding down your face, arms, back. A loud commercial comes on and you grab the TV remote, turning it off as a wild burst of irritation suddenly flashes through you.

Focus on the room. Two double beds. Bare desk. Mini fridge. Bathroom. Standard motel room. Boring. Plain. Dull. So dull. Think about how dull it is.

It doesn’t work. It hasn’t been working for the last twenty minutes. Has it been twenty minutes? Longer? Less? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. Your body is aching, not only physically but with need, like you’ve never, ever felt before. You feel almost drunk, too, unchallenged words on the tip of your tongue, your brain doing the bare minimum to stop them from coming out... but they’re not just words, they’re pleas.

Touch me.

Kiss me.

Fuck me.

Your eyes dart to Hopper. He’s not moved but his shirt is soaked, too, the hair on his chest, peeking out the top of the grey, flannel button down, damp. That hair... You stare at it. How far down does it go... What would it feel like if you ran your fingers through it...

Your pussy clenches around nothing and tears start to sting at your eyes.

Fuck, I need to be touched.

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, thick with unshed tears. “Hop’, I feel awful.”

A muscle in his jaw moves. “It’s just a reaction to whatever it is—”

“Yeah, and what if it’s the kind of reaction he was talking about?”

Hopper finally looks at you, brow dipping. “You believe him?”

You hate the way he says it, all disbelieving, making you feel like you’re an idiot. 

“Yeah, I do. Why would he lie, especially about something like this? Yes, he’s a dick, but he’s not this much of a dick. He’s more likely to just rip into us and go on and on than make something up.”

“You can’t say that, you don’t know him.”

Brushed off. Again.

Your chin rises slightly, meeting a challenge you might be imagining. “I’ve known him long enough.”

His jaw moves as he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you hang out all the time do you? You best pals, know everythin’ about him?”

“No, it just doesn’t seem like him—”

“Doesn’t seem like your good pal Murray? How would you know? You can’t just make assumptions like that, he is a—”

The words lash out of you. “Oh, just shut the fuck up, Hopper.”

He pauses, lips still parted, his own words dying on his tongue... until new ones return, his eyebrows raising as his head tilts. “... Excuse me?”

Anger feels good, it channels some of this increasingly restless energy swirling inside you. “Just shut up, you’ve been a real asshole all week, all month, all the time I’ve God damn known you, actually—”

“You didn’t think I was an asshole at the Christmas party.”

You freeze, staring at him.

Last year’s Station Christmas party.

Why did he bring that up.

Was he thinking about that.

You know he was thinking about that.

Because you’ve been thinking about it, too, minutes earlier, intently. It had suddenly come rushing back to you, his hands on your waist, your lips on his, tongues stroking at each other, the moaned sigh you’d released as he’d pressed against you.

You’d both been drunk, though, and lonely and alcohol makes you horny so you’d wanted him to kiss you and he’d spent the last hour before it looking like he’d wanted to, too, your eyes constantly finding each other, looking, really looking, and then you’d just bumped into each other as you’d come out of the bathroom, but it seemed like he’d almost been waiting for you and then you’d talked, no, you’d flirted, he liked your dress, you liked his comically festive tie, and you were both laughing, your hands somehow on each other, maybe to steady yourselves, and then you’d... then you’d kissed.

Neither of you had brought it up, ever, until now. You’d been so horribly hungover the next day that you hadn’t even remembered it until late in the evening and you’d felt so embarrassed. You’d fretted for the rest of the night, wondering if you’d ruined your friendship and a relationship that meant so much to you, but when you’d gone into work the following Monday he hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t even looked at you differently. You’d been so incredibly relieved, but it had come back to you every now and then; how good his lips had felt, how passionate the kiss was, how his hands had felt on you.

All this time you’d thought he had just forgotten it... and it appeared that wasn’t the case at all. 

Your already warm face becomes warmer.

“I was drunk.”

He’s got a fucking smug look on his face, like a fucking petty bastard.

“You kissed me.”

“I did not.”

“You did, you pulled me in.”

“Oh, just shut up, Hopper, it doesn’t matter or count anyway because we were drunk.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I saw the way you were lookin’ at me—”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” you snap, staring at him.

He pauses, the smug look quickly fading. Then, he shrugs, the corners of his mouth turning down. “It doesn’t.”

“Good, shut up, then.”

Silence descends.

And you fucking hate it. At least while snapping at one another you don’t think about how your panties are now soaked and you just want to feel some fingers against your cunt and a cock deep inside you...

A strained groan slips from your lips.

“You okay?” he mumbles, and you blow out a harsh breath.

“No, I’m not, I just—”

Oh, fuck.

You were just about to say it. You were just about to ask him to fuck you. Rolling your neck, your breaths slightly shorter, ragged, you lick your dry lips again.

What the fuck do I do, I’m literally about to ask my boss, my friend, the absolute pain in my ass to fuck me so I don’t, possibly, die.

Then, it comes to you.

“... You just what—”

“Just need the bathroom,” you cut him off exasperatedly, every intonation of his voice prickling your skin, and not in an entirely unpleasant way.

“Jesus, fine,” he mutters, and you hope he doesn’t notice how quickly you turn your back to him as you stand, striding towards the wooden door to the bathroom.

Closing it firmly behind you and turning the lock, you step back from it, releasing a breath that has your shoulders relaxing minutely. You catch your reflection in the mirror to your left and release another breath at your expression; sweaty, tense, and, yes, there’s a trace of panic in your eyes.

Just do it. Do it then you’ll stop thinking about it and then it’ll be over and you’ll feel okay.

Your fingers, seemingly of their own accord, move to your jeans, fumbling with the button and zip. In your haste, the zip catches on the material and tears fill your eyes again.

Oh, come on, come on, come on, please...

You don’t realise you’re murmuring the words out loud, so fixated on what your fingers are doing. Finally after a moment or so you can shove them down, your panties with them, and then you’re spreading your legs as one hand braces against the door and the other slides between your pussy lips.

You can just about muffle the moan that falls from your mouth as your finger tips glide back and forth over your clit, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

Oh, fuck...

It feels heavenly, unlike any pleasure you’ve felt before from a first touch. You’re dripping, too, so soaking wet that you can hear it as your fingers quicken their pace... but it’s not enough.

How is it not enough?

Tears are slipping out of the corners of your eyes as you grit your teeth, a need so desperate coursing through you that it’s painful.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck... Why isn’t it working?

You slip two fingers inside your pussy, hoping filling yourself even a little will help but... no. It just makes you crave a cock inside you even more, increasing the aching that’s running through your entire body.

Oh, please, come on—

Two gentle knocks sound against the door. You freeze again, mouth open as your fingers stay buried inside you.

A throat clears on the other side, and then Hopper speaks, voice slightly muffled.

“Hey, uh... I’m sorry for snappin’, and for my shitty attitude, I... I know I haven’t been the best to be around lately...”

His words just become sounds as a kind of white-noise, ringing starts in your head.

Oh, no, no, no... No...

Your cunt is throbbing. You can’t help but think about him murmuring those apologies in your ear as his cock thrusts slow and deep inside you, as he tells you he’ll make it all up to you, everything, that you feel so good around his cock and he wants to make you feel so good all the time...

As your hand drops and you straighten, you don’t think you have absolute control of your body anymore. 

And you don’t fucking care.

Unlocking and yanking the door open, you instantly meet Hopper’s gaze, watching him blink as he abruptly silences whatever he was saying.

“Woah, you okay?”

How is he so normal? Yes, he’s sweating, profusely, but that’s it, seemingly. What a sight you must look in comparison. You watch his gaze travel down you, settling on your jeans and panties that are around your knees. His eyes dart back up to yours, and you watch his slick throat bob as he swallows hard.

“What the hell you doin’.”

You can hear your own breathing, ragged, short. Staring at him, you don’t know if it’s sweat or tears running down your cheeks.

“Hop’, I need you to touch me.”

It’s as if you’ve just asked him to detonate a bomb. His eyes widening, his mouth moves but nothing comes out for quite a few moments.

“I... Hey, now, hang on—”

“Please.” At any other time you might have been embarrassed for sounding so tragically desperate. “I tried, I tried to touch myself and it didn’t work, I’m aching so bad, please—”

“Sweetheart—”

That nearly has your knees weakening, a faint sound emitting from the back of your throat. He swallows again at hearing it and runs a hand down his mouth, shaking his head.

“I mean—”

“Fuck, Hop’, please. Don’t you feel it, too? I feel like, my, my, my whole body is just in pain, it fucking hurts, Hop’.”

You don’t know whether he feels it, too, or he’s just pitying you, because confliction is rife across his face.

And then he takes a step back, and he might as well have punched you in the stomach with the gasped breath that releases from you.

No, no, no, no...

“Hop’...”

He takes another step back, unable to stop his gaze from flicking down to where your hands are pushing your jeans and panties down and off, your shoes with them, kicking them aside. Then, he looks away, so sharply and suddenly, his fingers flexing by his sides.

“I can’t.”

“Why.”

You can’t think of any reason that would be damn good enough right now.

Hopper can’t look at you as he shakes his head again. “It’s not right, you don’t want this, it’s just the flower—”

“I want this, I want you, Hop’, I need you...” You’ve stepped towards him, your hands on his chest, sliding over his damp shirt, fisting it in your hands. “... I need you inside me...”

His jaw is so tight, his whole body is, you can feel his muscles underneath your hands, and his breathing is harsher. He raises a hand, which you don’t notice is shaking until he places it on one of your forearms. You wait for him to try and pull it away, but he just grips it lightly.

“You... You don’t want me really, this, this isn’t right—”

“I do, I do...” Your chin lifts and your lips brush against his jaw, and you swear you hear him groan quietly. You cling onto it, even if it isn’t real, and the words tumble out of you. “... I’ve thought about you before, inside me, making me cum, I’ve fucked myself imagining it was you before, so many times, please, Hop’, I’m begging you...”

He must have groaned because now his head is tilted against yours, lips against your cheekbone. His thumb is brushing against your inner wrist, too, so lightly. You press against him... and feel it.

His cock straining against his jeans.

Maybe it’s not just you, then. The arm he isn’t gripping moves, your hand dropping to settle on his thigh, your fingers caressing.

“Please, Hop’...” you whisper.

You know he groans this time, his lips so close to your ear. You know he’s seconds from crumbling, too, his hips angling towards your hand, his hand sliding from your wrist to your bicep, head turning closer towards yours, lips inches away—

Then, he freezes, a breath hissing out through his teeth.

He doesn’t move away but, staring at him, you can see the confliction return and even some anger that washes over his features.

“Hop’—”

“This isn’t the way I wanted it to be.”

You pause, lips parted so your harsh breaths can escape audibly. He hadn’t wanted to say that. He’d hissed the words out, eyes unable to meet yours, in fact he’s now closed them; regret swirling inside him.

But you can only think about one thing right now. 

You’re shaking with relief and anticipation. “... You’ve thought about me, too, then.”

A statement, not a question.

His eyes open, finding yours. “Yeah.”

You relish every word you say. “Then fuck me like you’ve wanted to.”

Any last restraint he has crumbles.

And he must have be in just as much pain as you because it happens in mere seconds.

Hopper’s hand grips the back of your head, holding you close and tight against him as his lips crash against yours. A combination of a sob and a moan emits from the back of your throat as you grip at his shirt, desire burning through your veins. His other arm wraps around your lower back and part of your brain is grateful for his strong grip because then he’s suddenly turning you and walking you back towards the closest bed.

The backs of your legs knock against it and you fall back on the soft covers, and it’s like he didn’t let you go at all as he’s already on top of you, one arm by the side of your head, the hand of the other resting on your torso, fingers splayed. One leg is between yours to hold himself up and your brain is working so fast, trying to find any way to soothe what your body is crying out for, that it takes you a moment to initiate its plan. Shifting down, your back arching with the movement, you start to rock your bare cunt against his thigh. The moaned cry you release is swallowed by his mouth, but he gives a groan in return.

“Fuck...” he hisses, feeling how wet you are as you’ve already soaking through his jeans.

The material is rough but that just makes it more heavenly against your swollen, aching clit and folds. Gripping his biceps, your lips tear from his as you tip your head back with a loud moan, eyes closed tightly. It’s not enough but it still feels so fucking good.

It takes you a few moments to realise he’s pushed your shirt and bra up, and his lips instantly descend upon your hard nipples, kissing, licking, sucking, pulling with his teeth slightly.

Tears are sliding down your cheeks in relief and a smile is pulling at your lips because—

“Yes...” you gasp, fingers curling tightly into his hair, tugging at his scalp.

His hips jerk as you do, and his grunts tell you just how much he likes it. So you do it again, and again, and again... and realise he’s grinding his hips against your thigh, just like you’re doing to him.

“Fu-uck...” he growls against your chest, his mouth moving in a deliciously sloppy way up your skin to your neck.

You whine as he kisses you there, your head tipping back, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

It’s so, so fucking good... but it’s still not enough.

“Hop’, need more...”

“Shh, don’t worry, baby, I know...”

How can he string words together? You had just about managed to breathe yours out.

What delicious words they were, though.

You must have done something in response to them, bucked your hips a certain way or made a sound, you don’t quite know because your mind is starting to feel like liquid, because he’s suddenly smiling now.

A lazy, smug smile that makes you clench.

Gazing down at you, his hands splay across your waist, and he presses his thigh a little harder against your cunt, which has your back arching.

“You like when I call you baby, huh? When I talk to you?”

“Yeah…” is all you can so eloquently answer with.

“That’s good to know.”

How is he capable of this much talking? Does the pollen enhance sexual characteristics that are already there?

Whatever it does, you can’t think on it much further because the hand on your waist is now travelling down your stomach, and you’re about to complain at his thigh suddenly disappearing when they’re now replaced by his long fingers sliding over your cunt.

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp as he groans, your eyes falling shut.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet, you’re fuckin’ dripping…”

You don’t even bother trying to respond. Gripping at his shoulders, all you can do is moan as three of his fingers drag up and down your folds. When they move over your clit, you don’t know whether it’s a sob or a moan that falls from your open mouth. Either way, pure pleasure courses through you. Maybe at any other point you would have cum right there and then from how intense it is, but you need something inside you. Whatever is happening, that’s all you know.

“God, Hop’, please…”

“I know, baby…”

And as he says the words, he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Yes…” you cry, your hips pushing down so they slide all the way inside you, but if you’d been coherent enough to you would have bet he would have done so anyway.

“Jesus…” he hisses, tone strained, and he instantly starts to slip them in and out of you, sinking them in as far as he can each time. “… You’re so fuckin’ wet…”

He groans again when you clench down on his fingers, and it seems to break whatever kind of resolve he was still holding onto, however the hell he was holding on to it.

A pitiful whine of protest escapes you when his fingers pull out, and he just nods swiftly, strands of hair falling over his forehead as he rises up onto his knees.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, just let me… Fuck…”

Lifting your head, you watch him shift backwards until his boots can touch down on the ground, but it’s only a moment before he’s kneeling on the floor and then his hands are wrapping around your thighs, widening them, and then he’s lowering his head and then… and then…

Your mouth drops open wider as your hands dart to his hair, plunging in once again as his tongue licks a long, wide path up your folds.

“Just needed to fuckin’ taste you…” he mumbles against you, the vibration of his voice making you mewl.

If his hands weren’t keeping your thighs apart you would have wrapped them around his head. All you can do, though, is rock your hips and grind against his tongue. He growls with pleasure, and just as you inhale a breath to beg for more, he pushes three fingers inside of you.

Three.

Three of his thick, long fingers slide inside you with no resistance or pain at all, and you throw your head back with a loud cry as you clench around them.

“Fu-uck...” he groans, curling them a little, stroking inside you. “... Look how fuckin’ easy that was, huh... How fuckin’ easy are you gonna take my cock, baby? Huh? Is it gonna slide right in? Fill you all up on the first stroke?”

Again, at any other time, you would have cum right there and then, but... somehow it’s just not enough.

Gritting your teeth, because while it’s not enough, the pleasure is still so fucking good, you release a sound between a sob and a moan.

“Hop’... Fucking need more...”

“You want my cock in you, sweetheart, huh?”

“Please.”

He groans again, and then you hear it.

He’s stroking his cock in swift, firm movements, and you want to be doing that, you want to be touching him, tasting him, pleasuring him, and—

“Want you to cum on my tongue, wanna fuckin’ taste you,” he mumbles against your pussy, lapping at you again, and you have to take in a few ragged breaths before you can speak.

“... Can’t... Not enough... Need your cock...”

“Christ...” He exhales a breath that closely resembles another growl. “... Do you know what hearin’ those words does to me, huh? Oh, you’re gonna cum on my cock, baby, but I’ve fuckin’ dreamed about you cumming in my mouth so you know what you’re gonna do?” He lifts his head, and you open your half-lidded eyes to look at him. “... You’re gonna cum on my tongue.”

And lowering his head again, he sucks hard at your aching clit.

And maybe it is just enough, because your back is arching and you’re pulling at his hair and he’s having to tighten his grip on your thigh and tears of relief or maybe it’s beads of sweat are sliding down your cheeks because yes, yes, yes...

You don’t realise you’re chanting the word as your climax builds, and when it rolls through you, a blissful serenity follows it...

That lasts all of a few seconds before you’re squirming again, the throbbing in your core somehow sharper, more desperate.

Hopper, however, is sucking and licking at you still, lapping up your release as he moans, an arm moving to settle over your lower stomach. Opening your eyes, you gaze down at him and see his hand working over his cock still and you want to move and touch him but his arm is keeping you down and his tongue is continuing to move so deliciously against your cunt.

And then he’s releasing short, sharp groans, and his hips are jerking and his hand is starting to slow, and then he cums, and you can only watch as it trickles down his fingers.

No, no, no, you want to feel him cum, you want it inside you—

He lifts his head, licking his lips, and the hunger still burning in his eyes steals your breath away.

He rises, and you can only watch with ragged breaths as he kicks his boots away and pushes his trousers and boxers off. His dick is still hard, pressed flat against his stomach, tip red and weeping.

“You want my cock? You want my fuckin’ cock inside you...?” he’s murmuring, and your eyes dart up to meet his as you release a breath.

“God, fuck, yes, Hop’...”

“C’mere...” He’s suddenly on top of you, then, cupping the top of your head with his large hand as he props himself up on his elbow. It eases some more of the pain a little, having him crowd you, feeling his skin on yours, but you both know exactly what you need.

His eyes are boring down into yours, and your nails are digging into shoulders, and then, finally, you feel the tip of his cock against your cunt.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck, inside me...” you’re breathing, pleading, half out of your mind with need as you nod.

And then, without any more teasing or talking, his thick cock slides all the way inside you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out and your back arches. Pure pleasure and relief and bliss overwhelms you, and you haven’t even cum on him yet. In fact, he can’t move yet because you’re clenched so tightly around him, your slick walls gripping at him like your cunt doesn’t want him to ever leave.

His breaths are short, sharp, strained, and his hand has moved to rest under your head, a gesture that, at any other time, you would have recognised as tender.

“Oh, fuck, baby... Fuck... Feel every inch of my dick... You feel it, huh?”

Words aren’t possible anymore, so you can only nod, eyes still shut tight, and your breaths fall away into moans as he kisses at your neck, all of them sloppy, uncoordinated, needy, and you suddenly realise he’s murmuring to you.

“... Wanna fuckin’ move, wanna make you feel so fuckin’ good, wanna cum in your wet cunt and feel you cum on me, want you screamin’ my fuckin’ name...”

As if his words were the key, you unclench around him with a whine of desire, and, with a hiss, he instantly draws his hips back and then snaps them forward, sinking fully into you once again.

Fucking lighting zips through your body, you’ve never felt anything like it.

He must feel it, too, because he doesn’t stop for one moment, drawing all the way back and thrusting right back into you to the hilt, each time harder than the last and, distantly, you can hear the headboard smacking against the wall.

“... Good girl... Good fuckin’ girl...” he’s growling through gritted teeth, and you realise you are because you’re doing exactly as he wanted.

You’re shouting his name amongst your moans.

And not even just ‘Hop’ or ‘Hopper’; ‘Jim’ is falling from your lips, and each time he hears it his hips snap forward just that little bit harder.

“Yeah, baby, good fuckin’ girl... Good girl... Fuckin’ Christ... Can you hear how fuckin’ wet you are? Listen to how fuckin’ good you take my cock, baby... Take it... Fuck, take it...”

Nevermind listening, it’s how he feels inside you that’s making sparks skitter across your skin. He fills and stretches you perfectly, dragging and sliding against your sensitive walls deliciously each time. You’re not going to last much longer, the last coherent part of your mind knows, and it nearly makes you sob with both relief and dread.

You never want this fucking feeling to end, it’s all so good, so fucking good but you know it’s just going to feel even better when you cum, when you feel him cum.

Managing to open your eyes, you find his gaze still on you, flicking from your parted lips to your chest.

“... Cum...” you whisper, voice hoarse, and you have to swallow before you try again. “... Cum inside me, please... Want to feel you cum... Fill me with your cum...”

“Yeah?” His jaw is tight, eyes boring into your own again. “... Wanna feel my fuckin’ cum fillin’ you up, baby, huh? Want my fuckin’ cum leaking out of you?”

“Yes”, you chant over and over and over breathlessly, gaze fixed on his, unable to look away because his hips are stuttering in their rhythm, just slightly, but enough that you know.

He’s close.

“Cum, cum for me...” you start to plead now, “... Wanna feel you cum, cum inside me, Jim, please... I need it...”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ need it, baby?” he grunts, voice low, gravelling.

“Yeah, give it to me, please...”

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take my cum...” He groans sharply then, mouth dropping open. “... Fuck...” His hand darts out from under your head and grips at the bedcovers, and with a few more thrusts, he then buries deep inside you and cums with a shout, eyes shut tight.

And euphoria spreads through you.

You feel his cum spill inside you, and the pleasure that courses through you from the sensation sends you spiralling into your own release. Gripping at his arms, nails digging in probably to the point of pain, you throw your head back and cry out.

It’s unlike any bliss you’ve ever felt before.

For a few moments you may even black out as it rolls through you in wave upon wave upon wave.

Hopper feels closer, as well, as if he’s collapsed slightly but just about managed to hold himself up in time. His lips are against your jaw, and you can feel his panted breaths, his lightly trembling frame.

Oh, you’re trembling, too, can hear it in your own breaths.

At least you can try and calm your heart rate, now, because it must be over, it has to be. It’s been done now, it’s...

It’s...

It’s...

It’s still there. That strange energy, whatever the hell it is. It’s not as intense now, but it’s there. Enough so that you lick your lips and gaze up at him, finger tips gliding down his arms.

“Hop’... I can still feel it.”

It’s a few moments before his eyes open, and when his gaze meets yours, and you realise he’s still hard inside you, you know before he speaks what he’s going to say.

“... Me, too.”

Neither of you speak, or move, just gaze at each other. Enough sense has returned that you take these few moments to breathe, but not enough that when those moments do start to stretch on... you just can’t help yourself.

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you start to slowly roll your hips.

His eyes fall shut with a guttural groan, and your involuntary mewl answers him.

When his eyes then snap open, you also can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“You not satisfied yet?” he murmurs, voice dangerously low, and you shake your head as your tongue glides across your lips.

“Fuck me again, Jim.”

His thumb and forefinger are suddenly gripping your chin, and his lips hover over yours as he exhales a breath.

“It not enough that my cum is fillin’ you up? You need some fuckin’ more?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, trying to lift your chin higher so you can kiss him, but he holds firm.

“You want me to fuck you again, sweetheart?”

“Please, Jim...”

His lips brush against yours, and it’s the lightest of touches, but it’s enough to have you moaning as you rock your hips again.

“Please...”

“Well, seein’ as you’ve been a good fuckin’ girl...”

Pulling back, he rises up onto his knees, and pulls out of you. You mewl softly at feeling empty now, but you’re instantly distracted by his hands gripping your thighs, keeping them parted wide, and the fact his eyes are fixed on your cunt.

“Fuck... Your pussy looks so pretty with my cum spilling out of it...”

Fucking hell.

“Hop’, please, fuck me, I need you again, I need your cock—”

“I know, baby, I know.” Your words have his gaze tearing away and returning to your own, and he releases your thighs with a groan. “Turn over. On your stomach.”

You don’t need telling twice.

Except you have your own demand.

“Take your shirt off, I want to feel all of you.”

When his fingers fly to the buttons of it and start undoing them, then you roll over onto your front, resting your cheek against the covers.

You hear him toss it aside, and then his fingers are sliding down your back, over your ass and to your cunt. His fingertips caress your pussy lips lightly, gliding up and down, and your eyes fall shut at the gentle waves of pleasure that pulse through you. He’s toying with your mixed cum, gently pushing it back inside you and spreading it along your cunt.

“Jesus Christ...” he breathes, half in awe, half aroused.

Any other time you would have left him indulge himself for as long as he wanted, but the desperate need inside you is growing once more.

“Jim... Fuck me...”

You’ve only just finished pleading him, when his cock sinks inside you, this time in a slow, long thrust.

As your mouth drops open in a high moan, your fingers gripping onto the covers, he releases a long groan, eyes fixed on his dick disappearing inside you.

“Fuck, look at that...” His hands grip your ass, spreading you open wider. “... Take me so fuckin’ good... So fuckin’ good...”

Your eyes nearly roll back when you close them, as he starts to repeatedly give you slow, long thrusts, watching his own cock spread your soaked lips apart. You’re nearly delirious with pleasure, cunt pulsing around him, and when you feel him move, you can’t even open your eyes.

He settles over you, holding himself up on his forearm while his other hand slides under your neck and grips it gently, making you lift your head, tipping it back a little.

And now his lips are right against your ear.

“Fucking perfection... Like you were fuckin’ made for my cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply as his thrusts speed up a little.

The position you’re now in somehow makes it feel more delicious than before, like his cock is somehow filling you even more. You now focus on the lewd sounds caused by how wet your pussy is, too, and it’s so lewd, so filthy and hot that it’s making your stomach clench.

You must clench around him again, too, because he inhales a ragged breath before speaking.

“You gonna cum for me again?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, mind starting to turn blank.

“Gonna cum on my hard cock? Soak it and the fuckin’ bed?”

“Please...”

It feels more intense this time, the mounting pleasure, and your fingers twist into the bed covers as you try and ground yourself. He’s murmuring into your ear still, hand on your throat still gentle.

“... what a good fuckin’ girl you are, taking my cock so good, gonna take my cum again, huh? How many times can I cum in this pretty little pussy, how many times can I fill you up until you’re satisfied, huh...”

It’s all too much, too good...

Your orgasm crashes over you.

Your brow dipping, your mouth dropping open, a scream is pulled from your throat, and the world goes dark.

—

Your eyes snap open.

Oh, fuck.

There’s a slight pounding in your head, the beginnings of a headache most likely from dehydration.

Annoying.

When did I last have a drink, though? Or eat? Must’ve been...

Oh.

It all comes flooding back to you.

That... That actually happened?

Releasing a soft groan, you lift a heavy hand to try and rub at your forehead—

Another hand catches it, and the space beside you dips slightly.

“Hey, hey, woah, you okay?”

Your gaze darts to the source, and you find Hopper sat there, concern etched across his features. You don’t have time to think about it or answer, though, as he swiftly releases your hand and a glass of water suddenly appears before you.

“Here, drink this.”

Sitting up a little, you drink deeply, your throat dry, raw, actually, and the entire contents is nearly gone when you finally lower it, gasping a breath in.

He takes the glass from you, placing it on the bedside table, and as you lick your lips and adjust against the pillows, he watches you, fingers rubbing against his mouth.

Clearing his throat after a few moments, he ask quietly, “You okay?”

Is it too soon to tell him that was probably the best fuck of your life?

Raising your eyebrows, a light smile pulls at your lips. “Yeah. A little sore, but...” Your smile fades as he looks down at his hands, his jaw moving. “... Oh, Hop’, I didn’t—”

He can’t look at you, his head shaking. “I am so... I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, no, don’t be.” Leaning forward, you place your hand on his arm, hating that he stiffens. “We couldn’t control ourselves—”

“I could’ve, I could’ve held out longer, I could’ve locked myself in that fucking bathroom, I just...” He looks fucking devastated.

Shifting closer, you wrap your other hand around his arm, tightening your grip. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I mean it. I...” Well, it’s now or fucking never, and all things considered... “... I wanted it, Hop’. Even without that aphrodisiac thing. I wanted you. I have for a long time.”

Your face is burning and your heart is pounding but relief settles on your shoulders the moment you finish speaking.

His head turns towards you now, gaze darting to meet yours, searching it. “You... You’re not lyin’ to me?”

Your lips lifting again, you shake your head before murmuring, “No.”

Hopper exhales a breath, his hand setting over both of yours. “I’ve... Fuck, I’ve wanted you, too. Just... I imagined it going a little differently.”

You give a soft laugh as delight overwhelms you, and his thumb brushes against your skin. “Yeah, we really skipped the first date, didn’t we.”

“In the traditional sense.” He smiles as you laugh again, but it’s gone just as soon as it arrived. “... You sure you’re okay?”

You don’t care how foolish you look, with your tender smile, gaze openly filled with affection. Probably because his gaze is exactly the same.

“I am. Really. It’s a good sore.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your teeth graze over your lower lip. “I wouldn’t mind getting used to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’d hoped you’d say that...”

Cupping your cheek, he closes the gap between you and kisses you tenderly, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin gently. It’s sweet, gentler than you had ever imagined him to be.

It’s perfect.

When his lips leave yours but he remains close, you smile again. “I guess we can give Murray a thorough review, then.”

He growls quietly as he brushes his nose against yours. “Don’t talk about that man right now...”

As he moves closer, laying you back on the bed, your arms slide around his neck and your smile widens.

“Yes, Chief.”

—

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[bruciemilf]

Got anything for fem!Bruce & Uncle Ozzy?

I love the image of tiny Bryce just. Observing the people around her. Building connections and relationships with particular, precise details that paint abstract memories for her.

She remembers how funny her dad and uncle Ozzy sounded; The spicy rush of their accents, how every word was pronounced with laughter in them,

“Look atcha fatha puttin’ oregano in the bolognese sauce like a fuckin’ animal,— never do that, alright? It’s a sin”

“Stop scarin’ my baby girl, ya fuckin’ ice rat,”

“See, Mr. Doctorate over here don’t believe in hell, — but I seen it. Tastes like oregano.” Their laughter tasted like nicotine, — they didn’t smoke the same brand. Her dad made a point to only smoke light at Alfred’s request, but they never smoked around her

She remembers a potent scent of whiskey they drank over a poker table, where she’d sit on her mom’s knee. Martha always won, and Alfie always accused her of cheating

Her Russian accent would come through, soft but pronounced, “It is not cheating if I have my lucky charm” and she’d press a soft kiss on Bryce’s hair

Uncle Ozzy only smoked knock off vintage Cuban cigars and refused to get anything else. He said the fancy stuff were for tourists

After her parents go under the ground, he only eats pasta with oregano in it

She remembers his car; A classic Maserati, leathered with soft cushions. She’d drive her to and from school, putting her seatbelt on, and tell her stories,

“You listen to me, alright, — Alfred ever wants to ground you, or say he knew better at your age when you get in trouble, you call me, alright? I’ll refresh his memory. “

When she goes to boarding school, he’s there to take her. Bryce still remembers the heaviness of the ride, the way the road seemed to drag on and on. “Listen, slick,”

She still doesn’t know why he called her that; Her mom used to say it was because she was quick witted and always had a smart comment to make.

“Those little shits are gonna make you feel bad. They’ll say nasty, mean shit, cause they’re young, and they think it won’t last. But don’t let ‘em. If they go low, you go lower. Never let people feel like they can step all over ya. Okay?”

Her voice sounded little; Most 10 year olds did. “Okay. Can we get ice cream after you pick me up, uncle ozzy?”

He lied to her only once.

“Sure, kid. I got your back.”

When she’s an adult, she’s too burdened by Gotham, by Batman, by a cross she nailed herself to, to take notice of his absence. Bryce Wayne misses her uncle. Batman and Penguin don’t miss each other at all.

Deep down, she knows he knows.

When she drives him to Arkham, him in the passenger seat, she knows.

“Stop by the drive in, kid. I want an ice cream.”

Bryce says nothing. The ice cream is good.

#I’m really not fond of the ‘every male relative is overprotective over the female character when she starts dating’ trope BUUUUT #I MAKE EXCEPTIONS. Harvey and Clark get random packages with dead rats every few weeks. also I know it in my bones oz fist fights #carmine on the reg lmaoooo. ‘GET A JOB! STAY AWAY FROM HER!’ #dc #bruce wayne #batman #oswald cobblepot #the batman #battinson #text #text post #fem bruce wayne

[kararomanoff]

who's your mommy?

This was written by a minor, if you don’t like that that’s okay you don’t need to read.

when Natasha comes over for a week to stay with you and your mom, she learns that you may have had sex with your now ex girlfriend but your hers? Can’t you see that

warning: smut, mommy kink, innocence kink, double sided dildo, legal age gap, pet names(detka means baby in Russian)

this is shit, I apologise for the terrible writing

its summer break from collage and you where back in your home town for a bit staying in your child hood home.

You had grown up with only your mom and big brother, your dad had left when you where 6 for another woman and it broke your mothers beautiful heart, Natasha had come to stay for a year and a half after the day he left to help as your mom had a depressive episode.

eventually you guys became like a little family, you, your mom, your 11 year old big brother and Natasha. you still remember it, you still remember the day she surprised you by taking you out of school for the day and took you to the zoo and you accidently called her mommy.

after a year and a half Natasha had to leave and go back to New York, you never stopped missing her even to this day at 20 you never stopped, of course you still saw her but only every so often, every few years and every time she saw you it always made her proud for the good smart girl you turned out to be.

but lately she had seen you a bit differently, in a more inappropriate way.

today Natasha was coming to visit you and your mom. There was never really anyway to describe how seeing Natasha again made you feel; nervous or excited or maybe scared which was absolutely stupid cause you loved her and she loved you like a daughter, or so you thought and awhile ago she thought the same thing.

''helloo'' the door opens and you hear Natasha shout, you jump up from your seat running to the front door and jumping into her arms ''NATTY!!!'' you shout in her ear with excitement ''detka'' she replys with the same excitement as she holds you as close as possible, smelling your coconut scented hair.

''Natasha'' your moms voice sounds through the front hall of your suburban house. Natasha reluctantly puts you back on the ground and walks over to your mom giving her a big hug and you can see the giant happy smile on your moms face, happy to see her best friend and that some how made your smile grow impossibly bigger knowing how Natasha had always been there for the woman you gave you life no matter what.

you walk up to them pulling Natasha out of your moms arms ''Natty i want your attention, i've not seen you in foreverrrrr!!!'' you whine

''And here i was going to say how grown up you are but it seems like your just the same little girl who called me mommy'' she smirked making you blush and duck your head.

you offered to take Natasha's suit case up stairs to her room that was left from when she lived there, you had never let her move any of her stuff out, always going into her room when you missed her. but Natasha refused and said she'd take it up because she needed a shower any way.

when she was in the shower you started on dinner knowing Natasha cant cook and wanting your mom to relax but secretly wanting to show Natasha to see your cooking skills. you decided to make her favourite, well what was her favourite last time she tried to make you dinner, which was when you where 6 you had never seen her cook since then.

you got the chicken wings out of the fridge and the sauce you made earlier, you dipped the chicken in eggs then bread crumbs and fried them, next putting the crispy chicken and spicy sauce in a tray to put in the oven.

''mhm baby that smells delicious'' Natasha spoke giving you a fright

''oh natty you scared me'' you breathe, hand on your chest

''sorry little one'' she kisses the top of your forehead, she had always done that but this time it was different, it made you feel different, a way you had only felt once with your ex girlfriend Agatha.

''Natty, you need to leave, its a surprise'' you say seriously

''oh yes, how dare i interrupt the chef'' she says with faux seriousness walking out of the kitchen to sit with your mother at the dinning room table.

you continue to cook put the chicken in the oven and setting a timer. You walk into the dinning room to see your mom and Natasha sitting across from one another drinking red wine, you sit in the chair next to Natasha as you wanted needed to be close to her.

you rest your head on her shoulder, looking up at her ''hi'' you whisper

''hi love'' Natasha whispers back making you smile

''i need to go get the dinner'' you say still look up at her beautiful face

''go get it then honey'' she continues to whisper

''okayyyy natty'' you get up wishing you where still close to her, you hadn't actually seen her in 4 years, of course you had called and text but it wasnt the same and you never wanted her to leave again.

you walk in to the kitchen getting the food out of the oven and put it on plates.

you go back to the dinning room giving Natasha her dinner first, then your mom and finally yourself.

''so how's collage been sweetheart?'' Natasha asks

''gooood'' you hum biting into your food

''she has a girlfriend too'' you mom says unknowing how Natasha would react to that ''mh y/n honey this is delicious'' Natasha blocks out what your mother is saying turning to look at you with a look in your eyes you've never seen before, almost like jealousy but that made no sense why would she be jealous?

''we broke up actually'' you say with a saddened voice

''oh baby im so sorry'' Natasha faked sadness for you, she wasn't sorry, she wanted you, she was going to be your mommy again. ''but i hope there wasn't any touching'' she turns to give you condescending look, you cant reply knowing that there was, but only once.

she picked up on this giving you what you thought was a disappointed look.

for the rest of dinner Natasha practically ignored you and it broke your heart thinking she was disappointed in you.

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

it was now 10pm, you, your mom and Natasha had all watched your favourite movie. You had cuddled into Natasha the whole time but she hadn't said a word to you, she hadn't even looked at you.

''imma go to bed now'' you say getting up from your spot on the sofa.

''goodnight honey, i love you'' your mom said

''goodnight mom i love you too........goodnight Natty.... i've missed you and i love you'' and for the since dinner Natasha looked at you, her eyes soft ''i love you too little one''

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

you are lying in bed in your favourite pjs that Natasha had got you for your birthday a few years ago unable to sleep knowing Nat was upset with you, you couldn't sleep like this. you get up from your bed and tip toe down the hall till your reach Natasha's bed room door, debating where to knock or just to walk in, you decide on just walking in in case she is sleeping.

when you walk in you are surrounded by the sound of panting, you frow your brows ''Natty are you okay?''

''fuck'' you here her mumble and see her head pop out of under the covers, you start to laugh and Natasha's face changed from a worried one to a confused one ''what, what's funny?''

''Natty! your hairs so messy! what the hell where you doing?'' you giggle, Natasha smiles seeing that your still her innocent little girl.

''i was just thinking about you baby girl'' that was true she was thinking about you she may just have been........ touching herself at the same time

''thinking about me makes your hair crazy?'' you continue to giggle

''it makes lots of things crazy detka''

''can i come into your bed natty?'' this was her shot, in all honesty she came this week of course because she had missed you but really because she needed to touch you, to have you, it wasn't a want anymore.

''of course you can sweetheart you don't even need to ask'' with that you get in to her bed, cuddling your head into her chest. ''how did you and your girlfriend touch honey?'' she speaks after a minutes silence and you blush yet again '' was it like this?'' Natasha cups your pussy with her already wet hand that was covered in her juices.

she watches as your face scrunches up ''Natty....what- what are you-'' Natasha cuts you off ''teaching you who you belong to princess and calling me mommy'' she says pulling your pj bottoms down as you whine.

''no panties?''

'' Aggie said it was bad to wear panties''

'' well she was right baby but you still wore your pj bottoms, you should do that because if mommy thinks you need her it'll be really hard for mommy to help you'' she rasps

'' 'm sorry mommy'' you squeaked as she started to rub her fingers against your clit

'' its okay, Aggie was mean and didn't tell you that but mommy did because im nice and i want to be able to help my baby'' Natasha speeds her fingers up making you moan as she lies between your legs teasing you. ''mommy is going to show you soooo much love tonight, you have no idea how long mommys waited to have you here'' Natasha then takes her fingers of your clit to see how you'd react, she wasn't going to let this be over fast, she had waiting to long for it to end in 2 minutes.

''mommy wh- why did you stop?'' you voice shakes needing to feel her against you again.

''awww do you need mommy to make you feel better, to fix the feeling in your tummy?'' she teases as she gets up walking over to her dresser and stripping

''yes mommy please, please please fix it, it hurts. i need you mommy'' you beg relentlessly just like she imaged you would.

she was turned away from you so you couldn't see what she was doing, she open one of her drawers pulling something out and after a few seconds turning back around.

''mommy whats that?'' you ask in fear as you stare down at the two sided dildo, the smaller side already inside of her.

''its whats gonna make you fell better dove'' Natasha climbed atop the bed pulling you down by your open legs ''this is gonna hurt a little sweetheart but i promise that in a few minutes you'll feel amazing, okay?'' she was worried for you but far more excited to ruin you and make you all hers, her little baby.

she starts to slowly push the head of the strap inside of you, making you let out a scream ''honey you need to be quite for mommy'' she whispered hoping that put it in your head to be quite.

once half of the strap is inside of you Natasha starts to take it out only to then thrust the entire length into you

she watched in pride as you bite your lip to stop your scream and tears streamed out of your eyes ''such a good girl for mommy, i promise it gets better'' Natasha's voice is surprisingly soft. she starts to very slowly thrust into you, loving all the noises of your cute little whines.

''mommy can i have more please?'' you moan into her ear, how could she say no to that. Natasha starts to thrust recklessly into you “mo-mommy mhm I-“ you moan

“Gonna cum all over mommy’s cock huh?” She rasp as she feels the coil in her stomach and brings her hand down to play with your clit

“mommy it to mu-much” you whine “feel like imma explode mommy”

“it’s okay baby explode for mommy” she thrust, look down to see you squirt all over her dick “such a good little girl” Natasha hums

“mommy- to much now” you cry after your orgasm is over as Natasha continues to thrust in to you at an outrageous speed.

“mommy need to cum to honey so be a good girl and lie still and let mommy use you as her fuck toy” you whine but do as told wanting to do what Natasha asks of you

“who’s your mommy?” Her voice is lustful as she gets herself off using your body

“you” the whispers falls out of your mouth

“who own you baby? Aggie?” She growls at her own mention of the woman

“no you own me mommy”

“fuck” Natasha groans as she finally cums riding out her high and pulling out of you, then taking the other end out of herself. Natasha climbs into the bed pulling you into her arms

“you mine now baby girl and no else is going anywhere near you”

#natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natalia romanova #fanfic #mcu #natasha romanov #natasha x y/n #wlw smut #lesbian #mommy!nat #mommy natasha #mommys fucktoy

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Forbidden to die II

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT. 18+, language, violence, dark topic

Summary: Captain Price endures the horrors of a Russian prison as a prisoner of war, and finds some solace in his cell neighbour, who helps him stay strong with their late-night chats.

Words: 1.9k

A/N: I'm sorry that this is a short chapter, but I had to divide it into two parts. I will post the next in a few days!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

The inside of your chest was empty. Despair ate its way out of you with a pang of constant, gnawing hunger. You didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. It leaked out of you like poison from a wound.

In there, you tasted fear like never before. It was bitter and sharp and left an aftertaste of sugar on your tongue, like the first moment you tasted a whisper of sorrow that turned into a scream from deep within.

There was nothing but emptiness inside you; the only thing that kept you going was a single, persistent thought.

It was him.

You knocked two times every night, a light knocking and a reassuring pounding between you. After a long and miserable day, that sound was like a gift of light and love amidst the dark gloom. Price smiled as he heard you answer back; it was a sweet melody that calmed him until sleep finally brought a gentle relief to his tired mind and weary body.

When you spoke again, you were weaker. It was as if the part of you that had been so strong and alive a moment before had dissolved and left only a husk behind. You knew this could happen; people in there weakened to the point where they could barely speak or think or see anything but vague shapes and blowing clouds. But you had never expected it to happen to you. The voice that came from his mouth was quiet, but despite your lack of energy, it resonated through your head and body, like a soft whisper in your ear, tingling and soothing.

His voice was deep, warm. “You’re going to be okay, love.” He promised. “You keep telling yourself that, got it?” his soft, sweet voice almost inaudible as the walls swallow everything.” You’re going to be okay…” He repeated, the warmth of his voice growing stronger yet still almost inaudible - A gentle rhythm that calmed your soul.

You didn’t answer immediately. The silence filled the room, and you could hear your heart beating- it was like a cannon, all of the impacts and shocks, all of the things that had happened before and were happening to your present, all gathered in the small chamber of your chest.

You wanted to believe him. He was so warm and kind. But you felt heavy as if your body weighed a thousand pounds.

“...I don’t know.”

You heard your voice echo in the darkness like it had been stolen and bottled up, imprisoned in a bottle to be opened later, after everything had fallen apart.

“Don’t give up.” The walls grew thinner as his voice became even more tender. “You hear me? You ain’t going to give up.” As he rested his back against the hard surface of the wall, he could feel an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and weariness wash over him. The weight of a long and arduous day seemed to be bearing down on him, causing him to feel drained and depleted of energy.” You’re going to fight, okay? You aren’t weak. But you’ve got to keep going.”

His words were like a lifeline, tethering you to this world and reminding you that there was still something worth fighting for.

You wanted to believe him. But it was so difficult. You could barely open your eyes, let alone think or move. And even his voice felt like it was slipping away, leaving you with only the faintest memories trailing behind it.

He grew quiet for some time, contemplating his following words. “Just hang in there.” He said quietly, his words sounding raspy and gentle - unlike the soldier you were used to. But at that moment, he was not a soldier. He was just Price - a person with thoughts, hopes and fears. “We’re going to get out of this hell, love.” His words sounded soft and tender, yet they carried weight. You could feel his words deep in your bones. They hit you like a hammer, shaking you with the force of conviction. He had faith in that conviction.

You wanted to have enough faith in what he believed to change your own mind.

The ground was dry and hard, cold and unforgiving. The wind whipped against you, but you couldn’t feel it. It just felt like you were standing in the presence of an angry god.

Your throat was raw, and your eyes felt crusty and swollen. They felt thick and heavy, and you had trouble keeping them open. Your head was muzzy, and it was hard to think of anything besides the dull throbbing growing more intense in your limbs.

You could barely feel your own hands, so cold and numb. Your feet were icy cold as well; your skin furred with goosebumps.

A sickening, putrid stench of death and decay wafted in, fitting for a place like that. Anyone else would have passed out from the smell within seconds, but the fear pumping through you is far worse than the scent.

“I’m going to die in here, trapped,” you said monotonously.

“What did you say?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. He had a feeling about what was coming.

“I’ve had enough of your false promises! We’re stuck here, and we can do nothing about it!”

His voice was tight, and harsh, but his words still contained the gentleness of the man you’d become accustomed to. “That’s your fear talkin’, love. I know because I’ve felt it, too. It’s time to push yourself past it, okay? Otherwise, this place is going to eat you alive.” He spoke gently, his words soft and filled with compassion.

“Look, I’m not asking you to believe me.” His voice was gruff and frail. There was no strength to be heard. It was devoid of hope, as though he knew you would no longer listen to him. “Just stay alive, okay? for me?”

“...Fine”

But he knew you said it just to make him feel better. You didn’t want to agree with him, but you also didn’t want to keep on disagreeing.

-

The only light came from outside; though the sky was clear and moonless, you could see the stars in the night sky.

Your voice was like a ghost to the outset, the darkness consuming it as your words were swallowed by the void. Your voice was carried away by the wind, swallowed by your mouth without so much as a whisper of sound.

“I’m not scared. “

“I know.” There was an edge to Price’s words and in his tone.” We need a diversion. We send someone out to the main entrance to make a mess to attract attention, to give us time.”

He spoke in a soft, quiet voice. You almost had to press your ear against the wall to hear his words.

“... I’ll go.”

“Not you, love.” Price’s words were quick and direct.

“Yes”, You said stern and clear, like a glass being broken in half.” It’s our plan; it’s only fair that one of us go.”

“But it ain’t gonna be you.” his words were blunt and final.

You didn’t miss how he changed those last days- The transition was a subtle one, but you noticed it nonetheless.

He grew more confident as the plan to take the prison took shape.

You could hear his voice lift from within him, rising and retracting with the power of his authority. The emotional intensity of what he said made him a captain; no one dared question him.

The power of his position wasn’t just a magnet -- it was an engine that fed on fear, loneliness and hate. It gathered others around him.

“Why not?”

It was a simple question. But it required more than a simple reply.

As the day passed and people started to hear about the plan, you noticed the men around you were nervous, their eyes darting to the doors and walls—the hard stares of the guards, like they could sense what was about to happen.

The prison is designed to intimidate a large building of blocks and fences, warded by sentries and turrets. The entrance is garish with its brilliant white paint, like the teeth of a shark.

Your plan had involved more people than you thought; many lives depended on you two.

“’Cause you’re too important to the plan, love.” He paused, letting you mull over his words. “You’re smart. Resourceful.” his voice was low but growing in intensity. “You’ve got the balls. I need you to be in charge if this thing goes tits up.”

There was no question in the request, only a demand.

“That’s not going to happen.”

You laid your head against the wall. It was cold, but for some reason, it felt good; it gave you a sense of stability. A proof that you were still alive and not in a level of hell.

“We can’t be certain, can we, love?” he said. “It’s got to be me.” The voice was soft, almost a whisper, but its timbre carried the power of thunder.

Your teeth chattered; it was cold in the space, and the heavy air in the room seemed to be pushing air out of your lungs. The smell of fear was rich in the air, like the aura of a predator.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t allow it.

“No!” you exclaimed. “We need you, I need you. You are the captain. I can’t do this alone; we can’t move without your guidance!”

The air was dry, plain. A scent you were getting used to, a smell of dust and metal and human bodies. A scent of defeat.

“I know, but you can do this.” He paused for a moment, the words coming quickly and clearly in his voice.” I know you’ve got the heart for it. For ’em.” He says that last word with a hint of venom, “I’ve met some leaders in my time...but you’re one of the few people I’d trust to see something like this through.”

“Please, stop talking like this! You promised, John!”

“I ain’t sayin’ I’ll get myself killed, love. But we gotta be real about this and consider worst-case scenarios, right?” He paused. There was a quiet strength to him as if the words were a physical thing he must hold in check. “You gotta be ready for it, love.”

 “I...I know”

You were scared, and it tasted like you were losing.

It took you a moment to realise what it was. A taste of fear, a bitter taste of despair, it was sweet and sharp. It was like crying, but something worse.

“It doesn’t have to be you,” you said. The tears welled up, and you closed your eyes because you were afraid to show weakness and be weak, even if it’s in the dark, even if it’s only you.

“There ain’t no one else, love. The rest of ’em won’t have the balls, and you know it.” There was a long pause as John seemed to mull over what else needed to be said. “Whatever happens to me, you carry on. Promise me, that’s all I can ask.”

You didn’t answer immediately. The silence filled the room, and you could hear your heart beating- it was like a cannon, all of the impacts and shocks, all of the things that had happened before and were happening to your present, all gathered in the small chamber of your chest.

You felt numb, distant, detached, yet his voice spoke to you again.

“Love, promise me.” There was a pleading to the words you’d never heard from John before. You’d heard him shout, be cold, be cruel and sarcastic. But you’d never heard him beg.

“I promise...”

Your fingers were crossed.

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @fanficwriterlover @i-ameri-cant @littleone65 @cosmoscoffeee @shuttlelauncher81

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #task force 141 #captain price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #john price #john price x reader #john price x you #call of duty #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty mw2 #john price angst #john price x female reader

[magicpumpkin3]

May I request HCs of the Dorm Leaders (Separately) with a [S/O] [Gender Neutral] (Romantic) who can curse out in their native language whenever they get angry? Like in one scenario: [Y/N] got so fed up with the One-Brain Cell gang (First Years) that they willingly cursed out in their mother tongue to the group, giving them an earful of a lecture like an angry mother who found their kids caused trouble at school. How would they react to their partner who can speak in another language? (Examples: Korean, Russian, Spanish, etc.)

(Note: Scolding in any language is lethal.)

(Note 2: Ignore @//swiftyangx12)

- @sanctum-of-ramshackle

Note: *laughing in bilingual* Oh dear, It's going to be such a delight to write

Note: It took almost a year...Well, that was something -

Riddle Rosehearts

I see Riddle as a person that thinks, that curse words are forbidden and that no one should use them well, at least not around him.

So, let's just say, when reader cussed out because of the stupidity of the holy trio, I think it was for the best that no one had a single clue what the hell they were saying, because otherwise Riddle would've collared them.

So, let's Imagen a scenario, where Riddle found out what the bunch of gibberish words ment. He is soo not pleased, the dorm leader really thought that reader was better, then that. Of course there was some scolding and ect, but at the end of the day, he kind of get's it, it's Deuce, Ace and Grim after all. But that's still not an excuse!!!

He's also really interested in learning some basic words in readers native language. Even those cuss words sounded beautiful.

Leona Kingscholar

So, like Riddle, he has no fucking clue what you said. Well, he gets that it's probably something like cuss words but he's not quite sure.

Now, let's clarify that he gives zero shit if you cuss or not. Like, he gets it, shit happens, let's move on. And to be fair, I'll lie if I say I don't think he's the type to use cuss words in he's day to day life.

So, when you let all your anger flow in the middle of an overbolt fight, he's all in for it, even the overbolt kid was stunned by the nonsense you said.

Does Leona want to learn the language? Fuck yeah he does, it would make so much easier for him to cuss and make fun of other people, omG. Overall, he thinks that you're hella cool when you speak your native language.

Azul Ashengrotto

So, I don't think I need to say it again, he has no idea what you said, he has some suspensions but he's quite sure. Azul new that sometimes your brain just glitches and some words happen.

To be fair, I'm not sure how he feels about cuss words. I think he's okay when there's some used, but not like fuck fuckedy fuck fuck fuck.

So, when you started screaming at the trio, he thought it was one of those days when your brain farts some words. He haven't even thought those could be some inappropriate words. Twins on the other hand...oh yeah, they knew-

When he found out, Azul was quite impressed. He hadn't heard anyone curse so passionately, so boy couldn't even be mad at you properly!

As for the language, he finds it mesmerizing. Does he want to learn it? Oh hell yeah! It could be your secret language that only both of you could talk on~

Kalim Al Asim

First of, this is a child. But in all honesty, I think he dislikes cuss words, but not as passionately as Riddle. But still, don't swear around him plz

He is truly curious about you knowing another language, especially when you speak it! It sounds so beautiful coming from you, he is definitely into learning some words. Lemme tell you, the way he was staring at you, when you rained hell fires apun the idiot trio, was something.

Now, we all know that he had no idea what you said, but let's pretend someone told him God help that poor unfortunate soul

He is shocked to say the least, I think he would just froze up with this face 0_0, like. He doesn't blame you, but at the same time it feels wrong to him to hear you cuss in your native language.

Vil Schoenheit

Okay, I feel like he's kind of like an Azul when it comes to the adult language, doesn't mind it, but when it's too much he'll ask you to stop.

Now, you speaking 2 languages is interesting, but at the same time he knows it's semi-normal to be so fluent He has Rook by his side, like c'mon

He would love to learn your language, but I feel he'd actually just learn the basic set of words and of course speak without accent bc perfectionism

Vil is no idiot and he sees with whom you're dealing. He understands, no judgement, yell at them all you want, he will just watch and might trow some disapproval glance in their director, just so they could feel the fault.

Idia Shroud

First of, he's a fortnighter. He's a gamer for crying out loud, I bet when he's comfortable he swears at least once in 3 sentences. So yeah, you can swear all you want, he's not amused.

As for the language, he's quite fond of it. It sounds very majestic when you start to talk on it so to speak. He simp-. And let's be honest here, the fist words that he'll ask to learn are the cuss once, we all know it.

So when he heard you scolding the trio he makes a few mental notes 1)Ask for the translated version. 2) Don't get on your bad side 3) That was hot-. Idia is really amazed how good everything sounded, almost got hypnotized there.

He wants to learn the language not only because he can then swear around people and be unnoticed or at least around himself, but he also wants it to be a semi-secret language between you too, so you can talk about whatever you want without being afraid of someone ears dropping.

Malleus Draconia

Okay, so yet another child. It's like dealing with Kalim but this one is a bit sly. He understands that cuss words have their place in the world but Malleus doesn't feel the need to use them or at least around you.

Malleus has great interest in learning your other language, he thinks that's it's going to be your aristocratic language thing, which he also finds quite romantic.

When he overhead you cussing in your mother tongue at the trio he was amused. Malleus in all honesty found this hole situation hilarious and interesting.

And yes, even knowing cuss words in your language he will not use them just to make you a tab bit mad~

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

[lots-of-pockets]

You don’t have to hide

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 2182

Warnings: none

Summary: Your girlfriend, Natasha, is quite obviously sick with one of the worst colds she's ever had. You see the flushed cheeks. You hear the soft sniffles and stifled sneezes. But Natasha is adamant she's 'not sick'. Can you convince her it's okay to let herself be looked after?

You send Natasha no more than a glance as she perfectly stifles yet another sneeze into her shoulder. You were both sat at the dining room table working on mission reports, and you had been doing so since the early hours of the morning after crawling your way out of bed. You'd barely spoken a word to one another, but it wasn't from lack of trying on your end.

Your stubborn girlfriend was sick and apparently thinks giving you the silent would stop you from worrying. The flushed cheeks, the stifled sneezes and wet sniffles were concerning enough on their own, but the fact that she was adamantly refusing she was sick was another thing entirely and it was safe to say you were growing increasingly concerned.

If Natasha wasn't as strong as she was and wasn't capable of throwing you across the room with only minimal effort on her part, you would have hauled her ass to bed already.

You weren't quite sure what had caused her sickness, but you did have an inkling it might have something to do with her latest mission. She'd refused point blank to put on anything else other her black widow suit despite the freezing temperatures, and that along with snow was enough to make anybody sick.

Even stubborn Russians with red hair.

But she was refusing to admit it, and each time you even acknowledged one of her sneezes, she turns a blind eye and pretends she hadn't heard you. You took the hint, and you hadn't said a word to her in over an hour.

When Natasha sniffles wetly for the fifth time in a minute, you reach behind you and grab the box of tissues from the kitchen counter before sliding them over to her without a word. Natasha eyes you as she pointedly pushes them back, and you could no longer hold back the heavy sigh of frustration that slips from your lips.

"For the love of god babe, just blow your nose." You finally break the silence, dropping your pen to the table and running a hand through your hair.

"I'm fine." Natasha mutters hoarsely as she pointedly averts her gaze.

"No," you counter with a roll of the eyes as you stand up and begin to clear up your work space. You could no longer be in the same room as her without giving in to the urge you had to haul her ass to bed and make her rest. "You're not. You're sick. You've been sick for three days and you sound miserable."

Natasha sniffles wetly, unintentionally proving your point.

"If you don't want me to take care of you, fine. But at least take some medicine." You murmur, rounding the kitchen table. You stare down at her for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Just like you'd suspected, her skin was boiling to the touch, and you let out a soft, defeated sigh before leaving the room.

*

The rest of the day passes with radio silence on Natasha's end. She coupes herself up in the spare bedroom of your shared apartment, but that doesn't prevent you from hearing the wet, gravely coughs and throat scraping sneezes that escape through the thin walls.

It breaks your heart, but there was nothing you could do if she didn't want to accept your help.

As the clock strikes six, you find yourself stood in front of the stove stirring the homemade chicken noodle soup you'd spent the last hour preparing. You didn't know if Natasha would want to eat, but you figured soup would be a better option should she choose to.

As you begin to dish up, you hear the slight creek of the wooden floorboards signalling someone was making their way towards you. You look up in time to see Natasha stop in the threshold of the kitchen looking absolutely miserable. She was adorned in one of your hoodies along with a pair of sweatpants, cheeks flushed nose bright red, and eyes glazed with her fever induced haze.

She stares at you for an alarmingly long time before her lips part, "I'm sick." She whispers, sounding full of congestion. You notice her eyes were shiny with what you assumed were tears, and as she blinks, a single one trails down her flushed cheek.

With a small frown of concern, you make your way over to her and bring your hands up to cup her face before leaning forward to place a gentle kiss to the spot between her eyebrows. Her eyes slip closed as she clings to the material of your shirt, and you let out a quiet sigh as you pull your lips away and instead pull body her into your arms.

"Will you let me look after you?" You murmur as you rest your chin on top of her head, your hand grazing soothing circles across the length of her back as you gently rock her side to side.

Natasha remains silent for a second before nodding, and you feel her chest suddenly begin to hitch against your own. Her nose flares, and her face flutters into that adorable pre sneeze expression as she pulls out of your arms and cups her face in her hands. With two quick inhales, she sneezes.

"Huh'tsschoo! H'htschoo!" She swallows against the sudden itch in her throat as she uses the sleeve of the hoodie to wipe her nose.

You frown as you reach a hand up to brush away the hair that had fallen in her face, "Bless you baby." You murmur, "come on. Let's go eat and then it's time to get you to bed." You place an arm around her waist.

Natasha allows herself to be guided through to the kitchen, coughing hoarsely into her elbow as you ease her down at the dining table. You press a soft kiss to the top of her head as you pass to grab the two bowls of soup, setting one down along with a spoon in front of the sniffling red head before sitting yourself down perpendicular to her.

Natasha had barley picked up her spoon before she was falling forward at the waist and bringing her hand to her mouth. "Hh'ngshh! Huh'hschoo! H'htschoo!" Several more sneezes escape her before her nose finally gives her a break, and a soft irritated groan follows as you watch her rubs the tip of her nose with her thumb and forefinger in a futile attempt at quelling the itch.

When she finally looks back up, you see that she was as white as a ghost and looked alarmingly close to passing out.

"I feel like I need to lie down. I'm gonna..." Her voice quivers, sounding watery and miserable, and you were quickly on your feet. Without a word, you place an arm beneath her legs and the other around her waist before lifting her slight frame up into your arms.

"I've got you baby," you murmur as you carry her through to the bedroom and ease her down onto the unmade bed. You grab the blankets and bring them up to cover her before leaning forward to cup her cheeks. "I'm gonna go get your soup and some medicine. Don't move, okay?"

Natasha does no more than nod as she pulls away from you to sneeze again, and you sigh soft as you leave the room. You make it back only minutes later with both the soup and medicine in your grasp, and you set both items down onto the nightstand before easing yourself down onto the bed next to Natasha's legs.

You rest your hand on her thigh and softly trail it up and down, "Still woozy?"

Natasha picks her head up from the headboard and sniffles wetly. "A little," she admits, and you nod slightly as you reach for the bowl of soup. She hadn't eaten today, and that along with her stuffed sinuses was more than enough to cause the lightheadedness.

You scoop up a small amount of broth and veggies before holding it to her lips.

"I'm not a baby." She attempts to defend herself as she lightly pushes the spoon away, and you nod in understanding as you momentarily set it back into the bowl.

"I know," you reassure, "you're my girlfriend who's as badass as they come." You smile softly when you see the corners of Natasha's lips quirk up into a tentative grin.

"But right now," you reluctantly continue, "you're sick. and it's okay to let yourself be looked after. It doesn't make you any less tough and it most definitely does not make you a baby."

Though Natasha visibly hesitates, her mouth parts allowing you to feed her.

"Good girl," you murmur instinctively, and Natasha smiles almost bashfully as she accepts a second spoonful. Dinner runs smoothly with only a few sneezes and coughs, and soon enough, you were attempting to coax some cough medicine into her mouth.

Now this she was not so willing to accept.

"Come on nat. You know it'll make you feel better." You attempt to coax as you drop the hand holding the small plastic cup of cough medicine back to your lap.

Natasha let's out a hoarse cough as she looks up at you with an almost deathly glare, and with a knowing sigh, you place the medicine back down. If she didn't want to take it, than that was fine. It'd be only herself who suffers the consequences.

You crawl into bed beside her and lay yourself against the pillows before holding out your arms. Natasha stares at you warily, almost as though she was under the impression you were trying to trick her. It takes only seconds for her to realise your intentions were pure, and she curls up against your side with a quiet, wet cough.

Her chest rattles as she breaths, her chapped lips pressing a weak kiss to your neck as she lazily throws a leg over your hips. You kiss her head in response, slipping your hand beneath her hoodie and grazing your hand up and down the warm skin of her back. Your other hand comes to rest atop of her thigh, and you give the soft flesh an encouraging squeeze.

"Try and get some sleep baby," you murmur. "You'll feel better soon."

Natasha does no more than stifle a sneeze against your chest, and you find yourself sighing softly.

You knew this was going to be a long night.

*

It was a little after four in the morning when the consequence of Natasha not taking her medicine finally bite her in the butt.

She'd woken you up with her incessant coughing, cheeks red and breath hitching as she tries and fails to get oxygen into her lungs. You'd ignored her weak attempts and fighting you as you'd pinned her against your chest, grabbing the discarded medicine from earlier and promptly dumped it down her throat.

It had taken only minutes for her coughing to finally ease, but her congestion had returned with vengeance.

It's why you find yourself in the bathroom, stood in between her parted legs as she sits on the counter leaning into your embrace. The shower was running on its hottest setting, filling the room with warm steam.

"Huh'hschoo!" She tries and fails to stifle a sneeze against your shoulder, and almost silent groan of pain shooting through her as she tightens her grip around the material of your shirt.

"Bless you," you murmur, cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Natasha sniffles wetly as she all but slumps into your arms, energy gone. Feeling your own legs beginning to ache from standing up for so long, you slip your hands underneath her thighs and lift her up into your arms before easing yourself down onto the closed toilet seat. Natasha settles on your lap, head heavy against your shoulder.

Over the next hour, the red head goes through nearly a whole box of tissues. Whatever sickness this was seemed to be determined to make her feel like crap, because no matter how many times she blows her nose, the heavy congestion remains. She ends up in tears due to her pure and utter frustration, and after quietly soothing her for a few moments, you turn off the shower, grab the box of tissues and make quick but careful work of carrying her back to bed.

Sleep seems to hit her immediately, light snores escaping her parted lips as she breaths hoarsely through her mouth.

You find yourself pressing a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth before grabbing your iPad off the night stand, You'd slept long enough, and now all you wanted to do was be awake just in case she needed you.

**

Requests are welcome!

Thank you for reading!

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #sickfic #reader insert #natasha romanov #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #comfort #fluff

[once-upon-a-thigh]

The Truth

Summary: Wanda’s jealousy leads to disastrous circumstances. PERFECT LITTLE SECRET PART 2. 18+

Pairings: Fem!Reader X Milf! Wanda Maximoff, Yelena Belova X Kate Bishop X Fem!Reader (platonic), Fem! Reader X Carol Danvers (brief)

Class: Series; angst, smut

Warnings: First time writing in second person so I’m sorry for that, large age gap (18/37), mommy kink, possessiveness, strap on sex (r receiving), semi-public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, swearing, arguing.

Words: 4k

Life was easier now that your best friends knew of your secret relationship with your 37-year-old neighbour. The days were going by smoother almost now that there was less to hide. As well as, honestly, it was a relief to you that someone knew. By this point you were so incredibly infatuated with the woman it was nice to be able to express the happiness she brought out of you.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone Lena. She just makes me feel so good, and I’m not just talking sexually, Wanda makes me feel more like me than I’ve ever felt before,” you gushed, eyes drooped to the table and unable to make eye contact with the blonde.

She pulled a disgusted face. “That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” she joked, at least you hope she’s joking.

“She sounds amazing Y/n, I just wish you told us earlier,” Kate, your other friend dropped in to the conversation from the chair opposite you.

“I know,” you whined, “but I had no choice, the least amount of people that know, the better. I can’t imagine what my parents would think if they found out.” You shuddered at the thought.

“Maybe they’ll be fine with it!” The sprightly brunette chimed.

“Don’t be an idiot Kate, what would your mother do if you were in the same situation?” Yelena rebutted.

“Probably throw me down the stairs-“ The three of you jumped when Kate’s sentence was interrupted by the slam of a book on the table.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you three to be quiet?” The librarian hissed, leering over you.

“Maybe just one more time?” Yelena chortled, however her laugh cut suddenly when she met the woman’s pierced eyes.

“Get out,” she hissed, causing the three of you to stand and pack your things hastily and rush out of the library, bumping shoulders along the way.

After giggling over the fact that none of you got any of your work done whilst you were there, you said goodbye before attempting to rush off towards the waiting car outside the gate. However, you were stopped when the pair tightened their grip on your linked arms.

“Any chance your lady friend could give us a lift to your street? We’ll walk from there.” The Russian batted her eyelashes.

“I don’t know guys, we can’t bring too much attention to ourselves…”

“We’ll be careful! Pleeeeeease!” Kate shook your arm, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, I’ll ask.” You gave in, shaking yourself out of their hold and jogging to the car.

Opening the passenger door, you couldn’t help the grin that instantly arose when you leaned down to see the woman.

“Hey sweet girl.” Her raspy use of the pet name sent shivers down your spine, reminding you of the many times she had used the term of endearment when praising you for the way you moved back your hips to me the rapid thrusts of hers.

“Hiii…” You giggled girlishly, instantly turned shy under her intense stare. “So my friends are wondering if you could drop them off on our street.” You scratched the back of your neck nervously, worried she wouldn’t be fond of the idea.

“Yelena and Kate?” She wondered, biting her lip in thought when you nodded to confirm. “Okay, but they’ve got to keep it down when they get out of the car. We don’t need any nosy neighbours getting in our business.”

“Okay! Thank you.” You clapped your hands happily, and Wanda practically melted at the sight of you being so excited over something so simple. She would do anything for you if it meant she could make you that happy.

You leaned down to lay a kiss on her warm cheek before jogging back to your friends who were playfully trying to tackle each other in the car park.

“Okay dorks, she said you can come but you have to be quiet when we get in the neighbourhood.”

Saluting you, Kate joined your side as you began to make your way back to the car. Yelena however, was stuck glaring at a short-haired blonde waving excitedly in your direction.

“Y/n! Wait up!” Turning towards the call, you noticed Carol Danvers, captain of the softball team and your chemistry partner, making her way towards you.

“God, not this mopho.” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Quit it, she’s nice,” you reprimanded.

“She’s a stupid jock.” You shushed her reply just as Carol, who obviously heard the comment, stopped in front of you with a glare in the Russian’s direction. Her glare dropped instantly when she looked at you however, instead being replaced with a shy smile.

“Hey captain,” you cheeked, watching as red arose to her cheeks in embarrassment, you’re guessing.

“Hi Y/n, I was wondering if you’re still alright with me coming over today so we can work on the project?” She questioned, reminding you of the chemistry project Miss Harkness had set.

“Oh crap yeah, I totally forgot about that. Sorry.” You both laughed nervously. “But yeah, I’m fine with that.”

“Okay cool, do you just wanna…” she gestured back at her truck, hinting that she would drive you both back to your house to begin the project.

“Oh, actually my, uh, neighbour is driving back my friends and I today. But I’ll text you my address and I’ll meet you there in like an hour?” You almost slipped, having to restrain yourself from referring to Wanda as your girlfriend like you had been around Yelena and Kate for the last week since they found out about your relationship.

“Oh sure!” She nodded sheepishly, clumsily taking a couple steps back towards her truck. “So I’ll see you in an hour?”

“She did just say that blondie,” Yelena drawled.

“But Lena, you’re blonde..” Kate whispered.

Shushing them with your index finger in the air, you nodded kindly at Carol, waving her off with your other hand.

Shouting one last goodbye, you finally approached the car with your friends in tow.

Wanda stayed broodingly quiet when you gave her a peck on the cheek. “Sorry for the wait baby.”

She tapped the wheel with one finger, watching in the rear view mirror as your friends settled themselves in the back of the car.

“Thank you for the ride Miss Maximoff!” Kate politely voiced.

“Mmhm.” She hummed mindlessly, still staring into the rear view mirror.

“Wanda?” You verbalised, looking at her expectantly as she still hadn’t started the car.

“Who was that?” She questioned, still not breaking her gaze from the mirror as she began to drive off. She watched the blonde in the varsity jacket grin as she kept glancing at the car you had disappeared into.

“Who? Carol?” Your eyebrows bunched, completely confused at the woman’s interest in the jock.

“Don’t you mean Captain?” Kate joked, leaning her head in between the front seats and making kissy faces in your direction.

You pushed her back with a hand to her face, shaking your head. “It embarrasses her, it’s funny.” You shrugged.

“No, it turns her on.” Yelena let out a loud laugh.

“What?” Wanda barked. You took hold of the ‘Oh Jesus handle’ as she unintentionally sped up down the street.

“W-what? No-“ You blush, attempting to redeem yourself from the flirting you had inadvertently been taking part in.

“Face it Y/n, the idiot has been trying to get in your pants ever since you grew an ass.” The blonde grinned, leaning back in her seat and watching on as Wanda’s grip on the wheel turned whiter by the second.

You sputtered trying to come up with a reply, before settling with a grumbling “shut up.”

The rest of the drive home was silent other than the quiet music flowing through the radio. As soon as Wanda settled the car into her driveway, the duo in the back seats were clambering out, muttering their goodbyes. As soon as they left, Wanda grabbed hold of your neck and pulled you against her. Teeth clashed as she moved her lips against yours hastily, forcing every bit of resentment she held for the blonde she never met into the kiss.

Taking hold of the hair at the back of your head, she pulled you back so you were staring up at her uncomfortably. You didn’t mind though, as you were too busy imagining all the punishments she would possibly induce if it wasn’t for her boys being home from school.

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” she hissed, cupping your chin and squeezing your cheeks.

“Open your mouth,” she ordered firmly as you resisted her efforts. Giving in to her demand, your mouth dropped open. She smirked deviantly before spitting directly on your tongue. She tapped your chin until you closed your mouth, smearing the spit that missed across your lips with her ring-clad thumb. “Swallow.”

You did so instantly, making her laugh devilishly. “That’s my good girl. You would never want anyone other than your mommy to take care of you, would you?”

Her grip loosened enough for you shake your head dumbly.

“Words,” she spat.

“No mommy,” you muttered.

“Good girl. I want you to come over tomorrow whilst the boys are with their father.” She brushed her thumb over your blushed cheek softly. It was a command, but that didn’t irk you.

“Okay,” you smiled excitedly, “is 2pm okay?”

“Perfect.” She kissed you softly, with a gentleness that was completely opposite to the possessiveness she has previously displayed.

———————————————-

After taking a chilling shower to cool yourself down following your lover’s teasing, you hastily ran around your room picking up clothing and clearing space on your desk ready for your guest. Hearing the ring of the doorbell, you surveyed your room carefully to ensure there was nothing embarrassing around before making your way to the front door.

“Carol, hey!” You greeted, moving aside so the softball player could step inside. You led the nervous blonde to your room, thoroughly warning her of the mess before she could step inside. Your pestering over the mess was enough to distract you from the attentive gaping from the woman across the road.

Soon the two of you were sat on your bed cross-legged facing each other, open books between you and nothing written down.

“I really think using marbles in class is a bad idea, what if we drop them all?” You laugh, imagining your grumpy teacher finally slipping in those heels.

“But think about how much better it’ll be to display the types of bonding compared to a PowerPoint, which you know everyone is going to do,” she tilted her head at you, leaning forward and smiling teasingly.

“I guess you’re right,” you huff. Despite the boring context, you found yourself enjoying Carol’s company. You were happy to expand your friendship group beyond dumb and dumber. Carol is outgoing, kind, funny, leaning in startlingly close to your face, wait what?

Chapped lips meet yours gently, unmoving. Carol was cautious with the kiss, pulling back when she didn’t feel you melt in to it like she hoped you would.

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, seemingly shocked by her own actions. “I just- I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I really like you Y/n.”

You couldn’t help but flush at the revelation.

“Oh, Carol. I’m sorry but I’m actually seeing someone,” you frowned apologetically.

“Oh. Who? If you don’t mind me asking?” Carol felt a surge of jealousy, clenching her fists in an attempt to keep control of her emotions. You were Y/n, and so she remained as polite as possible whilst avoiding eye contact.

You bit your lip, wondering if you should tell the truth or not. You decided against it, not wanting to risk your relationship. “You don’t know her, she doesn’t go to our school.”

She laughed, getting up from the bed and shaking out her tense muscles. “Well maybe I’ll see her at varsity then if we’re playing against her school. Maybe then I can fight for your hand.” She winked teasingly, though you sensed a little truth in her words.

The atmosphere was quite awkward after that interaction, and so you gave her her section of the work and promised to buy the marbles for your presentation.

After she had left with an awkward one-armed hug to say goodbye, you couldn’t help the guilt that began to reside. You hadn’t kissed Carol back, and you know you don’t have feelings for her. But you didn’t push her away. You narrowed it down to the shock and confusion that led to you being so slow to react, but you still felt telling Wanda about what happened was the right thing to do.

———————————————————

It was time to go see Wanda, and it was an understatement to say you were nervous. Usually you would be ecstatic to go see your lover, but an angry Wanda was not usually something to look forward to, and a part of you couldn’t help the terrifying thoughts of her leaving you.

“Hello? Wanda?” You called out after helping yourself into the house.

“Up here babygirl!” You heard her raspy voice ring from up the stairs. She sounded like she was in a good mood, you couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

Making your way up the stairs towards the master bedroom, you gave yourself a mental pep talk to prepare yourself for her wrath. With one last deep breathe, you pushed open the bedroom door to see the beauty rifling through her closet.

Closing the doors, she made her way towards you and reached for your hips, tugging your body against hers instantly.

“I was just sorting through the closet to make room for some of your stuff for when you stay over more during the summer,” she grinned. The boys were going to a summer camp for the summer holidays, and so you planned a number of sleepovers. Her brunette hair tickled your cheeks as she leaned down to capture your lips in her own, however despite her cuteness you couldn’t help but let the feeling of guilt grow. Turning your head at the last second, her puckered lips pressed against your cheek chastely.

Pulling back, eyebrows furrowed, her concerned gaze shot at your heart.

“What’s wrong detka?” Her lips pout.

Pulling away from her, you took a seat on the edge of the bed. Reading the serious atmosphere, Wanda took a seat next to you.

“Okay so,” you paused. “Carol came over last night to walk on a chemistry project with me, because we’re partners.”

Wanda’s jaw clenched and her fists turned white. Though she nodded, as if she already knew.

Despite her obvious detest of the blonde, you carried on. “And, I don’t know what happened but apparently the girls were right about that crush she may or may not have on me…”

“What happened?” Her voice gritted through her teeth. The woman was ready to get in her car and find the dumb jock herself.

“She kissed me.”

Wanda stood up, hands gripping her hair as she seethed.

“It meant nothing, I didn’t even kiss back!” You retaliated, shaking your leg nervously.

You were expecting yelling and swearing. However, Wanda’s rigid back relaxed as she let out a long sigh. The strong hands entwined with her hair moved down her face until they dropped to her sides. Turning around after a minute, she dropped to her knees and braced her hands on your legs.

“Shh, relax baby. I’m not mad at you.” She brushed her thumb against one of your cheeks, calming your worried panting.

“You’re not?” Your eyes turned watery in relief.

“No, it’s not your fault you’re so damn enticing. And I know you would never disrespect mommy like that, would you?” Her resting hands began to grip your thighs.

“No mommy, never.” You shook your head desperately, eager to please.

“That’s my good girl.” A smile rose on your face at the praise. Who knew you would be let off this easily?

“But..” Oh. “I think you still need to be reminded of who you belong to.”

A gasp escaped you when she took hold of your sides and pulled you up from the bed. Fast as lightning she had your clothes off of you and was pressing your chest against the cold window, causing your nipples to perk up painfully. You stayed in that position like a good girl as she moved around behind you, following her rules. However, as you looked at your parents car parked at the quiet house across the street, you grew nervous.

“Wa- mommy, what if someone sees?” You caught yourself before making the mistake of using her name, one that would surely result in a punishment.

She leans over you, you gasp when you feel her naked chest pressed against your back and something solid prodding between your legs.

She chuckles. “What? Are you worried about everyone seeing what a whore you are for your mommy?”

You merely whimper in response, mind turning dumb as you lean your hips back to gain some friction against her strap.

“Look at you, falling apart for my cock.” Wanda took hold of your hair, arching your head back so she can whisper seductively in your ear.

At this moment, you no longer cared about who could possibly walk past and see you. All you wanted was Wanda. “Please.”

She moved a hand down to grip her strap, running the head through your already soaked folds. “Did you beg like this for that bitch you saw yesterday too, slut?” She thrusted against you slightly, causing the head to prod at your hole.

“N-no mommy! I promise!” Your eyes filled with tears as you felt your hole gradually be filled by the thick shaft.

“You’re mine,” she grunted as she filled you with a quick buck of her hips. You screamed at the intrusion, but her pace did not falter. She thrusted assertively, ploughing into you with intent on driving the idea of her ownership into you.

“Fuck!” She grunted, laying a hard slap on your ass as she continued to drive her hips against you. “You like this slut?” She panted from behind you.

“Yes mommy,” you squealed when she pulled out of you and flipped you around, grabbing under your thighs and pulling you up onto her muscular waist. The faux cock pushed into you again. She bucked short and fast thrusts into you, the sound of skin slapping filled the room alongside your loud moans.

One hand cupped your ass whilst the other reached up to grip your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. “Look at me,” she demanded.

Your glazed eyes met her fiery ones, your mouth dropped open whilst she bit her bottom lip to keep her grunts in.

The coil in your stomach began to unravel as her thrusting did not relent. Her hips began to stutter as you came, your walls sucking the cock inside you further. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You whimpered.

Wanda moaned as she too began to reach her peak. Pressing herself against you, she dropped her head on your shoulder as she ground against you, driving you further into the window. Glancing up from your glistening skin as she came, she made eye contact with the same blonde she had seen earlier standing on your porch. The older woman grinned as the blonde dropped the flowers she was holding onto the ground, walking away in a strop. Her thrusts slowed as she laid a delicate kiss on your shoulder before pulling out the piece and lowering your shaky legs to the ground.

Your knees immediately buckled, but her strong arms supported you. Carrying you over to the bed, she lowered you gently with a forgiving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered.

—— the next day ——

You were sat at home on a Sunday night, watching tv alone and missing your lover. Wanda’s kids had just got back that evening, and so you couldn’t stay over without raising suspicion. Plus, your parents would never let you sleep over at “Yelena’s” on a school night.

“Y/n, your mother and I are going to visit a friend that has been having some problems, we probably won’t be back until you’re asleep.” Your dad rounded the sofa to speak to you, shrugging on his jacket.

“Oh, okay.” You feigned a frown, instead excited to use the excuse to see Wanda. It’s not often she gets to visit your room.

“Bye sweetheart,” your mother waved as she left the house. For some reason, you felt her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The thought was pushed to the back of your mind however when your head flooded with images of Wanda sinfully lying in your bed.

Watching your dad’s car leave the drive, you were quick to shoot Wanda a text.

Parents have gone out for a few hours, are the boys asleep? - Y/n

I’ll be right over. - Wanda

She didn’t take much convincing of course. Before you knew it, the woman was pushing you down onto the family couch, suffocating you with her lustful kisses. Soft moans left the both of you as your hands travelled along the curves of the other. You had only touched her yesterday, and yet you just couldn’t get enough.

Your hands were just slipping under the hem of her shirt when you were forced to break away at the sound of the front door slamming against the wall.

“Mum, Dad,” your eyes widened as your parents walked into the room, disappointment clear on their face.

Wanda jumped up from the couch, straightening out her clothes as she cleared her throat. “Darren, Mindy, it’s not-“

“Shut it cougar!” Your mother interrupted.

“Oh god,” you whined embarrassed, dropping your head into your hands.

“Y/n, how could you let yourself be manipulated by this woman? What you have been doing is completely unacceptable,” she continued.

“We haven’t been doing anything!” You wailed, tears beginning to drop over your flushed cheeks.

“Oh please, don’t lie to us. Your friend told us about what she saw.” Your father pointed at you, his finger shaking in fury as his face scrunched up in disgust towards the end of his claim.

The comment confused you, there was no way Yelena or Kate would say anything about your relationship with your neighbour.

“Friend?” Before either of your parents could settle your curiosity, the blonde jock who had recently kissed you walked into the house nervously.

“Carol? What?” You looked at her disturbed, how did she know?

“I’m sorry Y/n,” she wrung her fingers together nervously. “But I had to show you that what this woman is doing to you is wrong,” she gestured towards the woman, who was growing angrier by the minute.

“You little-“ Before Wanda could continue with her insult, you turned to her, tears further clouding your vision as you began to realise just what had happened.

“She saw us?” You questioned, confirming your parents suspicions. “You let her see us? How could you do that.” How could she put your relationship in jeopardy like that?

She turned her full attention to you, attempting to step in your direction but was faltered when your father drew closer to her. “Baby, I’m sorry I just needed her to see that you are mine-“

Your mother scoffed, “don’t you dare call her that. You’re disgusting, she is a child!”

“Mum! I’m not a child, I’m 18,” you declared firmly, crossing your arms.

“You’re not even finished with school yet Y/n, this woman is sick, and is using you for her disgusting sexual gratification.”

“It’s not like that,” Wanda butted in, ignoring the menacing look your father is yet to drop. “I love her.”

Your heart soared, but you couldn’t enjoy the moment with your parents staring you down.

“I want you to leave my house, and never return,” your father blocked her view of you as he took another threatening step towards her. “If I ever see you around my daughter again, I will be telling everyone in town about what you have done. You will be a disgrace, your sons will never look at you the same again.”

You could see Wanda’s attempt at bravery falter, you immediately began to sob. This great love was over. Taking a step back, she walked out of the house quietly, with one last longing look in your direction, beautiful green eyes filled with tears.

———————————————

Sorry it took so long! I haven’t had a moment to myself. Hope you enjoyed.

Love, Meg xx

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel women #marvel #marvel smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff fanfic #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers

[2frosty4you]

Fem reader accidentally flustering the mercs by something she did or said and not understanding why (merc) is so flushed and stumbling over his words? :3

Flustering the mercs [Drabbles]

Fem Reader flustering the mercs :3

| Masterlist | ask/request box | Words: 1090 |

i had to stop myself from just continuing some of these 😭😭😭

Also using tumblr on mobile 😭😭😭

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Scout:

You grab his arm and pull him back to cover as a bullet remains where his head was.

“Jesus christ scout at least be careful”

“i - “

He’s speechless, your hand still gripped around his wrist. You look angry with him, but the feeling of your touch on his wrist makes him red, you drop his hand.

“You aight there?”

“Yes! yeah i- i could’ve totally avoided that without ya y’know aha”

He would quickly spit out, messing up words as you raise an eyebrow as he stumbles and runs around the corner. Heart beating fast and his face red.

Soldier:

Im sorry but soldier does NOT get flustered, but you make his heart beat widely when you talk with his racoons in a baby voice,

“Awww aint ya cuties, whats your names huh”

“Sergeant Smith, the one with the medal is lieutenant bites

“what cuties they all are”

He says with speed as you nuzzle the raccoon and baby talk it while laughing, he’s staring for a while before you look up to him.

“You okay solly?”

“Affirmative!”

His heart is widely beating as you treat his pets like your own, giving them food while you think he isn’t looking and always happy to see them when he takes them into base. (even if medic hates them)

Pyro:

They laugh and clap as you flick open a lighter to show them the hello kitty lighter you had bought.

“See! its a pink flame, isn’t that cool!?”

“mpHmH!”

“Anyway this is for you anyway, gotta go see medic; dont burn the place down!”

You toss them the lighter, and wave.

Pyro sits there, holding the lighter in their hands as their face is a bright red under their mask. Laughing as their body buzzed and felt her hands move to flicker the lighter

Happy knowing it came from you.

Demoman:

“Yeah, an she carried your drunk ass to bed; what a sight HA”

Scout teased, demoman’s face flushed red as you walk in. Waving.

“Hey you three, what's up?”

“Tellin ol’ demo here how he ended up back in his bed”

“Yeah! an look at the drunkard”

His face was a dark red, a. hot feeling radiating as he grummbled and burried his head in his arms.

“Hm? oh yeah did you drink the water i left you?”

“y-yah”

He mutters, you raise an eyebrow but the other two men laugh to themselves as demo grumbles into his arms.

Heavy:

A bowl of hot soup laid before heavy, you standing with a white apron tied around you with a smile.

“What are you waiting for? taste it”

He takes the spoon, blows on the soup and takes a sip. His eyes widen as he feels the taste of his mothers soup on his tongue.

“Does it taste right? not sure if i got it all correct, russian is hard for me to read”

You smile, he coughs softy. Nodding, face a soft pink as you stand like a sun in the kitchen.

“Da, its like how my mother used to cook”

He stumbles over a few words, yet you look at him with a tiled head and a bowl of your own.

Engineer:

Engi had been tinkering on his sentry all night, large bags under his eyes as you place down a place of cut red apples with a bottle of juice.

“Engi, eat something”

“I- oh thanks darlin”

He would say with a smile, face red as he ate. You standing there with crossed arms.

“Take a break soon, we need you tomorrow”

Your small act of affection causes him to stutter and laugh softly, scratching the back of his neck slowly sipping the juice you gave him. Looking over his blueprints, just waiting there for him to finish and take a break.

Medic:

It was a hectic battle so far, medic was tired healing the scout and not noticing the enemy demoman behind him he dropped his gun and readied for the impact of sword against his neck, when it didn’t come and the sound of a body dropping make him look up.

You turn back to him with blood dripping from your face and body.

“You okay doc? He didn’t hurt ya did he?”

“i- nien- nien he didnt”

He’s red, standing there staring at you as you look feral with the demoman’s blood soaking into your clothes and skin,

“Doc? ya there?”

He stumbles over his words as he holds his medigun close, waving to you as he speeds away to go heal heavy who was yelling for him. Almost tripping over his feet as he couldn't remove the image of you from his mind.

Sniper:

Sniper grunts, holding the wound on his arm. The blood bleeding through his fingers as you come around the corner, head perking as you walk back.

“Snipes?? what happened jesus,”

“nothin nothin”

He bites back a groan of pain as he went to grab the med back, you kneel before him.

“Snipes move your hand, jesus what even happened”

“its foin, its nothIN-“

He takes a sharp breath in, and with a delicate touch you move it, which feels like electricity through his body you take the hand holding the wound and place it down.

His face was growing a thick red, heat radiating from his cheeks as he looks away from you, treating his wound like glass even if both of you were war criminals.

Making quick work of the bullet wound, you wipe your hands on your pants and look at his red face.

“Aight, should be good. I’ll get medic to heal ya if we come through”

“tha, thanks mate”

“Try not to get hit again”

Spy:

It takes a lot to fluster the spy, but with you?

You grabbed the spy's arm, pulling him down as a soldier walked past you two. The two of you cramped against each other behind the crate, him in for lap with his two lanky legs just strewn around you two.

His face is red under his mask, breath quicking as he faces away from you.

You look up, and then push him up.

“Be careful, next time i ain't saving you”

“oui, merci,”

His words slip into french as his feet stumble and you catch him before falling.

“What, are you sick? Is that why your head is out of the game?”

“no, non, its nothing ami, merci for hiding me”

He cloaks and quickly leaves as his face was red and his head was clouded with you. As you stood there, a confused look on your face as you kill the other spy.

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#↪⋆GhosyFrost #↪⋆Tf2 #↪⋆GhostyWrites #↪⋆Requests #↪⋆GhostyDrabbles #Sniper #sniper x reader #tf2 #tf2 x reader #reader x tf2 #fem reader #tf2 heavy #tf2xreader #tf2 spy #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 soldier #x reader #team fortress 2 #medic x reader #spy x reader #heavy x reader #pyro x reader #engineer x reader #demoman x reader #soldier x reader #team fortress #team fortress two x reader #↪⋆2frosty4you

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

sconc middle names but me and cori are stupidt

last night me and cori got slap-happy and made a list of characters’ middle names so happy birthday sonic enjoy. tw catholicism jokes bc when we get slap happy we end up on that train

Sonic: His middle name is actually not Maurice. He won’t tell anyone what it is but it isn’t Maurice. Not in the “noooo it’s totally not ;)” way he legit doesnt know where anyone got that misconception from

Metal Sonic: His middle name IS Maurice. That’s where people got that misconception from

Tails: When he and sonic were filling out paperwork to make sure he legally existed Tails realized he didn’t know his middle name and could reasonably put “Tails.” Instead he put “Terminator”

rouge, losing it: oh my god are you serious tails: i was like five and thought it was cool sonic: you were right 

Knuckles: He literally doesn’t care so once again when filling out paperwork he’s like.

knuckles: so i guess my last name would be my tribe shadow: the knuckles tribe? knuckles: yeah shadow: so you’re putting down knuckles knuckles knuckles: yeah probably shadow: so what’s your middle name? knuckles: well take a fucking guess buddy

Amy: Also picked her own name. Debated between “Amy” and “Rosy” for a while before sticking with “Amy Rose”– rose for the pretty flower she loves and its symbolism, “Amy” because it means “much loved” and she’s desperate for affection. and then she well. picked a middle name that sounded cool

shadow: oh my god tell me your middle name isn’t “terminator” too amy: oh my gosh no amy: amy: it’s velociraptor shadow: oh my god amy: JURASSIC PARK JUST CAME OUT I WAS HYPED

Shadow: We had two (2) options: #1.) It’s something extremely Catholic like Clementinus. It doesn’t fit his brand so he just doesn’t tell anyone. also he can’t pronounce it. #2.) It’s like a deep, guttural screech/roar. Everyone assumes it was Black Doom’s name for him but no that was Gerald’s idea actually

Rouge: Francisca. Shadow was like “oh something really catholic as well” “actually my family were very much not catholic that’s just a funny coincidence.”

Omega: Terminator. Stole the idea from Tails

Cream:

Blaze: She has like 48 middle names cause she’s royalty and they’re like that

Silver: “In the future we don’t have middle names. We ate them for sustenance.”

Vector: ALSO something extremely Catholic like Benedict or someshit

Espio: “A ninja’s secret name is to stay absolutely secret. It is the key to their identity. Their soul. None shall know of it.” He picked his own middle name and it was SasuNaru and he’s embarrassed about it.

Charmy: Vector named him so it is also EXTREMELY Catholic. Charmy cannot remember it. “It’s VALENTINE, Charmy!! It’s literally one of the easiest Saints to remember!! Saint VALENTINE!!” “look i made a necklace out of gummy worms :D”

Mighty: it’s something like super normal like Evan or Thomas

Ray: Sunshine :D

Fang: It’s actually Nack. whudda think

Bean: And similar to Fang, it’s ACTUALLY “Dynamite.” Did he name himself? You’ll never know.

Bark: Something super Russian like Vladimir

Big: Big has no middle name he has no last name he is too powerful for all of us

Tikal:

Tikal: yeah we didn’t have middle or surnames in my time. Closest was just “oh that’s Pachacamac’s kid.” Tails: Okay but you need a middle name for paperwork so pick something Tikal: Termi-- Knuckles: No. Tikal: Okay. Lesbian

Jet: Tony. you know why

Marine: It’s just literally “Australian”

Sticks: “Classified.” Everyone is like “oh geez Sticks ok” and don’t realize her middle name is literally Classified

Surge: When she got to pick hers she picked Azula for obvious reasons

Kit: He picked “Surge.”

Belle: Periwinkle

Sage: Ann Ima. believe it or not, that is also. Catholic™

Tekno: Terminator

#sth #sonic squad #mine

[geekfanficwriter]

I Want You to Want Me- Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ever since Robin came out to you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Words: 2.9k Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minor dni), oral (f! recieving), fingering, slight dom! reader, language, mentions of homophobia

Author’s Note: I should probably be working on my Eddie fic but I had this idea and had to write it.

Ever since Robin had come out to you, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. It had been after being drugged by the Russians. Steve had confessed her feelings for her and she had told him that she liked girls, all while you had sat there in silence. You should’ve said something there and then. About however since you had started working at Scoops Ahoy you had thought she was the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. About how the sailor uniform that would look ridiculous on anyway else looked so hot on her. Even if you could’ve told her that you also liked girls without admitting your feelings. But instead, you kept quiet, not even the drugs in your system making you admit your biggest secret. Now the two of you, alongside Steve, worked at the Family Video store and you spent every single shift trying to not stare too much at her. Your feelings for her were a million times stronger than they had been previously knowing that she also liked girls. You wanted to say something and it got harder to keep quiet every day but you couldn’t. She thought you liked boys and even if she knew you didn’t even know if she would like you. It was best if you kept quiet about your feelings. ‘Well, that was hilarious to watch.’ You laughed as another girl walked out of the store after rejecting Steve. ‘What’s that? The fifth this week?’ Robin laughed along with you. ‘Yeah, and it’s only Tuesday.’ You grabbed a couple of videos and walked over to the shelves, placing them out. ‘I don’t know why you two are laughing. You’re both even more hopeless than me. Besides, I have a date this evening.’ ‘Okay, first of all, we’re meant to be having a movie night at mine this evening. Second of all, why are you hitting on girls if you have a date?’ You spoke, jumping up to sit on the counter. ‘Keeping my options open and I’m afraid the two of you will have to spend time together without me.’ You were freaking out. You hadn’t been alone with Robin before, well not since you had found out she liked girls. ‘Oh, okay.’ Your voice came out higher than normal. ‘I don’t have to come over Y/N. I can reschedule if you want Steve there.’ God, if Robin could tell that you were freaked out with her ability to pick up on social cues then it must be obvious. ‘No, no it’s good.’ You nearly ran when you heard the door open and a customer came but Steve beat you, helping the customer first. ‘Are you sure you’re okay with hanging out alone with me?’ Robin asked. ‘Yeah, honestly, it’s totally cool.’ ‘You sure cause ever since the thing with the Russians you’ve been distant with me and I understand why. It’s uncomfortable for you to be around someone who likes girls. But I promise I won’t-‘ ‘Robin, no I promise that’s not it.’ You hated the idea that Robin thought you hated her for being gay. That was worse than anything else. You’d rather her know the truth than think you were disgusted by her. ‘Are you sure? Because you just seemed really freaked out by me.’ ‘Robin, I’m not. I really promise that I would never be grossed out by you.’ You jumped off the counter and placed your hand on her arm. ‘Look, we can discuss this at mine later. I’ll let you pick the movie, we can even watch one of those artsy foreign films you like. And I’ll pay for snacks.’ ‘Yeah. That sounds good.’

You left 10 minutes before your shift ended to go get snacks for you and Robin. You grabbed a bunch of different stuff, making sure to grab both your's and Robin’s favourite snacks. You walked back over to Family Video as Robin and Steve were locking up. ‘I got all the good snacks. So what film did you pick?’ You asked walking over, holding up the grocery bag. ‘Suspiria. I figured I’d pick something we’d both like.’ ‘A mix of artsy and horror. Perfect.’ It was true that it was perfect for the two of you. You loved horror films whereas Robin loved arthouse cinema and you felt like any film that combined the two was practically made for the two of you. It was just an added plus that Suspiria was one of your favourite films. You walked over to your car which was parked next to Steve’s and opened the passenger door for Robin. ‘See you tomorrow, Steve. Don’t completely fuck up your date.’ Robin said climbing into the car. ‘Yeah, I won’t. Have fun you two.’

The car journey was completely silent, both you and Robin thinking about the conversation that the two of you were going to have. Should you tell her the full truth? Or would it just be easier to tell her that you also liked girls and leave it at that? Then again that wouldn’t explain why were avoiding her. Maybe you could just avoid the conversation altogether and watch the film and pretend like everything was okay. You pulled up in front of your house and jumped out of the car, grabbing the grocery bag from the back seat. You unlocked the door and walked inside, holding the door open for Robin. ‘My parents are out for the night so we can use the TV in the lounge.’ You walked through to the lounge and indicated for Robin to sit on the couch while you put the film in the VHS player. ‘Y/N.’ Robin said, the tone of her voice apprehensive. ‘Yeah.’ You turned around from the TV to look at her. She had taken off her jacket and work tie and she looked absolutely beautiful, perched on your couch with her legs crossed. ‘You said you were going to tell me what’s going on. And I just want to know what’s going on. I felt like we were becoming close friends and then you suddenly started acting weird. And you say it’s not because I’m gay but I can’t think of any other reason you’d be acting this way.’ Robin was rambling now and you felt guilty that you had caused her this much distress. You stood up and walked over to her. You sat next to her and took her hands into your own. ‘Robin. I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you. It’s nothing to do with you, I’ve just had a lot on my mind and it’s been throwing me through a loop. I just- I guess I.’ You sighed and let go of Robin’s hands, turning around so you weren’t facing her. ‘What are you doing?’ Robin asked, laughing slightly. ‘I just can’t look at you while I say this.’ You took a deep breath and started to speak. ‘The reason I’ve been acting weird since we were drugged is because of what you said, but it’s not because I think it’s disgusting. It’s because I’m the same. I also like girls and I’ve never told anyone because I was afraid, I am afraid. But that’s not the only reason I acted weird around you. It was because I don’t just like girls, I like one specific girl. She’s so smart, like incredibly smart. And she’s funny and she likes these movies that make no sense but I would watch them a million times just to spend time with her. And she’s so beautiful even in that stupid sailor’s uniform that she had to wear. Ever since the first time I saw her in it I wanted to kiss her and be with her but I didn’t think it would ever happen.’ You stopped speaking, still not turning round to look at her. You just stared ahead at the wall until you felt a hand on your shoulder. ‘Y/N, can you look at me?’ You turned around and faced Robin who had tears in her eyes. ‘Robin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make you cry.’ You panicked, you thought maybe she might reject you but you didn’t think she’d cry. ‘Y/N, I’m crying cause I’m happy. I thought you were avoiding me because you hated me and I didn’t want you hating me because I like you. A lot.’ ‘You like me?’ You smiled. You couldn’t believe that Robin actually liked you. ‘Yeah. I mean you’re cool and funny and you listen to amazing music. Not to mention how beautiful you are, your hair, your eyes.’ You couldn’t take it anymore. Robin was so close to you and she looked so perfect so you leant over and kissed her. You felt her kiss back and butterflies erupted in your stomach at how soft her lips were. She wrapped her hands around your neck pulling you on top of her as she lay flat on the couch. You slid your hand under her shirt leaving it on the smooth skin of her hip. You pulled away from her slightly, moving your lips to her neck and leaving small kisses all over. ‘That tickles.’ She laughed her voice coming out raspy. ‘Sorry, you’re just so beautiful.’ You said kissing her lightly on the mouth. You moved your hands up to her shirt. ‘Is this alright?’ She nodded slightly and you started unbuttoning her shirt. You leaned down, kissing her, sliding your tongue into her mouth as you continued to undo the buttons on her shirt. Once you reached the last button you moved your hands back up to her breasts, squeezing them through her bra. You felt her hands move down and grab your ass. You moved your hips, grinding slightly on the leg that was between yours, the friction causing you to moan. Robin moved her hands up, pulling your shirt up. You disconnected your lips for a moment as she pulled your shirt over your head. You reached your hands back and undid your bra throwing it on the floor. ‘Wow.’ She said looking down at your bare breasts. You felt yourself blush under her gaze and moved your head down to kiss in between her breasts. You heard her lightly moan as you moved your mouth over, kissing all around where her bra sat. You pushed your leg up, moving it against her clothed pussy. The movement caused some relief for you as your own cunt ground against her leg. You pulled the cup of her bra down and moved your mouth to her nipple, flicking it with your tongue before taking it into your mouth. Robin’s moans spurred you on, the sound making you want to keep pleasuring her. ‘You sound so perfect, baby’ You removed your mouth from her breast and kissed her stomach resting your head there while you undid her jeans. ‘Lift up your hips.’ She did as you asked and you pulled down both her trousers and underwear leaving her completely bare in front of you. You moved your hand down, kissing her stomach again and you run your hand over her pussy, feeling how wet she was. ‘Is this all for me?’ You asked, moving your fingers up to your mouth, tasting Robin on them. ‘Yes.’ She let out a breathy moan, watching you as you sucked on your fingers. You moved your head back up, leaning down to kiss Robin, her juices still on your tongue. Your hand snaked down her stomach, moving to rub her clit. She let out a loud moan against your mouth causing you to smile and you moved your hand in circles. You felt her moving her hips against your hand, begging for more. ‘Tell me what you want, baby.’ You mumbled against her lips, continuing to move your fingers. ‘Y/N.’ She moaned, her head leaning back against the pillow being you. You moved your lips down to her exposed neck, biting down lightly, before sucking gently. You stop moving your hand, leaving it completely still against her. ‘I’m not going to continue if you don’t tell me what you want.’ She groaned slightly, her hips rubbing against your hand. ‘I want your fingers.’ She moaned out. ‘Where do you want them, Robin?’ You moved your hand that wasn’t on her pussy to her breast, squeezing and pinching her nipple. ‘Inside me, please.’ She begged you and you obliged, slipping one finger inside her causing her to moan loudly. You moved your finger in and out adding another one as you felt her walls clench around you. You curled your fingers inside her as you continued to move them. ‘I love the feeling of your pussy, babe.’ You told her, gaining a moan in response. You moved your thumb up to play with clit, flicking it lightly as your finger continued to move in and out of her. You pushed yourself against her leg, needing some release of your own. Watching Robin underneath you, her head thrown back, her mouth open in pleasure, it was better than anything you’d ever seen. She was absolutely perfect. You continued to kiss all over her neck and breasts as you felt her hands dig into your thighs, gripping the fabric of your jeans. You could tell she was close as you kept moving your hand at a steady pace. ‘Are you going to cum for me, baby?’ You asked her. She nodded and you moved her lips to hers kissing her furiously. You felt her legs shake slightly under you as she clenched around your fingers. She threw her head back in a loud moan and came all over your hand. You slowed your pace down, still moving your hand as she came down from her orgasm. You pulled your fingers out of her as she shook beneath you breathing heavily. You moved your fingers into your mouth, tasting her properly this time, moaning at the taste on your tongue. ‘That was amazing.’ She whispered, pulling you down to her and kissing you. ‘Sit up.’ She told you. You followed her instructions, sitting up on the couch. She pulled herself out from underneath you, kneeling in front of you on the floor. ‘What are you doing?’ You asked looking down at her. ‘Repaying the favour.’ She grabbed your legs and pulled you towards the edge of the couch. She kissed your thighs lightly, undoing your jeans as she moved her head up. She gripped the edge of your jeans and you lifted your hips up slightly as she pulled them down, leaving you in just your underwear. She kissed you lightly on your cunt through your underwear causing you to moan at the feeling. You could feel how wet you were and all you wanted was for her to touch you more. She placed some more kisses on you through your underwear before sucking slightly, taking your underwear into your mouth. ‘Fuck. Robin please.’ You breathed, wanting more. She grabbed your underwear, pulling them down, not giving you a chance to think before she licked all the way up your pussy. You groaned, moving your hands down to her hair. You lifted your legs up and placed them on her shoulders. She kept licking at you before moving her mouth to suck on your clit. The sensation caused your eyes to roll back in your head. She knew exactly what to do to make you feel good. You felt one of her hands which was on your leg move towards your cunt, two of her fingers pushing inside you. You let out a loud moan, the feeling of her sucking on your clit while her fingers were inside her was too much. You pulled even harder on Robin’s hair as you felt the feeling of your orgasm building inside you. ‘Robin.’ You moaned, tugging at her hair. She moved her fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, while her mouth sucked on your clit. You moved one of the hands that were in her hair to the hand that wasn’t inside you intertwining your fingers. You felt your orgasm wash over you, gripping her hand tightly and screaming her name. Your chest moved up and down as you took deep breaths, still not letting go of Robin’s hand. She pressed light kisses to your thighs as she removed her hand from you. She pulled herself up off the floor, lying down on the couch. You moved on top of her, resting your head on her breasts. You interlaced your fingers with hers as you felt her other hand start to play with your hair. You felt yourself getting sleepy as you cuddled up against her and fought to keep your eyes open. ‘As cute as you look right now. I don’t think your parents would appreciate coming home to find you naked on the couch with a girl.’ Robin mumbled. ‘Not my fault you’re so comfortable.’ You mumbled with your eyes still closed, not wanting to move. ‘Babe, you have to get up. We can cuddle once we’re dressed.’ ‘Fine. You whined, but I’m holding to that.’ You sat up stretching out. ‘On one condition though.’ ‘And what is that?’ She said gathering her clothes up off the floor. ‘You agree to be my girlfriend.’ You smiled at her. ‘I think I can live that.’ Robin said leaning over to kiss you.

#robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x reader #robin Buckley smut #robin buckley x you #robin buckley #maya hawke #maya hawke x reader #robin buckley fanfic #robin x reader