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reiderwriter · 8 months

Note

NSFW Prompt Requests - I’m in dyer need of 127 or 150 if you’d be so kind?🥵

A/N: I feel like I say "I got a bit carried away" in every single one of these authors notes, but this one I think I really did...

Word Count: 3k

#127: "I can taste myself on you."

#150: "Stop clenching, baby, you're already tight enough as it is."

Summary: You're hot for teacher. So is every other girl on campus. Your Professor, however, is absolutely oblivious until you spell it out for him...

Warnings: Professor x Student, age gap, oral (M receiving), face-fucking, no birth control/ condoms, creampie, male whimpering and moaning mentioned a lot, PinV sex, both of them are Switches idc idc 18+ MINORS DNI

Check out my other stuff on my masterlist!

You had been in his class for around three weeks when you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to keep up your GPA and progress in your grad programme, you were going to have to either drop the class with Professor Reid, or persuade him to put you out of your misery.

You’d been intrigued by the course to start with, of course, which is why you’d picked up the criminology elective when it wasn’t a required class. But it was only available this semester as he was only Guest Lecturing while on leave from his job at the BAU, and getting that kind of insight from an actual industry professional rather than an academic really couldn’t hurt, right? You’d thought that until you’d seen him.

Expecting some older man with a stuffy tone and a disdain for modern technology, you’d been roughly awoken when he walked into the lecture hall on the first day and you found yourself hanging on to his every word as he read through your syllabus. You were spot on with the technophobia, but for everything else, you were blissfully incorrect. He was, quite possibly, the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. You weren’t secretive about your thing for older men, joking all the time about your “daddy kink,” but you’d never had a thing for one of your actual professors before, and it was driving you insane.

It didn’t help that the word had travelled around the entirety of your campus as well, with multiple girls turning up to audit the class after the first week. You’d been green with envy since you’d seen them mooning over the man, and you’d felt disgusted with yourself almost instantly. He was your professor, he was damn good at his job, but he was so deliciously tempting that you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually pay attention in his classes. You knew it was only a matter of time until the man, who you realised was obviously blind to how attractive he was to a bunch of twenty-somethings with a penchant for danger and a willingness to try all kinds of new things, would catch on to how many of his students were openly lusting for him.

You hoped that you had learned enough in his classes on behaviour that you could accurately hide your feelings and thoughts, however sinful and objectively obvious they were. Your hopes were crushed on that fateful day three weeks into the semester.

You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed already. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, your clothes were all still wet inside the washing machine in your apartment meaning you had to throw on a short skirt and pray you didn't flash anyone, and your roommate hadn’t closed the fridge properly the night before, so the milk you wanted to use in your morning coffee had spoilt. After dragging yourself into class, the last thing you’d wanted to see was twice as many students auditing the class as the previous week.

To give it to the man’s obliviousness, he hadn’t noticed until about two thirds of the way into the class, when he asked a student why they weren’t taking notes. He’d seemed confused. You were almost furious that he didn’t know what effect he was having on you, on every girl in the vicinity, but, more importantly, you. Unable to help yourself, you let out a scoff that gained his attention.

“Is there something wrong with the class materials Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name to him.

“Oh, no, uh, Y/N. My name is Y/N, there’s nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry.” His lips twitched as you replied, but he went on with his class, as you sunk into your chair in shame. You were going to have to drop the class now. He must hate you, or think you were stupid, or think that you hated him, and your thoughts were spiralling so out of control that you hadn’t noticed the class had ended, and he was calling up at you from the lecturing desk.

“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and his goddamned eyes were filled with such concern you hated that every part of your body was screaming with desire for him. Unable to respond, he tried again.

“If you have the time, would you like to come talk to me in my office? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” You should’ve said no, just based on the ridiculous scenes filling your mind, but you didn’t hesitate to nod your approval. You picked up your bags and made your way down the steps to where he was waiting with all of his stuff near the front door. He opened the door for you, and you felt your heart race as you awkwardly slid by him in the doorway. He had to be a fucking gentleman, too, right?

You followed him as he made his way to his office, staying silent the entire way. He looked like he wanted to make small talk but didn’t know how, choosing instead to just mirror your silence. When you reached his office, he apologised for the mess and showed you inside, letting you take a seat on the couch whilst he put all his things away. The room was littered with books of all sizes, and you noticed that the titles didn’t seem to have one common subject linking them all, or even, in fact, seem to be written in the same language. You spotted a beaten up copy of War and Peace on his desk next to an obviously used coffee mug, and some paper files that looked to be the reading from that morning’s class.

“Sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on having guests, uh, make yourself comfortable?” He asked it as a question, and loosened his tie as he said it. You stared at the small patch of skin on his neck, your eyes lingering just a moment too long before you remembered you were in a room with an actual FBI Profiler, and that if your thoughts were any louder, he’d handcuff you himself. As tempting as that was, you really didn’t want your Professor knowing about all the ways you’d imagined him fucking you.

“Professor Reid, I’m sorry, I have to leave, and- and I think I have to drop out of the class.” You stood up suddenly, and he stood up too from his place at his desk, shocked at your sudden anxious outburst.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, is there something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked taking a step closer to you, but you took a step back again, accidentally pressing your back against one of his many bookcases in your haste to avoid him.

“Yes! I mean no, it’s not your fault that I’m uncomfortable. I’m not uncomfortable, really!” He had the look of a kicked puppy on his face now, and you realised this man would be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what it was about him that entranced you enough to stay and continue the conversation.

“I can’t focus in your classes, Professor,” you sighed out, letting your eyes drop with the embarrassing confession.

“That’s perfectly fine, many people struggle to pay attention in college classes. Is there anything I can do in my lectures to accommodate to your needs?” Your eyebrows screwed up in frustration with his obvious professional kindness.

“No, Professor, I’m sorry, unless you stop looking like that there’s nothing you can do.” You ran a stressed hand through your hair as you begged your mouth to shut and stay shut.

“...What?” The confused tone in his voice let you know that he had no clue at all what you meant by your words, but he didn’t go further. You chanced a glance up at his face, and were met with a small blush rising to his cheeks, as you watched the words process in his brain.

“Professor, every single person in that class that is attracted to men would kill to do absolutely sinful things to you. You’re like the campus’s collective wet dream right now. You had to know that, right?” You sigh out, finally putting the man out of his misery.

“Oh. No. No, no, I didn’t. Know that, I mean, I didn’t…Is that why there are so many people auditing the class? They want to…. Do that with me?”

“Fuck you, Professor. They want to fuck you. You can say it, we’re both adults.” You resigned yourself to the fact that this conversation was probably going to haunt every waking hour for the rest of your life, and just let it happen, pushing through the cringe to help him come to certain realisations.

“And that’s why you want to drop the class?” he asked finally, looking back up at you.

“Yes.”

“Because you want to…fuck me?”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you desperately tried to back track, but all that came out was hot air and blubbering sounds as you felt your brain short circuit like his had just moments before.

“I mean… I guess,” you finally stuttered out, your fight or flight instinct begging you to just run, but something deeper, something carnal planting you in position and making movement in that moment impossible.

“Oh…. right.” He nodded at you, his lips spread in a thin smile as he nodded at you awkwardly. You stood there together in silence for a minute, but it became clear soon that the logical part of your brain was no longer in control of your mouth.

“Can I?” you asked, almost startled at your own boldness.

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice raising higher in tone at the incredulity of your statement.

“Can I fuck you? If I do, maybe I’ll be able to, you know, pay more attention in class. Get it out of my system, you know.” Growing emboldened by your own words, you took another hesitant step towards him, reaching your hand up to gently touch his arm. His jaw clenched at the contact, but he didn’t move away, didn’t suggest you stop right there and forget this conversation ever happened.

“Please, Professor Reid. Please fuck me,” you trailed the hand up his arm and back down his chest as he stood there just watching you beg for him. You discarded your bag on the chair, and keeping your eyes focused on his, trailed both of your hands down to his belt, slowly enough that he could push you away at anytime.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Miss Y/N?” He asked quietly, and you smiled, finally happy to get a reaction from him. The smile had dropped from his lips and there was something suddenly dark in his tone that had you clenching around nothing.

“Yes, Professor,” you said, letting your hands start working on his belt, undoing it agonisingly slowly as you watched him control his breaths. When you finally had it undone, you finally looked up at him again, and gave him a smile as innocent as you could muster.

“You have my permission,” he whispered into your ears as he gently put a hand on your head and pushed you down to your knees, perching himself on the edge of the desk. You wasted no time then, desperate to live out each and every single one of your fantasies with him. Reaching into his pants, you found him already hard and pulsing, and you released his cock from its confines quickly. Spitting into your hand, you gave him a few quick strokes as you watched him grow even bigger under your touch.

Letting out some sinful breathy moans, you looked up at him, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as you finally reached your tongue out to lick at the tip of his cock. He twitched at the contact, and you felt the warmth pooling between your legs as you watched his each and every reaction. Finally wrapping your lips around him, you decided to put him out of his misery, sinking down on his dick an inch at a time until he was hitting the back of your throat. He was delightfully vocal the whole time, moaning and whimpering so much that you almost pulled off him completely and begged him to fuck you raw. But the taste of his cock was intoxicating and you wanted more and more of him. After a few minutes of your agonisingly slow pace, you felt his hips beginning to buck up to match your pace as he began to face-fuck you. He grabbed a handful of hair, and you did your best to relax your throat, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his thigh and sinking deeper into your open hips on the floor.

His eyes were still screwed close, but he was moaning out your name now, with a few expletives thrown in too, having done a complete 180 from the few minutes earlier when he’d hesitated to even say the F word in conversation. You felt he was getting close when he started thrusting deeper, sloppier in his movements and more breathy in his moans. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet, bringing you face to face with him.

“We didn’t… we didn’t say where I would, um…” he tried to say but you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, your tongues quickly twinning as he returned it in kind. You stood there, lips locked and breathless in that space for quite some time, neither of you caring about the lack of oxygen you were getting. Finally, using the hand that was still fisted in your hair he pulled you away from his lips, and you whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact.

“I can taste myself on you,” he panted into your neck as he held you close, the words sending a shiver down your spine and forcing another moan out of your mouth. The pain from his tight grip in your hair only heightened your pleasure as he moved his lips back to your exposed neck and continued his ministrations.

“Please, professor….” you begged again, desperate for his attention. “Please fuck me.”

Without removing his lips from your neck, he quickly moved the two of you back to the couch you’d been sitting on before, guiding you into his lap, his cock still hard and free from his pants. Your skirt spread open, and your hard landing meant you could feel all of him pressed against you. You thanked the gods for your suddenly well-timed laundry efforts as he grabbed the base of his cock and started teasing you through your panties. You were sure they were soaked through as you sat in his lap, grinding down on his perfect cock, his mouth still pressed into your neck.

“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaned, and he complied, finally hooking a finger under the seam of your panties and moving them to the side as he pushed up into you with another throaty moan.

“Yes, thank you. Thank you Professor, thank you.” You moaned out in bliss as you sank further and further down on him, pushing further than any man had been. before.

“Stop clenching, baby, you’re already tight enough as it is,” he ground his teeth in a hiss, and you moaned at his words, the pervertedness of them shooting straight to your core.

“Can’t…help myself. You feel so good, sir.” He started moving then, holding your waist as he started lazily thrusting upwards. After having your mouth wrapped around him, he knew that too much too soon would mean that this wouldn’t last long, and you had begged him nicely, so he wanted this to feel as good for you as it did for him. Gripping one of your hips tightly in one hand, he let the other fall under your skirt, and started pressing into your clit. You threw back your head at the contact and started riding him, matching each of his upward thrusts with a downward thrust of your own, letting his thumb gain speed as it followed you up and down.

“Fuck, professor, thank you…I’m gonna cum, fuck, thank you so much,” you stuttered out as you could feel your orgasm rip through you, collapsing into his arms as he thrust quicker into you now.

“Y/N, where… where should I….” His voice trailed off, and after a few seconds regaining your sanity after your climax, you finally answered the question he’d been desperately trying to answer.

“Inside… Inside me, Professor Reid, it’s okay…” he whimpered at that, at each thrust he pushed into you, his head falling to the crook in your neck and your hands stroking the hair at the base of his neck as you clenched around him again, finally pulling the desire out of him. He came noisily, even with his face buried in you, moaning so delightfully you knew the sound would be your new distraction for the next three weeks.

When he finally regained his composure, he let his hands drop from your waist, his head rolled back on the couch, and you fell with him, wrapping yourself around him as if you never wanted this coupling to end. You stayed there, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and drifted to sleep.

You awoke an hour later, but there was no sign of the Professor. He’d cleaned you up somehow, because there was no unpleasant feeling between your legs, and he’d wrapped a blanket around you as you slept, making sure you were comfortable. Collecting your things and making to leave, you almost convinced yourself that it had all been another fantasy, and that you were becoming seriously delusional about the man. As you approached the door, however, you spotted a small note taped to the handle, and quickly pulled it into your hands.

Miss Y/N,

Thank you for visiting me today. I hope you decide to stay in the class, I certainly could learn a thing or two from you.

- Spencer Reid.

P.S. You’re lucky I’m an MIT Graduate with a job in the FBI. There’s a security camera in my office.

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2K notes · View notes

obsessedwithtoomanythings · 10 months

Text

Anchor Up to Me, Love

Pairing: Alpha!Leon Kennedy x Omega!Reader

Warning: College AU, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Breeding Kink, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But Leon saves the day, cause we love him, Possessive Leon S. Kennedy, Protective Leon S. Kennedy, Violence, just a lil, Leon S. Kennedy Being a Little Shit, Leon S. Kennedy is a tease. Leon S. Kennedy is a Sweetheart, I slept for 2 hours last night cause of this, bon appétit, bone apple teeth, Leon Kennedy loves eating pussy change my mind, Loss of Virginity, Unprotected Sex, POV First Person

Words: 3.3K

A/N: I wrote this in one afternoon, it was not beta'd at all. I pulled this STRAIGHT out of my ass. THIS IS NSFW. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, PLEASE GO AWAY. Title from Anchor by Novo Amor.

The campus was buzzing with hyper energy, the students littering the quad as the weather finally warmed up enough for them to comfortably rest on the green grass. My sneakers slap against the concrete as I take a deep breath in, the fresh air mingling with the student’s scents and I can’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness at the sight of the couples sprawled across the area.

I have spent half my life terrified of everyone - especially alphas - since my father’s warning when I presented. “You need to be careful, pup. Alpha’s only want one thing. You don’t want to end up like your mother - God rest her soul.” The fear it caused has definitely contributed to my self induced isolation. The scent blockers stir in my stomach, and I place a hand over my gut softly as I continue to head toward the library. I couldn’t afford the textbook, and thankfully the library had a cheap copy, but it can only be used in the library. I huff in annoyance as I mount the stairs. I step into the air conditioned building, skin prickling beneath my tee shirt. Should have worn a sweater.

The library is huge, 3 floors of walls lined with books, and the loner in me cries out in joy at seeing how deserted the stacks are. Having memorized the way already, I walk toward where they keep the textbooks and I run my fingers across the bindings until I come across where my textbook should be. I glance around to see if it was maybe misplaced before I head to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for the Understanding Earth textbook for Professor Fieldman’s class?” I ask, and the woman behind the counter looks up with a small smile.

“Oh, that’s a popular one today. There’s a young man in blue who asked for it maybe 10 minutes ago. He should be in one of the study rooms, I think Room C.” The one with the windows. I nod, glancing down at my phone for the time. That paper is due in 12 hours. I’ll have to suck it up and ask if he’s willing to share. I head up the stairs, the hushed whispers of students giggling on the second floor catches my attention as I rub my fingers over my arms to warm them. The straps of my backpack are becoming more and more noticeable the longer the bag rests on my shoulders, and the girls’ voices become audible. “Wasn’t he adorable? He’s in my criminology class. His scent is intoxicating.” I scoff at their words. I walk toward the closed oak door before lightly rapping my knuckles on the varnished surface, and I crack it open as I hear a voice speak. Please be a beta. Please be a beta. Please be a beta.

“Yeah?” The door opens a bit more and that’s when I see him, strong hands hovering over the keys of his laptop, bright blue eyes trained on me as I stand in the doorway, my cheeks probably red from embarrassment.

“Hi,” I say before introducing myself with my name. “I know this is probably weird, but Professor Fieldman assigned a paper due tonight and I need some sources. Would you mind if I shared the textbook with you?” I ask, definitely speaking too fast as the anxiety crawls up my throat, tasting an awful lot like bile. He chuckles and that’s when his scent hits my nose. Those girls weren’t lying. He smells like pine and citrus, which you wouldn’t normally assume would mix, but something about the way it mingles as it enters my nose, my whole body flushes,, and I wonder if it’s because of him being an alpha or just him in general.

“I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy. And no, I don’t mind at all,” he says kindly, scooting his chair over a bit and pushing the textbook closer to the chair next to him. I should not sit next to him. His scent is already almost overwhelming and I’ve been in here for all of 1 minute. I find myself walking forward as I hear the door close behind me and I sit down in the black mesh swivel chair next to Leon. He gives me a small smile before I realize he probably thinks I’m a beta. My scent blockers should be enough. When is my heat due again? I vaguely wonder as I slip my backpack onto the floor next to me and pull out my laptop, opening the document to this stupid paper. “The paper on your favorite mineral and its multitude of uses?” He asks, glancing at my screen and I nervously huff out a laugh.

“Yup. I went with obsidian.” I say as I look back at him. His eyes are like two pools of blue, oceans in their entirety and threatening to drag me under and drown me.

“Good choice. Quartz,” he points his thumb at himself with a small smile as he runs his fingers through his hair before training his eyes on his paper. We sit in comfortable silence for about 10 minutes before the first cramp shoots through my gut. I press a hand to the muscle, hoping pressure will relieve the ache before it increases. I tense up as I groan, dropping my head to the cool desk as my skin feels like it’s on fire. “Are you okay?” He asks, placing a hand on my back, and the warmth of his hand makes me release a very different kind of groan, which I try to muffle by clamping my teeth down on my bottom lip, so hard I may be drawing blood. Heat washes over me and I vaguely register that I am absolutely going into heat right here, next to this alpha I just met. I reach down for my phone to check, and that’s when I realize that I am a week early for my heat.

“I’m fine, I just need to go, I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I stand quickly, slamming my laptop closed much harder than I should before practically throwing it into my backpack, slinging the fabric over my shoulders before I feel a hand lightly wrap around my wrist, not restraining me, just… catching my attention.

“I’m sorry, I can go if you need the-” Leon trails off, his voice fading into silence as his eyes widen. “You’re an omega?” He asks, and I know my scent blockers aren’t very effective anymore. Not against a sudden onset of heat in the middle of the day. I nod smally, feeling tiny compared to this alpha, despite him still sitting down in his own chair. The place where his skin meets mine on my wrist tingles, sending sparks up and down my arm as I am suddenly extremely grateful that I didn’t wrap myself in a sweatshirt. I’d be sweating through it by now.

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, taking a deep breath while facing away from me, as if he’s trying to compose himself before he speaks again. “Sorry, you’re just… You smell amazing…” He practically rasps, voice dropping to a painfully attractive octave. “I thought you were a beta when you walked in. You shouldn’t be out this close to your heat,” he mumbles, still unable to meet my eyes.

“I’m not due for a week. Trust me, I intend to go home,” I explain, and he nods as he lets go of my wrist. Without another word, I walk briskly to the door. I don’t breathe until I’m out in the fresh air, trying to wash Leon’s scent from my nose before I begin to practically sprint toward the parking lot where my car is. I’m almost there when I hear whistles behind me. Oh no.

“Where you going, pretty ‘mega?” My hands shake violently, slick pouring into the center of my panties due to the incoming heat, and I hear several sets of footsteps behind me. There are at least 3 of them. A cold hand lands on my shoulder and I yelp, dropping my keys to the tarmac as tears brim in my eyes. The alpha spins me around as his friends snigger behind him and his hard body presses me against the nearest vehicle, hands roaming over my jean covered thighs as the hot tears pour down my cheeks. His scent is vile, aggression and sweat wafting off of him in waves, and his nose runs along the column of my throat. “You smell so good, baby. How about you let me take care of your little problem?” His voice is gravely and harsh, tongue licking up my neck to taste my sweat. “God, I’m gonna knot you so-”

“Get the fuck off of her.” A voice says, and it takes my mind only moments to realize it’s Leon.

“Fuck off, finder’s keepers.” I squeeze my eyes closed so tightly that harsh colors flash across my darkened vision, and my hands push against his cotton tee shirt pointlessly.

“Then how about this?” The weight is gone, ripped from my body and I open my eyes to see that Leon has physically ripped the guy off of me and I watch as his body collides with the vehicle next to us, the white metal slightly dented from where his head hit before Leon’s fists tighten in his shirt, pressing him into the truck. “Touch my omega again, and you won’t be leaving unless it’s in a body bag.” Leon lets him go and we both watch as the alpha runs away, followed by his lackeys. If he had a tail, it’d be between his legs.

I sink to the ground, knees pressed to my chest and my hands press into the dark concrete. “Holy…”

“Are you okay?” Leon is there, crouching at my level. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I shake my head, hands twitching, begging me to reach out and touch him and I can’t stop them as one lands on his shoulder.

“I just want to feel safe... Can you hold me?” I whisper, and it’s only seconds before his palms skim along my bare arms. Feeling like I’ve been shocked with straight electricity, my gasp escapes as I shift to press my nose into his shirt, the blue cotton/spandex mix beneath my lips driving me up a wall and rushing more slick into the gusset of my panties.

“Of course.” His words are soft, fingers carding through my hair in soothing motions. His lips are soft as they press to my temple and I clutch his shirt tightly in my fists. “What do you need?” He asks, making sure to address me by my name.

“You, alpha…” I whisper, desperation in my tone. “Please…”

“Fuck…” Leon mumbles, nodding and accidentally brushing his nose through my hair, and he groans. “Okay, come on.”

The kisses are all tongues and teeth, lips connected as teeth nibble at the already plump flesh as the door opens. Thank god he has an apartment, cause Dad would never let me bring home an alpha for him to fuck me through my heat. The room smells overwhelmingly like him, air fresheners be damned. Palms on hips, slipping into the waistband of denim, untucking shirts, fingers dancing across skin and I tug on the hem of his light blue shirt, silently pleading for it to come off.

“Need something, sweet girl?” He chuckles, a teasing edge to his voice. A whine slips from my lips into his mouth and he pulls back to press our noses together, foreheads in contact as he looks into my eyes. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Off, please, Leon.” Well, he said words. I managed that. He peels the fabric from his chest, my eyes raking over the exposed muscles and soft flesh.

“Eyes up here, ‘mega.” His finger slides under my chin, bringing my eyes to his as our lips collide again before parting to remove my own tee shirt, dropping the cotton onto a pile on top of his. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers under his breath. Before I can process the movements, my feet are off the ground before I feel the weight of the couch beneath me as he tugs on my waistband. “Can I taste you, ‘mega? Please?”

“Mhm,” I hum through my bitten lip, teeth pressing into the tender flesh as I help him remove my tight jeans, my panties flying somewhere in his apartment as he buries his mouth against my cunt without further question.

His name leaves my lips in a squeak as my fingers thread through his dark blonde locks, tugging the strands lightly as his tongue laps at my sex. Growls rumble from his chest as he sucks gently on my clit, the suction forcing gasps and moans from my mouth; I look down and find those intoxicating blue eyes locked on me, the wet sounds coming from my center absolutely lewd. How do people live without this?

“Do you want my knot?” The question should require more thought. More attention.

“Yes. Please alpha, need it.” Leon stands, lips and chin coated with my shiny slick, and I watch as he licks the fluid off his lips before using his fingers to wipe off the remainder before sucking them into his mouth. Oh fuck, that’s hot. Nimble fingers undo the buttons of his jeans, tugging the zipper down tauntingly. “Leon.” His name comes out as a frustrated groan, and I’m gifted by the sweet sound of his light chuckle.

“Patience is a virtue, sweet girl.” I groan, a small laugh of my own filling the air as he comes up to kneel between my thighs, the skin of my ass pressing against his thighs as he leans forward to rub his cock along the length of my core. “Fucking shit, got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, ‘mega. Have you ever had a knot before?” He asks, rolling his hips so his tip bumps against my clit and I shake my head no. “Have you ever had sex with anyone?”

“No…” I admit, hands coming up to press against my hot cheeks.

“That’s okay, ‘mega. Do you want to keep going?” I peek between my fingers to see his soft smile. He is willing to stop for my comfort. “I can make you come in other ways if you don’t want-”

“I want your knot, please Leon.” My hips cant on their own accord, rubbing against him and his groan quickly dissolves into a huff of laughter, the sound filled with affection and gentleness.

“Okay, baby. We’ll take this slow, okay?” His head nudges at my opening, pressing the head in. The slight burn doesn’t last as my body adjusts to him, his arms caging me in on both sides of my head filling each of my senses with nothing but Leon, Leon, Leon. It continues like this, him pressing his length pressing in an inch or two before he pauses, huffy breaths puffing against my face as his peppers my face in soft kisses, my hands cupping his jaw and nape of his neck to feel some semblance of balance as he splits me open. I have nothing to compare it to, but he feels pretty big to me. Finally after a painstakingly long time, his hips press forward, flush with mine, and we both release shaky pants at the sensations.

“Please move,” I whimper as my hands shift to dig into the firm muscle of his shoulders, dull nails leaving crescents in his flesh.

“Anything for you, my sweet little omega.” The sweet words are quickly drowned out as he begins a leisurely pace, and I can feel the drag of his cock against my walls at every movement he makes. Kissing is futile by this point; We’re practically just breathing into each other’s mouths. His pace begins to steadily climb, faster and harder as his deft fingers rub soft circles over my bud, my head thrown back in response to the new sensation. “Does that feel good, sweet girl?” I nod before his earlier command rings through my ears.

“Yeah, Leon… Feels so good.”

“Such a perfect little omega, my omega.” The possessive tone sends a wave of heat straight down my spine as he continues. “That alpha touching you earlier… God I wanted to rip his throat out…” Hips slapping harder against mine as my moans grow in pitch, his name practically the only coherent sound that can be heard from my lips.

“Yours, alpha. All yours.” The blonde nuzzles into my neck, teeth grazing across my sweat slicked skin. He speaks, and it takes a nip to my ear to realize he’s speaking, my focus being tugged between the wet sounds of us meeting, his teeth on my neck, his scent in my nose, and his dirty words in my ears.

I want to claim you.

Fill you til it spills from that tight little pussy.

Want my babies, sweetheart?

Knock you up, god you’d look so pretty carrying my babies, ‘mega.

I nod blindly, barely unable to form words anymore as I’m so fucked out, so cockdrunk.

“Yes, please, fill me. Want it. Want you.” I groan in protest as he pulls out, emptiness bringing tears to my eyes before his gentle caress causes me to peel my eyes open to meet his. I’m greeted with a new sight. This isn’t just Leon.

This is my alpha.

“Present for me, ‘mega.” I nod, flipping over so my knees press into the scratchy fabric of the couch, arms resting on the arm rest as my body arches for him practically unconsciously. This is how it feels to find your mate. Callused hands trace the skin of my back, rubbing softly over the skin of my ass before his tip presses against my opening again, sliding in much easier than before, the wet slick aiding in creating a smooth glide and I practically feel him in my throat as he resumes a fast pace. Mumbles of curses fall into the air, sweaty skin pressing to my back, giving him access to whisper in my ear.

“I want you to come for me. I’ll give you my knot if you do.” The rough tips of his fingers return to my clit, rubbing much faster circles as the band in my gut pulls tight. “Come for me, omega.” That’s all it takes. I come with a yelp of his name, followed by a chorus of ‘alpha’s mixing with ‘Leon’. He growls, leaning forward to press the expanding ring of muscle into my pussy as his teeth sink into the flesh of my neck, locking us together in every sense of the words.

Gentle hands maneuver us to our sides, his warm body spooning as he grabs the blanket from the back of his couch to drape it over us as the sweat on our skin rapidly cools in the now chilly air of his living room.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, lips pressing soft kisses across my exposed flesh, and he sounds almost guilty. I nod sleepily, reaching back to run fingers through his hair with a chuckle. “Something funny, cutie?”

“I don’t think sharing the textbook is gonna be an issue anymore.” At my words, we both burst into a fit of giggles, panting breaths as I turn my head to press our lips together before I gasp, hands coming up to my mouth.

“What?”

“My dad is gonna kill us.” I admit with a nervous laugh.

“Nah. I meet parents like a champ.” His face practically drips with confidence and I chuckle.

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah. Look at my face. This is the face of ‘I’m absolutely not sleeping with your daughter’.” The laughter is uncontainable now.

Oh yeah. Definitely.

Tags:

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #Alpha!Leon #Omega!Reader #resident evil fanfiction #Alpha!Leon Kennedy

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smok3r7 · 2 months

Text

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Eye Catching

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My Ao3

Series Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: It’s your Freshman year at George Washington College and you’re determined on getting your doctorate in criminology. Little did you know the handsome man you sit next to in your first lecture, Psychology 101, will have you feeling things you haven’t in years.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: anxiety, self esteem issues at first

*a quick little cameo from Professor Joel Miller ;) idea from Chloe with her Seeking series with her cameo of Father Lawrence and @merz-8 with the idea of him being the professor*

—

“Bye Mama, love you!”

“Bye baby, you go rock this shit!”

Your eyes start to well with tears as you back out of the long paved driveway, where your mom stands by the garage door hugging herself, trying her damned best not to break down while she slowly waves to you. When you reach the road and put your truck in drive, you turn your head to look at your beautiful mother one more time as you blow her a kiss. You wait for her to return the gesture before you push your right foot on the gas pedal and you focus your attention on the road in front of you.

Just a four hour drive, all I gotta do, you whisper to yourself as you turn onto the main road that leads to the freeway. You’ve lived just outside of Roanoke, Virginia, with just your mom ever since you were a toddler, and you have no memories of your father or any other family members. He left as soon as he was informed about the pregnancy and all your mom has told you about her family is, well-

“They just let too much shit slide. No one’s ever been held accountable for anything they’ve done. I had to leave, to save you. That’s all I cared about; saving you from their disgusting behavior.”

You have never asked her for further details, gathering on your own that her family, your family, were inhumane and cruel. So you just left it at that, which you really are okay with, at the end of the day. Your mother has been the only family to consistently cheer you on for whatever you do, pushing you to become the smart, strong, and independent young woman you are today. She’s all I need.

—

It’s late August, just on the cusp of September of 1987, and the road trip to Washington D.C is beautiful. The trees are just starting to turn from the bright greens to the light oranges and reds. It’s just amazing to be able to witness the change in seasons. You start to realize that the rest of Virginia isn’t much different than home, which brings you a sense of comfort and calmness.

You love living in Roanoke, it’s so cozy and peaceful, and now that you’re not going to be there anymore, it scares you. The fear of not being familiar with your surroundings is heavy on your mind and heart, since you’ve lived in the same environment and home for twenty-one years.

Even with all that in mind, you’re still extremely excited to start fresh. You’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about Washington D.C - the scenery and structures are breathtaking, and the history of it all enraptures you. But what you’re really looking forward to is the college life; the learning environment, the gratification from being able to move forward in your career, the range of different people, the parties, and who knows - maybe a little fling here and there. Overall, it’s all very intriguing and an electrifying experience that you cannot wait to begin.

In June, you celebrated your twenty-first birthday and that was the day you decided to take your career seriously. Ever since you were a pre-teen and got a chance to talk to an actual FBI agent, who was a woman - insane, right? - in your eighth grade class, you dreamed about becoming a part of the BAU at Quantico. You’ve had a fascination with crime for as long as you can remember, but also, you get this overwhelming sense of satisfaction when you’re able to help others. So no matter the circumstances it takes to get there, you will be able to make it.

You’ve been on the road for about three and a half hours now, stopping to fill up your tank before you hit the city where it’ll cost more. Gotta be smart. When you climb back into your truck, you grab the map that’s on your leather passenger seat and take one more look at it. Your mom insisted on marking the backroads way after a certain time on the freeway to get there with a red sharpie, and honestly, you’re glad she did because otherwise you’d be fucked.

“Just gotta take Fruit Ridge for another ten miles, then take a right on 28th St. ‘n I’m downtown. Perfect,” You tell yourself as you drag your index finger along the red line that leads to your destination. Thank you mama, setting the map down, you put your truck in drive and you’re on your way once again.

The warm summer breeze flows through the open windows of your truck, drying the sweat that’s appeared on your skin, the fresh air rushing up your nose with undertones of country life. The drive has been nothing but sunshine and peace, no one tailing you and no one being an ass in front of you - pretty much just you and a couple cars here and there.

You only have about two miles until you hit 28th St. and the anticipation is starting to hit you. The adrenaline is coursing through your body.

Am I really ready for this?

Can I do this without my mom?

Yes, I can do this by myself, I got this.

Your mind won’t stop racing like the cars and trucks that fly past you, going the other direction, away from the city. You’re starting to get cold feet as you get closer and closer. But, you’ve already made it this far, I can’t back out now.

As you take a deep breath in and out, the back of your head leans back onto the headrest when you notice the large green sign on your right side. You raise your head forward so you can read it clearly.

George Washington College 3 Miles, with a white arrow pointing East.

A soft smile takes over the worried expression you had a minute ago, and you turn onto 28th St., where the scenery changes instantly. Smaller homes and apartments on either side of the road, and people spread all over the yards and sidewalks, unlike the trees and farms that you drove past. A sense of security comes over you, I made it.

Now feeling calm and put together, you can enjoy the last bit of the ride there. With your right hand on the steering wheel and your left arm hanging out the window, the sound of the radio escapes from your vehicle along with the rumble of your engine.

“You’re listenin’ to Classic Hits FM with Doug n’ Carrie. N’ that was The Whispers with their hit, Rock Steady. One of my favorites, what ‘bout you Carrie?”

“I mean how can it not be? But this next one is my all-time favorite right now, can you take a guess at who?”

“Lemme guess, somethin’ by Fleetwood Mac?”

“The one and only Fleetwood Mac, you’re right Doug! My girl Stevie Nicks, the white witch. God I love her! Here’s Seven Wonders, their most recent single that’s been at number one for the last month!”

So Long ago,

Certain place, certain times

You touched my hand on the way, on the way to Emmeline

But if our paths never cross

Well, you know I’m sorry, but

If I live to see the Seven Wonders…

“I’ll make a path to the rainbows end! I’ll never live to match the beauty again, the rainbow's edge.” You sing with a smile large enough to be seen from the sidewalk where a range of people walk up and down.

The beautiful view of the pale brick pillars that hold the black metal gate in between them reads, Professors Gate on the top. I made it.

—

“Knock knock!”

You spin your body around to face the door and your face lights up at the sight of the shorter young lady in front of you.

“Bella! Oh my god!” You yell and run towards her with open arms, “What are you doing here?” You wrap your arms around her, as she does the same. The dorm room fills with laughs and mumbles of words from the both of you.

“I wanted to surprise you, and it worked!” She says into your shoulder as the two of you rock side to side, still holding each other.

“Hell yeah it did!” You step away from her and then the realization hits you, “Wait, is this your dorm?” Your arms wave around to show you meant the room you two are standing in. All she does is nod her head with a huge grin showing off her pearly white teeth, oh my god, no way, you screech again.

You and Bella met in fourth grade and have been best friends ever since. She too only lives and speaks with her mom, and it’s kind of scary to know that someone else has lived your life - but it’s also relieving in a way because you’re not alone, and you can talk about your feelings without feeling judged.

“Criminol-“

“-logy, yes!”

She finishes your question before you can even ask it, something the two of you do subconsciously at this point. Which fits because the two of you are like twins, not identical but the way your minds work together us incredible, and the two of you also share the same birthday, June eleventh, nineteen sixty-six.

The two of you unpack and begin to make the dorm into a comfortable space for the both of you. You and Bella ramble on and on about the drive here and how sad you both felt for leaving your moms at home by themselves. She traveled here about a month earlier than you, her boyfriend needed help moving his things into his apartment - he too is attending Washington College. But you and her knew that this was the best decision, neither of you could stay in Roanoke any longer.

After you both are happy with your sides of the room, it’s about eight at night, the sun has just about set, creating a beautiful pink and orange sky. The two of you kept getting distracted by certain items one of you found while unpacking or just by simple conversation, hence why it took so long.

“Wanna get takeout and watch Dirty Dancing?” You ask Bella as you plop down on your twin sized mattress that’s covered by a sage green blanket. Her face lights up, “What kinda question is that? Of course I do, Domino’s?”

You cock your head to the side and give her an are you really asking? kind of look and she just laughs as she stands from her bed and walks towards the phone that’s on the table on the other side of the room. She picks up the red telephone and dials Domino’s number that you both know by heart, but you realize that you’re not at home, so she must’ve ordered from the one around here in the time she’s been here.

“Hi! Order for pick-up please,” Bella chimes as she wraps the cord around her fingers and sits on the table next to the matching cherry red base. “Bella works, um, I would like-“

She goes on to list her pizza order and your garlic bread balls with chicken wings without any hesitation. After so many years of being friends you know each other's orders like the back of your hands.

“Twenty minutes? Awesome, thank you!” She hangs up the red phone with a click, and hops off the table, “Get dressed, we’re gonna walk. There’s too much traffic to drive there n’ back.”

“So you know where we’re goin?”

“Duh, it’s been my favorite place to get food since I’ve been out here. Now c’mon!”

Okay okay, you concede, shaking your head and laughing as you grab a thin gray hoodie and slip it over your head, then grabbing your black and white Nike air forces and slipping them on. C’mon, Bella drags out with a whine as she stands in the doorway holding the door open, you’re standing in front of the long mirror by your bed just making sure you don’t look too crazy you’re first time out in public in the new city.

“God, you’re so impatient.”

“You should be concerned the day that I’m not, that’s when you know something’s wrong!”

You both laugh as you make your way down the dorm hallway and out into the beautiful summer night air to go pick up your delicious food. When you reach the courtyard, you observe clusters of people spread across the grass. One group of women and men are sitting in a circle, one man has an acoustic guitar and looks like the group is just listening and watching his technique.

Another group of men are sitting on the wood picnic tables as they gaze at the courtyard, much like you are, but they’re whistling and hollering at girls who walk by their table. Not surprised. Then there’s one other group, which looks to be mainly women with a few men scattered and they have a boombox next to their picnic table as they start a dance routine, it looks like they’re practicing for something.

“That’s the dance team, I think we should join,” Bella interrupts your observation, causing you to think back to middle and high school. You and Bella were captains of the dance team for five years, it was one of the main reasons you guys are as close as you are.

As you exit the courtyard and start on the sidewalk, put your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie and turn your face to look at her for a second before you answer. “Maybe, just maybe.”

—

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

Ughhh, you groan rolling over and slamming your hand on the boxy alarm clock on your bedside table as you sit yourself up, raising your arms to stretch your limbs and yawing from exhaustion. After a moment you turn your attention to Bella’s bed and notice that she’s not there. Confusion takes over your sleepy mind. Where the hell did she go?

You gain enough strength in your tired body to hop off your bed and walk over to the table that holds the telephone, where a yellow sticky note lays on it.

Morning sleepyhead!! My first class starts at 7, I’ll be back around noon! I hope your first class goes well baby, love you!! <3 Bella

You smile at her note and stick it next to the red base of the phone. You turn around and look at the clock, 8:40 AM. Okay, I have forty-five minutes to get there. You shake yourself to wake up fully and you begin to pick out of your brown dresser, a pair of jean shorts and a black, thick strapped tank-top, with your classic black and white Nike shoes. Then sitting criss-cross on the floor in front of the mirror, you do your hair and makeup for the day.

After finishing everything, you glance back at the clock and it reads 9:08 AM. Shit, you mutter, swiftly grabbing your black Jansport backpack that’s filled with notebooks and utensils for class, and your schedule with your professors and lectures on it. Then you're out the door, down the same hallway from last night, but instead of going out to the courtyard, you continue down the hall towards the classrooms.

Psychology 101, 101, you repeat as you search the hall for the door that reads the lecture number. After passing about five classrooms, you finally find the right one. The silver plaque on the wood door reads, Psychology 101, Doctor Joel Miller. You glance down at your watch and relax your shoulders when you notice you’re early by just about ten minutes, so you don’t have to rush or worry about being late.

Might as well go in now and get my seat, you think as you reach your hand on the silver handle and gently pull the door towards you. When you open it, the first thing you observe is who you can assume is the professor writing something on the chalkboard. You can't believe that he is your professor. His cream button up shirt is tight around his biceps and chest, but loose around his lower abdomen where the bottom is tucked into his khaki pants. His brown, loosely curled hair is combed to look nice and not messy. His thick beard to match has you feeling like a child with a stupid crush.

His attention turns to you and he smiles, his round glasses fall a bit down his nose as he tilts his head forward to take you in. Wow, he’s hot.

“Hi, I’m here for your class,” you chime, walking into the large room and turning your head to the left to observe the seats and to your surprise it’s about half full, turning your attention back to him, “thought I would come a bit early.”

“That’s a good idea, I admire the dedication. Don’t let it fade away, darlin’, okay? But, your name is?” Dr. Miller steps away from the board and meets you halfway to greet you. You firmly shake his hand and share your first and last name. Well welcome to Psych. 101, dear, he tells you and winks when he lets your hand go.

Thank you, sir, you smile and turn to head towards the stairs on the edge of the room, so you can claim a seat. You observe the other students here, a couple pairs of friends scattered throughout the seats just talking away, and then the loners, you guess you could call them. But the person who catches your full attention is the man who can’t be much older than you, sitting alone in the second row at the top. He has this longer black hair sort of combed back, but not insanely gelled, with his round thin glasses, and a facial structure that’s sharp and soft at the same time.

Holy shit.

You’ve never been shy to men, you actually tend to be more confident than most, usually making the first move. It’s just something your mom and Bella have instilled in you throughout the years. So you decide to take a shot with this handsome young man in front of you.

“Is this seat taken?”

The intelligent looking man picks his head up from his desk to look at you a few feet away from him, pointing at the chair next to his. He takes a second before he answers, “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Perfect. Thought I’d keep you company up here. Ya know, since you’re all by yourself ‘n all,” you slightly tease with a smirk as you slide your bag off of your right shoulder and set it on the carpeted floor next to the wooden chair.

He chuckles watching you sit down in the seat only a mere three feet away from him, “Oh, did you now?”

“Yes, sir. So, are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to pry that information outta you too?” You laugh as you put your right elbow on the long table in front of you and rest your cheek in the palm of your hand, looking into his beautiful, cognac colored eyes just waiting for his smooth voice.

“Aaron Hotchner, and yours?”

“That was easier than I thought,” you joke before you repeat your name once again, which you feel like you’ll be doing a lot these next couple weeks. You carefully watch his expressions and listen to the inflictions in his voice when he does speak.

He smiles and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms gently as he replies, “That’s surely a beautiful name. May I ask where you’re from? Your accent isn’t from here.”

“Roanoke, Virginia, born and raised. What about you, Aaron?”

“Aah, that’s it, I should’ve guessed. Manassas actually, not too far from here. Just about a two and a half hour drive, depending on the traffic.”

“Wait,” you start before sitting up and leaning your other arm on the back of the chair and using your hands to talk, “so you’re telling me, you’ve lived in Virginia your whole life right?”

Aaron nods his head with a slight smirk on his face, watching you trying to put the pieces together.

“But you don’t have any kinda accent? Like, just none whatsoever?” Your voice raises a bit towards the end of your question, just because you’re genuinely curious on how this man doesn’t have any sort of accent or country twang to it at all.

“That’s right-“

Before Aaron can fully answer your question, he gets interrupted by Dr. Miller, “Welcome to Psychology 101, my dear students. I am Doctor Joel Miller and I will be your professor for this class.”

You and Aaron quickly stop your conversation and focus on Dr. Miller who’s introducing the course to everyone. You were so caught up in conversation that you didn’t even notice the seats that were empty, are now full. After a minute, out of the corner of your left eye you watch as Aaron slides a small piece of paper over to you. Without looking at him, you grab the note and look at it.

My phone number, 202-896-0089 ;)

You fold up the paper and put it in your back pocket. Quickly, you glance over to Aaron and you notice he has this cocky smirk that fades just as fast as it appeared. Your stomach is flipping with joy and anticipation, you wonder what this could turn into. Turning your full attention to the front of the classroom, the eye candy of a professor, Dr. Miller is back by the chalkboard, going over the syllabus for the class.

#aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #they always come back

100 notes · View notes

tieronecrush · 9 months

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter two: lips of an angel

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 5.1k

a/n: thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing this series for me <333 love you bestie, the only one i'd wanna be a sister wife with

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Nice To Meet You?

Hey,

I got an email that we were matched for Sweet Temptations. I figured I would reach out and introduce myself, maybe get to know you a bit if you are alright with that.

Feel free to call me Javi. I am honestly not sure what else I’m meant to do in an introduction like this. I promise I am normally much smoother than this, or at least more human and less awkward.

It’s nice to meet you, and to be matched up with you, Angel. If that’s what I should call you?

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hi Javi!

It’s nice to meet you too, and hopefully, we get to meet in person. These first emails are always awkward no matter how many I’ve sent or received, so please be assured that, honestly, that was one of the better ones I’ve gotten. :)

I normally like to ask what you’re looking for out of this “arrangement” (I hate calling it that, it sounds so impersonal) and maybe you can tell me some fun facts about you if you want to share!

I can go first for the fun facts:

Green is my favorite color

I unironically love the song MMMBop by Hansen (which is unexpected if you saw the rest of my tape and CD collection)

My current favorite movie is Romeo + Juliet that came out a couple of years ago cause Paul Rudd <3

That’s about all that I can think of as I sit in bed and type this so hopefully that is sufficient enough!

TTYL Javi,

Angel

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hey Angel

Paul Rudd is pretty likable, I’ll give you that. Is he your type? Cause I hate to break it to you sweetheart but I don’t really look like him. Both have dark hair but that’s about where the similarities stop. And Romeo + Juliet huh? Must be a bit of a romantic.

And MMMBop…it is catchy. I have to stop myself humming it at work these days.

As for what I’m looking for, I guess I just want someone to spend some time with. Whatever comes of it, comes of it, but I don’t want to really have any expectations. Just wanna get to know you, Angel.

Took me a while to think of some fun facts:

I grew up on a cattle ranch right on the border of Mexico in Southern Texas

When I was little (like 9/10 years old) my primos dared me to enter a rodeo for Mutton Busting (chasing a sheep around to try to catch it)

A CD of Selena stays in my car at all times, and yes, I know all the words

Hope those were fun enough for you, Angel.

And I hope you have a good day today.

The emails continued for about a week and a half, Javier slowly became more comfortable with the virtual communications. Angel was bubbly, and sweet, always asking him questions and always interested in hearing about his day or what his favorite book was. It was either his loneliness or a newfound desperation that had his heart skipping when the sound of new mail pinged from his desktop.

It felt a bit strange to have such normal exchanges with Angel and be reminded of the circumstances with his bank statement for the charges that the service takes monthly. With how personable Angel has been even via email, he finds himself forgetting what exactly brought them together. Maybe all the mystery and excitement will wear off when the two of you meet, but something deep in his gut is telling him that isn’t going to happen.

He drags himself away from his desk, no response from Angel yet today. All he can think about is how he hopes there’s a new message when he comes back, gathering his things to head to the lecture hall for the third week of Sociology of Deviance.

In the beginning, he thought this class was going to be a chore to do. Stuck onto his schedule last minute, had new material to cover, and had an annoying Dean of Faculty checking in on him much more often because of it. However, a handful of sessions in, he’s got a bit of a skip in his step to rush over there, the familiar jump in his stomach when he thinks about you.

The pretty fall floral dresses you’ve started wearing with the change in weather, large cardigans pulled over the top. You’ve worn a few flannels over your shoulders, clearly oversized and he feels a prick of jealousy whenever he sees you in them.

Do you have a boyfriend? Are those shirts his?

What would you look like in one of his button-downs?

Christ, the thoughts won’t stop no matter how hard he tries. Another reason why he is attempting to completely throw himself into this new “arrangement”, hoping it would be a means to an end to his crush on his student.

That’s what it is. He has a fucking crush.

He hasn’t had a crush in years.

Laying everything out for the class session, he starts writing the discussion points on the board. At the sound of the door violently swinging open and a rumble of loud footsteps rushing, he looks over his shoulder to see you, belongings in your arms and clearly flustered. His jaw drops open to ask if you’re alright, making a burning flash of eye contact with you before you drop your head, embarrassed, and find your seat.

Turning back to the chalkboard, he shakes his head minutely, rolling his shoulders before continuing his writing, white powder from the chalk coating his fingers. Instead of his normal thoughts of you, he keeps fighting the urge to ask if you’re okay. In the short time he’s known you if you could even say that about your dynamic, he knows it’s very unusual for you to come in that incomposed. He wipes the residue off on his pants, facing the class.

While he teaches, his eyes continue to wander to you, oddly quiet when you would normally be engaged in the discussion. That kid Alex, obnoxious from the jump, is taking up far too much air time in this class, and Javier can’t help the annoyance on his face as he leans back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for this kid to finish his long-winded, and incorrect answer.

You scoff audibly at a point that Alex made, piquing Javier’s attention. The two of you make eye contact again, and Javier suddenly unravels one arm from his chest, holding it up toward Alex.

“Excuse me, Alex, I respect your points but I think there might be some counters to your arguments. I want to be able to hear them before we move on,” Javier calls out your name, and his head snaps to you, nodding encouragingly, “What were your thoughts?”

“Oh, um, I was going to say that I don’t think that socioeconomic or social standing is the only explanation for the makeup of the prison system. And I think it’s pretty naive to think that it’s only rich people that get off with less severe punishments.” Javier watches your shoulders tense a bit at the obvious eye roll from Alex, the pen in between your fingers bouncing with nerves.

“Do you mind expanding on that? I’m interested in what you think is another reason,” Javier holds eye contact with you, the slightest smile on his face to reassure you to stand your ground in the argument.

“I mean, to me, It’s pretty obvious that the biggest reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. White people dominate the political landscape and the prejudices, even unconscious bias, contribute to the makeup of the incarcerated population. Judges will give favorable or less severe punishments to white defendants, and of course, class biases are a thing, especially because of the cost of criminal defense, but I think the overt, umbrella reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. It’s built into the systems of government, which is pretty depressing…”

You trail off and laugh awkwardly at the silence in the room, some classmates nodding in agreement while some are unphased, uninterested.

“That’s good. That’s exactly what I was hoping would be brought up by someone,” Javier nods to you, pointing in your direction before he rounds the desk to start writing on the board for students to take down in their notes.

In your seat, you start to copy down into your notebook, glancing up to see him look over his shoulder at you. One corner of his mouth lifts, a smile in his eyes as you try to bite back your own grin that threatens to expose how much you enjoyed his short praises.

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Wanna Meet Up?

Hiiii Javi

I’ve had such a shitty day today, but honestly, I was still excited to be able to come home and talk to you. :)

Do you think you’d be interested in meeting in person this weekend? I’m free Saturday night if you are. LMK!

Hope your day was better than mine!

xoxo,

Angel

Plans were made to meet Saturday night around eight o’clock. Javier had chosen a bar he’d become familiar with on those nights when he couldn’t sleep, when the memories of Colombia were too much when he couldn’t stop thinking about those damn boats that were in his backyard.

The place is small, intimate, and quiet enough to hold a conversation — which he knew from the one or two times he’d picked up someone and brought them back to his apartment. There was always some sort of live music, usually some jazz or folksy blues, that could fill any first-date awkward silences.

In his last email to her, Javier told Angel that he’d be in the back of the bar, at a table for two, wearing jeans and a red short-sleeve button-up shirt. He makes sure to arrive first, getting there a bit overly early at 7:30 to snag a table and order himself a drink to calm his nerves. Pounding the glass back on the bar top, he orders another whiskey neat to nurse until she arrives.

This is a different feeling than he’s had before a date. Nerves aren’t normally his thing when it comes to women, but something about this night feels higher stakes than before.

Get it together, Javi. It’s a date, if it goes horribly, you don’t have to do it again. Plus, she doesn’t even need to be interested in you, this is her job.

When you arrive at the tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar, you nod thanks to the man holding the door for you, rolling your eyes when you get a comment from him that you didn’t ask for.

“Nice tits, sweetheart.” He slurs and sends you a wink that is definitely more of a blink. You slip past him without issue, scanning the small area for the man with dark hair and a red shirt on. At this point, with how many times you’ve done this, you’re normally not nervous to meet these men in person. It’s something you’re obligated to do, like showing up for any other job, and that’s how you treat it.

But this time around, something’s different. Talking with Javier has actually been….nice? He’s responsive and wants to get to know you, never taking more than a day to get back to you. He’s asked you more questions about yourself than anyone else has before and he always, always wants to hear about your day. If you weren’t careful, you could see yourself getting attached.

Well, getting attached if he’s anything like you’ve imagined him. Or who you’ve imagined him to be.

The only red shirt you can spot is on a man sitting at a table toward the back, facing away from the door and toward the stage in the corner where a jazz trio is playing a low, crooning song. Biting back a smile, you start to make your way over to him, admiring him from behind.

It’s broad shoulders and a strong neck, muscles flexing as he adjusts in his seat. His dark, chocolatey hair is combed nicely, so much so that you can’t help but have the thought of running your fingers through it and messing it up.

Dressed in a black dress with blotted red lips, you weave in between people, ignoring anyone else as you keep your eyes on the man you’re here to meet. Javi stays facing forward, watching the band play even as you stand behind him, cheated to his side a bit. Holding your breath, you lean closer and tap him on his shoulder.

“Um, excuse me, Javi?”

At the sound of his name, Javier turns over his shoulder to his right, a smile on his face already from the honeyed kindness in her voice. She did really sound like an angel for a second there before he realized where the sound was coming from.

“Yeah, I’m Ja—“ The sound stops in his throat when he is facing you. Your supple lips with the dainty Cupid’s bow, rouged cheeks, and gentle smile; normally in a nice dress or cardigan in class, but here you’re wearing much less material, more of your skin on display.

What would it be like to kiss it?

No. That is not ever going to happen.

Those doe eyes hold an innate tenderness that he couldn’t imagine ever being privy to, but here he was, under the stare of those and it was making him sweat. He can only imagine what he looks like to you at the moment, eyes wide and mouth blubbering to speak like a fish gasping for air.

You recognized him at the same time, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the word vomit threatening to come out. If it did, you know you would end up spilling how honestly excited you are that the man you’ve been emailing with has turned out to be Professor Peña. You’ve harbored a bit of a crush on him for the last few weeks, ever since that smile he gave you when you introduced yourself after the first session. It had been burning moments of eye contact, and those gentle encouragements from him.

Hell, after class this week when he praised your counterarguments, you thought about his voice saying “That’s good” over and over while you laid in your bed that night, coming with the image of him over you in record time.

The first word out of his mouth is your name, tone flicked up at the end in a question. He grumbles to himself as he moves to stand up, forgetting his drink on the table.

“Fuck, this is bad…” He whispers under his breath, shaking his head at himself as he runs his hands on the sides of his jeans. “I’m so sorry.”

He steps back to further the distance between you two, awkwardly avoiding your eyes as he attempts to recover his professionalism.

“It’s alr—“

“I had no idea it was you. This is completely inappropriate, I apologize. I should leave, uh, and I completely understand if you need to change out of my class. I know it’s past the cut-off date, but I would help if you needed—”

“Javi — can I call you that?” He considers it for a moment before nodding, rigidity evident in his body, “Javi, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize, neither of us knew before this moment…But I do have to say, I wouldn’t tell.”

“Uh, I’m sorry — what?”

“I wouldn’t say anything. If you wanted to sit down and have a drink, or a few, and get to know each other like we planned to, I wouldn’t say a word. Even if you weren’t interested after this, I promise, the secret’s safe with me.”

Javier can’t deny how much he was looking forward to meeting the woman he was emailing with. And he can’t deny that he’s had his eyes on you since that first meeting. Hell, he can barely control his thoughts around you.

Of course, it had to be you. The two people he can’t get out of his head have turned out to be only one person, and of course, it’s you.

“If it informs your decision, I would love to get to know you more, Javi.”

He stutters through his thoughts out loud before resigning with a sigh, taking a breath as he forms his response, “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Definitely. Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Now, may I join you?” You gesture to the empty chair and Javi nods quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Here, let me get that.” He visibly relaxes a bit, falling into a routine he knows well. Rounding the small table, he pulls your chair out for you before settling in the seat opposite. Shortly after, a server comes around and takes your drink orders, Javier looking to you to go first. After the order is placed, the server leaves the two of you in silence at the table.

Another beat passes before Javier speaks, saying what you both are thinking, “Sorry, I just, cannot believe it happened to be you.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a lilt of humor in your voice, sitting up in the chair to move toward him, “Don’t think I would be into all this?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but—Actually I should not say what I was about to say,” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Oh, c’mon, what were you gonna say?”

“Nope, definitely not going to tell you, sweetheart,” he smirks at you and then adjusts in his seat awkwardly, “Oh, ‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have sa—“

“Javi. It’s fine, just relax. You’re not making me uncomfortable at all if that’s what you’re worried about,” you give him a sincere smile, reaching across to hold his arm that’s lying on the table, “It’s actually kind of nice to have those nicknames coming from you and not some other creepy men who contact me.”

“Why’s that?” He echoes your question from moments before, eyebrows raising in curiosity and the same smirk growing on his face, glancing down at your hand on him.

“I shouldn’t say what I was about to say,” you attempt to imitate his voice, laughing at the end when he gives you a look that says ‘Really?’.

“I don’t sound like that, cariño. But that’s a good try. Now what is it that makes me nicer than the other men you’ve seen?”

‘That’s a good try.’ This man.

“And how do you know that? I could be nailing what you sound like to other people. You hear your voice differently.” You poke his arm pointedly, moving your hand toward your lap again. Before it leaves the table, Javier stretches his arm across, catching your fingers with his. He holds them loosely in his, running his thumb across your knuckles as he keeps eye contact with you.

“I’ve heard my voice enough in press conferences that were televised, angel. I don’t sound like that,” he uses his free hand to take a sip of his whiskey, “And don’t try to change the subject. I wanna know what you are gonna say.”

“I could say the same thing to you. We both have our secrets tonight,” you take a sip of your drink and shrug, “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Nice negotiating, cariño, but I think I’d have to have a few more of these if I was going to share mine.” He raises his glass a couple of inches off the table, the amber liquid sloshing around before he sets it down again.

You’d say anything to get him to keep giving you praise like that all the time.

Grabbing your own glass, you lift it to him and smile, “Well, only one of these and I’ll be spilling all my dirty secrets.”

Javier’s jaw notches to the side as you say that, biting his cheek before he takes his hand from yours and runs his thumb across his bottom lip to the corner.

Inside his chest, he feels his heart beating faster and feels his blood rushing south, that same damn smile of yours that you give him from rows away in class doing the same damn thing it does to him there.

Half of him is wondering how he can make you smile like that all the time.

The other half wants to wipe that smile off of your face and have you whimpering.

What would you look like under him?

Jesus Christ, he’s way far gone.

Javier’s had three more whiskeys on top of his previous three. You’ve had about four drinks yourself.

The evening has devolved into something much more casual, breezy; conversation has flowed between you two, finding things in common and swapping stories that have the other laughing. From the serious professor in class, this more easy-going Javi is refreshing to see and definitely makes your crush a lot worse, somersaulting stomach and warm, syrupy flood across your whole body.

The subject has returned to the evening’s secrets, you asking him again to share what he was going to say.

“Please, Javi, it can’t be any more embarrassing than what mine is. I’ll tell you what I was gonna say if you promise to tell me.” You extend your arm, fingers closed into a fist beside your pinky.

He looks at your hand, debating internally before deciding ‘fuck it’ and links his little finger with yours.

“I promise, cariño,” he smiles and nods for you to share, “What are you dying to tell me so that you can hear what I was gonna say?”

“The affection from you is nice cause, I don’t know, you feel…safe. When I first started, I was getting some weird men that wanted to meet, and—This has just been fun,” you resign with a soft smile, “Plus it helps that you’re hot. Got the whole smoldering cop with the porn stache thing.”

“Smoldering cop with the porn stache? I didn’t realize that was a thing,” he laughs, the crinkles next to his eyes deepening before he takes your hand lying on the table, “I’m glad this has been fun for you. After all that shock and awkwardness at the beginning, I think it’s been really nice to get to know you, angel.”

“Alright, I shared my little secret, you share yours now.”

Javier sighs, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. He takes a moment to speak before he meets your eyes, a resistant smirk on his face, “You are really gonna make me say this?”

“You pinky promised! I didn’t make you do that, there’s no coercion here, Javier.”

“Fine, fine. You’re too quick, cariño,” he squeezes your fingers with his, “I was gonna say before that I couldn’t believe it happened to be you ‘cause—It’s stupid, really, but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since that first class, querida.”

“A crush? The sexy Professor Peña has a crush on me?”

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Can’t keep ‘em off of you, cariño. Too beautiful. And you’re fucking on it all the time, so goddamn smart. I really am convinced you should be teaching for me,” he glances down sheepishly, feeling exposed from his tipsy confession.

The surface of your cheeks heats up, feeling a tingle down your spine when his eyes meet yours again. Leaning forward across the table, you bite your bottom lip as you drink him all in.

“D’you think I’ll ever be able to properly pay attention in class again after that?”

“You better, sweetheart. Just cause I’ve got a crush on you doesn’t mean you’ll get a good grade. Not gonna go easy on you. Fair’s fair.”

“Mm, I don’t mind it hard. I prefer it that way, actually. Makes it much more satisfying when you finish.” Your tongue wets your lips before you take your bottom one between your teeth, watching as Javier’s eyes darken at your double entendre.

He shakes his head, giving you a knowing look about your mischievous word choice, “Better be ready for a challenge then, angel.”

“Always, Peña.”

It’s late now, verging on turning into Sunday; the hours flew by with each other. Javier noticed the time on his watch, the crowd in the bar was sparse in spots that were full when he got there. When he looks at you, your eyelids look heavy, and those normally wide and bright eyes, eager and excited, look drowsy and content, so close to slipping closed and turning your mind off for the night.

“You ready to head out, angel? We’ll go find you a cab.” He asks with a subtle smile on his face, scooting out of his chair and standing, offering a hand to you.

“Yeah, m’ready.” You rise after taking his hand, hiking your small rectangular bag over your shoulder and stepping closer to him as he switches which hand is holding yours. Right in right, he grips yours from the outside of your palm, fingers lacing together as he presses his left into the small of your back, weaving between the patrons and out the front door.

The air is crisp when the door breaks open, cool air surrounding your warm, alcohol-blanketed bodies. Javier's touch still surrounds you, your right shoulder pressing into his chest when you turn to say something to him.

He takes a step back, allowing you the space to rotate fully in his arms, meeting his eyes and feeling a grin toy at your lips.

“Tonight was nice.”

“It was. Think I should be saying thanks to you. M’glad you had me stay.”

“Yeah? Well, m’happy to hear that cause I was gonna say, if you wanted to keep this up — meeting up, the arrangement all of that — if you wanted to keep it up for the semester, I would happily keep the secret. Y’know, you help me, I help you kind of thing. We just have fun.”

Javier considers the offer, ticking his jaw as he debates internally. On one hand, it’s a massive risk. The two of you could be seen out with each other, or if anyone noticed anything different in class, it could jeopardize his job, and possibly your degree. But on the other hand, if every night with you is like this one, he’s hard-pressed to say no. You’re funny and intelligent and beautiful — sure, there’s the element of how you two met and what happens behind the scenes, money taken out of his account monthly and forwarded to you through the service — but with the way you’ve had his heart pumping from your sweetness and his cock half hard at how turned on you have him constantly, he really can’t find a fuck to give about the risk.

“Alright. If you are in for it, I definitely am, angel,” he grins at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips when his eyes flit to yours, the faint red lipstick of yours still holding strong.

“Good, Javi. That’s good,” your voice is a purr, a smug smirk playing at your lips when he leans in closer, walking you back towards the brick facade of the bar. His knees nearly give out when he hears those small praises, already waiting for the next time you speak them to him.

“Can I…?” he trails off, the tip of his nose only an inch from yours.

“You can kiss me, Javi.”

Without wasting another second, he catches his lips with yours, gentle at first with soft, delicate kisses exchanged. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, a breathy whimper parting your mouth enough for him to lick into it, melting his tongue with yours. One of his hands moves to hold your jaw, the other stagnant at your hip. A step closer brings him flush against you, quiet moans muffled into each other’s mouths.

The roughness of the brick is harsh against your bare skin on display, the contrasting sensations pooling arousal in between your legs. Javier tastes like tobacco, whiskey, and mint gum; an interesting combination but an intoxicating one. His hand at your hip moves around to your ass, pulling you off the wall slightly and against him, his growing bulge felt against your torso.

Before the two of you can get completely lost in each other, you pull away, hands on his chest. A taxi pulls up at that moment, honking its horn in question if you need a ride. You wave to him and ask for one minute with your fingers, turning back to Javi standing in front of you a bit breathless.

“I should go. Got some reading to do for this class on Monday that I’ve got.”

“Oh, yeah? Hope your professor hasn’t been killing you with the readings,” he smirks back at you.

“Nah, he hasn’t been killing me but seems like he does really wanna give it to me. Must have some high expectations,” your voice is coated with a lilt of teasing, winking at him as you slip from his arms.

He follows close behind to walk you to the cab, a hand finding your back and dropping down to graze his fingers across your ass.

“Think you’ll have no trouble exceeding those expectations, angel. Plus you could always ask for one-on-one tutoring or some extra credit.” It’s his turn to wink, opening the rear door for you and helping you in.

“Glad I have your confidence, Javi. Here, gimme your phone I’ll give you my number.” You reach out and he fumbles it from his pocket, passing it off to you. The information is quickly entered and saved, handing his device back to him and looking up at him from the seat of the cab.

“I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

Javier grew up religious, his mamá dragging him to church every Sunday. He’s only been back to church at the major holidays he’s been home, leaving behind any spiritual side of him. All the concepts of eternal souls and heaven and hell meant nothing to him.

However, tonight, he felt an inkling to believe that heaven was real, and he had met an angel.

His angel.

tagging those from last time: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST, PLEASE FILL THIS FORM OUT! thank you!

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña x afab!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

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natashaslittlegirl · 1 year

Text

Romanoff's Assistant Characters

Natasha Romanoff / Natalia Alianovna Romanova

31 years old, born in Moscow (Russsia)

Redhead, wavy/straight hair, mid-shoulder

Tall, 1.70cm

Green eyes

Skinny, hourglass body

Authoritative, charismatic, seductive, possesive, jealous, flirtatious, serious, stubborn, reserved, attractive, assertive, persuasive, demanding, compliant, determined, formal, independent, convincing, ambitious, analytical, educated, intelligent, objective

Graduate in NYU in Psychology master degree, owner of her company, Romanoff's Company

Past relationship, Wanda Maximoff (current best friend)

Wanda Maximoff

29 years old, born in Sokovia (Russia)

Light brown, blonde highlights, past shoulder

Tall, 170cm

Green eyes

Skinny

Charming, flirtatious, funny, caring, attractive, captivating, authoritative (kinda), possessive, jealous, kind,motional, determined, energetic, enthusiastic, reliable, honest, mature, patient, persuasive, convincing

Graduate in NYU in Psychology and Child's Psychology masters degree, owner of her company, Maximoff New Vision

Past relationships, Natasha Romanoff (current best friend), Yelena Belova (Natasha's sister but it was just one night stand)

Y/N Y/L/N

21 years old, born in Ney York (USA)

y/h (your height)

y/e/c (your eye color)

Flirtatious, charming, sweet, caring, funny, overthinker, extrovert, atractive, stubborn, kind, emotional, responsible, mature, convincing, responsible, smart (REALLY smart)

Graduate in NYU with in Child's Psychology, Mindfulness, Criminology, Neuropsychology master degree. Currently working in Romanoff's Company

Past relationships, none

Kate Bishop

25 years old, born in New York (USA)

Tall, 170cm

Green/brown eyes

Skinny, curvy

Funny, extrovert, flirtatious, authentic, emotional, easy-going, efficient, energetic, enthusiastic, reliable, motivating, responsible, sincere

Working in 'The Barista' since 2021

Past relationships, none

Yelena Belova

27 Years old, born in Moscow (Russia)

Blonde, straight, mid shoulder

Light green eyes

Curvy

Hilarious, funny, extrovert, easy-going, atractive, emotional, charismatic, charming, persuasive, flirtatious, energetic, reliable

Graduate in NYU with master degree in Law, currently working in Maximoff New Vision

Past relationships, Wanda Maximoff (Natasha's best friend but it was just one night stand) (she's not asexual here! this is an AU)

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff's Masterlist RA Masterlist

#Romanoff's Asisstant #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #black widow #elizabeth olsen smut #lizzie olsen #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #yelena my beloved #yelena belova #kate bishop #katelena

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silverbladexyz · 1 year

Note

hi! i see u often write hc's but do u take one-shot requests as well? if not, then pls feel free to ignore this!

i'd like to request for a dazai x fem!reader one-shot in which reader is a new member of the ADA and when dazai sees her for the first time, he instantly feels smth like love at first sight (yea ik it's cheesy sorry idk how to word it🥲). reader just shrugs off his not-so-occasional flirting and just casually thanks him when he gives her compliments cus she's heard stories about this side of him (being a playboy, womanizer etc) so she thinks he's just treating her like how he usually treats any pretty girl he sees, not knowing dazai is actually far smitten and is srsly head over heels for her lol

tysm!!!

Anon I'm so so sorry that this took so long!! This idea is quite nice since flirty Dazai is funny ahahaha. I tried my best with this oneshot :’).

The image used is not mine. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: Mentions of suicide (Dazai)

Dazai with a fem!reader who thinks that he's just a friend

"Oh, Dazai-san, have you heard of the new recruit that's joining us tomorrow?"

Dazai looked up at Tanizaki, eyebrows slightly raised in interest. It seemed that everybody except for him knew the news, however Dazai knew perfectly well that it was because he ditched work too often.

No matter. He'd just ask Atsushi to fill him in on the news.

"A new recruit? Since when?"

"Since a few days ago... but you were too busy jumping into the river and I had to fetch you, and I somehow scraped myself pulling you out, and I had to be treated by Yosano-sensei..." Tanizaki shuddered as he recalled the 'treatment' that Yosano had given him.

"Go on. The new recruit?"

"Ah, right! She's Haruno's cousin, and she's just turned 20. She's currently studying criminology and criminal psychology, and her grades are at the top of her year level. I haven't met her yet, but she seems like a nice person." Tanizaki said.

"I see... that's so amazing! I finally would have a new double suicide partner! Ah, I simply cannot wait for tomorrow!" Dazai's eyes sparkled in excitement as Tanizaki laughed nervously, however a familiar green notebook whacked the top of Dazai's head.

"Stop it, you idiot. You don't want to scare her off on her first day tomorrow, and the Agency's already received so many complaints because of you! And as for the double suicide, I'll wring your neck with my own fingers, how about that?!" Kunikida reprimanded, while Dazai pouted childishly.

"But Kunikida-kuuun! I've been waiting for months for a beautiful lady to come by the Agency, and I've already gotten the ideal double suicide spot! Ne, do you want to hear about it? It's a lovely spot near Yokohama where-"

"I don't want to hear about your suicide antics or whatever! Just make sure that you behave yourself tomorrow, or else I'll actually wring your neck myself!"

Tanizaki laughed nervously as he watched the banter between the two Armed Detective Agency employees. He sure hoped that Dazai wouldn't scare off the new girl tomorrow, because then the Agency would have an enraged Kunikida out for a certain suicidal maniac's blood and it certainly would not be a sight to see.

~~~

“Welcome, Y/N L/N, to the Armed Detective Agency.”

When Dazai saw the girl who entered through the door, his chest seized and it suddenly felt very hot.

Oh no. Oh no no no no. Don’t tell me that I’m-

You raised your head, smiling the sweetest smile that made one’s heart melt when they looked at it.

“Feel free to call me Y/N, everyone. I hope that I will be able to make friends with everybody and contribute well to the Armed Detective Agency.” Your voice was impossibly sweet and clear, as if every melody in the world belonged to you. Those dashing E/C eyes and gorgeous H/C hair contributed even more to your beautiful self in general. Dazai felt his heart leap.

Yup. He was undeniably crushing on you.

~~~

A few months had gone by since you started working at the Armed Detective Agency, and you were liking it so far.

Yosano and Naomi had become your best friends, with Tanizaki and Kyouka close behind. Atsushi was still a little shy around you, but he liked talking with you. Ranpo talked about his cases a lot, Haruno kept losing her cat, and Kunikida was forever fed up with Dazai’s antics.

Speaking of Dazai, the suicidal maniac was quite energetic and flirtatious around you. He would cunningly turn situations into pickup lines, and complimented you everyday. You would’ve been flustered and perhaps even catching feelings for him were it not the fact that he was a womaniser and a playboy. Haruno had warned you about this side of him, because she didn’t want to see her cousin hurt and broken-hearted because of Dazai.

Unbeknownst to you, everybody in the Agency could clearly see how big of a crush Dazai had on you. Every time you forgot something he would bring it, whenever it was the end of the week there was always a gift of some sort lying on your office table, and not to mention he would actually do his paperwork when you asked him to. Kunikida was glad that you were keeping Dazai in check, however he himself was already wishing that Dazai would confess to you and for you to return the suicidal maniac’s feelings, because everybody was frankly a bit scared of Dazai acting non-Dazai like.

It was one lazy afternoon when Dazai approached you, looking quite confident and... different. The rest of the Agency quickly caught on to what was going to happen, and held their breaths, hoping that it would be successful. You looked up towards the man, your expression innocent and oblivious.

“May I help you, Dazai-san?” You asked in that sweet and beautiful voice that sent Dazai’s heart beating at 205bpm.

He took your hand and laid a kiss on it. You were slightly confused at this new behaviour, but you brushed it off, thinking that Dazai was just playfully flirting with you again. This wasn’t the first time that he held your hand, afterall.

“My belladonna... you’re as graceful and elegant like a swan in a crystal lake. You were the only one who could make me fall into the longing passion called love. So I ask you,” he leaned closer.

“Would you return my feelings of affection, and we may finally be the lovers that we were always destined to be?”

You had to fight to keep your blush in, because even though you harboured no romantic feelings for Dazai, he sure knew how to make you flustered and make your heartbeat quicken. You smiled, and opened your mouth to answer him, not noticing the tension building around the room.

“You’re really nice, Dazai-san. I really must say...” Everybody seemed to lean forward, desperate to hear a ‘yes’ from you.

“You’re such a fun friend to me.”

And with that, the entire Armed Detective Agency, even the Director himself, let out a huge, collective sigh at Dazai’s (and theirs) misfortune.

Hope you enjoyed, even though this is so bad ;-;

@pixyys @pianotross @nekokinax @yuugen-benni @xxelfmamaxx @catzlivedforbsd @ashthemadwriter

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #this is so bad #silverbladexyz

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1eaf-me-alone · 4 months

Text

𝖀𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖊

This is my Secret Santa for @st6rly I hope you enjoy, have a great Christmas if you celebrate, if not happy holidays :)

Summary: In which you’re working in a coffee shop near Christmas Eve and Heizou wonders in to keep you company.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None.

length: 1.9k words.

Other: modern au, reader works in coffee shop, the relationship between the reader and Heizou is established, Heizou is a criminology student, and both are in college/university, Gender-neutral reader

— — — — — — — —

The coffee shop was filled with an array of people overflowing onto the polished wooden tables which cascaded with chatter and laughter.

Christmas decorations adorned the walls and golden tinsel had been carefully taped along the ceilings. A pretty garland of lush red berries and deep green holy hung below the counters and on top of the cakes. Mistletoe had been appended below the entrance door (an incentive for couples that were in a romantic mood.) A small green Christmas tree stood on the counter next to the till and was embellished with a variety of colourful quaint trinkets and baubles.

The fireplace, which had been lit to combat the unforgiving snowy weather was thriving in the heat of the fire, its ruby red flames licking the logs provided and enveloping anything in its path. Although wild and untamed, the fire still seemed to dance in a captivating manner. The bright yellows and oranges meandered with the reds creating a powerful hue which constantly changed and shifted in the light.

In front of you, an arrangement of freshly baked cakes had just been deposited on the counters. Warm gingerbread cookies, sea-salted gift-shaped caramel swirls and Christmas tree brownies decorated with white spiralling icing all lay in front of you. The sweet and irresistible flavours of spiced cinnamon and aromatic chocolate wafted leisurely up your nose.

You heard the bell of the front door jingle, indicating the entrance of a new customer, and being pulled back into reality, you looked up and saw a familiar-looking face.

A man with maroon hair tired loosely back in a ponytail, vibrant, emerald green eyes and the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth sauntered towards the counters.

“May I have the spiced gingerbread latte?”

You raised your eyebrow “Suprised to see you here, I thought you had that assignment on the history of criminology to complete?” Veering around the counter, you stepped towards the espresso machine.

Heizou nodded.

“I still need to start it, but I needed a break from the same environment and I wanted to visit you so I figured I could revise here.”

Swiftly measuring out and smoothing the dark coffee grinds in the portafilter, you tapped lightly on it and tamped by pressing into the espresso grounds. You apacely inserted the porta filler back into the machine and pressed the gauge button, watching as the previously dust-like coffee grinds transformed into liquid which poured and submerged into the latte glass.

Laying his arm on the counter, Heizou quirked an eyebrow. “When does your shift end?”

Hearing his voice, You glanced up at him and sighed.

“Two hours, unfortunately.”

You quickly grabbed the milk from the mini fridge below the coffee machine, pouring it into the milk jug. Then you turned back towards the espresso machine with the milk in hand and pulled down on the steam arm into the jug. You watched as the jug replenished itself with steam which overflowed out of the container and floated torpidly up in the air.

Heizou’s brows creased hearing your unenthusiastic response.

“You don’t seem too happy about this job.”

Wiping your hand with a handkerchief, you turned quickly back towards him.

“Well, I need the money for university funds and bills.”

You spun back towards the coffee cup adding the espresso first and mixing it with a bag of gingerbread flavouring into the mug. You began to pour the frothed milk into the coffee lowering the milk and steeping your angle to swirl it with the milk. Lastly, you grabbed the cinnamon shaker and tapped lightly onto it as the cinnamon sprinkled onto the coffee.

Tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear and brushing off the coffee granules on your apron, you handed Heizou his coffee.

“A spiced gingerbread latte, hope you enjoy it.”

Heizou beamed, the dimples on his face revealing themselves.

“Why thank you.”

Hearing him say that, a warm smile spread across your face. However, you were quickly pulled away to attend the next person in line. In a momentary glance, you caught sight of Heizou and conveyed your regret with a subtle expression of "I'm busy" and "sorry" Heizou returned your silent apology with a reassuring nod and a mouthed "No worries.”

As you worked diligently, Heizou watched you with a grin that radiated pride. For a brief moment, you disappeared behind the counters, leaving Heizou to take in the coffee shop's ambience. He gazed at the glittering decorations, the colourful atmosphere, and the lights that hung from the ceiling. Holding his drink in hand, he scanned the wooden tables, searching for one that was unoccupied. When he found an empty table, he strolled over to it, pulled a sleek laptop from his bag, and settled into the chair.

I suppose I’ll have to start studying at some point.

Sipping his drink, he started to type.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Darkness had unbeknownst crept upon you. The sun had descended beyond the horizon; a blanket of darkness plummeted upon the sky. From the windows of the coffee shop, the world outside was hardly discernible - only the vague outlines of objects could be seen and deep shadows swooped the trees and buildings, smothering them in temporary darkness. The only sources of light were the newly lit street lamps which framed the snow-covered roads and the twinkling stars above, adorning the sky with speckled patterns.

Once a bustling hub of activity and laughter, the coffee shop now lay empty, save for one individual who remained seated, their laptop resting upon the table. The silence was only broken by the low hum of the coffee machine and the sound of fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

As the clock struck 7 pm, signalling the end of your shift, you carefully removed your work badge and placed it in your pocket. Dusting your hands off, you neatly folded your apron and set it down on the counter. You glanced around the nearly empty café and noticed that only Heizou remained. You smiled as you made your way over to him.

“Did you… wait for my shift to end?”

As soon as he heard the sound of your voice, he swiftly turned his face away from the screen and shifted his gaze towards you. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, everything else seemed to fade away.

“Mhm.”

He looked back up at you. And in a matter-of-fact tone, he commented“You look stunning today, by the way.”

Despite knowing Heizou for so long, you didn’t expect the sudden compliment and felt a sudden rush of heat from your ears. Instinctively, you pulled the strands of your hair down and tugged them over your ears.

Gaining your composure, you smirked "Of course I’m stunning," you flipped your hair back with your hands.

He closed his laptop lid promptly and slipped it into his bag. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief, and his lips curved into a smug smile.

“Are you…blushing?" his tone was laced with a sense of satisfaction and playfulness.

Immediately your masked confidence fell, and about to deny this allegation you opened your mouth to speak, but before you had a chance; Heizou pushed his chair back and stood up from the table “It’s dark outside. We should probably head back to campus soon.”

You nodded.

“Let me put my jacket on.”

You reached for your jacket hanging on the back of your chair. You slipped your arms into the sleeves and pulled the jacket over your body. Hastily, you zipped it up to the top, ensuring that you were well-covered and protected from the chilly air and snow.

You glanced back at Heizou, a look of “I’m ready” in your eyes as he pulled out his hand for you to take. You accepted it and looked outside.

“Let’s go.”

As you both approached the door, you felt a sudden tug on your hand. Looking back, you noticed that Heizou had come to an abrupt halt, causing him to stop in his tracks.

You stared back at him, the words “What are you doing?” About to exit your mouth. You stopped. He was looking up at the wooden frame of the door where the vibrant leaves of the mistletoe hung.

He looked back at you, a smile stretching upon his face.

“Would you like to kiss under the mistletoe?” his question was direct.

You glanced up at the mistletoe, then back at the man in front of you. His big green eyes glittered in the darkness, and a hopeful smile on his face.

You nodded. A soft smile radiated on your face.

Before you had time to react, Heizou leaned forward and embraced you. His heartbeat was thumping loudly against your own. His lips were feathery and cushioned they were smooth and soft and gentle. His hands clasped you and your heart throbbed faster, your head was buzzing, feeling your cheeks grow hot once more. With your eyes closed, you felt his mellow breath against yours, his hair lightly tickling your neck, his eyes half-lidded, eyelashes tickling your face. And then slowly, he stepped back, his face beaming and equally as red as yours.

For a moment, you both stood in silence. Not knowing what to say. The gentle sound of snow falling outside could be heard, accompanied by the temporary howling of the wind as it rustled the branches of the trees.

You looked back at him, with your cheeks still flushing red, and you rubbed the back of your neck. “We should really start heading to campus now, it’s getting late.”

“I agree.”

As you pushed the door of the cafe open, a harsh gust of wind slapped your face and penetrated through your skin, sending a sharp prick all over your body. Its icy fingers seemed to crawl into your bones, making you shudder. You quickly wrapped your coat tighter around your body in a desperate attempt to ward off the chill and find some warmth. "It's freezing out here," you shivered.

“Yes, but look up.” he tapped your shoulder, and gently, Heizou turned your head so you could see what he was pointing at.

The night sky was alive with falling snow, each flake gliding down as if performing a delicate dance amongst the stars. The snowflakes landed ever so softly, wrapping the the ground beneath in a blanket of pure white. The warm glow of the lamps along the path cast a shimmering light upon the snow, illuminating the way ahead. As you walked hand in hand with Heizou, gentle snowflakes landed gracefully upon your nose, eliciting a small laugh from you. Feeling his hand tighten around yours, you both continued your journey home, the snowflakes falling steadily around you like a serene, calming melody.

— — — —

After wandering for a while, you finally arrived at the campus. Heizou had stepped alongside you up the stairs to your dorm until the two of you reached it. You inserted the key into the lock and turned it, feeling a satisfying click as the door unlocked. As you pushed the door open, you turned back to face Heizou and offered him a soft, appreciative smile.

You reached out your hand and gently pulled him towards you, feeling the heat of his body against yours. As you leaned in, you pressed your lips softly against his cheek, savoring the comforting sensation that spread through your body. The moment was fleeting, and you pulled away just as quickly as you had drawn him in.

“Merry Christmas Heizou.”

He grinned.

“Merry Christmas.”

#gixrsecretsanta2023 #Heizou x reader #Genshin x reader #Fluff #Shikanoin Heizou #Christmas fic #genahin impact

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probablyasocialecologist · 4 days

Text

Drawing on various theoretical perspectives such as treadmill of production, world systems theory, and ecological unequal exchange, green criminologists have posited that the adverse outcomes associated with ecological disorganization are tied to the expansionary tendencies of the capitalist world system. Here, ecological disorganization is the sum of the deleterious effects of two connected economic-ecological processes: ecological withdrawals that disrupt ecosystems by removing resources from the environment and ecological additions that disrupt ecosystems by adding pollution to environments. In an effort to promote growth and capital accumulation, in addition to exploiting labor, capitalist must expand the market, which means producing more goods and more demand for those goods. To increase production, capitalism must increase withdrawals of ecological resources, causing ecosystem damage or disorganization. Those raw materials are then fed into the manufacturing process where, applying fossil fuel and chemical energy, other forms of ecological disorganization are created: pollution or ecological additions. Drawing on these insights and from ecological Marxism, green criminologists suggested that the ordinary production of commodities via the capitalist process, creates ecological disorganization and can be conceptualized as a form of green crime from the perspective of nature and also as a form of green/ecological injustice.

Measuring the Ecological Impact of the Wealthy: Excessive Consumption, Ecological Disorganization, Green Crime, and Justice

#crime #Green criminology #capitalism #inequality #environmental justice

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dazedazaii · 5 months

Note

Hi ! ^_^ saw the Christmas event and was wondering if I could join the mistletoe lovers prompt with either Chuuya, Ango or Tachihara?

I go by she/her pronouns (I’m a woman). 5’3 here with one of those fluffy short haircuts (like a wolfcut but a bit shorter). I also wear glasses since my vision sucks and I have green eyes. As for personality, I’d say I’m socially anxious around strangers but extremely talkative and vulgar around people I know. I’m also an introvert and would rather die than be with people.

For interests, I really like art and music ! I do a bit of animation (procreate dreams is KILLING me) in a Scott Pilgrim sort of style. Music genres are of course slutpop, hyperpop and the amazing cunt-ry music. I’m also looking forward towards studying criminology and sociology! I find the mindset of criminals to be very interesting. So that’s shit I like, so now here’s the things I hate <3. I hate being cold and always sleep with five to six blankets because I freeze so easily. I always have cold hands too apparently.

Love language would be words of affirmation because who doesn’t like being complimented (me, anyway). Quality time would be a close second because I’m clingy to people I like and constantly want to be around them. Physical touch isn’t necessarily my favorite but I’d fucking gladly throw myself onto Chuuya at any given moment the minute I saw him.

thanks for the event Haein ! U_U make sure to rest and take your time

hi anon ! thanks so much for being my first ask for this event (o^ ^o)

i match you up with ranpo !

i feel as if you two would have some things in common appearance wise; the glasses, hair, eye color … you two become close pretty fast

adores your major. maybe the two of you could start working together in the future !!

encourages you to speak up for yourself more around strangers if you want to be majoring in criminology and sociology. that kind of job requires lots of talk to strangers, he says …

we have similar music taste, anon ! though, ranpo told me it’s too loud for his liking … you can catch him listening to ur type of music if ur extra sneaky ⁽͑˙˚̀ᵕ˚́˙⁾̉

don’t worry about getting cold ! ranpos body runs hot ! plus, when sleeping with him, your six blankets are all gonna be tossed to the ground as he rolls around and snoozes away

if your hands are feeling extra chilly, ranpos got you. his hands are wrapped around yours and warming them up, scolding you and talking alllll about his day. you have no choice but to listen, unfortunately

he praises you for almost whatever; eating and drinking well, coming home after a long day of school or work, etc

quality time is very important to him, i bet. ranpo gets busy easily, and can’t always be with you, so, as a filler, he’s stuck to you like glue at the agency and makes sure to share a little bit of his snacks !

as for physical touch, ranpos your guy ! his hands are allll over you. whines whenever he doesn’t get a kiss every ten minutes. tell him to back off and he’ll pout but do so

#haein’s christmas event >ᴗ<#bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs ranpo #bsd ranpo #edogawa ranpo #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #ranpo x you #혜인 🖋️#> from anon !

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 1 year

Text

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [3]

chapter three, act one: antichrist

June 3rd 2011

The consistent knocking annoys Tommie, she groans, pillow over her head as she tries to block it out, but when she hears the letter box open and the familiar annoying accent float through the house she knows she can no longer ignore it.

“Tommie! Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom-”

“What!”

“Happy Birthday!”

Matty grins, holding a large balloon with two large numbers of ‘12’ written on it.

Despite her annoyance at her early wake up she smiles, “Thank you. I’m not twelve.”

He hands her the balloons as he pushes his way inside, “I have good news for you.”

“What?” She asks immediately.

“Some guy is supposed to be coming to our next gig, to watch us perform, if it all goes well, there could be some producing talks going on.”

“Really?”

There’s a skip in her step as she walks towards the kitchen to put the kettle on, twirling around to lean her back against the counter.

“Really,” He says, “And, I think it would help a lot if, maybe, you were there for it.”

Her shoulders drop and she looks down at her feet, the same slippers from last year on her feet, “Matty…”

“Tommie…” He repeats in the drawn out tone.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Come on, Tom.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When are you working?” He asks.

She sighs looking away but he presses again, “When you in next?”

“Wednesday.”

“Great, pack a bag.”

“Matty-”

“You have six days, I’ll take you up today, you can relax for a day, help us out Saturday night, and I’ll bring you back Tuesday.”

“I have an exam Thursday, I have to revise.”

“Bring your stuff, I’ll help you.”

“With psychology and criminology?”

“Sure, why not, I can tell you all about drug charges.” He flashes that smile she hates (loves) and then steps towards her. “Please?” He flutters his lashes up at her, “For us? For me?”

“Fine.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

June 4th 2011

“Best show yet.” Ross grins, sweaty arm slinging over Tommie’s shoulder as he steps off stage, green bass guitar in one hand and her green guitar in his other.

She grins up at him, cheeks still flushed and eyes bright, almost reflecting the stage lights that had been pointing at them.

“I hated every second of that.”

Adam comes up to the other side of her, hand on her back, “You’ll grow used to it.”

“No, no,” She shakes her head quickly, “This is a one-time thing, Ads.”

“Tommie, you were a natural talent up there-” He tries to argue.

“Stage life isn’t for me, Adam, not right now.”

She squeals as she’s suddenly tackled from behind, Matty swings her around laughing into her skin where his head is buried into her shoulder, “Givin’ Jimi Hendrix a run for his money out there, Tommie.”

“You’re just saying that.” She says, nudging him away and relishing in the cool air that hits their skin as he opens the back door for her to step outside.

The pair walk down the alley a little, Matty searching his pockets for his cigarettes and taking two out.

He shakes his head, “No, I mean it. You know me, sweetheart, always telling the truth.” His words are muffled as he places both cigarettes in his mouth to light them, only when they have both been successfully lit- after Tommie had cupped both hands around his mouth to shield them from the wind- does he remove one to give to her.

She turns away, acting as if she is blowing the smoke out the other way, whereas in reality, she’s fighting back the blush at the new nickname.

She’s a redhead, they blush easily.

“Don’t shy away,” Matty says, nudging her hip with his own, “I mean it, Tom, you’re great. Almost the best.”

“Almost?”

He shrugs, “Got a little ways to go before you become better than me.”

She looks up at the stars above them, smiling at the moon. Matty follows her gaze, smiling to himself as he walks up behind her, chest to her back, chin brushing the top of her head.

“Pretty, huh?”

“What?”

He blows the smoke out the side of his mouth, eyes not leaving the sky, “The moon. Pretty?”

She smiles to herself, “The Moon was but a Chin of Gold, A Night or two ago, And now she turns Her perfect Face Upon the World below. Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde, Her Cheek, a Beryl hewn, Her Eye unto the Summer Dew, The likest I have known. Her Lips of Amber never part, But what must be the smile, Upon Her Friend she could confer, Were such Her Silver Will, And what a privilege to be But the remotest Star. For Certainty She takes Her Way, Beside Your Palace Door Her Bonnet is the Firmament, The Universe, Her Shoe, The Stars, the Trinkets at Her Belt, Her Dimities of Blue.”

“Who wrote that?”

“Me.”

He leans back to look at her better but she smirks to herself and his adoring gaze drops as he shoves her, “Nah, Emily Dickinson.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

November 17th 2011

“Hey.”

Matty holds the phone to his ear by pushing his shoulder up, his hands focused on washing the dishes in the sink left by his bandmates.

“How’s the new place?”

“Uh, it’s new.”

She chuckles, “Ads, said you had something to tell me?”

Matty nods quickly, then realises she can’t see him, “I do, I do, very exciting. We were gonna tell you when you came up for Christmas but Hann said you can’t make it this year.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

He shrugs, and turns off the kitchen tap, wiping his hands on his black skinny jeans as he leans against the kitchen counter.

“What was it?”

She sighs and glances back at her few school friends before stepping outside the study room away from their prying eyes and knowing smirks.

“We got a call last week, from Jamie.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s starting his own company now.”

Her shoulders slump slightly, “Oh, I’m sorry, Matt, I know how much you liked this manager.”

“Yeah.” He says to himself.

“What’s it called?”

“Dirty Hit.”

“Sounds cool.”

He nods, “Is cool, yeah, especially since it’s a record label and he’s signed us on as his first artists.”

“Holy shit!” One of the support teachers passes by her with a kid beside her, sending her a disapproving glance and she turns away, repeating the two words much quieter, “A music-producing company?”

“Yup. We’re gonna do a few EP’S for him, hopefully, get an album out too.”

“Which ones for the E.P?”

“Woman, antichrist, chocolate, and robbers.”

“Good choices.”

He laughs, “You’re only saying that because you helped write most of them.”

She hums, “You have any recording sessions?”

“Two, December and January, were going to try and convince you to stay down for a week longer to help but now you’re not coming at all.”

“I’m a working gal now, Healy. Gotta make a living somehow.”

“You can make a living counting cards.”

“Yeah, cleaning up the tables?” She asks sarcastically, “In Manchester, yeah?”

He laughs, she knows him way too well. He hums, crossing his arms as he tilts his head to the side, “You can come up here, live in the city, leave the country behind.”

“Not sure, Healy,” She says, “Kinda love the country, it’s my home.”

“It’s full of drugs and dead sheep.”

“Wow.” She says mostly to herself, “And what’s in the city? Even more drugs and dead bodies?”

“You could make a nice life for yourself up here. Settle down, find love, join the band-” Before she can cut him off, which he knows she’s going to do he quickly adds, “Or find a stable job you actually like.”

She sighs and fiddles with her school tie, “You know how I feel about change, Matty.”

“That would be the ‘tism in you.”

She rolls her eyes at his comment, “I like it here. I’m comfortable, I’m home.”

“Could make a home up here with us.”

“Can I be honest?”

Her question is met with a very quick reply, “Of course.”

“I’d rather kill myself than ‘make a home for myself’ in England.”

“A betrayal to your people.”

She hums, “To all of Welas.” She says, using the old medieval name of her country knowing he’s had to sit through the painful history lesson much like she had in GCSE.

“But, seriously, Tom,” He says after a few more moments of silence, “If you ever need a home, you can come up here and join ours.”

“I know, Matty,” She says quietly, a smile on her face that he wishes he could see, “Thank you.”

“That’s not just why I called.” He says quietly, he’s silent for a few moments, a few moments too long because Tommie is calling his name softly.

“For the EP, I wanted to take one of your poems, turn it into a song, not just one line, the whole thing, untouched.”

She nods, “Sure, which one?”

“I want you to sing it.”

She pauses, “Me?”

“You have a great voice, Tommie,” He tells her, “When I first heard it, Jesus, it was like hearing this new undiscovered instrument for the first time.”

She blushes, kicking a foot out before her, “Matt…”

“Please?” He asks quietly, “I want everyone to hear you.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

December 29th 2011

“Okay, Tommie, we’re gonna run through Me one more time, you ready?”

She plays with the sleeves of her jacket and looks through the little glass at everyone, she clears her throat and nods.

George is the one who takes note of her fidgeting and glances back at the room full of eagle-eyed producers, “Hey, uh, you guys can head home, we can finish up the rest.”

“No, we’re-”

“Go home.”

Matty raises a brow watching them filter out, Jamie sends Tommie a wave, pressing the button to speak to her, “See you tomorrow, T.”

She smiles waving goodbye then as Matty walks them to the door turns to George mouthing a little ‘thank you’, he nods giving her a smile.

She clears her throat, lifting the headphones up over her ears and turning away. Matty climbs back into the spinning chair with an excited grin as they listen to her singing the song.

He leans forward, head resting on his hand as they watch her read the lyrics she’d quickly written into a notebook of some of the other songs.

“Backing vocals for all of them?” She asks and receives two nods of confirmation, “Even Woman.”

“Especially woman, you’re playing the role of the woman.”

“What’s that song even supposed to be about?”

“Prostitute.”

“Charming.” She mutters.

She wraps the cord of the headphones around her finger and watches them both mutter between each other, “Can you do facedown, last one, we covered the city yesterday.”

She nods and lifts the headphones back over her ears as the first few chords of the song fill her ears.

“She’s good, she coming on tour with us?”

Matty shakes his head, “Why not?” George asks, moving to turn the dial and make her vocals louder. He’s gotten the hang of this producer thing quite quickly, and his favourite thing to do is an experiment.

“I don’t know, Hann said something about her mother, uh- hang on that’s him.”

He stands and answers the phone turning away from George, “Is Tommie there? She’s not answering her phone.”

“Yeah, she’s in the booth, almost finished.”

“Get her, please.”

“She’s almost done, we’re on the last one.”

“Matty, now.”

“Hann, we’re almost done, what could be more important-”

“Matty, I’m not messing around right now.”

He sighs and walks over to George nudging him, “Get her out.”

“She’s only got a few lines left.”

Matty shrugs and leans over, flicking the music off and holding down the button to speak to her, “Um, Hann’s on the phone for you.”

She nods, hanging the headphones on the mic and walking over to them, “Hey, Ads.”

“Um, are Matty and George still there?”

“Yeah, shall I put you on speak-”

“No, you might want to go outside.”

She looks away from them slowly, moving to the other side of the room, “Ads, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I- uh, don’t know how to say this, you need to come home.”

“Okay, okay, what’s happening?”

“It’s your mum.”

#matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy imagine #show me yours matty healy #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 x oc

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