#this is based on a small thing I wrote the other day

[adragonprinceswhore]

You’re Perfect

Billy Washington x Girlfriend

Summary: You ask Billy to fulfill one of your fantasies.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, deepthroat, throat fucking, breath play, fingering, cum eating

A/N: Here you go, anon! Made a header ‘cause I was bored 🤓 Also, I can’t believe I wrote this? Please forgive me for the crimes of my ovulation 🙏

Word count: 1700

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The days between Christmas and New Years always feel like being in limbo; stuck in time between the cosy familiarity of Christmas, and the rejuvenating passing of New Years. Never feeling quite like yourself; sometimes unburdened by the stressors of everyday life, sometimes fretting over the return of normalcy as a new year embarks.

When your head is swirling with endless questions, sometimes something as simple as a shower makes you feel human again.

You step out of the bathroom, steam accompanying your dampened silhouette as you enter the living room of Billy's small flat. He’s lounging on the small sofa in the corner, feet propped up on the low ikea coffee table, eyes flickering from the TV screen to you, taking in the way your dressing gown clings to your dewy skin.

Eyes still on you, he sits up a bit straighter, spreading his legs out while stretching out a needy hand, the other one fidgeting with the remote to mute the TV, “Come here”.

As you got more comfortable with each other as a couple, you learned a few things about Billy; he’s giving and he’s needy.

He wants you to know how much he appreciates you. He shows his love by making you tea each morning. By complimenting your cooking, even when it tastes horrid. By touching you, every chance he gets.

You take his hand and sit down on his lap. Billy’s face instantly nuzzles into the softness of your chest, nose trailing across your smooth skin as he inhales, “Did you use that shower oil I got you for Christmas?”

“The one I told you to buy for me?”, you giggle, remembering how panicked his blue eyes had looked in the over-crowded shopping centre before you slipped your gift into his hand and told him you’d go out while he finished up there, “-yes”

Billy hums, the stubble on his chin scratching your skin, “Great choice. Do you feel better after your shower?”

When your head is swirling with endless questions, sometimes something as simple as Billy's touch makes you feel human again.

He’s always so gentle with you, a stark contrast to the natural clumsiness he seems to possess. With you, he’s always careful, fingertips grazing delicately over your skin.

“Yes”, you answer honestly, grabbing his face to angle it towards your lips.

The kiss starts soft, plush lips moving against each other slowly. But once Billy finds your ass, squeezing it over your dressing gown, his mouth matches the neediness of his hand.

When you push on his shoulder to allow yourself a moment to come up for air, his lips chase your mouth, reluctant to allow separation between the two of you.

You dodge him, place a quick peck on his lips and stroke the smooth skin on his cheekbones, “There’s this thing I’d like to try..”

Unable to keep from adoring you, Billy peppers your neck with soft kisses, mumbling “Tell me” into your skin.

“It’s this fantasy I’ve had for a while”, you start, feeling Billy straighten up slightly as he lifts his gaze to meet yours, intrigued.

“Anything”, he says, grasp on your ass moving your body slightly so your leg makes contact with his crotch, feeling the hardness already there.

“Before we met, I’d… get off to this thought…”, you explain, hand moving to play with the sandy hairs at the base of his neck, “it’s something I’ve always wanted to try”.

“If you’re about to suggest a threesome with one of my mates, I’m throwing you out the window”, Billy jokes, still busy lathering you in featherlight kisses.

You chuckle, leaning in closer, mouth right by his ear as you purr, “I want you to fuck my throat”

Billy’s body goes stiff beneath you, but you can swear that you feel his cock twitch against your leg.

“Um-, y-, yeah. Yeah, guess we could try that”, he stammers, caught off guard by your brazen request.

You swing one leg over his lap so that you're straddling him, a playful smile turning the corners of your lips up.

“Yeah?”, you excitedly confirm, stifling a giggle at how rapidly your partner's cheeks have turned pink, “would you like to try right now?”

Tongue darting out to lick his lips, Billy looks at you in amazement, nodding a silent yes.

You’d already gotten a bit worked up from just mentioning the subject, and now the realisation that it’ll happen has your core aching; arousal overtaking you rapidly.

You leave one last peck on Billy’s rosy lips before standing, pulling him up from the sofa and laying down with your head hanging over the armrest.

He observes you, mouth hanging open in astonishment, shoulders slumped and tent in his adidas bottoms evident. You almost let out another giggle at his baffled state.

“I want you to use me, Billy”, you urge, hand closest to him grabbing a fistful of the soft joggers material to pull him closer, “please”

He exhales shakily, hand moving down to palm over his aching cock. If this is what you want, who is he to deny you?

His eyes flicker from your face, eyes expectant and half-lidded with want, to your scarcely covered body, peeks of your soft skin peeping through the middle slit of your dressing gown.

God, you’re perfect.

“Tap my leg if it’s too much, yeah?”, he says, hesitation still evident in his tone, and you smile in reply, nodding.

He grabs his cock in one hand, the other moving to your face, fingertips gently tracing your cheeks as his eyes softly regard you with utter adoration.

Sliding in slowly, he inhales sharply at the feeling of your hot mouth welcoming him. He takes the lead, setting a shallow, easy pace, allowing you to get used to the sensation.

After a few thrusts he pulls out, cock twitching at the sight of a trail of your spit connecting the two of you, “You okay?”

His consideration is sweet, but the feeling of his heavy length in your mouth and the taste of his salty skin leaves you craving more, “Yes Billy, try going deeper”

He inhales shakily again, face evidently hot; cheeks shifting from pink to red and skin glistening.

He slides in deeper, holding the side of your face carefully in his palm, fingers gently feeling the outline of his cock through the delicate skin of your throat, and moans.

“Fuck”

He lets his inhibitions go a little more, focusing on how good it feels; how his eyes are able to appreciate every inch of you as you offer yourself to him on the worn-out sofa in his crummy flat.

Feeling your throat close in a useless attempt to swallow whatever’s blocking your airway, Billy whimpers at the pleasurable squeeze before pulling out, eyes looking down at you in horror, “Shit, sorry!”

You cough slightly, inhaling deeply to fill your lungs again. He’s so cute when he’s like this; worried puppy-eyes contrasting his out-blown pupils.

Locking eyes with him, you smile as one of your hands slides down to slip inside the opening of your dressing gown, fingers diving between your folds, urgently seeking your entrance.

Without needing further preparation, you work two fingers inside your tightness, delighted that the wet sounds of your arousal echo across the room.

“I like it”, you reassure him, “Use me, Billy”

Instantly complying, he moans loudly at how good it feels as your mouth welcomes him again, wet squelching around his length matching the fingers still buried between your legs.

You continue like that, Billy still careful to let you breathe as he fucks your throat with more and more vigour.

Each time he pulls out, there’s more spit adorning his cock. That sight alone has his balls tighten almost painfully in arousal, ready to release at any moment.

You take in a few deep breaths before opening your mouth again, glistening lips and teary, half-lidded eyes illuminated by the harsh, bright light coming from the TV.

Billy leans forward slightly, slowly easing his length back into your hot, wet mouth, unrestrained moans falling from his lips at the maddening sensation. His large hands tug at the cotton belt holding your dressing gown loosely together, revealing your naked form to his hungry gaze.

His palms brace themselves on each side of your waist, fingers squeezing your soft flesh tightly as he begins to thrust his hips again, fucking your throat in slow and precise movements.

The sound of your fingers working your dripping centre, mixed with the moans contained in your throat vibrating around him forces him towards an unabated release.

“‘M gonna cum”, he whimpers, pulling out of your mouth, once again mesmerised by the glistening wetness connecting his cock to your lips as you cough, lungs eager to receive oxygen as you breathe heavily beneath him.

His hand moves furiously over his slick length, pearly spurts landing on your hot skin as he paints your exposed tits in his cum.

Still breathing heavily, Billy drops to his knees beside the sofa to kiss you passionately, warm hand lovingly cupping your cheek.

“I love you”, he whispers, kissing your jaw.

You giggle, still a bit dazed.

“I love you”, he repeats, lips moving down to brush against your sore throat, your collarbones. He crawls on the floor next to you, kissing his cum on your breasts, smearing it over your skin with his tongue.

His lips find your nipple, biting at the nerve-filled flesh before soothingly sucking at it. Meanwhile, his fingers push the limp hand between your thighs away, plunging inside your dripping centre fervently, causing your back to arch off the sofa.

“Does it feel this good when you touch yourself?”, he asks, voice muffled by the skin of your breast, “Can your fingers reach this deep?”

“No”, you moan.

Your Billy, who often looks so afraid and unsure, lights up with confidence as his blue gaze mets yours,

“Didn’t think so”

[rookiesbookies]

Sorry yall! I havent written DC in a long time and I only recently fell back in love with it. I wrote this based on this tiktok

This is really just me breaking down Jason’s death, what surrounds it, the effects, what happened after, and his relationships before and after. Its kinda angsty but like it hurts you and comforts you at the same time, let me know how I did!

When Jason died, Bruce had imagined the after math before. He knew the toll it would take on him even before it happened.

It was like pushing through the swirling winds of a sand storm. The air was dangerous to breathe and cutting his skin. He was suffocating in quick sand, the weight of it all too heavy. The world became bleak and dry of emotions, not a mirage in sight even to trick him.

Bruce had used the thought of his death to bring him to sanity when experiencing fear toxin. By pushing the worst thought possible, the thing that scared him the most instead of his easiest fear to trigger, he could trick his mind into taking back control.

It was a scare tactic he used on himself in the field as well, making sure the scope the place out before even thinking of taking Jason in.

Dick was acrobatic, he was fluid like cats and water. He had incredible luck, skill, and experience before he came into Bruce’s life.

Jason didn’t.

Bruce wholeheartedly believed Jason’s luck was solely spent up when Jason fell into Bruce’s life. Like a stray cat that you take in because you find it eating the plants you keep in the balcony.

Bruce was the luckiest thing to happen to Jason. And that scared him.

When Jason’s actual death came. Bruce was blindsided. He was torn up.

The last conversation he had with his son was a fight, an argument. Something that he could have avoided if he had just held his son and been an adult. But he didn’t.

For the first time in a long time, Bruce was back in a church. Dick, a raging fire of anger, stood next to him- Alfred on his other side.

The funeral was relatively small. Bruce didn’t want to invite a bunch of elites to this. It was only the three, a few of Jason’s friends from school or the alley, and a few heroes and side kicks that knew him.

Bruce, Batman, the human gargoyle, did everything the keep himself together. Clark offered to help him slip out.

Bruce kept it a closed casket funeral for his own sake.

When everyone had left, Alfred ushered Dick, now a young man, away.

Bruce knelt by the casket and just put his hand on it. Tears silently flowing from his eyes as his fist balled up. He sat like that for hours.

Even before that, it took Alfred hours to pry Jason’s body from Bruce’s arms when he first found him and brought him back. It took days for Alfred to convince Bruce to sent the body off so they could get closure and cause of death.

Jason wasn’t Bruce’s greatest failure, his death was.

Bruce’s greatest fear came true.

It all got so much worse after Jason came back.

Bruce’s guilt was over flowing, like a small child walking with a cup too full in shaking hands.

When Jason came back to the mansion, Bruce felt like he was seeing a ghost. The buffer, angrier ghost of his sweet son.

Dick’s anger only got worse it seemed. Jason’s anger would sit and stew, Dick would snap. Jason’s was slow and calculated, Dick’s was improvised and bash.

Jason wanted revenge, Dick wanted to avenge.

Dick’s anger would come in waves, he was so excited to have his little brother back, until he saw Jason.

The 5’9”, scrawny, 16 year old was now 6’2” and would bench Dick as a warm up. He wasn’t his little brother, the malnourished kid that he taught how to be a kid, this was a totally different animal.

Dick began to tear up, not realizing exactly how much of Jason’s life he had missed at the difference.

Alfred had been crying, but only when he was away from everyone.

He had celebrated each of Jason’s birthdays even when his name was treated like a slur by Bruce, not wanting to hear about the son he fail. Every year he would bake a batch of Jason’s favorite cupcakes, he’d put one by in the kitchen and open the window. He’s serve the rest as that nights dessert, Bruce would be celebrating and not knowing. Or maybe he did and he just didn’t care. By the time Alfred would come back to have his own dinner, Jason’s cupcake’s candle would have been blown out by the wind.

Jason didn’t have the capacity when he came back to the mansion. He had hoped the Robin mantle died with him. He prayed no children would be risked or subjected to that danger again.

But then he saw Tim. Misguided anger on Jason’s part led to an unfortunate relationship for the two of them for the whole time Jason was adjusting to life back.

All in all, no one knew what they were doing and it was incredibly difficult for them all to adjust.

When Damian arrived, they hit it off almost immediately.

Damian had someone who spoke fluent Arabic, Bruce only spoke a broken version and Dick and Tim had no idea. Damian also had someone who trained in the league who wasn’t his father.

Jason and Damian had met a few times while Jason was training but Damian was just too young. He was about 6 years old and Jason was still too crazy so Talia and Ra’s kept them mostly separate.

While Damian always had the stronger bond with Dick, Jason was by far the brother he looked up to the most.

Jason was always in town, unlike Dick, and Jason was so similar to Damian.

Bruce still felt as though he kept failing Jason, but when Damian joined the family, Bruce knew Jason didn’t feel so alone anymore and Damian didn’t feel as alone either.

[my-castles-crumbling]

is it too dangerous that i have my age, country and first name in my tumblr pinned post?

It’s a generic name and just… a country. And i don’t have my bday or anything, just my age so other ppl around my age know i’m their age (i’m a minor)

It never seemed to unsafe but recently i’ve been worried since like, online safety and stuff.

thanks cas :)

Hi hon! Okay, I go back and forth about stuff like this. Do I think you'll somehow get kidnapped based off of just your first name, age, and country? No. However, sometimes predators can use that PLUS other things you post to get more info about you. Is that likely? No, But it is possible. People do tiktoks about it all the time- someone on tiktok is like "bet you can't find me!" and the person finds them in like five seconds.

I don't think listing your country is a big issue.

As far as age, I think there are pros and cons. You say you are a minor: on the one hand, I think it's good to be clear about that online, especially to someone like me (I am an adult) because I make every effort to not allow minors to interact with my more mature content or discuss that content with minors. Adults who want to keep boundaries want to know who is a minor, because they want to respect that. HOWEVER, predators also want to know who is a minor.

But really, I think more than posting or not posting your age, it's important to recognize the signs of a predator. Educate yourself on the questions they might ask (grooming type behavior, specifics on where you live, small suggestive comments, anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. trust your gut.) I think posting your age in general is not bad, but please educate yourself on how predators act, so you are able to protect yourself.

The name is the worst one, in my opinion. It may be because I am a teacher and I am terrified of a digital footprint, but I always use a fake name online. when I just started college, I wrote some articles for an online platform, including one about being gay, and the odd questions I get. One of the questions I listed was a sexual question. I wrote under my legal name, and on the first day of my first teaching course, my Professor googled all of us one-by-one to prove that everything can be found when you interview for teaching. When the article came up, I instantly regretted writing it under my legal name, because that could have affected me getting jobs. I know it's such an annoying boomer (I promise, I'm not nearly that old, but yeah) thing to say, but the internet can follow you. So if anything, I think you should use a fake name. Especially if you're going to post anything that might be embarrassing to see in a job interview in ten years, lol.

This is just my opinion, though, and there are pros and cons to all of these. Like I said, I think more than deciding whether or not to list anything is educating yourself on signs of someone being unsafe. That's the priority.

I hope this helps!

[mangywayway]

I only have one thought rotting in my little brain and I'm not sorry (also more gouache because I need to practice lol)

[mysicklove]

CW: reader sucking nanamis dick lol, me playing up nanamis old manness bc i am picturing him as a middle aged man, no power dynamics, nanami cums on your face n realizes he may have a kink, reader is ":3" coded, unedited for now bc i need sleep

a/n: wrote this cause im down bad. not written well tho LOL

"Are you sure you like this? I dont want your jaw to hurt..." Nanami questions, furrowed browed as he gently traces the skin near your temple.

You were kneeling in front of him, hands placed on his thighs and grinning at him. "I want to. I really, really want to. Been thinking about it all day."

"You are quite eager."

"Arent you?" Your eyes trail to cock in your hand, completely hard and flushing a shade of red. His work attire was still on, and you just unbuttoned his pants enough so that only his dick was free. You had a thing for the work attire - you couldnt help it, he looked incredibly good in a suit.

In return, Nanami just rubs at his mouth, not denying it. Then he pets your hair, settling in his chair. "Okay, but I wont be mad if you grow uncomfortable."

You rolls your eyes at him, pressing your cheek against his cock. "You coddle me too much. I will not die from sucking dick, Kento."

He stays quiet at this, just silently brushing your hair back into his palms, holding it away from your face. It was polite, all things considering. You smile at him, while your tongue drags from the base of his cock to the tip.

You continue to prep yourself, licking and gently kissing the shaft, while Nanami watches in silence. Then, you put your mouth over him and begin to suckle the tip. A sigh is let out from the man, and he resists the urge to shut his eyes, wanting to watch the lewd sight.

Your head find a steady motion - bobbing up and down until you gag and pull off. He pretends that the sound doesnt turn him on, feeling bad that something uncomfortable for you sends blood rushing to his groin.

When you pull away, slightly panting, he rubs at your lips, now coated in saliva. "Are you okay?"

"You're doing it again, Kento. I am not a child - I've sucked other mens dick before."

He blinks at this, before frowning and forcing you back on his cock by your hair. But, when he heard your giggles from below, he realized quickly that you only said that to tease him. He sighs at that, shaking his head. "Do you like making me upset?"

You hum around his cock, letting drool purposefully fall from your mouth and down till it reached his balls - it was always bettter when it was sloppier, or so you have heard. But, you pull away quickly to answer him, tilting your head to the side so that you can continue to lick his shaft.

"Kinda fun to - you get this look in your eyes. Its weirdly sexy seeing you mad."

His non dominant hand goes back to caressing the skin on your face and his eyes soften. "I would never actually be mad at you."

You make eyecontact with him as you stick your tongue out and swirl it around the redden tip, ignoring the salty taste of pre. Then you give the head another kiss, pressing your nose against it. "I know. You're too soft around me. Its cute, I dont mind it."

"I'm glad," he breathes, and then he pauses, gulping, and looking away, "Then if you dont mind, can you go a little farther down? If its not too uncomfortable, of course."

You obey with little hesistation, mouth coming closer to the dark patch of hair on his lower abdomen. This time he groans out, and cant help but shut his eyes at the warm feeling of your throat. You try your best to focus, but seeing your lovers face contort with pleasure was too pretty to not watch.

His hips move from his chair, slightly bucking into your mouth like he couldnt control them. It makes a lewd noise in the back of your throat, and he groans hearing it. You continue your movements, and with each moment, his cock gets wetter from the amount of saliva coated on it.

Large, callused finger tips run over your neck, feeling the way his dick creates a small bulge, and he lets out a shaky breathe. "Fuck. Wow, you are something. Doing so well, thank you, thank you, fuck."

Tears are beggining to prick at your eyes from the lack of air, but still you try your best to nod at him, even if the action sends him groaning out again.

He was growing overheated from the whole thing, and you watch as he removes his tie and unbuttons the top part of his shirt. The sight makes you slightly moan, and it sends a vibration up Nanami's spine.

When you pull away for another breathe, he lets out a noise close to a whine, and you hold back a chuckle. "Looks whose the one eager now." You tease, and his cheeks pinken slightly as he looks away.

"You really treat me so well."

"You think I am good at sucking dick?"

A lewd way to put it, and Nanami wouldnt phrase it like that, but alas, he nods his head, before guiding you back onto his cock. You in return laugh, and immediately go back to work.

With each bob of your head, he gets more into it, now slightly pushing you down farther by your hair. You don't mind it, and Nanami begins to pant from the pleasure, deep and breathlessly. The sound only spurs you on.

It doesnt take much longer for his abdomen to tighten up, and the feeling of his orgasm to approach. You could tell he was close to coming, even without a warning from the way his grunts seem to grow louder. So you continue your pace, trying your best to hold out without a breathe until he cums down your throat.

But, to much of your suprise, he pulls you off from him by your hair. You try to protest, wanting him to cum in your mouth, but he simply grabs at his cock with his other hand and pumps it a couple of times before aiming it at your face.

Cum shoots out of the wet head, and you are forced to shut one of your eyes as the white liquid lands on your upper cheek and eyelid. The rest lands on a multitude of places on your face, causing you to squint your one opened eye. He groans the entirity of it, and so you let him cum all over your face, finding the noise cute.

But when he is done, you simply wipe off your eyes, leaving the rest for now, and blink up at him with a small frown. "You know it would be alot cleaner if you would have came down my throat."

Nanami just stares at you, eyes scanning your face. Then, you notice the tint of red that danced on his cheeks and ears. Your face lights up at the realization. "I knew you had some sort of kink. You're not as vanilla as I thought, Kento! Who would have thought cumming on my face would do it for you."

"You just look...so pretty like this." A laugh falls from your lips, as your eyes travel back to his cock that was beginning to harden again. Now, it was time for the real deal - you almost squeal in excitement as you drag him to the bedroom.

[januaryembrs]

I CAN SEE YOU | Spencer Reid x FBI!Reader

Request: Congrats on 2k!!! Could you write something based off of ‘I can see you’ by Taylor Swift with Spencer please?

Description: Spencer may or may not have a little thing for the desk jockey on the floor below, and she may or may not have a thing for their silent elevator rides together.

Length: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff?? Season one Spencer in mind when I wrote this (my sweetest boy)

He passed through the lobby at the exact same time every day. Usually with his head dug in an obnoxiously thick book, or fiddling with the strap on his satchel bag, or flicking his long curls out of his sweet, hazelnut eyes. Sometimes with thick round glasses perched on his slender nose, sometimes nothing but a thoughtful, musing frown. 

Not that she was obsessed with him. 

But it wasn’t hard to acknowledge that whoever the guy on the sixth floor was that seemed to stick to an incredibly tight schedule had the face of a god. 

Though she supposed he could say the same about her schedule seeing as they seemed to enter the elevator at nearly the exact same time every single day, never saying a word, a brief nod of hello was about the extent of their interaction. One time he had pressed the button for her floor, number five, for her, and she hadn’t stopped smiling the rest of the day. 

Of course there were times he and his team would be away on a case, in which she wouldn’t see him for days on end, while she went to her lonely desk in forensics no matter what case had come up.

In the grand scheme of things, she was a desk jockey, inputting numbers and data and figures, organising files and sheets and loading ink into the printer. She was a nobody and he was part of the BAU. 

No one would even notice if she didn’t show up for the day. At least that was what she hoped as she sped walked out of the cab, her hair soaking down her back, her lungs puffing in a crackling wheeze, frantically tucking her tight shirt into her dogtooth pants, limping on her ankle that she’d rolled racing out her apartment building into the raging storm that had overcome Virginia in a matter of hours. 

She felt socks wet through as she squelched her way into the elevator, barely noticing the usual passenger that was tracing a bony finger down the page of Pride and Prejudice, quickly flicking over the page in a matter of five seconds. 

He looked up when she hopped in beside him, squeezing in as a handful of other people followed her. Trying desperately to even her hair out in the large mirror behind them, it was only then she realised her mascara had smudged down her cheeks entirely, making her look like she’d slept in a pile of charcoal. 

“Fuck,” She said loudly, her hand slapping over her mouth when she realise the deadly silent elevator full of federal agents turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat as if her makeup condundrum hadn’t been embarrassing enough, “S-sorry,” She muttered, turning her head to the ground as she frantically wiped beneath her lids with her cardigan sleeve. 

Turning to see if he had noticed, she caught him staring right at her, and she could have sworn the heat on her face blazed even harder when she saw he was smiling into his book in amusement. 

Fuck. She repeated in her head this time, taking a small sigh of relief when the doors opened on the first floor and half the passengers trickled out onto the finance floor. 

She was still fixing her hair by the time they got to the second floor, communications, and even more people got out. By the end of the third floor, it was just the two of them left. 

“Bad morning?” He broke the silence, and it was the first time she’d ever actually heard his voice. He was even dreamier than she’d thought, in a boyish kind of way.

“Car battery died, and the bus was full,” She murmured, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves that were entirely sodden, “And then apparently someone up there hates to see pretty girls get to work looking dry and respectable,” 

He chuckled properly, and she swore it soothed the ache of the cold rain just the smallest bit. 

“Don’t we all,” He mused, though his eyes went back to his book, flicking over the words faster than she figured would be possible. 

She figured he didn’t want to be bothered by the drowned rat looking woman that had all but thrown herself into the lift beside him, interrupting his reading with her curses and pitiful glances. 

It was only when they reached the fourth floor that he quickly rooted around his bag for something, likely a bookmark since he didn’t seem the type to dog-ear a perfectly neat page. It wasn’t until a soft, moss green sweater was thrust in her face she snapped out of her self loathing daze.

Looking at him wide eyed, he nudged it towards her hands, and it was like Spencer only just realised that offering a stranger your clothes was perhaps not normal, but he didn’t feel like they were strangers.

She was the first person he’d ever met in the building besides Gideon. He remembered the two of them stepping into the elevator, the bashful woman already flicking through files, her lanyard hanging low over her chest as she chirped good morning to Gideon and he did the same, wishing her a good day when she stepped out onto floor five. 

He couldn’t help if he was so perceptive he’d clocked her name and position written on her ID, couldn’t help it if he was a huge fan of routine and repetition, that he purposely walked into the lobby at the same time every day knowing she was going to be right behind him just for an excuse to see her. 

No, they certainly weren’t strangers, Spencer tried to reason, yet he wasn’t even sure she knew his name.

“T-take it,” He stuttered, watching the doors close and the lift jolt as it ascended to her floor, “You can just bring it back tomorrow,” 

“That’s- I couldn’t,” She reasoned, her eyes fretful, “It’s yours,”

“I’m not using it, you must be freezing,” Spencer reiterated it with another nudge towards her, and he saw the longing glance she gave at the promise of warmth. 

Number five dinged above them, and the doors slid open. 

“Just take it, please,” He said, and it seemed like that was the magic word as she cautiously took it out of his hand, and melted when she realised it was softer than she’d thought, like it was made to feel like a giant hug. 

“Thankyou…” She said, heading for the doors with slow steps; she didn’t want to leave whatever moment he’d caught her in. 

“Spencer,” He replied, smiling at her with a shy cadence. 

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She said, and gave him her own name back. But he already knew it, and he realised he would sound like a complete creepy stalker if he’d said so. So he just nodded, a small wave off as she headed for her office and the doors closed behind her. 

He loved how she said his name, he thought blissfully, but he loved even more showing up to work day after to see her waiting by the elevator, his sweater washed and ironed, pressed neatly in her hands and still warm from where she’d tumble dried it. 

She handed it back to him with a sheepish smile, and he took it gracefully, catching a whiff of her fabric softener and felt fuzzy inside right there and then. 

“Good morning, Spencer,” She said sweetly, and he swore he wanted to kiss her the minute it left her lips, glossed with something rouge and shiny. 

But he didn’t, he just said it back, loving how her name rolled over his tongue. 

[dwaekkicidal]

The Easy Way vs The Hard Way

˚ʚBang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: I was thinking about brat taming the other day and I came to the conclusion that Chris has 2 different ways to tame a brat. So I procrastinated on my fics + assignments and wrote this :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, largely based around Daddy kink, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3), breeding mentions, Chris calls himself Daddy, 'good girl' used #2: kinda hard dom!chris, man handling, spanking

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: sorry not sorry that 'hard' is longer than 'easy' (are u surprised? have you SEEN my content?) and take this off of schedule because I hate letting things sit in my drafts for more than a day 😭 ALSO Sharing is Caring part 2 coming out later this week :3 (along with a Jisung request I got hehe <3)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

I think he has 2 ways of taming brats depending on what his mood is. So here's a little scenario to picture so that I can explain what I mean!

After a long day for the both of you, you guys indulge each other in a nice hour or 2 of foreplay before he finally fucks you. After you both finish, Chris pulls away to watch his cum drip out of you and you wiggle your hips to tease him. He slaps your ass playfully in response and teases you back by saying something along the lines of “Unless you’re trying to get bred tonight, I suggest you stop shaking your ass at me like that baby.” “As if you would complain about that. For somebody who calls himself ‘Daddy’ and says he ‘DoEsN’t MeAn It LiKe ThAt’, you sure as hell are trying to become one.” He originally laughs, but once he processes that you mocked him he rolls his eyes at you, “Just have to be a little brat? Maybe I didn’t fuck you thoroughly enough.” You scoff, crossing your arms and turning to look at him, “You think you do that anyways?”

So. How does theee Bang Christopher Chan deal with this?

‘Easy’ Way; aka “kill them with kindness”

“You think you do that anyways?”

He simply narrows his eyes at you, placing his hands on his hips, “Yeah?”

You proudly respond with an “Mhm." and stick your chin up.

He chuckles, stepping towards you and raising his hand to rest against your cheek, softly caressing the skin there. “But baby, you were just the one begging me to fuck you. Surely if I ‘never’ fucked you thoroughly enough, you wouldn’t be on your knees begging for my dick to be in you?”

You frown and he laughs in response, not giving you a chance to speak up before he continues. His free hand trails down your stomach and stops at your cunt, where he ghosts his fingers along your folds. You whimper and chew on your bottom lip, looking away from him shyly.

"And... Where did my good girl go? Hm? My pretty baby who listens soo well.” His fingers tease your hole before you’re filled with two of them. “My sweet doll who would never let her Daddy down like this.” His fingers double their efforts and the hand on your cheek slides a thumb into your puffy lips. "The good girl who doesn’t disrespect her Daddy like this… Where is she at?” Your breath suddenly becomes hectic and he can tell you’re getting close.

Between the bittersweet words and the eager movements against your pussy, you slip into another mindset all too easily. He smiles when you finally look at him with glossy eyes and respond in a small voice, "'M right here..." He tilts his head at you expectantly and you squirm in his hold before repeating yourself louder. "I'm right here Daddy.."

"Oh, hi baby. Is my good girl back now?" You nod desperately in response, tightening your hands into fists against his chest as you grip around his fingers. "And is she ready to behave?"

"Yes, Daddy. 'M sorry.."

"Shhh, it’s okay baby. Now be good and cum on my fingers, kay?"

Hard’ Way; aka “fuck around and find out”

“You think you do that anyways?”

His eyebrows furrow and his tongue drags against the inside of his cheek. “Yeah? You’re really gonna do this right now? Right after I was nice enough to let you cum?” You gulp but stand your ground, making a scene to roll your eyes and lean back against the headboard.

He sits there silently, trying to give you another chance to come to your senses to realize that you’re butt ass naked in front of him and at his mercy. When you instead cock your head sideways with a bunch of attitude, he sighs loudly. His hands suddenly grips your ankles and drags you towards him. Then you’re flipped into your stomach and he renters you with no warning.

Your jaw drops and you moan loudly in surprise. His hands take turns slamming down against your ass cheeks over and over, seemingly getting harder with each slap. He sighs contently at the way you cling tightly around him with each smack, and he only stops once your cheeks are beet red and you’re trembling below him.

He hums to himself and taps the flesh, making it burn more and watching as you shake. "Such a pretty thing with such pretty reactions.. If only you were a good plaything and shut that pretty mouth for once."

He watches as your head snaps back towards him for a moment, the angry face and tears running down your face only make him smile at you. You feel his hips drag away from you, painfully slowly, until only the first centimeter or two of his tip are in you. You're taking a deep breath trying to regain your composure when a hand grabs a tight grip of your hair and pulls you backwards, his hips slamming forward at the same time.

A choke leaves you at the suddenness but he wastes no time, using the leverage in your hair to hold you in place as he fucks into you roughly. The aftermath of your previous orgasm sneaks up on you and you feel another one building up in no time. You melt into the sheets at the feeling, shaking as you almost tip over from one of the faster orgasms you've experienced, but Chris proves himself to be faster.

In an instant he's pulling out completely and holding you down preemptively for when you start thrash and whine. He waits until you stop kicking your feet at him, a tell tale sign that the tightness in your stomach finally faded, then he all of the sudden plunges back into you. The slide against your walls is rough, but you can’t deny how well it’s breaking down your resolution.

He uses the hand in your hair to tilt your head up at him when he leans forward to tower over you. It's very uncomfortable but it gives him the advantage as his narrowed eyes bore directly into you. He eventually changes positions, not wanting to actually hurt you like that, and he uses the new one to bring you to another orgasm. One that he, of course, ruins immediately with no hesitation.

This happens multiple times across the next 2 hours, to the point where you lost count of how many orgasms slipped away. It's not until you're sobbing beneath him and no longer kicking at him with each ruined orgasm, that he's flipping you onto your back and leaning down to kiss your tears away.

"Are you done now, love? You ready to be my good girl again?"

Your arms wrap around his neck and your lower lip trembles as you nod. He smiles, petting your hair and cooing at you before returning to his previous pace fucking you.

"There we go..."

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[ahqkas]

♯ TOO SWEET ; mattheo riddle

❛ i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you’re too sweet for me ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! in which mattheo recalled the two times you were too sweet for him (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 4.1k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! consummation of alcohol, lovesick mattheo, fluff, angst, a lot of my hcs for mattheo’s past (i wrote him the way i see him), lmk if i missed smth !!

NOTES! this is purely my view on mattheo’s character bc the hc i wrote suit him sm 😿😿 reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

ONCE A MAN FALLS IN LOVE, he finds himself drawn to not just the physical beauty of his muse, but for the essence of who the person truly is - their quirks, intelligence, kindness, and their unique way of seeing the world. Every interaction, every shared experience, every memory he brings, adds another layer to his adoration towards the love of his life.

His love for them is evident in the little things - the way he watches them when they aren't looking, the small gestures of thoughtfulness, the silent support during their dark moments of life. It's in the way he listens, truly listens, to the hopes and dreams, fears and frustrations, always eager to offer his thoughts and ideas. This love manifests in his desire to be their anchor in times of storm, their cheerleader in moments of triumph, and their person in all the in-betweens. It is a love that values their independence and individuality, recognizing that they are their own person with their own journey, and yet, he longs to be a part of that journey, to walk alongside them and share in their joys and sorrows of life.

Mattheo Riddle was no different.

He marvels at your kindness, your sweetness, and the light you bring into his life. You are his muse, his inspiration, a spark of the goodness that stands in stark contrast to his own perceived flaws and insecurities he feels deep inside himself. He sees you as an angel, a pure and radiant being who somehow chose to share your life with him, despite his own imperfections and inner demons.

He sees you as an angel in a human form, who chose to live among the devils, just so he could feel the heavenly touch for the first and last time in all eternity.

He often wonders how he, with all his rough edges, hidden scars, and a past life without a happy memory, could be worthy of your love. He feels like a monster, haunted by past mistakes and burdened by the weight of his own fears and failings. You, on the other hand, are everything he aspires to be - kind, compassionate, and endlessly forgiving. Your presence in his life is a constant reminder of the beauty and grace that he lacks, and yet, your love makes him strive to be better, to rise above his darkness and become someone worthy of your affection.

In his heart, he knows that your love is transforming him, helping him to heal and grow. Your existence is a light that dispels his inner darkness, a reminder for him to cherish that even monsters like him can be loved. He clings to this, that your love is making him a better man, one day at a time.

01. THE PARTY

The Slytherin common room was full of shadows and flickering lights, transformed into a wild moment of freedom for the night. The music, a thundering beat that echoed off the stone walls, could be heard from miles away, yet no professor or ghost visited the common room to cancel the party. It was as if the ancient castle itself had granted this one night of freedom to its most cunning and ambitious students. The rhythmic thrum of bass notes and the infectious melody of the latest wizarding hits filled the air, blending with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.

Bodies moved in a hypnotic dance, swaying in sync with the music. The students had discarded their usual aloof demeanors and uniforms, lost in the euphoria and joy of the moment. Green and silver decorations adorned every surface, shimmering under the enchanted lights that hung from the ceiling like glowing jewels. Laughter rang out, high and clear, mingling with the deep, resonant hum of conversation.

In one corner, a group of seventh years huddled together, their heads bent close in a whisper, before erupting into loud laughter. Nearby, a couple twirled around each other, their bodies intertwining like dark waves, eyes locked in their private world amidst the chaos around them. The fireplace, usually a place of quiet contemplation, was now surrounded by students perched on its stone ledge, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the night and alcohol.

Long tables filled with food and drink stretched along one wall, bearing the weight of a feast other students could be jealous of. Platters of magical meals, charmed to stay warm, smelled of aromas that mingled with the scent of butterbeer and stronger beverages. Bottles of firewhisky and elf-made wine were passed from hand to hand, each sip fueling the atmosphere more and more as drunken the students got. The alcohol flowed freely, loosening tongues, transforming even the shyest students into party animals of the night.

The Slytherin common room had never felt so alive. Tonight, they were not just the students of Hogwarts; they were a family, united by their house and their understanding of what it meant to be a Slytherin.

Mattheo Riddle was one of those students who were enjoying themselves tonight. His breathing features were illuminated by the green lights as he leaned casually against a stone wall, a cup of firewhisky filled to the brim in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed perilously close to the edge with each of his slowed gestures, but Mattheo seemed unconcerned, clearly lost in the haze of alcohol. His dark curls, usually styled in the way that made uncountable amount of girls fall on their knees, now fell loose around his face as you watched from a close distance.

He was engaged in a drunken conversation with Theodore Nott, whose tall, lanky frame was the opposite to Mattheo's more athletic build. Theo's typically serious demeanor had softened, his features relaxed into a rare, genuine smile as he listened to Mattheo's ramblings with a giggle threatening to spill out from his lips. The two of them, often seen together, now looked like true brothers. It was almost scary how much they resembled family when they were drunk.

Mattheo's voice, rich and slightly slurred, carried over the music as he recounted a particularly outrageous story from his recent fight. Theodore threw his head back and laughed. It was clear to anyone how close those two boys were, drunk or sober.

"Can you believe he actually thought I was serious?" Mattheo snickered with a big grin stretching across his face, taking a swig from his cup, the whiskey burning a warm path down his throat. "I mean, I barely managed to keep a straight face!"

Theodore laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a menace, Riddle. One of these days, you're going to get expelled."

"Ah, but tonight isn't that night, mate," Mattheo replied with a slow wink, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To living dangerously and laughing in the face of consequences!"

They clinked their cups together, the sound barely audible over the throbbing beat of the music and you thought now was the best time to approach your boyfriend. 

Mattheo's brown irises scanned the crowd, catching a look of you as you pushed your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The sight of you instantly brightened his expression and a genuine smile spread across his face. He felt a rush of emotions that the whiskey in his hand only intensified, each beat of his heart echoing with the certainty that what he held for you was pure love. The Slytherin straightened up, his posture shifting from the casual slouch of a carefree boy to the attentive stance of a man. Theodore noticed the change and a knowing smirk made its appearance on his lips as he stepped aside, giving the two of you a moment of privacy. 

"[Name]," your boyfriend called out, his voice full of warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you came closer. "There you are, love."

You beamed up at him, your eyes reflecting the party's enchanted lights, making them look like twin stars. "Having fun, are we?" you teased and the tone of your voice carried a playful match that always managed to make his heart skip a beat. 

"Only now that you're here," he replied. The world around you seemed to blur as he gazed down at you, all the noise and chaos fading into the background. "You make everything better."

Drunk on both the whiskey and his overwhelming affection, the boy's usual reservations melted away. He held you close, his hands resting on your waist as if anchoring himself to your presence. When he was sober or feeling down at heart, his love for you was often hidden beneath layers of stoicism and insecurity, but now, in this moment of happy drunkenness, it shone through. 

He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, enjoying the sweetness of the contact. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of your love."

 “You have no idea what you mean to me. I look at you and . . . it’s like you’re the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around you, soaking up your light,” he continued without a break. The boy wanted to get every one of his words out as fast as humanly possible. To show you his hidden feelings he wasn't able to tell you before. “You’re my everything, [Name]. I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re so kind, so . . . good. And me? I’m just . . . I’m a mess, you know? A monster sometimes.” 

You shook your head lightly and took his hands into your own, enveloping him with your warmth. He was starting to get emotional, and you didn't need to have your boyfriend drunkenly mopping around. His mood changed like weather when alcohol got involved. “You’re not a monster, Mattheo. You’re human. We all have our demons.”

“But you,” he didn't allow you to finish your sentence before he spoke up again, his voice raw with sincerity, “you make me want to be better. For you. I see you, and I just want to be the man you deserve. I’m not always good at it, but I try. I try because you’re worth it.” 

You could see the glazed look in his eyes as he swayed slightly on the spot. He was rough around the edges, you couldn't deny the truth, but he was the sweetest boy when he managed to fall in love. Which wasn't exactly difficult, Mattheo fell in love easily. But when he did, it was worth everything. Mattheo was your sweet boy. “Love,” you said softly to him, your voice filled with gentle concern to the brim, “you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it’s time to slow down a little, okay?”

Mattheo blinked, giving you a lopsided grin, his expression a mix of boyish charm and pure happiness. “But I’m fine, [nickname]. I feel great. Better than great, actually. With you here, everything’s perfect.”

“I know you’re having a good time, but I don’t want you to feel terrible tomorrow. Let’s take a break from the firewhisky for now, alright?”

He pouted slightly, his shoulders slumping as he realized you were actually serious. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “But only because you’re asking me.” You chuckled softly at his behavior, threading your fingers through his and gently leading him away from the dancing crowd. You navigated through the common room, moving towards a quieter corner of the space where a plush couch sat, inviting you both in with open arms. The room’s enchantments cast soft shadows on the walls, the flickering lights creating a soothing atmosphere.

“Here, sit down,” you instructed as you guided him to sit on the couch. Mattheo obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sat beside him, your hand never leaving his. You took the half-empty cup of whiskey from his hold, reaching for a glass of water on the table nearby instead and handing it to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Mattheo took the glass, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He took a long sip, the cool water a welcome relief from the heat of the alcohol he consumed. “You really do take good care of me, don’t you?” he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and exhaustion.

“Someone has to,” you replied playfully, brushing a stray curl of hair from his forehead. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

As the night wore on, Mattheo felt a warmth spreading through him that was only partly due to the whiskey. It was the warmth of belonging, of being surrounded by friends who understood and accepted him, flaws and all. Despite his often rough exterior, he was deeply grateful for these moments, these stolen hours of joy in the corners of the Slytherin common room.

02 - THE MARK

The past has a profound power to shape a man, especially when that past is influenced by suffering at the hands of a father. 

For Mattheo Riddle, his family history was the darkest shadow of all the shadows that clung to him, a reminder of the pain and fear that had molded his entire life. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, where love was a foreign concept and cruelty was a daily reality, Mattheo had learned to build tall and thick walls around his heart. A shield to protect him from more hurt that would come his way. 

The orphanage was a harsh place, stripped of the luxuries the boy had unknowingly been born into. It was a world of strict discipline and a poor form of affection. The caretakers, overwhelmed and underfunded, had little patience for a child with such a notorious legacy. Mattheo grew up under the weight of whispers and sideways glances, the infamous name "Riddle" ensuring he was never just another child. The women of the orphanage knew his father, having taken care of him when he was around the same age as his son. What a wicked child Tom was. Mattheo was different because of that, marked, and this awareness shaped his formative years in ways he could barely comprehend.

As he grew older, the whispers about his family name became more pronounced. The children at the orphanage were cruel. “Monster,” they called him, creating the very fears that nested within his own heart. He began to internalize these taunts, seeing himself through the lens of his father's sins. The idea that he could be worthy of love seemed more and more distant, more of a fantasy that had no place in his reality. But the same idea of letting someone see past his defenses, of allowing someone to love him despite his flaws, seemed not only impossible but dangerous. For how could anyone love a monster, especially one crafted by his own father?

Despite this, Mattheo yearned for something more. He longed for the kind of love he had never known, a love that was gentle and kind, that saw past his scars and accepted him for who he was. But every time he felt himself getting close to someone, the fear surged up, a wave of doubt and self-loathing washed over him and forced him to retreat behind his walls again. It was a never-ending cycle.

Hogwarts had saved him. 

Mattheo Riddle’s first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were met with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and apprehension. For the other students, he was a figure of whispered rumors, his infamous last name carrying with it a weight of fear and fascination. They had heard the stories of his father’s dark acts, of the legacy that haunted the halls of the castle like a ghost. But for Mattheo himself, Hogwarts represented a new beginning, a chance to escape the personal hell he called the orphanage and create his own path. The boy was no longer just another orphan. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be.

He wasn't deaf. The young boy could feel the weight of his father’s name bearing down on him like an invisible burden. And he wasn't blind either. He saw the way the other students looked at him, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and suspicion. They didn’t openly taunt him as the children in the orphanage had done, but he could sense the whispers and the wary glances that followed him wherever he went. For Mattheo, however, their fear was a source of power. He reveled in the attention, in the way his presence commanded respect, even if it was tinged with fear. He was finally someone. 

He excelled in his classes, his natural talent and restless ambition setting him apart from his peers. But it was on the Quidditch pitch that Mattheo truly came into his own. Flying high above the castle grounds, he felt a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. With every twist and turn of his broomstick, he left behind the weight of his past and embraced the thrill of the present, making him feel like a bird. 

Six years had passed since Mattheo Riddle first walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts, a hopeful and determined young wizard with dreams of greatness he was so sure he'd achieve. But now, as he entered his sixth year at the renowned school of magic, the world around him had shifted irrevocably. The return of Lord Voldemort two years prior had plunged the wizarding world into chaos, and with it, Mattheo’s life had been destroyed once again.

Even among his fellow Slytherins, Mattheo felt like an outsider, a traitor to his own house and everything it stood for. He had once prided himself on his ambition and cunning, on his unwavering determination to succeed at any cost. But it didn't matter anymore. 

Mattheo sat alone in the quiet atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze fixed on the night sky that sparkled with millions of stars. Each twinkling light seemed to mock him, making fun of the darkness that now stained his soul even more than before. His fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket tightly, as if seeking some comfort in the fabric, but finding none.  

 On his left forearm, the Dark Mark burned like a brand upon his skin. It was a mark of shame, of betrayal, and every time he looked upon it, he felt a sickening sense of disgust and self-loathing. He had thought that by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, his father, he would finally be able to escape the shadows of his past, to prove himself worthy of the name Riddle and his father's presence. But now, he realized that he had only succeeded in plunging himself deeper into the deep hole. Even the orphanage was better than this. 

The footsteps behind him shattered the sweet silence, echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Mattheo tensed, his heart racing as he turned to face the intruder, steeling himself for whatever judgment or punishment awaited him. But as he turned, he was met not with the accusing glare of Filch or the triumphant sneer of a rival, but with the concerned gaze of a familiar face. It was you, with your eyes filled with worry as you approached him slowly, as if he'd disappear if you were a bit louder. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?”

No, he wasn't alright. But he would be caught dead sooner than having you worry about him like that and more. 

He forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the emotions raging within him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the facade. “Just . . . thinking.”

You stepped closer, taking a seat on the ground beside him. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mattheo. I know something’s been troubling you lately. You can talk to me.”

You were his angel, full of that purity and light he adored about you in a world darkened by his own sins. He longed to confide in you, to unburden himself of the guilt and shame that had consumed him since he had received the Dark Mark. But the fear of your rejection, of you seeing him for the monster he believed himself to be, held him back. It would shatter his heart, to see the pained expression on your face. 

“I . . .” he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words, "there's something I need to show you." With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mattheo finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth to you. For months, he had carried the burden of the dark secret alone, pushing you out and shutting you down in an attempt to shield and protect you from the darkness that was his father. But now, as he sat before you, his heart and his soul laid bare, he knew that he could no longer hide from the truth. The boy reached for the sleeve of his jacket, his fingers fumbling as he pushed the fabric up to reveal the twisted lines of the Dark Mark etched upon his skin. The sight of it made him recoil, a wave of shame washing over him as he exposed his deepest, darkest secret to the one person he had sworn to protect.

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the mark, your palm flying to your mouth in disbelief. For a long moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing and the distant hum of the night owls. 

“I received this a few weeks ago," Mattheo confessed, his eyes avoiding yours. "When he decided I was good enough for him."

He felt your gaze on him, eyes searching his face for answers. He could see the confusion and concern written in your expression, but beneath it all, he saw something else - a flicker of understanding and acceptance that filled him with both hope and fear. How can someone be so good to someone like him? "I've been living with the Malfoys ever since," he continued, the words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to explain himself. "But it's not what you think, [Name]. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a part of his plans, to be branded as one of his followers. But I had no choice. He made me do it."   

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, and he felt a desperate plea for forgiveness in his chest. He needed you to understand, to see past the mistakes that consumed him and into the depths of his soul where his love for you burned bright and true. The thought of losing you hurt him more than the Cruciatus curse ever could. 

“Forgive me. For shutting you out, for pushing you away. I was scared, I was ashamed . . . but I can't bear to keep this secret from you any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if it means losing you forever." 

Your heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow as you gazed upon Mattheo, your sweet boy, sitting there before you with tears in his eyes and the weight of the world upon his shoulders. In that moment, all you wanted was to wrap him in your arms and shield him from the pain and darkness that threatened to consume him. With shaky hands, you reached out to him, fingers brushing against the mark of his father's followers etched upon his skin. The sight of it filled you with a fit of fierce anger, but beneath it all, you saw the boy you so dearly loved - a boy who had been shaped by his past but who was so much more than the picture of his scars. 

"Love," you whispered into the dark, taking his face into your hands and wiping away those tears that managed to escape his control, "there's nothing to forgive. Nothing in this world could ever tear us apart, not even your father or that mark."

In that moment, Mattheo knew that he would do anything for you, that he would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness and safety. You were his light in the darkness, his angel in a world filled with demons, and he would cherish that for the time being his heart swelled at the thought of you. You were simply too sweet for him and you knew that Mattheo’s struggles were far from over, but for tonight, that was enough.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

[cr4yolaas]

the weight of words — alhaitham x mute! reader

notes: based off of this tiktok i found a long while ago featuring a poem that serves as the base for this fic <3 i feel like this is very poorly written / rushed and it lacks a good flow but i wanted to get it out asap bc i didn’t have any more energy to write it LOL

tags: italics represent handwritten notes, reader is implied to be rlly smart / top of the class, implied depressive episode (reader), self deprecation (reader), fluff → angst → fluff, may or may not be an inaccurate rep. of mute individuals, ooc alhaitham, not proofread

this was a little more irksome than he wanted to admit.

at the very top of the akademiya, far away from prying eyes, sat a student bathed in sunlight. from a distance, he observed. you held a book in one hand and an apple in the other, while your legs dangled off of the ledge. he couldn’t discern much from your backside.

but what bothered him the most was that you were seated in “his” spot. the spot he always crept away to during lunch, mainly for its isolation and breathtaking view.

without hesitation, alhaitham approached you. he tapped on your shoulder and stared with an intensity akin to the blazing sun in june. “excuse me,” he began. “i normally sit here. i would greatly appreciate it if you moved to another place, as i’m most accustomed to this spot.”

a silence washed over as you stared up at him. your lack of response left him annoyed — did you find this funny?

however, as you set down your book and snack gently, alhaitham found himself surprised for the first time in a while.

a notebook sat on your lap as you wrote rapidly. the man watched quietly.

i’m afraid not. there are countless other spots up here, and i just happened to get to this one first.

a sigh slipped from his lips. while he wasn’t unfamiliar with stubborn personalities around campus, this particular interaction seemed to interest him more than it irritated him. alhaitham nodded and sat beside you, much to your surprise.

he listened as you flipped your page and began writing again, this time taking up less space on the paper.

why do you like sitting here? you passed the notebook to him.

he wrote much slower in comparison to you, however, his handwriting bore an elegance you had not seen before, as if each letter carried a song in the ink. you found it beautiful.

the lack of noise.

his short response made you smile — simple and straight to the point. another thing you deemed wonderful.

he did not hand the notebook back to you, but instead, continued to write. i dislike unnecessary sounds. they serve as useless interruptions. up here, i find that in comparison to the chatter of students, the ambience is soothing. alhaitham placed the notebook in your lap gingerly and looked into the distance, his gaze absent yet his thoughts reverberating.

you continued this back and forth with him for the entirety of the lunch break. the lines engraved on your palms spilled over with ink smears, and you found your dominant arm growing weary. you did not write your goodbyes on the paper, therefore leaving your conversation unfinished. you left with a smidge of warmth in your heart and a smile on your face in hopes of meeting him again the next day.

from afar, you could see the way he sat leaning slightly more towards one side, and the occasional tapping of his fingers against the table as he wrote. he drank from a small mug of what you presumed to be coffee, but rather than holding the handle, he gripped the cup from its mouth. another intricacy that piqued your interest.

he noticed your stare after a few seconds, eyes of jade and clementine meeting yours. without a word, he relocated to your table, sitting directly across from you. “hello,” he greeted softly. “i didn’t know you frequented this place either.” his gaze flickered over to your notebook peeking out of your schoolbag, and when you pulled it out to respond to him, he found himself getting uncharacteristically excited.

i don’t, actually. i wanted a change of pace, but i’m not sure how much i’m enjoying it. you pushed the book across the table to him.

is it too loud to study? that’s surprising.

you looked up at him questioningly for a moment before jotting down your reply. i’m not studying. i’m just here to read. his lips upturned noticeably at your words, an expression you wished to carve into the crevices of your memory for eternity. he was painstakingly beautiful.

alhaitham didn’t respond for a handful of seconds, instead opting to look outside the window to his left. strands of sunlight draped themselves onto his perfectly crafted face and fell between each strand of hair. a view that compared to the one at the top of the akademiya.

a conversation of short responses — ranging from questions about your darshan, to your favorite season, to the books you enjoyed reading — ensued, the evidence splayed onto the paper. you appreciated his company, for it was rare that anyone sought to talk with you.

he asked another question, his curiosity seeping out endlessly. why do you communicate like this?

a thin-lipped smile etched itself onto your lips. the ink of your pen ghosted atop the paper, your hesitation evident. i was born mute. i have no voice, therefore i cannot communicate in a normal manner.

you grew increasingly anxious as he looked at you with an expression that was terrifyingly unreadable. your hands rested atop the notebook, keeping it away from him for reasons you didn’t understand quite yet.

“that’s okay,” he spoke, the baritone of his voice cutting through your shared silence. “i don’t mind it. actually, i think i prefer it. over the grating voices of the other scholars i know, at least.” he went on about his senior, a friend in kshahrewar who apparently could never keep his mouth shut in his presence. you merely listened, soaking in his words and absorbing each syllable that spilled out of the cracks between his teeth. your confession rendered you utterly silent, but seemingly, he paid no mind.

again, your conversation ended without a proper goodbye. your notebook sat still on the table. moments after his departure, you stayed in your seat, contemplating the complications of this newfound acquaintance.

alhaitham’s life revolved around routine and quiet. he needed both to go about his day in an efficient and satisfying manner; otherwise, he would end up feeling rather unfulfilled and bothered.

perhaps that is why he found himself so drawn to you. in comparison to many of his classmates, who were incessantly obnoxious and needlessly talkative, you were quiet, not just vocally, but in every other aspect. your handwriting was consistent and each letter looked just as neat as the other. your responses were similar to his in that they were direct and honest. and, oddly, you radiated a warmth that he could not see in anyone else.

his next encounter with you wouldn’t be for a handful of days. he knew you were a student, thus resulting in his confusion — he had never seen you around campus until that day.

he ran into you during one of his lectures. you sat right beside him in a seat that wasn’t usually occupied. he began to question you with pen and paper, as usual.

since when were you enrolled in this class?

i always have been. this isn’t a necessary class for my darshan, it’s just an extra period for me to increase my credits. i don’t come to class very often.

he quirked a brow up. you fiddled with your pen.

interesting how i haven’t heard of you until now. alhaitham smiled softly at your muffled giggle, one that he had not heard until then. the noise swarmed his chest with a lightness he could not replicate.

you might have fallen too soon.

alhaitham was a simple man, yet alluring all the same. you had snuck away his perfections and imperfections in a different notebook. for instance:

3 - straightforward and direct

21 - prefers tea over coffee

44 - can’t sleep without a weighted blanket

your ever-growing infatuation for him began to blossom in the cavities of your stomach, and soon, it would infect everything above. you could not bear it — nights spent in solitude, where he would discuss his interests (which were minimal) until you fell asleep; afternoons spent in comfort, where you would share a slice of cake to celebrating a particularly difficult exam. he consumed your very being, the neurons that invoked muscular response and the veins that carried your blood here and there; all of it was him. and yet, you could not meaningfully share this with him, your silence embedding your heart in a crevice far away.

it seemed that he got to it first, anyways.

alhaitham asked you a simple question — if you were capable of speaking for a day, what would you say? he had begun carrying his own memo book to conversate — another addition to the list.

you sat in silence for a brief period before writing, every thought and feeling and idea that has ever encountered my mind would leave my lips.

he wrote, then i will give you just that, and more.

when you began dating alhaitham, you found that he was much more eager to “speak” to you consistently. he would write in his same font and present to you a variety of inquiries, ranging from plans for the day to what you wanted for dinner. he was the epitome of a loving man, a far cry from the tales of coldheartedness and brutality you’ve heard of him. and yet, something began to gnaw at your lungs as he did so.

alhaitham was your voice to speak through — he was the monotonous ramblings, the heavy whispers, the gentle laughs; he held all of those for you. seemingly, life became far more breathable.

but your love was just as restricting as it was kind. to speak is to suffer, but to not speak at all is beyond that — it is torture. nights were spent staring at alhaitham’s sleeping figure, questioning whether he truly felt the affection you expressed. gifts, contact, quality time; what good was it if you could not do something as simple as converse with him? it extended beyond him, as well — for reasons unknown, it grew increasingly difficult to communicate with your new professors and classmates, the downturns of their lips as you pulled out a notebook gut-wrenching. you questioned if alhaitham felt the same.

you began to spiral.

a rapid set of knocks arrived at your door at a questionable hour. the sun hung high in the sky, albeit obscured by your curtains. a soft buzz rung in your room.

“i know you’re inside,” a voice spoke from the other side of the wood. he knocked again.

you made no move to open the door, nor to approach it, nor to get up from your bed. in response, the hinges creaked and heavy footsteps neared.

“why have you locked yourself in here?” alhaitham asked, his tone indiscernible. you didn’t see it, but you heard him shuffling around your bedroom. “where is your notebook?”

it was silly. he spoke as if you could respond, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be sorrowful or upset.

he pulled the blanket from off of your head, his face indifferent as he witnessed your disheveled state. “i’m not sure what’s going on, but i can assure you i will wait until you’re well enough to speak to me again. i will always wait.” alhaitham set his own memo book and pen beside your pillow. a warm hand held yours, a signal of reassurance. “please get better as soon as you can.”

he turned around to leave, and you could not bring yourself to reach out for him. what would you do? would the words crawl out of your throat, akin to a miracle? or would you plead at him with desperate eyes in hopes he’d read your mind? you did not know. every instance would inconvenience him in some way — that you could not bear.

you did not step foot outside for another week. alhaitham (and kaveh, much to your surprise) had left meals and gifts next to your door, all of which remained untouched. you were in stasis.

each thought had been replaced by a fog so asphyxiating that it had drowned every word the moment it rose to the surface. a bubbling exhaustion boiled in you. you wished to speak, to express anything at all, to apologize for inconveniencing those around you, and to apologize to alhaitham for putting him through such an obstacle.

as if sensing this desire, he arrived at your dorm again, this time with a more gentle appearance and a large bag behind him.

you reached out for the notebook he placed beside you a week prior. why are you here?

he kneeled down beside you, paying no mind to your disheveled appearance, and spoke softly, “i’m sorry.” if it were fitting, he would have laughed at the instantaneous furrow of your brows. “i should’ve realized. and in failing to do so, i have failed you.” alhaitham took the notebook and pen from your grasp, and with an unrivaled delicacy, he held you.

“i would give up my own voice if it meant i could spend an eternity with you,” he began. “i do not care if you lack a voice of your own. you’re still embedded in my heart all the same.”

you had not written to him for days. and yet, he understood everything. he read the words displayed in your features with a familiarity no one had demonstrated.

758 - willing to help me heal.

alhaitham sat across from you, his back hunched over his work and his face framed with a mix of feather-gray hair and wispy sunlight. he wrote with an unmatched fluidity, as if time were escaping him.

he let out a sigh as he set down his pencil and sat up straight. “why must you sit with me if you’ve finished this assignment weeks ago? it’s as if you’re mocking me.”

it’s entertaining. he grabbed the notebook from your side of the table and wrote haphazardly, contrasting his smooth technique before.

it’s really not. i feel as if i’m being ridiculed and observed under a microscrope. it’s horrible, he teased.

you’re smart, anyways. you’ll survive.

afternoons in the akademiya’s library were once suffocating and exhausting. to be surrounded by peers who could only sneer and misjudge and question was unpleasant. now, as you sat with your lover in a soft silence, you felt at peace.

[l0velysmut]

neteyam x fem!reader x aonung

contains: PURE FILTH!!!! poly relationship, dom!aonung, sub!neteyam, switch!reader, na’vi!reader, oral (neteyam + reader receiving), guided oral, dirty talk, p in v, creampie, cum eating, voyeurism ???, brief hand job, use of Y/N. i think that’s it.

na’vi words: kelku = home , muntxate = wife , muntxatan = husband , yawne = beloved , kuru = neural queue.

wc: 2.8k (holy shit) unedited

a/n: i wrote this while on cloud 9 😭 idk what was going thru my head, my fingers were just typing and now we have this.

“C’mon, be a good girl for me.” Aonung whispered into your ear as Aonung took hold on Neteyams throbbing cock, slapping the tip of his dick on your tongue gently. Even though Neteyam was the one standing up with both you and Aonung on your knees before him, you and Neteyam both knew very well that Aonung was still in charge. He almost always was.

You glance over at Aonung and see him staring at Neteyams tip which rested on your tongue, and you widen your mouth, taking Neteyam’s leaking tip into your mouth. Neteyam exhaled shakily, and Aonung “comforted” him shortly by rubbing his thigh whilst his other hand rested on the back of your head, pressing against the base of your kuru.

Aonung pushes your head further down Neteyams cock, forcing you to take his entire length into your mouth until you gagged. Aonung watched closely in delight as your eyes welled with tears, and he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple, gripping your head tighter so that he could easily push your head back and forth on Neteyam’s cock.

Neteyam looked up at the ceiling of the kelku he and Aonung built together for the three of you with his hands behind his back, trying his best not to cum. He didn’t want to look down because he knew he would cum in an instant at the sight of you, but he also couldn’t handle it if Aonung happened to look up at him with that menacing glare. Aonung took away his privilege of making any noises — this was his punishment for being a brat for the whole day, although at first glance it would’ve seemed like you were being punished from the way Aonung bobbed your head back and forth on Neteyam’s cock roughly.

But no matter how rough Aonung was, he always praised you two unlike Neteyam who only got rough when he was mad and when he got mad, he tended to say mean and harsh things without thinking.

You gag on Neteyam’s cock, trying your best to inhale through your nose as Aonung forced your head. You started slobbering all over the poor man’s dick in such a short time, and you moaned before swallowing to envelop Neteyams cock tighter in your throat.

Neteyam bit his lip as hard as he could to hold back the noises that threatened to spill without permission, drawing a small amount of blood in the process. He huffed and took deep inhales and exhales, trying to calm himself down, but he mindlessly abandoned his past thoughts for a second and accidentally looked down at the sight below him.

He saw you with your hands on both of his thighs, gripping his plush flesh as you gulped and gagged on his cock, looking up at him with hazy eyes that were glossed over with lust. He also saw Aonung staring at the way you sucked his cock intensely, praising you and talking you through it.

“Good girl, Ma’Muntxate. Sucking his cock so well even though he doesn’t deserve it.” Aonung says to you, reaching his free hand down between your thighs, smirking at how wet you were then looking up at Neteyam who stared down with wide eyes.

Aonung stared into Neteyam’s eyes, giving a mocking pout which caused Neteyam to look away and stare at you instead.

You really were stuck in your own world as you slurped his cock down your throat. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, whimpering and whining around his cock as Aonungs fingers toyed with your clit, rolling it between his fingers and pinching whenever you gagged.

“Aonung- Sir! I’m gonna…” Neteyam whined out, beginning to get fidgety as he felt his orgasm approaching, the heat in his lower abdomen growing more and more.

Aonung pulled your head off Neteyam’s cock, causing a surprised choke to leave your lips as you gasp for air, spit dripping down your chin and neck. You lick your lips and look up at Neteyam, but Aonung releases the back of your head to grab your chin to force you to look at him.

You make passionate eye contact with him, and he rubs your slit, drenching his fingers before sinking the tips of two out of three fingers into you, making you gasp and squirm on your knees.

“Been so good for me,” He whispers, leaning in to kiss your lips, getting a taste of Neteyams cock. “Let’s give our Teyam a show, shall we?”

You don’t say anything, you just grin and look up at Neteyam who’s chest seemed to be heaving as he silently begged for relief. He looked down at you and licked his lips, watching in agony as Aonung fingered you, making you moan and hold onto your other mate. You rolled your hips against Aonungs hand all while looking up at Neteyam who whimpered with tears forming.

Aonungs ears perk up at the noise that leaves the slim man, and his head shoots up to give him a glare. Neteyam gulped and without a second thought, he backed up and sat on the ground just like Aonung wanted. Aonung mentally cursed at his muntxatan for knowing his sexual habits so well, and Aonung nodded his head in approval.

“It’s okay, Tey. Just be good and we’ll give you what you want.” You say, crawling over to be in between Neteyam’s legs. You trail a finger up his pulsing cock, and kiss his lips softly. Neteyam eagerly kissed back, trying to deepen the kiss, but Aonung caught it and pulled you away, laying you down on your back right in between Neteyams legs.

You rest your head on Neteyams thigh as Aonung hovered over you, his hand pressed against your stomach to hold you down.

“Now, you’re gonna watch me fuck our yawne, and you’re not gonna do a single thing about it. No touching yourself, no touching her, no talking. Don’t even make a noise.” Aonung spat harshly at Neteyam who swallowed thickly and watched as Aonung pried his tewng off of his body, revealing his thick girth that leaked heavily of pre-cum. Your metkayina born mate rubbed your clit with his thumb, and then turned to look at Neteyam.

“Do you understand?” Aonung asked, glaring at him.

Neteyam nodded, but he quickly said, “Yes, sir,” because he knew that a simple action wouldn’t be good enough for Aonung.

“Be a good boy for us, okay? We’ll let you cum if you just behave.” You say softly to your mate, slightly feeling bad for him when you looked up and saw his eyes all glossy and lip quivering.

“It’ll be okay-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp when Aonung smacks his tip against your leaking folds to attempt to shut you up.

“Stop sweet talking him or else you won’t be able to cum either.” He warned, curly hair falling over his shoulder as he looked down at you. You nod in understanding, and Neteyam furrowed his hairless brows in frustration when Aonung didn't react to your simple action. If it were him, he would’ve been punished for not using his words.

Neteyam watched as Aonung pushed into you with a groan. You moaned and one of your hands grabbed Neteyams thigh, digging your nails into his flesh.

“Fuck! I’m- ‘Nung!” You moan, already being so close to the finish line due to Aonungs foreplay minutes ago.

“I know, baby. I can feel you.” Aonung leaned down and pressed his lips against your forehead, fucking you deep and slow, stretching you out. At this moment, he wasn’t trying to fuck you dumb, he was making sweet sweet love to you because he knew that it would drive Neteyam crazy and make his head spin as well as yours.

You loved the stretch of Neteyam’s cock, but nothing could compare to the stretch of Aonungs cock. Aonung was much thicker then Neteyam — though Neteyam was longer — and he often had to stay still for a minute when he bottoms out in you to let you adjust.

“Look at her when she cums, forest boy.” Aonung demands, his pace growing faster so that you all could hear how wet you were.

Neteyam is forced to open his eyes and stare down at you as your back arches and you moan out Aonungs name over and over again. Pure euphoria was all Neteyam could see, and his cock twitched at the sight of you creaming all over Aonungs cock while you rest between his legs.

Aonung groans loudly at the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around him repeatedly, and he brings one of his hands to your mouth, pushing his thumb between your lips and smiling in pleasure when you happily open your mouth to take in his thumb and suckle on it as if it were a cock.

Neteyams hips jerked, causing your head to jerk up as well which alerted Aonung of Neteyams action. Aonungs other hand pressed down on Neteyams thigh, right next to your head.

“Stay still.” Aonung says through gritted teeth as he continues to fuck you. He looks at Neteyam and he almost feels bad for a moment when he sees how vulnerable his muntxatan looked. “I know it’s hard, Teyam, but you’ll live. You’re a strong boy, aren’t you?”

Neteyam nodded quickly. “Yes, yes. ‘M your strong boy.”

“But you’re also hers.” Aonung corrected, tilting his head down to you who wasn’t even paying attention to your mates; you just closed your eyes and was in your own world once again as Aonung fucked you, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

“Yes, I’m hers.” Neteyam says, nodding again.

“Y’hear that, Ma’Y/N?” Aonung looks down at you, removing his thumb from your mouth, then chuckles. “Course you didn’t.”

“Hm?” You open your eyes and look up at Aonung who smirked down at you. Your gaze shifts to Neteyam, then back to Aonung. “We’re you talking to me?”

“Yes, but it’s okay, baby. Just keep laying there all pretty.” Aonung says to you gently, slowing his pace to grind his hips against you, his pelvis pressing against yours.

You whimper and nod, keeping your eyes open the best you could before they rolled into the back of your head when Aonung gave a particularly hard thrust against that pleasurable gummy spot inside of you.

“Fuck, she feels so good. So warm and tight. Bet you wish you could fuck her.” Aonung glances at Neteyam who bit his lip, then Aonung moans loudly when you clench around him for shits and giggles. “Naughty girl.”

You giggle softly and Aonung can’t help but smile. You look at Neteyam who was looking so desperate and agitated. You could tell he was itching to get some sort of friction as he shifted his hips slightly enough for you to feel it but not enough for Aonung to notice.

“Hmmm, gonna cum inside you. Paint your fucking insides white.” Aonung grunted, practically growling. “Y’gonna let me? Y’gonna let me breed you right in front of our mate? Huh?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes! Please, cum inside me ‘Nung. I need it!” You moan, rolling your hips to push him past his limit.

You hear Neteyams breathing get heavier, and you also hear Aonungs moans get louder and louder.

You loved how he didn’t care about the clan hearing. You loved that he took advantage of his role as Olo’eyktan, knowing that no one could tell him what to do or to be quiet.

One of your arms wraps around Aonungs neck, pulling him in so that he could rub his cheek against your scent glands, and one of your hands rubs Neteyam’s thighs. You sneakily brought your hand to wrap around his cock whilst Aonung didn’t have his eyes on him, and Neteyams jaw fell open, letting out silent moans.

Aonungs hips rutted against you to his hearts content, and his teeth sank into the skin of your shoulder as he smacked his hips against yours one final time.

He released into your with strangled moans and groans, his noises muffled against your skin. You feel his thick cum spurting inside of you, and you nearly came at the stimulation of his warm release. Aonung gripped Neteyams thigh tightly, and his other hand ran up your body to squeeze your tits. Aonung always came a lot in situations like these, so you made sure to comfort him through his orgasm.

Neteyam watches in pleasure between your hand stroking him slowly due to the awkward position you put your hand in to do so, and Aonungs orgasm, but Neteyams whines internally when your hand leaves his weeping cock to run your fingers through Aonungs loose and curly hair. You rub his neck, whispering sweet nothings into Aonungs ear.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Doing so well, baby.” You whisper softly to him, and he whines briefly.

Aonung lifts himself up with shaky arms and closed eyes before opening them to look down at you as he pulls out slowly. His cock seemed never ending as he was pulling out, and when he was finally out, you whimpered at the empty feeling in your stomach.

Aonung sits up and his knees, running his fingers through his hair whilst taking deep breaths. He grabs your hips and moves your body so that Neteyam could get a good view of Aonungs cum leaking out of your pretty pussy.

“Look at all that.” Aonung says, holding your legs open. Neteyam licked his lips, desperately wanting to disobey Aonungs orders and dive right in to the delicious meal on display for him.

“Aonung,” You call out to him, reaching a hand down to his forearm. “He’s been good, shouldn’t he be rewarded? I think he should.”

Neteyam is grateful for you trying to convince Aonung to let him join in on the fun, and he stares at you as you look at Aonung with your beautiful blue puppy eyes. Aonung looks back at you, contemplating in his mind. He can never say no to you when you look so gorgeous, and he growls in aggravation when he decides to oblige.

“I suppose you’re right. He’s been good enough, but don’t forget how he was acting earlier. His attitude is how we got in this position, anyway.” Aonung states and you shake your head.

“I didn’t forget. I just know we all have our bad days, and I think Teyam over here deserves a second chance.” You reply.

“You didn’t hear how he spoke to me.” Aonung argues, but you argue back.

“No, but I know that even you can be a bit mouthy when you’re in a bad mood. Why should his punishment be nothing? Why not everything all at once?” You suggest, gazing into Aonungs eyes. “You won’t talk to him like that again, now will you, Teyam?” You avert your attention to Neteyam who looked like he was about to burst any second.

“Fuck, please, I’ll never speak to you like that again, I promise.” Neteyam cries out, begging Aonung for forgiveness. “I was just in a bad mood, I swear. Just please give me something.”

“C’mon, ‘Nung. Who could say no to a pretty face like that?” You say, and Aonung looks at Neteyam, tracing the darker blue boys jawline softly.

Aonung huffs and takes hold of the back of Neteyams neck, pulling him up and then laying him on his stomach with his face right in front of your leaking pussy.

Neteyams hands go to grab your thighs once he gets a smell of yours and Aonungs scent mixed together, but Aonung growls and snaps, “Keep your hands behind your fucking back.”

Neteyam brings his hands back behind his back, and tries to inch his mouth closer to get a taste.

“Someone’s desperate.” You giggle, teasingly bringing your cunt closer to him.

“You have no idea.” He responds, eyes locked on all the juices that glistened in the dimly lit mauri. His mouth watered seeing Aonungs cum leaking and dripping down your taint and puckered hole, wanting nothing more than to drink it all up.

Aonung shifts to get behind Neteyam, then pushes Neteyams head into your cunt, causing a sharp moan to leave your lips. You’ve never felt Neteyam eat you out like this before, he was so hungry and his tongue worked wonders on your twitching bundle of nerves.

While that was happening, Aonung grabbed Neteyams thin tail which was swishing around and pulled it upwards, the fur on the tip of Neteyam’s tail curling inward to tickle his shoulder blades. Aonung pressed his tip against his aching hole, and Neteyam gasped against your drenched pussy when he felt it.

“Everything all at once, right?” Aonung inquired, looking at you for approval for once throughout the entire night. And when you nodded once feeling Aonungs heavy gaze, the real fun began and the night took a turn for the better.

another a/n: this has to be the longest and probably most interesting smut i’ve ever written. hope y’all enjoy! n don’t be a silent reader cuz if u enjoyed this, i would rlly appreciate it if u liked or reblogged! 🩷🩷🩷

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

omg this just popped into my head and i desperately need it like i literally will not be able to stop thinking about it about it till it is written but, ethan landry x reader fic based on gods and monsters by lana del rey oml like it would be phenomenal… i don’t want it to incorporate the lyrics i just want it based on the idea of the song? but not about them being actual gods and monsters like to her ethan is a god. especially the lyrics “this is heaven, what i truly want. it’s innocence lost.”. basically reader is super innocent and ethan sees her as an angel and feels the need to ruin her and she sees him as a god and is obsessed with him. super smutty and him praising her and talking her through it. i know this was a lot but i am obsessed with your writing and i think if you wrote this it would be amazing, but only if you’re comfortable 🫶☺️

HI! I hope this was what you wanted. 💕

Gods & Monsters - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're obsessed with Ethan and he's obsessed with you, but he'd dying to destroy your innocence.

Contains: Fluff-ish moments, Smut - Oral(m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, riding, rough-ish sex. Reader isn't a virgin but doesn't have a lot of experience.

A/N: This was one of the fics I lost the other day, and I'm so sad because I liked what I'd already written before. BUT I was determined to get this done lmao

You didn’t expect to fall so hard for Ethan Landry. What started as a small crush on one of your friends led to full-blown infatuation. Once you found yourself hanging off every word that slipped past his perfect lips, always making sure you were beside him whenever you’d go out with your friends, and even letting your grades slip a little just so you’d have the excuse to be alone with him to study, you realized how fucked you were. You didn’t care, though, because he’s everything you wanted.

He was tall, and very attractive. But what really sucked you in was the way he lit up whenever he talked to you about the things he was passionate about. The way his voice sounded first thing in the morning when you’d all spent the night at Tara’s. The way he ignored any other girls that looked in his direction, at least when he was with you.

Ethan was just as caught up in you as you were with him. The first night you walked into Tara’s, he could’ve sworn you were literally glowing. He thought you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen, and once he talked to you and realized how sweet you were, he knew he had to make you his. He found himself daydreaming about taking you on dates, holding your hand, kissing you. But sometimes, his thoughts weren’t so innocent.

He knew you weren’t a virgin, but after a drunken game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ turned sexual, he learned that there were a lot of things you hadn’t done. He wanted to be the first, and hopefully only person you’d do those things with. He even went as far as wondering how you’d sound, the faces you’d make, how much of him you could take in your mouth before it was too much. He felt a little guilty from time to time for thinking about you in that way, because you were just so sweet. But the desire to destroy your innocence just kept getting stronger, no matter how hard he’d try to push those thoughts about you to the side.

The two of you shamelessly flirted with each other, so much that the rest of your friends thought there was something more going on than there was. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to pull you into his lap whenever there wasn’t an empty seat available beside him, or for the two of you to be so caught up in your own conversations that you’d forget your friends were even there. He wanted to take things to the next level, but he’d always get nervous and shut down whenever he got close to kissing you.

You lived down the hall from Tara, which made it so convenient for you and Ethan’s study sessions. Whenever you had plans with your friends, Ethan would come to your apartment to study with you before. With exams coming up, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about how he needed to get over his nerves and finally make a move. He knew he’d still get to see you, but he wouldn’t have the excuse to spend alone time with you.

As Ethan sat on your bed, his fingers moving against his keyboard, you started to get bored. He kept peaking over his laptop screen to see you stretched out on your stomach at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your phone.

“That’s not homework,” he said, playfully scolding you as you sat up to look at him.

“If I have to keep looking at anything school related, I’m going to go crazy.”

“We still have over an hour before we have to go to Tara’s. What would you like to do?” He asked, closing his computer to give you his attention.

“We could watch a funny movie. I need to laugh,” you suggested, as he shook his head.

“We don’t have enough time for that…but,” he said, sitting his laptop on the bed beside him. “I know how to make you laugh.”

He smirked as he crawled closer to you. You knew what was coming, the slight look of panic in your eyes making him chuckle before his fingers dug into your sides.

“Ethan,” you whined, trying to grab at his hands to pull them off you. You were starting to tear up from laughing, and your breathing was getting heavier. “Stop it! You’re going to make me fall off the bed!”

“I’d never let that happen,” he said, his fingers not letting up.

“Seriously, Ethan!” You were starting to wheeze from laughing so hard, so he finally pulled his hands away. You placed one of your hands on your chest as you tried to take deep breaths, as Ethan settled back into the spot he was in before on your bed. “That was so mean.”

“I think it’s funny that you’ve never tried to get me back,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Is it because I’m stronger than you?”

“Knowing you, you’d have me pinned to the bed so I wouldn’t be able to move while you tickled me.”

Ethan got a little caught up in the idea of that. He wanted to have you pinned to the bed, but not to tickle you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you were moving closer to him, the only thing bringing him back into the moment was when your fingertips started to move against his sides.

“Hey!” he said through his laughter as he grabbed at your hands. You weren’t going to give up easily, so you moved to straddle him, pulling your hands away every time he reached for them. “Please, you gotta stop!”

“No,” you said, your hands moving further up his ribs, making him laugh even harder. He knew it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but the way your ass was rubbing against him as you moved was making him hard.

“Stop!” he yelled, finally grabbing your hands. Your face dropped as you looked at him, and he immediately felt guilty for yelling at you like that. “I’m sorry…you’re just,” he said, letting out a gasp once you started to move off him, your eyes going wide once you felt how hard he was underneath you. “That. You’re making me hard.”

“Oh,” you softly said, staring at the bulge in his jeans. “Is it a bad thing that I did?”

“No…I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighed, before he sat up. “Does it make you uncomfortable that you do that to me?”

He watched your cheeks turn pink at his question. This wasn’t how he planned on making his move, but the door was wide open for him to have the conversation.

“No,” you said, “have I made you hard before?”

“I get hard just thinking about you,” he confessed, the sexual tension in the room getting stronger as each second passed.

You were starting to get nervous as you sat there. You didn’t have the most experience in the world, your previous sexual encounters with your ex mainly consisted of you just laying there and waiting until he was done, so you didn’t know how to give a blow job. But you wanted to learn. You wanted Ethan to teach you.

“Can I…suck it?” you asked, his eyes growing wide. “Sorry, stupid question.”

“No, it’s not stupid…do you want me to tell you how to do it?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded. “Okay, uh, I’ll just get these off.”

He slid off the side of your bed and unbuttoned his jeans before shimmying them down his legs. You gawked as you saw the tent in his boxers, wondering if you were in over your head for even thinking you could do this.

“I hate to ask this…” no he didn’t. “But would you want to get on the floor? It’d be easier for you.” You nodded as you slid off the side of the bed and stood in front of him. “Wait,” he said, once you started to drop to your knees. You stood back up to face him, as he leaned in to kiss you. You needily kissed him back, your hands on his cheeks as he started to rub your hips. Once you pulled back, he smiled at you. “You don’t feel like you have to do this, right?”

“No, I want to do this,” you said, looking at him as you sank onto the floor.

“Fuck…eye contact like that is good,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I guess I’ll just slide these down.”

His fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers as he slid them down his thighs, his cock springing free right in front of your face. He let out a sweet laugh once he noticed how wide your eyes got.

“Do I just put it in my mouth?” you asked, as he groaned at how innocent you were.

“Let’s start with just touching it,” he suggested, as you nodded and reached your hand up. “Wrap your hand around it…just like that, baby,” he said, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain himself. “Now move your hand back and forth, but not too fast.”

You did as he said, your eyes glancing between his and his cock. You weren’t sure if you were good at what you were doing, but he was breathing heavier the longer you did it.

“Do you want to try to put it in your mouth?” he asked, as you nodded and leaned forward. “How about you just do what you think is right and I’ll tell you if it’s bad or good?”

“Okay,” you shyly said, hoping that you would get it right.

Ethan’s biggest fantasy was coming to fruition. His head was spinning as you took the head of his cock in your mouth, your hand still stroking him. Even though you weren’t a virgin, he still felt like he was devirginizing you, at least in this way.

“That’s perfect,” he said, his eyes looking into yours as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Try to take a little more.”

You did as he said, easing a little more of him into your mouth. His hand tangled in your hair, his grip loose. The last thing he wanted was to push you too far and make you want to stop when you’d just started. He was about to ask you for more, when you boldly took as much of him as you could in your mouth, to the point that you were gagging around him. You quickly pulled your head back, refusing to make eye contact like you’d just done something wrong.

“Hey,” Ethan said, his hand that was in your hair moved to your chin. He tilted your head so you’d look at him, your eyes already watery from the gagging. “If you want to keep going, there’s a little tip that helps with that.”

He showed you the thumb trick, and talked to you about bobbing your head too, along with moving your hand. Once you felt like you had a better understanding of what you needed to do, you leaned forward, taking just as much of him in your mouth as you did before.

You were still gagging a little, but not as bad as you did the first time. Your mouth kept getting more and more wet, the feeling making Ethan groan. His hand snaked back in your hair as he fought the urge to thrust in your mouth.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, “Twist your hand a little…oh fuck.”

You were catching on quickly, and Ethan was so proud of you. Your eyes stayed on his, even when tears started to slip past your lower lash line. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I try something?” he asked, his eyes pleading with yours. You hummed around him to let him know he could, because the last thing you wanted to do was pull him out of your mouth.

He started to thrust past your lips as you gagged around him, your free hand gripping your thumb as hard as you could. Big, fat teardrops were flowing down your cheeks, but you were loving it. His eyes were fluttering as his jaw dropped open, but he still stayed focused on you, not wanting any of this to be too much.

“I’m gonna cum,” he said, his voice a little raspy from his panting. “Can I cum in your mouth?”

You hummed around him again to respond, the vibrations around his cock sending him over the edge as his hand tensed up in your hair, tugging on it harder than he wanted to. You just kept moaning around him, so turned on as his salty cum coated your tastebuds. He gave a few more weak thrusts as his hand in your hair relaxed before he slowly slid out of your mouth.

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching down to take your hand. He helped you to your feet before wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“Yeah, I liked that,” you said, your voice raw from all the gagging. “Can we do it again?”

“We can do anything you want to,” he said, placing his hands on your hips to hold you close. “But right now, can I eat you out?”

“Oh, Um,” you mumbled, your cheeks getting rosy at the idea. “You want to do that?”

“I’m not your ex,” he said, smirking at you. “I bet he never made you cum.”

“He didn’t,” you sighed, as Ethan backed you towards the bed.

“I will,” he said, as he started to lift your shirt.

Ethan got you out of your jeans and shirt, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He hovered over you, his mouth moving against your neck as his hand roamed your body. You were squirming as you tried to patient, but it was getting harder for you, especially when his hand reached in between your thighs and rubbed you over your panties.

“So wet,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath giving you goosebumps. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

He pulled his hand away as he sat up, grabbing your hands for you to sit up, too. His hands reached around you to unhook your bra, his mouth not leaving your neck as he slid the straps down your arms and threw it to the other side of the room.

“We have to go to Tara’s soon,” you reminded him, as he pulled away and started to laugh.

“We’re probably going to be late.”

He leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You started to whimper as he sucked, pulling off it with a soft pop before he moved to the other side.

Once his lips trailed further down your body, you were trying so hard to be in the moment, but your mind started to wander. You practically worshiped the ground Ethan walked on, and all he wanted in that moment was you, but you still didn’t know if this was going to anything more than a friends with benefits situation, or if he wanted to be with you like you wanted to be with him.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he started to kiss your inner thighs.

“Mmm, it’s nothing,” you moaned once he started to suck your flesh into his mouth.

He pulled away to look at you, “No, tell me.”

You sighed in frustration, both from him stopping and you really didn’t want to pour your heart out to him in that moment. But he just kept staring at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’ve…fuck,” you sighed, taking a deep breath. “I want this…but I need to know how you feel about me.”

He smiled at you as your blush spread across your cheeks. “You haven’t realized that I’m in love with you yet?”

“In love with me?” you asked, as he slid your panties down your legs.

“Mhm, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he said, before he buried his head between your thighs.

“Shit,” you gasped, as his tongue licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit.

He started to focus on your clit, giving all the attention to your needy bundle of nerves. You looked down to see that he was watching you, taking in all the little faces you were making. He was alternating between swirling and lightly sucking, the stimulation making your entire body feel hot.

He slid one of his fingers inside of you, your legs feeling shaky as he moved it against the spot inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed. He watched you start to fall apart over just one finger, and once he added another one, you were a whimpering mess. He licked your clit a few more times before he pulled away to talk to you, his fingers still moving.

“You never told me how you feel about me,” he said, curving his fingers to apply more pressure.   

“Unfff, fuck,” you whined, your hands tightly gripping the comforter underneath you.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop,” he playfully said, smirking as his fingers brought you closer to the edge.

Your brain was turning to mush, but you pulled yourself together for a second, not wanting him to stop. “I’m in love with you, too.”

He leaned back down to your clit, sucking on it a little harder than he had before. Your whines got louder as the euphoric feeling washed over you, his free hand holding down your bucking hips. It felt so good that your eyes started to water, your entire body tingling as he worked you through it.

Just as you came down from your high, you heard a knock coming from your front door. You were too fucked out from Ethan’s fingers to even care, as he started to laugh.

“I bet that’s Tara,” he said, as he laid down beside you. “We’re late.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, lazily sliding your naked body off the side of your bed, landing on your feet.

You grabbed your robe and put it on, your legs still wobbly as you made your way to the front door. You looked out the peephole to see Tara and Mindy.

“Hey,” Tara said once you opened the door, her smile dropping once she noticed you weren’t dressed. “Are you still coming over?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you said, noticing both of them staring at something. “What?”

“Is Ethan here?” Mindy asked, a smirk playing on her lips as she realized what was going on.

“Yeah, we’ll both be over in a few,” you said, still not understanding what they were looking at.

“Okay…you might want to cover that up before you come over,” Mindy said, gesturing to your neck as Tara started to giggle.

You bit your bottom lip as the embarrassment hit, realizing that Ethan sucking on your neck earlier must’ve left a hickey.

“No, you know what? You guys finish whatever ‘studying’ you’re doing, then come over. We’re sorry for interrupting,” Tara said, fighting off her laughter as she and Mindy walked down the hall to her apartment.

You sighed as you closed the door, knowing that you and Ethan were definitely going to be grilled once you did go to Tara’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me you put this on my neck?” you said, glancing at it in the mirror after you walked back in your room.

“Are you embarrassed that they know you’re mine?” he questioned, walking up behind you. He rested his head against your shoulder, but your mind was in a haze once you felt his hard cock pressing against you.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to be yours? I’m definitely not embarrassed,” you said, making him laugh as he moved your hair to the side the place more kisses to your neck.

“Well, I did hear them say we should finish studying,” he said, as his hand reached over to untie your robe. “I’m not done studying you yet.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, when his hand started to massage one of your breasts, gently pinching at your nipple. Your back leaned against his chest as you relaxed into his touches, your breathing getting heavier as his hand trailed lower. “Can I be on top?”

“For a little bit, yeah,” he mumbled against you as his fingers rubbed across your still-soaked pussy. “Is that okay?”

“Mhm.”

You had so many things you wanted to do with Ethan, so many things you hadn’t experienced yet. Any nerves you had about your inexperience faded, your confidence showing as you got on top to straddle him.

“Take your time, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, as you grabbed his cock that was resting against his lower stomach. You lined him up with your entrance and started to sink down on him. “So tight,” he groaned, as you tried to get used to the stretched-out feeling. He wasn’t all the way in and you already felt so full.

“Mmm,” you moaned once you’d taken all of him, your ass meeting the top of his thighs.

You took a minute, trying to adjust your legs to the most comfortable position as his hands ran up your sides. Once you started to bounce on him, his hands went to your hips to help you move. Your bottom lip went in between your teeth as you held eye contact with him. Once he started to thrust up into you, your hands went to your breasts, massaging them as he helped your hips meet his.

He loved having you on top, and he loved watching the way your tits bounced, but he needed to be in control. He needed to push your limits a little until you were falling apart underneath him. He held your hips in place a few seconds before he flipped you over, a squeal flying out of your mouth. He smirked down at you before he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you with his hands.

“Stop me if anything hurts, okay?” he said, as you smiled and nodded. He slid back inside of you, his hands right below the back of your knees as he started to pound into you.

Your mouth fell open as he fucked you, every sound that built up in your throat flying out. He was so deep, but the tip of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust.

“That feel good?” he asked, pushing your legs closer to you. You babbled in response, the new angle making him go even deeper. “Look at you, so cock drunk, so perfect.”

All you could do was whimper as you felt yourself getting close. You were fighting to keep your fluttering eyes open, because you didn’t want to miss a single second of watching him. The beautiful boy that you’d fallen so hard for had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead that his curls were starting to stick to, his bottom lip was in between his teeth. You felt so submissive as you just laid there and took it. You were okay with him using you in whatever way he wanted, because you’d do anything for him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked, as he felt your walls start to flutter.

“Yes!” you cried out, your hands shakily gripping the comforter again as the wave crashed into you so hard your vision got fuzzy. You kept trying to talk as he fucked you through it, his teeth showing as he smiled at your babbles.

“I’m almost there, baby. Can you take it a little longer?” he asked as your eyes peeled open to look at him.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you moaned, as he sped up, chasing his orgasm.

Your body kept jolting like little aftershocks from the intensity of your own orgasm, and you were feeling a little overstimulated, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. He was going so fast and so deep as he panted, mumbling your name as his head started to roll back.

“Gonna…fuck. Cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his release all over your tummy. He caught his breath as he looked at you through his hooded eyes. You smiled at him as he moved to lay on the bed beside you.

“I think we need to shower,” you said, glancing down at his cum on you. “I don’t really have anything that has a manly scent, though.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get to smell like you,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your arm.

After your shower with Ethan, you concealed the giant purple mark on your neck and took the walk of shame over to Tara’s. Your friends got quiet as you walked in, glancing back and forth between you and Ethan.

“Sooo,” Chad said, noticing Ethan’s wet hair, “Did you two finally realize that you’re meant to be together?”

“Oh yeah,” Ethan said, as Chad walked over to dap him up.

“It’s about time. It was getting exhausting to watch the two of you,” Mindy said, as Tara nodded in agreement.

You, Ethan and Chad walked over to sit on the couch as Mindy pushed play on the movie she was waiting to start until you got there. After a few minutes, Chad looked over to Ethan.

“Dude, this is a little blunt, but you smell so good right now.”

You started to giggle as Ethan laughed and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close.

“He’s right, you do smell good.”

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Protective Carmilla x fem blind reader!

“Stay Away From Them”

(Requested by PoosayDestroyer on AO3)

A/n: I hope this isn’t disrespectful towards blind ppl since I’ve never wrote about them before-

Summary: reader is blind, and some perv tries to upskirt her, and Carmilla is there to protect the reader

Noises, noises, noises. That’s it. The only thing you could ‘observe’ was noise. Reason for it? Your blind. You’ve been blind ever since you entered hell. The sinners in hell are based off of their insecurities, their deaths, and things they hate. You? You were always called ‘blind’ because you were so oblivious to a lot of things..and hell decided to ‘gift’ you with that.

It wasn’t all bad though. Hell did give you something that you don’t regret having, your lover Carmilla. She never minded that you’re blind, if anything she compliments you and appreciates you, even if you can’t see. And even if you can’t see her, you can just imagine how gorgeous she actually is, she sounds gorgeous too.

The weapon armer has always been so carrying and sweet for you. She’s basically your eyes. She helps you get dressed if you struggle, helps you get to places without bumping into anyone, and explains everything that’s going on that you cannot see. You really love her. Another thing she does for you is keep other demons away from you, she’s pretty darn protective.

Currently, you and her were walking around Pentagram cities streets in hell. She was with her daughters, and you, helping them out with orders in this part of town since she believed it was too dangerous for young girls like them to be alone. You decided to tag along because you just wanted to help and support.

While walking, she holds your hand to help you navigate through the streets and avoid demons. "Careful my love...there's.." she looked down at a dead sinners body that has been brutally gored by an exorcists spear, deciding to not tell you that theres a dead body right below your feet. "..a stump" she corrects and lightly pulls you around it.

"why's there a stump on the sidewalk?" you ask questionably, your head turned towards where her gorgeous voice was, trying your best to show your paying attention to her even if you can't see her.

Carmilla chuckles softly, she always found it cute when you weren't aware of many things, even if it was worrying too. "Oh well, it is hell afterall..something is going to be unexpected." she responds with a softer tone rather than her usual stern one.

"I guess your not wrong" you smile a little at her words and tone, oh god how much you'd do to see what she actually looked like, you know shes gorgeous. Odette and Clara came to a halt up ahead, Odette holding her clipboard as she checks off the territory, and Clara pulling an angelic spear out of a dead sinners body, lucky for you, you could only hear the spear pop out of the sinners side rather than see it.

Carmilla held your hand, then lead you over to a wall. She gently placed your hand on it, and told you to stay right there and to not let go. She wasn't going far, maybe 5 feet away from you wince her voice was pretty clear. She was talking to her daughters about some of the areas in the town they'd go to collect more of the angelic spears. You stayed quite, but also unaware. Lets just say today, wasn't the best day to wear a skirt.

While you were unaware, and obviously not paying attention to anything you can see-well, because your blind..a middle aged small imp approuched you. He was about half your size, maybe to your hips. he had a perverted smirk on his face as he sneaks up on your unaware and oblivious state. You gasp a little when you feel your skirt get lifted a little, there was no wind, so why..? Then you felt a hand on your rear, you jumped and spoke up "hey!" you exclaim with a gasp, catching your lovers attention.

Carmilla's head shoots over to your direction when she heard your distressed cry, and saw the hellborn, fury filled her eyes as she walked over and gave him a push, grabbing your hand to let you know your okay, as she glared down at him. "you little twit..touching girls? Do you really have nothing better to do with your pathetic little life?" the overlord threats with a dangerous look on her face, she would not tolerate such an act of disgust. "You have thirty seconds to run before i send a bullet through your retarded brain." she said calm, stern and intimidating with her arms crossed as she looked down at the quivering imp. The imp nods and scurried off fast, its safe to say he won't be coming near you again. Carmilla's tone and epression softened with concern laced with it. "Mi amor? are you alright? he didn't hurt you right?" she asked, both of her hands placed on the sides of your head as she tilted your head from side to side to check on you.

You let out a soft, shaken chuckle at her actions. "yea..im fine. Just a bit shaken.." you say softly, moving your hand up to hold one of her hands that were on your cheek, you looked in her eyes, even if you couldn't see her. "Thank you my dear..i probably would have been forced into something if you weren't here.." you say in appreitation.

"Anything for you my love.." she chuckled softly and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead while holding you close in her grasp. "Now lets get going, this town is already unsafe for the girls, and now you too. I don't feel comfortable putting you three in danger." she states worried, calling her daughters back over to you two as you both start to walk.

"fine by me.." you say as she takes your hand, leading you and being your eyes once again. Yes, being blind has its cons, you can't see, bumping into things are often, and you won't be able to observe things the ways others do...and it makes you feel left out. But, it also has its pros, its advantages, and sometimes the best thing that happened in your life, and for you, that Carmilla. No doubt about it.

[joelsgreys]

more hearts than mine

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

summary: Frankie promises you he’s not going anywhere.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. no physical description of reader, no mention of her age, reader has both of her parents, reader has a little sister (15 and unnamed), reader has a close relationship with her family (cannot say i am writing this from experience oop), reader is from a small, unnamed town somewhere in the midwest (state not specified), established relationship, mention of ex-boyfriend, mentions of alcohol consumption, reassurance, fluff, smutty themes towards the end but no smut.

word count: 2k

a/n: this was not planned and very spur of the moment. i think i needed a palette cleanse from writing so much joel. it’s my first time writing for frankie but i like the way it turned out. <3 i it’s 3 am, i wrote this in an hour and it is not proofread, so please excuse any errors. this is based on a song called more hearts than mine by ingrid andress.

“It’s late,” you worry. “Where could they be?”

Amused, your mother watches you anxiously pace back and forth in front of the dining room table. “My darling, can you please relax? They probably hit some traffic on their way back home from the lake. I bet you anything those two will be walking through the front door any second now,” she assures you. At that precise moment, her cell phone vibrates on the table, the loud buzzing noise garnering her attention. She picks it up and raises her eyebrows in complete surprise. “Oh. Or maybe not. Your father just texted me and said they’re stopping for a couple of drinks at the bar. He says not to wait up for them.”

Halting mid pace, you whirl around and stare at her. 

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” She shows you the text. “See?”

“Jesus,” you mutter. Shaking your head, you drop down into the chair across from hers.

“That’s a pretty good sign. Don’t you think so, honey?”

It is because your father taking your boyfriend out on a fishing trip and then taking him to his favorite bar for drinks afterwards means that their time alone together has gone well. But, even though your father had clearly taken a liking to him, he won’t ever show it. Sure, he’ll buy him dinner and he’ll buy him drinks, he’ll check his tires and take a look underneath the hood of his pickup truck to make sure everything looks good, but he’ll do it with a scowl on his face and a standoffish attitude.

“He hates me, baby. Your old man hates me,” Frankie declared after his first dinner with your family. You had both arrived in your hometown that same evening after a gruelling, sixteen hour drive to the midwest. Despite being exhausted from the trip, he’d put his best foot forward for them—he’d charmed your mother and your little sister, had them both wrapped around his finger by the time dessert had been served. But your father, oh he had been much harder for him to win over. “He barely said two words to me all night.”

“My dad doesn’t hate you,” you swore to him, rubbing a soft, soothing circle into his broad back. “Do you want to know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because he poured you a drink.”

He’d snorted. “What, and that means he likes me?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you joked with a giggle. “It’s still too early to tell if he likes you. But one thing is for sure, he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t break out a bottle of whiskey for someone he hates, Frankie.”

Sighing, you lift your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Poor Frankie. He’s probably spent the better part of the whole day just trying to figure him out.

“I like him,” your mother says after a minute. “I like him a lot.”

“What a coincidence,” you grin. “I like him a lot too.”

She laughs. “I’m serious! He’s incredible, darling. He is so handsome. He’s sweet. Seems like he’s got a really good head on his shoulders—”

“Are we talking about Francisco?” Your sister walks into the dining room with can of Dr. Pepper in one hand and her cell phone in the other.

“As a matter of fact, we are.” Your mother smiles. “Isn’t he great?”

“He’s kinda perfect, actually.” She takes a casual sip of her soda and raises an eyebrow at you. “I have to admit though, I’m afraid to get attached to Frankie. You know, after what happened with Jake—”

You wince at the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name.

Your mother hisses her name, angrily.

“I’m just saying! When he broke up with you, it’s like he broke up with all of us. It sucked.” She shrugs, adding, “I mean, even dad was sad about it for months. Wasn’t he, mom?”

“Don’t you have a paper to write?” Your mother glares at her.

Your sister starts towards the staircase, but stops and glances over her shoulder. “I like Frankie,” she tells you, smiling wryly. “And I really hope he sticks around.” With that, she disappears upstairs.

Sighing heavily, your mom turns to you. “Don’t listen to her. She’s only fifteen, she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t understand what happened—”

Pushing away from the table, you stand up. 

“I’m going to take a walk,” you murmur. “I need some fresh air.”

“Hermosa?”

You stir at the sound of Frankie’s voice.

“Baby. Hey. Wake up.”

“Mm?” you mumble sleepily. “Frankie, what are—ow!”

You groan when he switches on the lamp on the beside table. Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, chuckling softly. The twin sized mattress squeaks, dipping as he somehow squeezes himself beside you on your childhood bed. He’s staying in the guest room down the hallway—you parents, who were incredibly old school, had insisted the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms during your stay. Draping his arm around you, he leans down and nuzzles into the side of your face. Even with your nose buried in your pillow, you pick up the scent of sunscreen mingled with beer. “Just wanted to tell you I’m back home.”

Lifting your head, you blink furiously until your blurred vision stabilizes.

“What—what time is it?”

“Eleven.” Frankie’s cheeks and nose are red, sunburned from having been out on your dad’s boat all afternoon. You’re willing to bet he’d forgotten to put the sunscreen on his face. Even though you’d warned him a hundred times not to forget.

“What?” You sit up, prompting him to do the same. “It’s eleven and you only now just got back?”

“Your old man took me to Gordon’s,” Frankie explains, referring to one of the only few bars your small town had to offer. It was the place where you would meet with your old high school friends to catch up with each other whenever you were home visiting. At some point this week, you would be sitting in a booth at that old bar with them, introducing Frankie, and squirming when they began to tell him embarrassing stories of all those crazy nights from your senior year. “We went in with plans to have a couple beers before coming home, but then we ran into some of his buddies there. He introduced me, they bought us more drinks, and we played a game of pool. Your dad whooped my ass, of course.”

“How did fishing go?”

“Great. Y’know, once he stopped looking at me like he wanted to throw me overboard.”

You let out an amused huff. “He would never.”

“I don’t know. That man is pretty hard to read.” Frankie reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “One minute we’d be talking, shooting the shit while we waited for the fish to bite, and the next he would look at me like he was seriously thinking about pushing me off his boat and into the water.” He squeezes your hand, a deep laugh rumbling through his chest. “I spent all goddamn day with him and I still can’t tell if he likes me yet or not.”

Lifting his hand, you press a tender kiss to the back of it, a sweet token of affection.

“He likes you, Frankie,” you murmur against his skin. “I know it. My whole family likes you. Except my mom—”

He stiffens. “What?”

“She loves you.”

Frankie turns to you. Despite your smile, he can see the hint of concern in your eyes. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

You hesitate.

After what your sister had said earlier that evening, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made a mistake and brought him home too soon. You and Frankie had been together for about six months now, and besides having a drawer of your things at his place for when you stayed overnight, you two hadn’t really sat down to talk about what the next step in your relationship would be—you and Frankie hadn’t discussed the possibility of a future together. Truth be told, you had never felt the need to question him about where this was heading. You’d been perfectly content in allowing things to unfold between you without putting any kind of pressure on yourself, or on him. At least, up until now, you had been content.

You’d been silly to think bringing Frankie home to meet your family wouldn’t be all that big of a deal, that it wouldn’t make you consider what came next. But you had forgotten how easily your mother falls in love, how quickly your little sister can form an attachment, and how your father, despite being rough around the edges, feels every heartache you go through as if it’s his own.

You think back to when your previous relationship went down in flames, you remember the helpless look on your father’s face whenever he would see you crying. “I never liked him,” he’d said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey over ice. But that had been a lie. He’d seen him as the son he never had. He lost something, too. Your whole family had to heal from that loss along with you.

Part of you is afraid that it could happen again.

“Amor?”

Frankie’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You glance down at your hand in his. “Frankie, the last thing I want to do is scare you off,” you start to say, a nervous edge to your tone. “Or put any kind of pressure on you to give me anything more than what you have already given me. But now that you’ve met my family, I can’t help but worry a little bit.”

He frowns. “What are you worried about?”

Sighing, you confess, “My last relationship—it didn’t end very well, Frankie. My family loved him, adored him the way I can see they’re already starting to adore you. When he broke up with me, he broke more hearts than just mine.” You force yourself to look up, and meet his gaze with a wistful smile. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s scared it’ll happen again.”

Frankie’s dark brown eyes soften. “Oh baby, there’s no need to be scared. That’s never gonna happen.”

“How can you be so sure it’ll never happen?”

“Easy, because I love you. And I know you love me.” He reaches over with his free hand and he cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your cheekbone. “I’m in this for the long haul. I wouldn’t have driven sixteen hours across the country with you to come meet your family if I wasn’t. I’m serious about you—I’m serious about us, baby.”

Frankie leans in, gently pressing his mouth to yours in a chaste, but sweet kiss.

“Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?” he mumbles against your lips.

“What do you see?”

“Mi futuro,” he tells you. “I see my future.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “You do?”

“I do. Believe me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, and so is your family,” Frankie grins. “Your dad is gonna have plenty of opportunities to contemplate throwing me off his boat and into the lake.”

You giggle as he kisses you again before trailing his lips down to your neck. “Frankie,” you say his name warningly as he pushes you onto your back. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, positioning himself on top of you. He plants his hands on either side of your head and dips his head, nipping lightly at the tender flesh over your pulse point. “How thin are these walls?”

“Francisco Morales, no, you are not fucking me in my parent’s house, not in my childhood bedroom—”

His bulge brushes against your thigh and you gasp.

“Guess I’ll head back to the guest room, then,” Frankie murmurs, feathering one last kiss onto your neck.

He starts to climb off of you and your hands shoot out, curling around fistfuls of his shirt to stop him.

“I can be quiet,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. You take one of his hands and guide it underneath the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing to the apex of your thighs. “Can you?”

“Hermosa,” Frankie groans, running a finger along the damp cotton of your panties. He slips it beneath the fabric, his blood rushing south when he meets your slick folds. “God, I fucking hope so, or else I’ll actually end up at the bottom of that fucking lake.”

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[briefalpacashark]

~Ghost of the past~

When returning to your hometown you faced with some unpleasant memories.

================================================

You stared. Your eyes locked on the projection in front of you. You sat with the boys all in a little meeting room as Price walked you through your next mission.

“Australia?” Soap asked.

“That's right. We got a lead that there a weapons cache. One of makarovs. We head in. Clear it out and take a few prisoners for questioning,” Price explained.

“Excited to go home lass?” You looked over the photos of the familiar landscape. Your expression was blank as you comprehend what Price was telling you.

“Lass?” Everyone's attention turned to you. 

“Huh?” You asked, snapping out of your little trance.

“You alright?” Gaz asked, giving your side a little nudge. Your usual bright smile graced your lips as you leaned back in the chair.

“Of course. Sorry Jonny. Was in my own little world. Whadya say?” you asked. You could feel it. The anxiety creeping up your spine. Ticking the back of your ribs.

“Asked if ya excited to go home?” Soap repeated with a grin. You smiled bashfully nodding your head.

“Of course. Where about we going?” you asked Price. He smiled warmly happy with what he was about to tell you.

“We're actually going to your old base, you got family down there, don't you?” he asked. The fear gripped your lungs, stopping any hope of breathing. You nodded.

“You got any hot sisters?” Soap asked. You chuckled, shaking your head. 

You were going home?

“Sorry Jonny. Only got a brother,” you said.

“Damn,” he faked disappointment as Gaz chuckled. Price smiled at the interaction.

“Who we working with?” you asked. 

“Australian special forces. Not sure what team yet,” he stated. 

That's fine. You thought. There were plenty of special forces units. The chances of meeting your old team were slim. But it was still there. You nodded, readjusting in your seat. You could feel the room getting small. The air getting thicker. You didn't take anything else in after that. Your forced smile stayed upon your lips the entire time. And inside your mind was a mess. A storm of past events that had haunted you for many a day and in the dark of night when you searched for sleep. 

“Doc want to come up here and give us a brief. We’ll be out in the bush and Laswell said you might know an insider's thing or two,” he gestured you up. All the fear and anxiety you felt was pushed way down low, locked away and covered in a black curtain. After all there was no use in worrying about something you couldn't change.

“Alright,” You cracked your knuckles slaughtering over to the white board.

“Rule number one!” You took a marker writing the word death in big letters.

“Anything and everything can and will try to kill you. And when I mean everything, I mean everything. No matter what, check your boots every time before you put them on. One bite from a funnel web and you're dead,” You took on a half joking half serious tone as you slapped the board.

“I can almost guarantee that you will come across a snake. Half of them are venomous, the other half aint. But they both will leave you alone if you leave them alone. You see a snake, you stay still, let him pass and then walk away. DO! NOT! PESTER! THE WILDLIFE! They can and will fuck you up,” the boys grinned as you emphasised the next words.

“Rule number two,” You wrote the word etiquette.

“When meeting someone or walking past someone you will be asked this question. Howya goin? Translated, it means how are you going. This is not a question. It is not an innovation to have a conversation. This is a greeting. The only appropriate response to this greeting are as follows,

Not to bad.

Could be better.

Good mate.

You can then have the option to say, yourself? It gives them the option to answer the same question. Do not feel offended if they dont answer,” You stated. 

“You will be called every name under the god damn sun. You will be called a cunt. It can be used as the greatest sign of affection and the greatest insult. It's all based on how they say it. Pay attention to the tone,” you said.

“You haven't called us cunts before. That mean you don't love us?” Soap asked.

“Speak for yourself,” Price spoke up. You grinned, turning back to the board. 

“Do not call anyone champ. That is the worst insult you can give, it will get you punched,” you wrote the word champ and put a larger x across it.

“If you are driving and someone gives way to you, always and I mean always give them a nod and a two-finger wave,” you explained demonstrating the movement.

“And for the love of god beware the drop bears,” you took a deathly serious tone as you wrote the word.

“The fuck is a drop bear?” Gaz asked. You turned staring deeply into their souls,

“They're about as big as a dog. Corse grey fur, one the most vicious animals you will meet down under. They hide in trees and drop down on unsuspecting prey, on unsuspecting people. They'll rip you to shreds faster than any of the bears here. Tear your face right of the bone” Inside you were howling with laughter as the flashes of fear you saw in the boys' faces. “Alright, that about covers it. Follow those rules and you should be fine,” You smiled cheerily.

On the flight over you found yourself staring deeply at the other side of the cargo area. It was actually happening. You thought about opting out of the mission. Using some bull shit excuse that excused you from attending. Price would have allowed it. 

And leave your team all alone? You smiled, shaking your head. No matter how scared you were, you would never abandon them. After all you had faced worse. Much worse.

But you didn't know if you could face them again.

Them?

Your old team. Every face is still fresh in your mind, as if you had only seen them yesterday. Leaning back, you closed your eyes as the plane started to descend. The fear was fighting to break free.

“You've been awfully quiet,” Your eyes snapped open, and you looked to your left where Ghost sat. His gaze was forward facing his arms crossed over his chest.

“Nervous I guess,” you chuckled. He slowly looked to you his eyes burning into your own seeming to look for whatever secret you were keeping. 

“How long has it been?” he asked.

“Not long enough,” with his eyes boring into yours you felt as if the truth was trusted out from your chest. He hummed, seeming to get everything he wanted from the interaction before returning to his quiet self.

The plane landed and the back ramp opened up. Heaving your bag onto your shoulders you let the boys take the lead, hoping to use their tall asses to keep you hidden. The hot Australian sun of the great QLD hit you all like a wave. You had gotten used to the rain and shady weather of the Uk. You all walked out and onto the tarmac.

“Hot as balls in ear,” Soap commented.

“Captain Price!” Your group made your way over to the soldier that had been sent to greet you. He was a colonel. A well decorated one by the look of his badges. You were glad when you didn't recognize him.

“Colonel James, I presume?” Price asked as they shook hands.

“You presume right. Welcome to Australia, come on,” he nodded you to follow. As you walked you began to feel eyes set upon you. You saw familiar faces mixed in with the crowd. Some recognized you. some didn't.

“I know Ghost is scary, but anyone feel like they're getting more looks than usual?” Gaz asked as he looked around.

“Yeah,” Soap agreed. You kept your eyes on Ghost back hoping to just get inside as soon as possible.

“Fucken hell,” Your blood ran cold at the familiar voice. 

“Ah. Captain. This is Major Adam. He leads the squad you'll be working besides,” the colonel just confirmed your worst-case scenario. “Also known as the Bloody Hells,” your hand instinctively tightens around the gun you carried casually in front of you. You wouldn't believe your luck, actually you could believe your luck. Trust lady luck to throw such a twisted day at you. 

“They wernt fucking about with you lot,” Major Adam stated as he looked Ghost up and down.

“Major,” The colonel warned.

“Come on mate. We're gonna risk our necks with these boys. I think we can dispense with the formalities. Call me Adam. none of that major shit,” Adam went through the lads introducing himself. And they in return.

“Isn't there supposed to be one more of you?” Adam asked. You prayed with all your might that Ghost would stay where he was. That you could hide behind him for the whole mission if possible. Only he looked back towards you stepping back to put you on full view. Adam eyes dropped from Ghost to you. Everything froze as he gave you a kind sad smile. He did look different in the slightest. Still the same drop-dead gorgeous face. Perfect bone structure and curly black hair. His face brought back a flood of memories.

“Y/N,” the way he so tenderly used your name made you want to puke. You clench your jaw as you debate on what exactly you should do. 

“Major,” You gave a curt nod.

“You two know each other?” Price asked calculating your reaction.

“She's a part of our team,” Adam stated simply.

“Used to be. This is my team now,” You nodded to the boys. Adam smiled with an understanding nod.

“Of course. But can I just say a goodbye would have been nice. Hell, even a reason as to why you left,” You couldn't believe the audacity of the man in front of you. He knew exactly why you had left. And he knew you knew. That sweet little smile he wore twisted ever so sinisterly at its edges. 

“Oh, Sargent Y/L/N?” The colonel asked.

“That's her name. She prefers to go by Maddog though,” Adam chuckled light heartedly.

“Mad dog?” Soap asked, turning to you. The boys were all watching you, unsecure of what to make of your behavior. 

“Old nick name,” you stated simply. From the moment he had arrived you had yet to take your eyes of Adam. Yet to release the tight hold you had on your weapon.

“Well, it's an honor. Heard a lot about your work from my brother. He's a medic as well,” The colonel gave you a kind smile.

“Maybe you could give the kid a few pointers,” Adam suggested. 

“Maybe,” you bit. You just wanted it all to be over. You wanted to get out of there. You wanted to get away from the interaction. Away from him. An awkward silence passed over the group as Adam stared at you.

“Well let's get you situated,” The colonel gestured your group forward. Adam gave you all a nod as you passed. Only his hand snapped out gripping painfully tight onto your upper arm.

“Welcome home sweetheart,” Adam smirked as he whispered the words. Your eyes narrowed into a glare. 

“Let go,” you ordered. His smirk widened but he refused to move. 

“What? Didn't you miss me?” he asked.

“Doc!” you both turned to the group who had walked a few steps away. Ghost had already turned to you having been the first to notice your missing presence. The rest turned to the call. The boys could all see it. How rigid your body was. How posed it was to jump into combat at a moment's notice. How white your knuckles had gotten because of your tight grip.

“Behave. Wouldn't want your new friends getting hurt,” the warning Adam gave you had you ripping your arm from his grasp.

“I could say the same to you,” you whispered back before jogging up to your team giving them a reassuring smile.

As you were unpacking your things you could feel the gazes of the boys on your back.

“Sooooooo,” Soap trailed off.

“He was the lead of my old team. Things didn't end on good terms,” you answered quickly.

“Things?” Soap was trying to lighten the mood with his teasing tone. You were surprised when you practically slammed your locker closed.

“I'll be back soon,” you rushed the words out as you left, keeping your back to the boys. As soon as you closed the doors they shared looks.

“She's been a mess since you told us we were comen here,” Ghost announced.

“So you noticed too?” Price asked, readjusting on his cot.

“Should we be worried?” Gaz asked. They had never dealt with this side of you before. 

“That Adam guy seems nice,” Soap shrugged.

“Too nice,” Ghost muttered.

So there you were. ACDC music blasting in the shed you currently resided in. At the moment you were gutting an old truck. Tearing it apart screw by screw, bolt by bolt. It was a part of the engineer's program you guys had. New recruits had to build it completely from scratch. That meant it had to be taken apart first. It was the job everyone hated. Yet since the start of your military career you had one day been volunteered for such a task. You found a strange solace in the task. Solace you so desperately needed as your emotions decided to play trip wire with your body. It was night by the time your team came to find you. You peeked at them around the truck. You expected questions, Soaps prying nature to take over. Instead, they found scattered items to act as seats as they cracked open a few beers. Definitely not army regulation. They didn't pry, they knew you didn't want to talk about it. It brought a warm fuzzy feeling to your belly. They were there to support you. To show you, you weren't alone.

“Need a hand?” Ghost asked as he offered you a beer. 

“Sure, grab a spanner,” you took the beer, cracking it open and sculling it. Praying to find a calm in the effects of alcohol.

“What are we fixing?” he asked, looking over the half dismantled truck.

“Not fixing, pulling apart. All of it,” you stated licking the foam from your lips. You had failed to notice Ghost gaze as it trailed over your face, your lips, and your neck and upper chest that glistened with sweat. 

“Seems simple enough,” he nodded.

“That's not wise. Ghost and vehicles don't mix,” Soap spoke up. A small smile worked its way onto your face as the other laughed. 

“Don't worry Ghost. I trust ya,” you whispered jokingly to him offering him a wink. He gave a grunt as he got to work. He was wearing a short sleeve, giving you a perfect view of his muscles that rippled under his skin with each movement. As you worked you stole glances at his tattooed sleeve. 

“See something you like love?” your eyes snapped up to his face thinking you had been caught out. Only his gaze was focused on the machine in front of him.

“Nah, just something shockingly ugly,” you joked. Again, you could swear his mask tilted into a smile.

“You just smiled,” you stated proudly.

“I don't smile,” he shut you down quickly. 

“Sure,” you nodded not believing him in the slightest.

“Is she here!?” you frowned at the demand. The yell echoing through the shed.

“Woah kid. Slow down,” Price stood to meet the soldier that had just run to them.

“Is she here?” he pressed. You stepped out from behind Ghost spotting a member from your old team. Jamie. Sweet kid. Red hair and a baby face. Good heart. When he saw you, his face crumpled, his body filled with guilt. And relief?

“So you're really alive?” he asked. The boys gave you confused glances at his statement. You became very invested in getting the grease stains off your hands. “It would seem so,” you muttered. It was silent as Jamie simply stared at you.

“What do you want Jamie?” you asked softly. Too softly. Tears started to gather in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. Your eyes snapped up at the words. 

“I'm so sorry,” he kept repeating the words as you stalked forward.

“Shut up,” you demanded.

“I- I didn't want to. I should have never done it. Im so so sorry,” the words tumbled out of his mouth in a jumbled mess.

“Get lost Jamie,” You ordered.

“Mad dog please,” he begged.

“I said get lost!” you snapped.

“Please, I know it was wrong. I just. I was scared ok. And we were given orders. I- I didn't know what to do,” he was begging at this point.

“Oh you were scared were you?” You asked sarcastically. His mouth clamped shut. You had been sacred. Terrified. That fear lived in your heart, forever embedded into your memory. And what had he done for it. Nothing. “Come on,” you tried to drag him away. Tried to hide whatever would come to light from the boys. Only Jamie stopped pulling back from your grip. 

“He said you were dead,” he whispered. Your hand snapped out gripping tightly onto his collar.

Your mind plunged you back to that fateful day. The day you were standing on hell's doorstep. Bloodied and bruised from your efforts to save your team. The day your team fled in the safety of a helicopter. The day they saw you. Each and every one of them saw you. Alive and fighting for your goddamn life all alone. The day they left you to die. Jamie knew the words he had just said were a lie. His face wouldn't have scrunched up in such an ashamed way if he didn't.

“Doc?” Price called you softly. They weren't sure what you were about to do. But they all stood at the ready.

“Let's talk about this elsewhere,” you demanded once again, going to pull him away.

“No,” he pulled back again. “I'm not leaving until you listen to me,” He stayed. Fine if he wanted to have the conversation you'd have the conversation. 

“What did you come here for Jamie? Forgiveness?” You asked softly. He was still the kid you took under your wing. He was still the boy you had fought beside. Shed blood beside.

“Forgive what? Huh?” you asked. You wanted him to answer. To admit what he had done.

“Please,” he begged. Your resolve wasn't easy to break. But Jamie always had a special place in your heart. He reminded you of your little brother. That made it all the more painful.

“Were human Jamie. We all have moments of weakness. Of cowardice,” you whispered. “I won't blame you for that. I'll forgive you for that,” you stated. You saw the slightest hope in his eyes.

“But I'll never forget,” you finished diminishing that hope.

“A moment of weakness is understandable,” you added. You released his collar fixing it. 

“How long has it been since we last met?” you asked.

“About two years,” he answered in slight confusion.

“Damn long time for a moment of weakness huh?” you asked bitterly. Shame consumed him as he cast his eyes to the ground.

“Fuck of Jamie,” you ordered softly. He walked off without a word of protest, his tail tucked between his legs.

“And Jamie,” you called after him. He turned awaiting your next words.

“He's gonna get you killed,” you said. He didn't acknowledge your words, but you could see they had wormed their way into his brain. And a little part of him knew you were right. 

You could feel the boy's eyes bore into you. Trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

Silently you walked back over to the truck, picking up your discarded wrench and getting back to work. 

“You alright love?” Price asked. The boys were shocked when you showed them your usual bright smile. They were surprised at how normal you could act, but they all knew the smile on your face wasn't accurate to what you were feeling inside. 

“I'm fine, boys,” you said.

“I'd like to be alone for a bit, if it's alright you you lot?” you suggested casually. 

“Yeah, yeah. Course,” Price nodded, gesturing for the boys to leave.

“Well be back at base if you need anything,” he added before walking off. You waited till you couldn't hear the foot falls before you dropped your head into your hand, the tears flowing from your eyes like a tap. 

God, what had you gotten yourself into. 

Your soft sobs echoed in the shed, being just loud enough for the boys to hear.

It was late when you walked into the tent. You knew the boys would have woken up with your arrival, but they stayed in their sleeping positions. You looked over them. How many times had they risked their life for you. How many times had they saved you. 

They had saved you.

Joining the 141 saved you. 

And you were damned if you were to let anything happen to them.

“Price,” you walked over to him. He opened his eyes quickly sitting up.

“Need anything love?” he asked. 

“We can't go on this mission,” you said. He frowned, glancing at the others who had all sat up.

“Whadya mean?” he asked you to elaborate.

“Adam’s a snake sir. He will fuck us over without a second thought if it means getting what he wants. We can't trust him. And we can't go on this mission. It's too dangerous,” you spoke firmly. The only betrayal to the hard font you put on being the red puffy eyes from crying.

“That's not really an option Doc,” he said.

“Then make it one,” you pressed. He pressed his lips together, sighing. You had never asked anything of him. You had trusted his every order, his every choice. “Doc, we all have history. But we are soldiers. Shit goes wrong all the time,” he was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see that whatever lovers quarrel you had with Adam meant nothing. That's what he thought it was. He would never be able to guess the severity of what had happened.

“Please Sir. I'm begging you, Please don't make us go on this mission,” they hated how frail you sounded. How broken. Price wanted at that very moment to give into you. To do as you said. But he didn't have the full story.

“If I'm gonna do this I need the full story doc,” he gave you the ultimatum. He needed proof to ditch the mission. Reasonable doubt. After all he was a soldier, a good one at that. He couldn't ditch a mission just because one of his soldiers asked him nicely.

“I,” your words got caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him everything. 

But you couldn't.

“I can't say sir,” you admitted.

“Then this conversation is done,” he spoke softly, finishing the discussion. At that moment you hated how rational he was.

“Yes sir,” you whispered, walking over to your bunk and sitting down with your back to the boys. After slipping off your boots you got into bed.

The next day everyone was ready. When the boys had woken up you were nowhere to be seen in the barracks. 

“You think she'll come?” Soap asked as he checked his weapons. To their left the bloody hells were doing final checks as well.

“Don't know,” Price muttered. A soft silence washed over the group as you walked up to them. You wore a simple desert mask that covered the bottom half on you face your eyes blank of emotions. The boys took notice of the guilty bewildered looks the other team gave you. “Well good morning beautiful,” Adam smiled brightly. You paused looking over his face. You had made many memories with the man in front of you. Many sweet and beautiful. But they were all bitter now. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out an old patch. The bloody hells written in red upon it. The edge was stained with blood, the other side burnt slightly. 

“Thought it was time I gave this back,” you muttered holding it out to him. He refused to take it.

“Once a member of the bloody hells always a member,” he said. You huffed.

“Nah mate,” you shock your head, throwing it to his feet.

“Lets get it done,” you said, knocking knuckles with Jonny before getting into the back of the truck.

The mission was a simple one. Get in, clear the base. Collect data and dispose of the weapons. It was going well. You were with your boys. That was until you weren't.

“Tims been hit. Our medics down. We need you MadDog,” you ears rung at the comms. You were currently in a hallway. Price turned back to you.

“This is Doc, what is your position, over?” you asked into the comm.

“West side, next to the green building,” he responded.

“That's the cleared area,” you muttered.

“Take Ghost with you,” Price ordered.

“No, you've still got enemies to face. It's a cleared area, I'll be fine,” you said. You were right and he knew it. He also knew you could handle yourself.

“Look after each other ok,” you ordered before taking off in the direction you had come from.

================================================

--COD Master List Here--

================================================

[changbunnies]

Scent Of You, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin

♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, vague allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, dubcon

♡ Word Count: 7.8k (oops)

♡ Summary: In which a sweet, naive bunny hybrid nicknamed 'little red' becomes lost in the forest at night, and finds herself face to face with the big, bad wolves her grandmother always warned her about.

♡ Warnings: uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration before it devolves into smut, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There lol

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): dubcon (but the smut itself isn't very rough), pet names (though mostly as a title- such as bunny, little red, and sweetheart), the word slut is used a few times, gendered language such as "dirty girl", a lot of kissing, size difference, size kink (i'm sorry if you're tall just pretend ur small and they're huge because ur a rabbit and they're a wolf fsdgsdf), oral (m + f rec), some manhandling, some banter and mild rivalry between bin and chan, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms and multiple creampies

♡ Notes: so i intended to take a small break from writing after finishing crave but inspo struck me as i was trying to fall asleep and i NEEDED to write it so i literally shot up and wrote all of this in one sitting in a cold sweat fsdgdsf so here we are, one last surprise upload before my break <3 it's easily the most self indulgent fic i've written to date dfdgh bunny is my fave petname and this is basically just my excuse to be called bunny in a wolf binchan sandwich lmao this is not as proofread as my other stuff given how quickly i wrote it, and it's my first time writing a threesome, but i hope you enjoy! edit: there is now a sequel you can read here !

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

"Please, take care sweetheart. Don't stay out too long," your grandmother warns with a tender kiss to your forehead as you prepare to head out for the day, pulling the hood of your long, red cape up over your head, tucking in your hair and covering your lopped ears. "I know, grandmother, I know! I'll be back before you know it, I promise," you assure her with a smile, hooking your twine basket into your arm, empty and ready to be filled with treats of the forest.

Your grandmother heaves a soft sigh, as she falls back against the bed, and you give her hand a reassuring squeeze and a soft goodbye before you make your way out of your quaint cottage, a long line of intimidating, tall standing trees before you. Grandmother always worries for your safety, as the woods aren't entirely safe for a rabbit like yourself, but so long as the sun hangs bright in the sky, you'd be perfectly fine.

As grandmother has warned you countless times, it's only at night that the woods near your home become truly dangerous, as all manner of nocturnal predators leave their dens in search of their next meal. For a rabbit such as yourself, lingering in the woods at night is assuredly a death sentence; your diminutive stature and weak limbs would cause you to easily fall victim to the beasts that stalk through the forest with the moon's aid. 

The only thing on your side would be your speed, but even then it's no guarantee of safety once a predator has you in their sights; and so your grandmother always instilled a proper fear of the dark within you, in the hope that you'd never find yourself in a situation in which you'd have to flee in the first place. Entering the forest brings with it countless anxieties for your species, but it's not like you can simply not go- the gifts of nature are what sustains you, and you have to enter the woods, even live near them, if you want to have food in your tummy and herbal medicines on your shelves. 

As such, you are always very conscious of the amount of time you spend in the forest, only ever entering when the sun is brightly illuminating your surroundings, always careful and alert as you gather what you need. You observe the sun's position in the sky, use it to determine how much time you have left before it begins to set, always heading back well before it starts to sink behind the trees. And you'd never stay longer than necessary, especially not when you have grandmother waiting at home praying for your safe return!

But well.. grandmother is quite ill these days, and you spent more time than you usually would gathering the berries and leaves you’ll need to make her sweet, healing brews of tea. Soon enough, winter's chill would cause all the greenery to frost and wither, and you wanted to stock up now to ensure you had enough to last 'til the end of the season. It was for grandmother's health! Surely she'd understand and forgive you if you stayed out just a little longer than usual. 

But as dusk started to settle over the trees, and you realized how precious few moments of sunlight you had left to make it home with, panic began to accumulate in the pit of your stomach. You tried your best to take deep breaths, to not allow your heart to race- as long as you remained calm, you could get back before dark, you were sure of it. 

The more the sun sank however, the more you lost your clarity; you found yourself stumbling in circles, the encroaching dark causing the forest to become unrecognizable, leading you blindly in circles. You'd long since lost sight of the path you always followed home, and the moon and stars, which were normally such a beautiful sight, now came with a sense of foreboding. It was dark, you were lost, and grandmother was now all alone, probably worrying herself half to death wondering where you could be and if you're even still alive. 

You continue blindly weaving your way through the trees, just praying that you're moving in the direction of home; you can't afford to hide away and wait until morning, not when a beast could be around any corner. Using your speed to your advantage, you dart past a near endless sea of trees, praying, praying, and praying the clearing will come into view and you’ll see your cottage in the middle, with orange light from the fire peeking through the windows and smoke billowing from the chimney. 

Suddenly you stop, entire body freezing as your hair stands on end, nose twitching as an unfamiliar scent fills your nostrils; someone is near- someone that you should avoid at all costs. It’s so heavy, overwhelming beyond comprehension- the scent of the forest itself is still identifiable, but mixed now with something akin to leather, black coffee, and hot iron. The scent is actually quite pleasant, so that's not what causes you to freeze; it’s the unfamiliarity that is the true root of the problem, evoking a deep rooted, innate fear response. 

You know all the “safe” smells- that of other prey animals such as yourself, for instance, are recognizable, comforting, and bring about a sense of calm. To be met with the unfamiliar is to be met with danger; it means that whatever is near is something you’ve never encountered during your safe treks through the forest, it means that a predator likely has you in their sights, because as grandmother has told you, if you smell them it’s already too late- they’ve found you. 

“Now, now, what do we have here?” A deep voice calls, hidden from your sight. Your heart erupts in an erratic rhythm, a chill running down your spine as your eyes desperately search the darkness for the source of the voice. And there, you finally see it- or rather, him. A man, standing much, much taller and bulkier than you, sharp fangs exposed with his smile, fangs that you are sure will be used to rip you apart. 

You see pointed ears and dusky blue-silver fur, a long tail that swishes with intrigue and delight, a fur coat with the arms cut off, an exposed chest laden with scars both fresh and faded. He’s a wolf, you realize with dread, the thing you were taught to fear most of all. You unconsciously take a step back as he approaches, the moonlight illuminating him in a way that evokes both fear and reverence; as beautiful as he is dangerous. “What’s a little thing like you doing in the forest at night, hmm? Don’t you know it isn’t safe, little red?” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile, referencing the caped hood you’re wearing, a gift from your grandmother meant to keep you safe from men like him.  

You clutch your basket tighter as your legs begin to tremble, lowering your head and pulling your hood down further, trying your best to ensure your ears and other features are completely covered. He probably knows by smell alone you’re a prey animal, but you vainly hope he’ll let you go if he doesn’t realize you’re a rabbit- a stupid hope, but it’s the only one you have. “Poor thing, don’t be scared. You got lost, didn’t you, little red?” With each step towards you he takes, you take another step back, until your back meets that of a thick tree, the erratic rhythm of your heart building to a speed you thought otherwise impossible. 

“Tell me- where did you come from?” The wolf asks with an intimidating smile full of fang, “I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it I’ve smelled you before..?” With nowhere to go, caged against the tree as the wolf closes in, all you can do is tremble as you watch him sniff the air, licking his lips as if tasting your scent. Most prey animals are generally the same, but there’s only one place he’s gotten the scent of sugar and cream from.. 

“Ah, I know,” he says suddenly, smile growing wider as he speaks, “That little cottage in the clearing- that’s it, isn’t it? That’s your home?” You swallow as you timidly nod, your nerves much too frayed to attempt to lie- you’ve never been a good liar anyways, your grandmother having raised you to be honest and good. “You’re quite far from home, little red. But I can help you,” he offers, but you know better than to trust a wolf- they’re liars, all of them. 

“N-No, I.. I can get there by myself,” you say, finally finding your voice (shaky and timid though it may be.) The man hums, seemingly amused by your brave display; he knows how scared you are, can quite literally taste it, but he has to commend you for trying, at least. “I’m not sure that’s true. Do you know which way home is?” 

“W-Well, uhm, I.. I- I, I don’t-” you stutter and fumble, and he chuckles, a smug look of “thought-so” clear on his face as he grins at you. His hand finds your cheek, and you look up at him with glassy, teary eyes, heart thumping out of control as he strokes your skin with his thumb. He smiles sweetly, almost boyishly- a look that would be endearing if he wasn’t a wolf, and you weren’t afraid for your life. 

His clawed hand travels from your cheek to the top of your hood, and you quickly reach your hands up to clutch the fabric, keeping it fully tugged down in a vain attempt to continue to hide your identity. The wolf laughs, clearly amused at your reaction. “Come now, little red, show me what sort of ears you’re hiding under there,” he coos and you shake your head, eyes squeezing shut and knuckles turning white as you desperately cling to your hood. 

At this point it probably no longer matters what you are exactly- no matter the answer, it’s clear the wolf before your eyes has plans for you that won’t go unfulfilled. But still, your survival instincts are in overdrive, and you can’t help but try your best to protect yourself, even if the endeavor proves to be worthless. He tugs at your hood, not yet trying to fully pull it off, but rather playing with you- he could easily pull it off in one quick swipe, his claws could tear the fabric to ribbons, but he chooses to instead have his fun, watch you panic and struggle with the hood in your tiny hands. 

You look at him, unfallen tears blurring your vision; you don’t know what else to do. Grandmother always said if you found yourself cornered by wolves, your only option would be to run and pray for the best, but is that really the best you can do? And while you’re fast, wolves are faster- you’re sure the man would be able to catch up with you easily, especially given that the moon is his ally and he is likely extremely familiar with the deep woods.

Further still, he clearly stated he knows your home; even if you escape, he knows exactly where to go to find you. It fills you with dread, knowing that even if you do make it home, your grandmother would be there too; and you’d never forgive yourself if something bad happened to her because of you. It’s an impossible choice you are being dealt- surrender to your fate now, or try your best to flee and risk dragging your precious grandmother down with you. 

But as he finally tugs down your hood, your white, snow-like lopped ears are fully exposed, and the wolf’s fangs shine as he gleefully smiles, you find yourself unconsciously making a choice- you run, as fast as your legs will carry you. The cape gets caught and snags on stray branches from the myriad trees, tearing as you continue to run, adrenaline coursing through your veins, chest aching from the erratic, forcefully thumping of your heart, breath coming out quick and harsh. 

You barely make it 10 feet ahead through the trees before you’re crashing into something, the sudden impact causing you to let out an involuntary shout as you stumble back and fall ungracefully on your backside. Looking up, tears fall from your eyes when you realize it’s another wolf- shorter than the one who’d cornered you previously, but bulkier, with fur as dark as obsidian and a scent that matches it. You suspect that he was there the entire time, and you just didn’t notice due to the panicked focus you held on getting away from the blue-silver wolf. 

“Where do you think you're going, little red?” the new wolf speaks, affirming your fears; he was there for the entire exchange, witness to the moniker you’d been given and now using it for himself. “Oh Changbin, you caught her,” you hear the previous wolf say from somewhere behind you, leaves and twigs snapping beneath his feet as he approaches your spot on the ground. “Course,” the dark wolf evidently named Changbin speaks, kneeling down to look directly in your teary eyes, “I’d never let such a sweet little thing get away from us.” 

He reaches to the side of your body, where your twine basket has fallen from your arms and spilled its contents, all the berries and leaves you gathered now decorating the dirt. “Hmm, most of these are herbal. What a sweet granddaughter you are, gathering until late into the night! Your grandmother must be proud of you, hmm?” Changbin smiles, looking up to the previous wolf once he stands again, your basket in his hands, “Don’t you think so, Chan-hyung?” 

The blue-silver wolf, that the dark wolf calls Chan, hums in agreement, once again calling you a “sweet thing.” Chan offers you a hand to help you stand, and you hesitate, swallowing as your eyes dart nervously between them. Their eyes on you make you nervous beyond just the predator-prey relationship you share; they’re both so impossibly ethereal in the light of the moon, and it makes you wonder if all wolves are such divine creatures. 

Maybe that’s why the rest of the forest view them reverently; beautiful, powerful, utterly intimidating in all aspects- they offer no choice from a rabbit such as yourself but submission simply from presence alone. “What’s your name, little red?” is Chan’s next question, and again, you find yourself unable to lie; against your own sense of self-preservation, you tell him your name. And he hums, repeating your name as if testing the way it falls from his tongue before diverting back to his nickname for you. 

“Let’s make a deal, little red,” the wolf says, still holding out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You finally do so cautiously, letting Chan help you to your feet, your legs still trembling but not yet buckling in the face of fear. “W-What kind of deal?” you ask hesitantly, looking between the two wolves who smile and lick their lips, tongues ghosting over their fangs as they do. Beautiful, powerful, intimidating, your mind repeats.

“We want to play with you,” Chan says smoothly, the answer coming natural to him, “play with us for a little while, and then we’ll take you home. We promise.” You look at the other, younger wolf who nods, backing the sentiment of his superior. Here you are, confronted in the deepest reaches of the forest by two wolves, and instead of devouring you they just want to “play”..? What does playing entail with them? 

You’re not sure how much you truly want to know, but the promise of home dangling in front of you makes you consider their offer despite how foolish it may be. “You’re not.. tricking me, are you?” you ask, voice small, full of naivety and hope. “Of course not, sweetheart, we would never,” Changbin affirms, even going so far as to pick up the spilled contents of your basket and nestle them carefully back inside- a promise that by the time you’re done “playing”, you’ll be reunited with your sickly grandmother and able to care for her again.

“You just smell so sweet,” Chan says, his clawed fingers once again tracing over your cheek, “and we’ve always wanted to play with a sweet little bunny like you.” You nervously exhale the breath you unconsciously held when his hand traced your skin, searching his eyes for any sort of deceit. If you’re being honest, you’re not entirely confident in your ability to tell if the wolves are lying to you- they’re masters of manipulation, after all; lying is second nature to them. 

Still, you want to trust them- trust that after you play with them for a little while, they’ll keep their promise of taking you home with your basket in your arms and everything you need to get through the winter. “If you really promise, then.. I’ll play with you,” you answer, and the wolves both smile eagerly, with the elder wolf taking you in his arms, swiftly lifting you up off your feet. You squeak in surprise, instinctively clutching tightly to his fur coat, scared of being dropped. 

“Let’s go have some fun then,” Chan grins at you, making sure his hold on you is secure before he starts to move, “but not here. The floor here’s too dirty for you, isn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question in which he expects no answer; instead he starts winding through the trees quickly, a destination clearly in mind. You vaguely see the other wolf trailing behind before you squeeze your eyes shut, the blur of trees and wind whipping through your hair and past your ears making you dizzy as you’re carried further and further into the forest, likely towards its center. 

It takes you a few moments to open your eyes once you’ve realized you’re no longer moving at high speeds; Chan, who still has you in his arms, is now walking at a leisurely place through what you assume is his den. The smell of other wolves is distinct but distant- evidently, the three of you are the only ones home for the night. It makes you breathe a small sigh of relief to know the rest of his pack is absent, attending to their own matters. It makes you feel safer, somehow; as if you’re not literally inside a wolf's den, at the mercy of whatever it is the two before you want with you. 

Eventually you are carried into a bedroom- one that smells more of Chan than the other wolf, which leads you to believe this is his room specifically. Changbin doesn’t seem to mind that the “playing” will take place here, a smile still clear on his face as he shuts the door behind himself, locking the door behind him as Chan sets you on his rather large bed. 

Your ears lie flat against your head, your nerves eating away at you as you fiddle with your hands. You watch them both carefully, taking note of where Changbin sets down your basket before he meets you and Chan at the bed. The two of them standing over you makes you feel impossibly small, affirms how much better they are than you in every evolutionary aspect; speed, strength, size- they have it all. And you, one measly little rabbit with no significant qualities in comparison to them, who has no choice but to put her life in their hands if she wants to survive. How unfair. 

“Tell me, little red,” Chan starts as he sits next to you on his bed, one large hand enough to cup your entire face and direct your complete attention towards him, “are bunnies as slutty as they say?” Your eyes widen as you gulp in shock, having not expected such a forward, explicit question. “Yeah, I’m curious,” Changbin follows up, sitting firmly on your other side, caging you in between the both of them, “they don’t say ‘fucking like rabbits’ for no reason, right? So what are you? A slut?” 

“I-I’m not!” you sputter out; it’s true that rabbits have a reputation for promiscuity but you live a rather sheltered life with your grandmother- you hardly even know other rabbits your age, much less male rabbits. That being said, you have been a little.. let's say intense during your heats- but you rode those out with toys, not with the help of men. And you don’t think there’s any shame in promiscuity, but that’s simply not the life you lead; you live modestly, simply taking care of your grandmother to the best of your ability. You barely even have time to masturbate these days- fucking is entirely out of the realm of possibility, as busy as you are. 

“But you’ve taken cock before?” Changbin asks from behind you rather shamelessly, and Chan looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer with a cocked brow. “W-Well, yes, but-” you start and Chan is smiling again, another happy hum leaving his lips. ..Does your virginity status really matter here..? Your eyes widen again when the reality of what you’ve agreed to clicks, and Chan chuckles at your delayed reaction. “You’re not very smart, are you, bunny? But that’s okay- you don’t need to be smart to have fun, isn’t that right?”

Changbin is the next to speak, his hot breath coming out against your ear, his hands tracing your hips, “Mhm, sweet, dumb bunnies are cute, don’t you think? I bet they have lots of fun,” It’s vaguely condescending, how they speak of you- sweet and dumb, as if your intelligence pales next to theirs, as if you are an object designed for their pleasure and no other. And somehow, it adds to the tremble in your legs, your breath hitching when Chan squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb, forcing your mouth to open. 

You overtly whine, the wolf’s obscenely long tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring with another eager hum, his fangs catching on your lip with each kiss. As he kisses you, his fingers tug at the knot of your caped hood, leaving the task of discarding it to the other wolf once the knot is undone. Goosebumps once again rise on your skin, with Changbin kissing and licking your neck after your cape has been tossed aside, deeply inhaling your scent as Chan continues to abuse your lips with his tongue and teeth. 

“Chan-hyung wasn’t kidding when he said you smell so sweet,” he whispers against your skin as he continues to trail his kisses down towards your shoulder, “it’s intoxicating.” It’s shameless and almost embarrassing, the way arousal pools in your underwear despite all preconceived notions of how a rabbit should behave in the face of a predatory animal; but the more they kiss and lick, the more fear ebbs away, and becomes replaced by pleasure and yearning. It’s been so long since you last felt the touch of someone else, having been stricken to solitary heats since becoming your grandmother’s carer. It almost humiliates you to admit how good their touch feels on your burning skin. 

They can quite literally feel your body release its tension, Changbin’s strong arms being the ones to hold you up as you melt, and the smell of your leaking arousal obviously doesn’t go undetected by either of their noses. Chan pulls away from your lips, a smirk visible on his features when you open your eyes to look at him. “What a dirty girl you are, excited already,” he says, another whine escaping you not only from his words, but from the feeling of Changbin’s teeth grazing your neck.

Chan, who could quite easily rip your dress from your body, instead opts to tug the fabric away much more carefully than you’d have anticipated- perhaps they really mean to return you home after this? Changbin, whose torso was substantially more covered than his elder’s, removes his top, leaving you to feel his bare, muscular chest against your now exposed back. He wastes no time in latching back to your neck, licking, sucking, teeth grazing the skin, but not biting down- whether to spare you the shame of returning home with the clear mark of a predator, or because he doesn’t have permission from lead of the pack however, is unclear.

Your breasts, which you’ve always considered quite full, despite your diminutive frame, easily fit within Chan’s large palms. Their ability to not only make you feel, but look small leaves you dizzy. You should be afraid of how they eclipse your frame with their size, but instead you find it exciting, your brain unraveling everything you’ve been taught about self-preservation in favor of experiencing utmost pleasure from two hulking wolves. 

Shame, it seems, has entirely left you, as slick leaks from you easily, drenching your underwear with each touch from their rough hands. Chan’s fingers play with your sensitive nipples, pulling and tugging until you’re writhing against Changbin’s body, who has his own hands tracing your hips and thighs, pressing lingering kisses to any patch of skin he can reach. Chan lowers himself to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as his hand continues to play with the other. 

Meanwhile, Changbin’s hand slinks around, brushing over your stomach before his hand dips between your legs, rubbing your heat over your soaked underwear. “Fuck, this messy for us already? You have to feel her, hyung, touch her pussy,” Changbin speaking such filthy words right next to your ear makes you shudder, a whimper leaving from deep in your throat when Chan obliges, his hand quick to replace the younger wolf’s. Instead of touching you over your clothes however, he opts to completely tear them from your body, in stark contrast to how he treated your dress- you suppose the underwear is less important to remain intact, or maybe he just can’t help it after having gotten this far? 

“Oh, look at that Binnie, you’re right,” Chan grins as his fingers rub along your folds, spreading the slick around to create even more of a mess between your legs, “You’re such a dirty bunny underneath, hmm?” Your face burns red, another whine escaping as shame finally returns to you, your hands reaching to cover your face. The pair of them coo, finding the display cute, whilst simultaneously making their cocks throb- what a treat, to have found a bunny that is both incredibly sweet and effortlessly sexy all at once. 

Chan pushes Changbin’s hands away from your body, and quickly turns you around. Your back is now against Chan, and he hooks your legs over his knees, spreading you open for the younger wolf to see. “Let’s give Binnie a look at your dripping pussy, don’t you think he deserves it after being so sweet to you?” More slick dribbles its way out of you, soaking the mattress beneath, a treat for Changbin’s eager eyes. 

Peeking between your fingers, you see his dark tail swishing behind him in delight, very clearly excited by the sight he’s met with. “Can I taste her, hyung? I want to so bad,” he asks, licking his lips, his eager, sparkling eyes not leaving you for even a second. “Mm, what do you think, little red? Should we let him have a taste?” Chan asks, and though you can’t see him anymore, you can practically hear the smile in his voice- playful and fun. 

You nod quickly, though Chan doesn’t seem content with that response- he tsks, once again grabbing your face and twisting your neck to look at him. “You gotta use your words, sweetheart, you understand?” You start to nod again, but then quickly follow up with a small “yes”, to which the wolf smiles, and diverts your gaze back to Changbin, forcing you to hold the darker wolf’s gaze. “Good bunny, go ahead and tell him, then. Tell him you want him to eat you.” 

He can feel your face burn beneath his fingers, and though you can’t see it you’re sure there’s a smug smile gracing his perfect face as he waits for you to properly address Changbin. “I-I.. I want you to eat me, please,” you force yourself to mumble out, not missing the way Changbin’s cock throbs in his torn shorts. With one last lick of his lips, he’s diving between your thighs, looking up at you with a grin, “I’ll devour you, sweetheart.” 

You gasp when his tongue licks between your folds, a loud moan unintentionally falling from your lips as he eagerly laps away at you. You can’t help but squirm in Chan’s hold, his legs continuing to hold yours open and preventing them from closing around Changbin’s head. Changbin moans as he licks and sucks on your clit, as if the act is more pleasurable for him than you; and eventually he alternates between giving his undivided attention to your clit, to sliding his tongue as deep into your hole as it’ll go, letting his nose bump your clit instead. 

Chan’s erection digs into your back, sometimes groaning when your squirming and twitching causes friction; but he’s not content to just sit behind you and watch- he wants to add to the fun. So his hands come up to the soft base of your ears, expecting it to be as erogenous of a zone for you as it is for them- and by your reaction, he can tell it is. Your head falls back against him, and he can just catch a glimpse of your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, mouth hanging open as more moans and desperate whimpers leave you. 

“You getting close, sweet bunny? You wanna cum?” Chan asks, grinning when you once again quickly nod your head, a near endless stream of whimpery moans leaving you as your high approaches. “Answer properly,” he reminds you, though his tone isn’t as strict as before- it’s almost playful, amused; he’s having fun. “W-Wanna cum, please, please let- hah- please let me cum,” you beg between harsh breaths, your entire body feeling like a wire on the verge of snapping.

“You heard her Bin, make her cum,” you hear Chan say as he becomes harsher with your ears, his calloused fingers now rubbing in rough circles. Your entire body jolts and convulses as the wire finally snaps, cry after cry of white pleasure spilling from your lips as you release on Changbin’s waiting tongue. He hums as he licks up all you offer him, not separating himself from his spot between your legs until he’s sure he’s got it all and you’re shuddering from the overstimulation. 

Changbin takes your face in his hands, pulling you just slightly away from Chan as he drags you into a kiss, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth. Your taste is all over his tongue, his mouth stealing away all the breath you’ve just barely managed to breathe into your lungs after the intensity of your orgasm. Your eyes are hazy when he pulls away, fogged over by lust and needs for the wolves you are sandwiched between. 

You just barely register Changbin looking past you to Chan, as if asking what to do next; though the exchange is silent, it seems like Changbin knows exactly where to go from here after receiving a certain look- have they done this before, you wonder? Changbin scoots back just a bit before grabbing your legs, unhooking them from Chan’s knees before he’s pulling you down, closer to him. You gasp, your head falling straight onto Chan’s lap- well, more accurately, to one of his thighs, before he’s closing his legs to act as a pillow for you. 

His cock, though still obscured by the fabric of his shorts, is right next to your face and impressive in its size, just as Changbin’s is. The two of them, in almost practiced unison, pull down their shorts, though the task is harder for Chan, who has your head resting on his lap. He still manages well enough, and you’re met with the sight of his hard, leaking cock right in front of your eyes, almost close enough to touch your cheek. 

You look up at Chan, who looks down to meet your gaze with a grin. “Hope you’re ready, bunny,” is all the warning you get before you’re flipped around to your front, another squeak of surprise as you’re manhandled to your knees, bent to where Changbin wants you, with your face still squarely in Chan’s lap. One of Chan’s hands holds his cock at the base while the other reaches under your chin, lifting your face up to look directly at him. “Show me what you can do while you’re taking cock,” he instructs, your body trembling as you feel Changbin’s cock rub between your folds, slicking himself up. 

You whine when his cock presses against your hole, Changbin’s hands holding your hips up while Chan’s guide you to take his leaking cock into your mouth. You never imagined you’d be in a scenario where you’re taking in the cocks of two wolves at once, but you welcome the challenge. Changbin enters you first, the stretch the most intense you’ve ever taken- you can’t help but gasp, the sting pricking up every inch of your body. Chan, thankfully, doesn’t force you to take him entirely into your mouth in this state- he lets you instead kiss and lick the tip, recognizing your need to adjust to a size you’re entirely unused to taking. 

They both praise you, though Changbin’s voice is significantly more strained and breathy as he continues his slow push inside your tight heat. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs for support, and he doesn’t scold you for taking pauses in giving him attention, instead just watching as you squeeze your eyes shut and do your best to control your heavy breathing. “Big stretch, isn’t it bun?” Chan ends up asking, which causes you to nod with teary eyes. “‘s so big,” you exhale, and Changbin whines from behind you- you wonder if he likes hearing how big he is?

You can also hear the loud swishing of his tail, almost like a whip with how quick it snaps from side to side; it’s an undeniable truth that Changbin has been very, very excited to play with you the entire night. Changbin hisses once he’s fully aside, while Chan takes this time to rub your back in a soothing gesture you wouldn’t typically expect from a wolf. You look up at him, eyes full of equal parts gratitude and lust, and he simply smiles, hunching his back down to meet your lips in a kiss. 

“Not fair, I wanna kiss her too-” Changbin protests from behind you and Chan scoffs when he pulls away from your lips. “Your dick is literally inside her Bin, shut the fuck up,” he says and to your surprise, you giggle- Changbin is kind of cute, isn’t he? At least, in a weird, wolf sort of way. “Are you laughing at me?” he asks, and you can almost hear the playful sort of pout in his voice. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean to,” you mumble, hoping you didn’t offend him. 

You take a cautious peek at him from over your shoulder, relieved to find that he’s actually smiling once he stops his dramatic pouting. Cute, you think again, but he doesn’t let you feel that way for long. He pulls out to the tip and presses back inside in one, swift motion, causing a moan to erupt from you as your nails once again dig into Chan’s skin. “Won’t be laughing by the time I’m done with you, bunny,” Changbin says as he repeats the motion, and it takes everything in you to not utterly collapse onto Chan’s lap. 

He hits your spot every time, and you swear you can feel it all the way in your stomach- but Chan doesn’t let you stay idle in your pleasure for very long. “C’mon, sweet bunny, you know what to do,” he says, his hand under your chin directing you back to his own neglected length. Unable to control yourself much after Changbin starts picking up his pace, you simply open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing Chan to enter your mouth however much he wishes to, completely handing your control to him. 

Changbin’s thrusts cause you to take more of Chan into your mouth than you’d initially take all at once, and it causes Chan to curse, his cock hitting the back of your throat within seconds of entering your mouth. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to well with tears, and then for those tears to cascade down your cheeks, trying your best not to choke and gag as Changbin, voluntarily or otherwise, forces you to take more and more of Chan’s cock down your throat. 

You can hardly even breathe between the pleasure of Changbin drilling you from behind and Chan’s cock obstructing your primary airway, but it makes you dizzy in the best way possible. You feel floaty, every cell in your body knowing nothing but intense pleasure. Chan strokes your head, sometimes petting your ears for that extra burst of pleasure that makes you clench tighter and causes Changbin to curse from behind you each and every time. 

Changbin, who is observing the way his cock looks sliding in and out of your tiny hole, gets a flash of inspiration when he looks at your cute, fluffy cottontail. Experimentally, he takes it into his hands, rubbing your tail between his fingers, and you keen, a shiver traveling throughout your entire body. “Oh, you like that?” he asks, a bit smug as he continues to rub and gently tug at your tail, a loud whine escaping you that is muffled only by the cock lodged in your mouth. 

Chan can see your eyes rolling back, and decides to double the pleasure, not letting his hands leave your ears for even a second. Your noises tumble freely now, quick and constant, rising in volume despite how muffled they are. It’s overwhelming being played with like this, but it feels so fucking good you’d never think to complain- you may become addicted to this sensation when it’s all said and done.

You’re so wet and warm, and now squeezing impossibly tight- Changbin isn’t going to last, and you can feel him throbbing and twitching as his pace begins to stutter. “Shit- fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines, letting go of your hip with his other hand to reach under you and find your clit with his fingers. “Cum with me, pretty bunny, c’mon, I know you’re close too,” he says, quickly rubbing your clit between two of his fingers. 

Chan guides your head off of him, letting you suck in the breath you desperately need before he’s lifting you up just enough to meet his lips, capturing your moans with his mouth. You cum again with a succession of loud whimpers, your hands squeezing at Chan’s body desperately. “Oh my god, yes, ‘m cumming, c-cumming-” Changbin gasps, his cum shooting inside you in quick spurts, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he groans. 

Chan lets you fall back to his lap, breathless and almost entirely spent, with Changbin breathing heavily behind you. He pulls out when he finally starts to soften, and you glance behind you the best you can to see him pouting at his elder again. “You did that to make me jealous!” he accuses Chan in reference to kissing you, and the other wolf simply shrugs with a smirk. “I can kiss you too, Binnie,” you mumble, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. 

He whines again, and you realize it’s the first time you’re actually using one of their names. “You should’ve said my name while cumming, bunny,” he grunts as he scoops you up, pulling you back to his chest. “I don’t think she could’ve-” Chan starts to interject, laughing when Changbin glares at him, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss. 

They’re not actually fighting over you, but you find the dynamic fun- maybe that’s why they like to share; and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this desired before. Changbin’s tail is swishing again as he kisses you, and you giggle when you hear it- he’s like a puppy, you think; eager, and easily excitable, with a hint of jealousy that makes him fun to tease. When he pulls away, he looks at Chan and then back at you, “Can you handle one more, sweetheart? Channie-hyung still needs a turn with you.” 

“I can take it, I’m a good bunny,” you affirm and they both grin, Chan reaching out to you and pulling you away from Changbin’s arms, into his own. “Such a good girl,” he hums as he lays you down on the mattress, taking his place between your legs while Changbin lays down next to you, rubbing his hand over your soft tummy. Changbin’s cum is leaking steadily out of you, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind the mess it’s making on his mattress- you've made your own mess of his bed too, after all. 

Chan instead uses his fingers to gather up what has leaked and spread it over his own length, using it as lubrication for his own push inside of you. Changbin presses kisses to your heated cheeks, licking away the tears that fall as Chan starts to push his cock inside you. Chan, who has been entirely composed up to this point, finally breaks just a bit- enough for his breath to start coming out harsher as you feel him twitch and throb inside you. 

His tail doesn’t swish as fast and erratically as Changbin’s but it is nonetheless moving happily side to side, a clear indicator that you’re actually affecting him and he’s not all confidence and smug charisma. “Can I play with you while Channie-hyung fucks you, bunny?” Changbin asks, his hand creeping up to your chest, smiling when you quickly nod at him. 

Chan should scold you for not answering properly, but he’s focusing on his own pleasure now- taking your legs into his hands and holding them open while he fucks in and out of you. Changbin plays with your nipples, his hand taking turns between them while the other is used to keep himself propped up to watch. “You’re making him feel good, can you tell?” he asks, and you look at Chan, who has sweat trailing down his brow and his plump bottom lip sucked between his teeth, face scrunched in pleasure. 

It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you turn back to Changbin, a small pout on your lips. “I-I wish I-” a deep breathy moan interrupts your dialogue as Chan hits your spot, but you continue, “I wish I could’ve s-seen you too.” You bet he looked absolutely divine, just as Chan does. Changbin groans, your sentiment evidently having an affect on him. “God, you’re the fucking sweetest, bunny,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss you some more, his tongue once again shoving it’s way into your mouth. You tangle your fingers in Changbin’s curly hair as he kisses you, and he hisses when you unintentionally tug during a particularly harsh thrust from Chan. 

Changbin simply watches your face in awe for a moment when you pull away to breathe and let yourself fall back against the mattress, finding you incredibly cute, beautiful even, even with your hair a mess and drenched in sweat. “B-Binnie, Channie, think ‘m gonna cum again-” you whine, eyes rolling back once more when it causes Chan’s thrusts to become harsher. “Yeah? Gonna cum again, slutty bunny?” Changbin smiles, egging you on with his voice. 

You nod quickly, pleas starting to fall from your lips effortlessly, “I-I can, right? Been a good girl, a good bunny? Good bunnies can cum?” They both smile, endless encouragement leaving them such as “yes pretty, go ahead and cum for us,” and “good bunny, good girl, cum sweetheat.” Changbin pulls you back to his lips as you cum, wanting to kiss you as you cum since he missed the chance earlier, and he eagerly swallows your noises, his fingers finding your clit once more to drag out your orgasm. 

Chan as well starts to become louder, his grunts becoming more successive with each thrust, not losing speed even as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He grabs your face and tears you away from Changbin, kissing you in a display that is either meant to make Changbin jealous again, or is simply for his own pleasure. Or maybe it serves both purposes at once, because as Changbin whines in protest, you can feel Chan smirk against your lips before he’s losing himself again, his groans muffled against you as his hips stutter once, twice more before he’s spilling inside you, ropes and ropes of cum filling you to the brim. 

You reach out to Changbin’s hand, squeezing it in a gesture that is meant to stop his jealousy, and he smiles at you, calling you a “sweet little thing” once more, giving you a peck to your forehead. Your eyes close, not opening even as Chan softens and slips out of you, exhaustion having clearly seeped into every molecule of your body. “Poor thing’s tired,” you vaguely hear Changbin say as he wipes the sweat off your brow. Chan responds, though it’s hard to make out what he says as you unconsciously slip into sleep, unable to prevent it with how heavy your entire body has become, rest quickly claiming you. 

The sound of birds loudly chirping wakes you, and you blink slowly awake, eyes straining as you realize you’re in the sunlight. You sit up quickly, looking down at yourself and then your surroundings; you’re out of the forest proper, in the clearing where your home sits quaintly in the middle, and dressed back in your prior clothing and with your hood over your ears- barring the underwear you lost. 

You’d think last night was a dream if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel yourself bare underneath your dress; so they really upheld their promise and brought you back home..? You see your basket, sitting neatly in arm’s reach, a small note resting atop the berries and leaves you gathered yesterday that simply reads, “Last night was fun, wasn’t it, little red? Come play with us again sometime,” with a cutely drawn heart at the end, signed ‘Binnie and Channie.’

[munariplans]

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready. 

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat. 

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years. 

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her. 

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either. 

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things. 

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so. 

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless. 

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did. 

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself. 

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast. 

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity. 

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming. 

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team. 

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well. 

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons. 

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers. 

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day. 

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time. 

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station. 

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee. 

oh. this was what your days-off were for. 

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station. 

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much. 

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it. 

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly. 

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret. 

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.” 

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later. 

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well. 

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically. 

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic. 

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave. 

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you. 

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.” 

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now. 

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh. 

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off. 

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout. 

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her. 

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned. 

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else. 

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time. 

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.” 

“yes ma’am.”