#SLOWLY ANSWERING ALL INBOX QUESTIONS HOLD ON!!

[urdadsceilingfan]

Could you imagine Canon Ford having a conversation with Reverse Portal Stan and Ford. I’d imagine it’d go somewhere like this.

(C!=Canon ) (RP!=Reverse Portal)

C!Ford: so, you two are from an alternate universe where, if Stan had fallen into the portal instead of me?

RP!Stan: yup, basically

C!Ford: but you two seem so close, as if it had never happened

RP!Ford: well yeah, that’s because we’ve worked on repairing our relationship, though admittedly it was just Stan doing most of it in the beginning. I had felt to guilty to even try cause he’d had forgiven me almost immediately, and I felt like I didn’t have the right to his forgiveness, despite everything I’ve done, and how it all could’ve been avoided if I was more opened.

C!Ford: what do you mean by ‘opened’?

RP!Ford: well looking back, It was I, who was always pushing people away, and blaming them for it. I had allowed father to kick Stan out over a small mistake, and therefore leading him having to survive in a car whilst running from the law for years. And then there’s Fiddleford, who had seen what was on the other side of that portal, and warned that it had to be destroyed, but I was to blinded by my own ego to realize what it may have done to him..what he had to see, if I had just listened to him…none of anything that has happened would’ve happened, and Stan wouldn’t be missing an arm..he had to suffer so much cause of me, and instead of helping, I made up the narrative that he was dead all to save myself from the guilt, which was cruel and selfish

RP!Stan: hey now, it wasn’t your fault, I mean, I was of course angry at you for not even attempting to bring me back, but looking back through what I had to do survive in that hell, what I had to endure…I can understand why you didn’t want to risk opening it back up again. Though of course, I still do sometimes can’t help feel upset that you had done nothing, so that’s something I still need to work on

RP!Ford: and you have every right to feel way, hell, I wish you’d show more of it often towards me, I was the one who created that portal, and Fiddleford had warned me about the dangers of it, I didn’t listen, and in the end you had to play the price of my foolishness. And what makes it worse, is that I knew that if the roles were reversed, you would’ve done anything to bring me back

RP!Stan: hell yeah I would, even it took me all my life to figure it out, I would’ve gotten you out of there

C!Ford: …well, in my world you did just that, and I had punch and berated him for it

RP!Stan: wait- what…why?

C!Ford: I was upset that he didn’t heed my warnings..and that he could’ve ended the world as we know it..that he could’ve let Bill out

RP!Stan:…wait..what warnings

C!Ford: the warnings I had put the journals, and had written in-….in…(realizing)

RP!Stan:…in what?

RP!Ford: (also realizing and mumbling)…o-oh..he means in invisible ink

RP!Stan: huh? Say that again

RP!Ford: invisible ink

RP:Stan:….

C!Ford:…

RP!Ford:…

RP!Stan: (putting his hands together) so…let me get this straight..YOU are upset that he didn’t heed the warnings that you had put down, in all three journals..two of which you HIDE..and were all written in INVISIBLE INK?!

C!Ford:….

RP!Stan: did you tell him, that they would be in invisible ink..or where to find to the other two..or DID you just think that he’d figure it out somehow on his own? Cause I can tell you right now as we are the same person, he certainly would have NOT

C!Ford:…yeah I see where I went wrong

RP!Stan: yeah, no shit, you both have messed up, but you are more in the wrong here

C!Ford: I see that now…

THIS CRACKS ME UP!! anon you gotta become a fanfic writer because this is so good

Rp!au Ford and Stan getting along like bros, lots of apologizing and self reflection and then there’s canon Ford just staring at them

In the 2 other journals they show Ford’s slow decent into madness without the use of black lights but lets be honest Stan would still open that portal even if the first thing he read was “don’t open portal it will kills us all”

(I know you sent this awhile ago I’M SUPER SORRY)

[hederasgarden]

Can I get "Don't be shy now, sit on my face" with the cowboy himself, Mr. Tyler Owens?

BESTIE. The scream I scrumpt.  Thanks to @a-reader-and-a-writer for the mechanical bull idea. This is long because I am incapable of responding to a request in 100 words apparently.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x F!Reader Word Count: 569 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, 18+ only. Oral (female receiving) and face sitting. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

"And this is supposed to help me ride the mechanical bull how exactly?" you question with your knees planted on either side of Tyler's chest.

"Just trust me, sweetheart."

“That's not an answer," you tell him archly. 

He tilts his head back to look up at you. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"No...I'm just a bit nervous,” you admit.

He gazes steadily at you, and the way he rubs his hands up and down your thighs is both soothing and reassuring. "Well, you know what I like to say....you don't face your fears, you ride them."

You stare down at him, unamused. He grins back at you.

"Come on little lady, belly up to the bar," he encourages, cupping your ass and yanking you forward until the most intimate part of you is only inches away from his face. 

Embarrassment burns under your skin, and you fight the urge to shift away. This close, Tyler's bound to see every little imperfection, and it’s made worse by the fact that he’s practically perfect himself. Sometimes just looking at him could overwhelm you, not to mention what happened when he took his shirt off.

"Come on," he encourages softly.

Hesitantly, you lower yourself over him until he can nose at your folds. You grip the headboard and shift experimentally, inhaling sharply when Tyler drags the flat of his tongue through your center. Your thighs tense and he does it again, letting out a low, satisfied little hum that has you clenching around nothing. 

For a few minutes, Tyler seems content just to taste and tease you with soft, sweeping motions.  Slowly, you feel yourself begin to relax, some of the tension leaving your thighs. When you settle more firmly against him, he groans in response, his fingers flexing against your skin. You close your eyes and rock your hips forward, the world narrowing to the feel of his tongue in your cunt and his nose brushing against your clit. 

"Tyler," you moan. 

He groans in response, fingertips digging into your skin as his tongue spears into you. The messy way he eats you out is so loud that you’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for how good it makes you feel. Gone is any hesitation on your part as you ride his face in earnest. You grasp his hair and pull, desperate to have him even closer.

The beginning of your orgasm sparks to life in your belly, the rough drag of his tongue over your clit fanning the embers. Your hips move of their own accord, your body chasing what it needs. When your orgasm washes over you Tyler doesn’t stop, holding you still as he drinks greedily from your cunt. By the time he’s done with you, your thighs are trembling, and your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s Tyler,” he reminds you with a smirk. You watch him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s flush and his hair is tousled from your grip. But above all, he looks satisfied. 

“That was good, sweetheart. Real good.”

All you can manage is a thumbs up in response, your head hanging forward. “So,” you begin, “are you going to tell me now what that had to do with bull riding.”

“Not a goddamn thing,” he says with the biggest grin you’ve seen.

Send me a request

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Consider this: Tony x F!Reader where they both have an insanely high sex drive…which leads them to do it at any and all given moments, regardless of where they are 🤔🤭

Libido

A/N: This ask has been marinating in my inbox for a long time now. Heart it, reblog it and comment if you’ve enjoyed reading :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut, fluff.

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

“What was that, Y/N?”

You covered a needy little moan that escaped with a cough as you squirmed in your seat, trying to appear as normal as you could in front of the camera. This pushed your colleague to ask if you were okay, a question he really didn’t need answered.

Not when you had a certain cocky, billionaire genius between your legs, stroking your glistening folds with a shit-eating grin on his face. The table you sat at conveniently covered your lower half, making you appear perfectly innocent on the meeting call while your boyfriend teased you relentlessly.

It was payback for the time you’d snuck into his lab to give him the best head of his life - which he admitted to, while he was on a phone call with Thaddeus Ross.

Not that he would ever discourage you from doing it again but the dichotomy of Tony’s warning glares and vice-like grip in your hair to guide you along his length had felt too good to miss.

“I um—I’m sorry I think there’s something wrong with my network here.” Quickly switching off your camera, you went on mute as you felt Tony slide two fingers inside your pussy, grinning victoriously as you let out a moan you’d been stifling.

“I hate you, Stark.” You panted, lifting your hips to match his pace as he massaged your slick walls.

“Love you too, baby.” He smirked, kissing your inner thigh lovingly while bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Put that mouth to good use now, make me come.” With that you guided his face where you needed him the most.

The two of you often had a hard time keeping your hands off of each other. And you didn’t even try. Finding any and every place you could to get naughty. Be it on missions, plane rides or meetings, you two would make sure to christen the unlikeliest of places.

.

“What if they hear us?”

You would think your urgent whispers would make the man halt his ministrations but no, they seemed to spur him on.

“Better be quiet then.”

Tony murmured against your lips as he slid into your wetness with ease, muffling your moan that almost escaped by covering your mouth with his hand.

While the communal kitchen pantry was a sizeable space, the door wasn’t exactly sound proof. And with the team lounging right in the adjacent room, you were walking a thin line of hot, sneaky sex and outing your relationship to them all.

It was movie night, and while the team seemed blissfully unaware, you and Tony had snuck into the kitchen under the pretext of getting more popcorn. His wandering hands led you to pull him into the pantry urgently, wanting him to take you right there. You craved the man as if it were a primal need.

“Tony, I need more. Please..” you cried, digging your fingernails into his shoulders while he held you up against the cabinets, your legs wrapped around his hips as he began moving ever so slowly.

“Shh. I got you, sweetheart.”

With his lips murmuring promises against your skin, he picked up his pace, making his length brush deliciously against the spot that made your knees weak.

You weren’t sure if you could hold your moans in any longer as he drove you closer to the edge, his thrusts picking up on the urgency you both felt.

“Y/N? Are you in there? I thought you were getting popcorn.” Bruce’s voice made you stop abruptly. He was right outside and could come in any minute.

“Yeah! I just wanted to get some extra candies too. I’ll—I’ll be right out.”

You felt Tony grin against your neck hearing your lame reason, knowing all the candies you could possibly imagine were already laid out on the kitchen island.

“Alright. Do you know where Tony is?” Bruce frowned as he glanced at the array of snacks already sitting there.

Tony resumed his actions, not bothering to cover your mouth any more while your eyes were fixed on the shadows of Bruce’s feet that were visible at the bottom right outside the shut door. You held your breath, glaring at the man who was now moving inside you without a care in the world.

“Uh, not really, Bruce. He’s probably back in his room, old man needs his sleep!” You joked, watching the doctor finally walk away as Tony bit down on your neck.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Y/L/N.” he warned.

“Yeah? I can’t wait, Stark.”

.

“Wait! Found another twig.”

Turning around, you blinked in confusion as Tony’s arms went around you, movements exaggerated as his fingers carded through your hair to pluck stray leaves and a twig from them.

“Don’t look so innocent, you know where your mouth has just been.”

He smirked, giving your hair a gentle but firm tug as his lips descended onto yours, tasting the last of his saltiness on your tongue.

The team was on a mission and you’d just happened to have found a secluded spot in the woods that surrounded the area. Your make out session had turned into a quickie while the team was oblivious to your activities.

You hadn’t officially announced you were together, the thrill of all excited you, plus, you wanted to keep what you had to yourself just a bit longer. It was nothing short of a wild ride sneaking around with Tony Stark.

Though you had a feeling Rhodey had his doubts that something was up, then again, he knew Tony inside out. And according to him, his behaviour had changed significantly since you’d walked into his life. He laughed and slept more, cribbed less, and the way his eyes lit up every time you were near, Rhodey was certain his best friend was smitten.

His eager length twitched against your thigh once again as you kissed, making you nip at his bottom lip before playfully pushing him away.

“I’ve already taken care of my distraction for the day.” You called over your shoulder, heading back to where the team was. Nat gave you pointed look which you dismissed, your heart still beating faster as you took a seat next to her.

I think you lost your underwear somewhere —Your favourite distraction.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, revealing a message from your secret boyfriend. While you made up an excuse to where you had been, Tony caught your eye and pulled something out of his pocket with a victorious grin. Your panties.

[cozage]

Gm!! I saw your inbox was open!! I was hoping to request something with Sanji, Ace n Franky with a selective mute (gender neutral) reader talking to them through their voice for the first time to confess? 👉👈

(Btw I wanted to let you know that your writing has such a grip on my heart, I must have re-read your Sleepy Afternoon hcs at least a hundred times 🥺🫶 and i hope you have a wonderful day!)

So sorry I didn't get a new chapter out today...the holidays kept me busy! Enjoy these sweet short stories instead <3 Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Ace, Franky Cw:  none :) Total word count: 1600

First Words

Sanji

Ever since you joined the crew, you had found yourself gravitating toward the kitchen. 

Being with Sanji was easy. He never pestered you with questions or asked you to speak. If he did ask questions, they were always non-invasive, yes-or-no questions that you could answer with a shake of your head. 

You realized you had feelings for him when he came into the kitchen one morning, dark shadows under his eyes. And before he began cooking, he signed good morning to you. You had signed back the same phrase before you realized that he had signed, not spoken. 

He beamed with pride as your eyes widened in shock. 

“You learned how to sign?” you signed quickly. 

He focused intensely as he watched the way your hands moved, and then slowly nodded. 

“I stayed up all night trying to learn the basics. I figured it’s lonely up there in your head.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger for effect. “I’m not very good yet, but I’ll try my best to follow you if you ever feel like communicating.”

You gave a soft nod, the thought making your eyes shine. Even just the effort of knowing good morning made your heart swell. 

As the days went on, Sanji got better at sign language. So much better that he indirectly became your translator for the rest of the crew if you ever felt like adding to the conversation. He came to your defense whenever Luffy begged you to speak, and helped make sure your voice was heard without ever judging you. 

As the two of you were sitting out on the deck one night under the stars, you decided you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him. 

“I have to tell you something,” you signed.

Sanji stood up a little straighter, looking at you with slight concern. “What is it, my love?”

“I think-” you paused your signing. Saying the words with your hands didn’t seem right. You trusted Sanji with everything. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to say it. Out loud. 

“I think-” you whispered softly, your voice raw from time unused. But you grew more confident when you spoke again. “I think I might just be in love with you, Sanji.”

You could see him struggling to understand your words; the fact that you had spoken was enough to send him into shock. 

And then he leaned in and kissed you. 

You melted under his touch. Your body craved the feeling of his skin as he held your face against his. 

“I love you too, my dear,” he whispered back. “And my name on your lips is sweeter than anything I could ever cook up.”

Ace

Ace didn’t mind that you didn’t speak a lot. Or speak at all. He did enough talking for the both of you. 

Still, you liked being around him. At meals, you often found yourself sitting next to him. At parties, he was often at your door, dragging you out onto the deck to have a few beers with everyone. 

You liked how he could bring people together. He was always the life of the party anywhere you went. You enjoyed his warmth, both through his devil fruit ability and personality. 

You often found yourself staring at him, admiring everything about him. You knew every other person on the ship was doing the same thing. So even when his eyes locked onto yours and the two of you had silent conversations, you did your best to ignore that ache in your chest. He was loved by everyone. You weren’t special. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ace said, taking a seat next to you on the deck. “I know you didn’t want to, and I know these parties can be overwhelming. So thanks for coming for me.”

You shook your head slightly, smiling softly. It’s no big deal.

“It is a big deal! You-” the rest of his sentence was cut off by a few of your crewmates screaming at each other and everyone cheering loudly. 

“Come on,” Ace mumbled, rising to his feet and holding out his hand for you. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I can’t hear myself think here.”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand. It was loud and overwhelming. You were here for Ace, to celebrate him being promoted. But that didn’t mean you liked being around crowds or rowdiness. 

There was only one place that was quiet on a night like tonight: the crow’s nest. So the two of you quietly snuck up the ladder and hid away from everyone. A moment of quiet amongst the sea of noise. 

“It's so peaceful up here,” Ace said softly. “I love it up here.”

You hummed in agreement. “I love you.”

Both of you froze. You hadn’t even been thinking about a confession. It had come out entirely on its own. 

You could feel Ace’s sharp gaze on you. “What?”

You cleared your throat, ignoring the heat on your face. “The view. I love the view.”

“You’re speaking.”

You finally looked at him, your voice rough. “I speak sometimes.”

“Never to me!” Ace ran his hand through his hair and took a long drink from the bottle in his hand. “You’ve never spoken to me!”

“I-” you stopped. You hadn’t spoken much since you had joined the crew. Only to Pops, really. And only whenever you were asked a direct question. Ace had probably never heard your voice. “I thought you had. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Ace said, laughing. “I just want to hear more of it! Tell me a story! Your voice is- is like-” he struggled for words, and then he smiled as his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

“It is not,” you smiled at his words, though. “You just feel that way because we can breathe up here without smelling our lovely crewmates.”

Ace barked out a laugh. “Stunning and funny. You really are the total package.”

You quieted at that. A true compliment from Ace didn’t happen often, and you could feel the blush creeping its way through your face. 

Instead, you laid back and turned your head toward the sky, choosing to watch the stars instead. You were almost asleep when Ace spoke again.

“I love you too, you know.”

Franky

You liked being in the workshop with Franky. Franky never tried to get you to speak. Most of the time it was too loud in there to hold a conversation anyway. The extent of your conversation was him asking you to get a tool for him, and you silently retrieving it. 

You weren’t sure it changed into something more, but you began watching him closely as he worked. After a day or two, he began explaining what he was building and all the steps that went into it. It wasn’t long before you were working on the bench next to him. 

Some days, Franky was chatty. He talked about his home, his old life, and other projects he had done. Sometimes he asked you simple questions about your past, but he never pried too deep. 

That’s what you liked most about Franky. Everything had been on your terms, and Franky had always received your decisions enthusiastically. He always supported you when you wanted to help him build a bench, but he also encouraged you to take rest days when you simply wanted to observe. 

Franky was always on your side. No matter what you decided, he was going to agree. He was your biggest fan, always cheering you on. 

And as his strong arms wrapped around you, both of you holding the torch to weld two pieces of metal together, you realized the heat on your face wasn’t just from the flame. 

Franky pulled his welding helmet up. “So, do you like welding?”

You nodded. “I think I like you more, Franky.”

Franky’s mouth fell open in shock. For once, you had stunned him into silence. Only the hum of the generator buzzed in the air. 

The silence made you feel strange, and words began falling out of your mouth in an attempt to fill it. 

“You’re so kind and supportive to me and you always help me learn new things. You’ve been so amazing and patient these past few weeks and you’re always so encouraging and…I just…I like you a lot, Franky, and I was just thinking about how I wanted to tell you and then it just…came out.”

Franky was still staring at you, awestruck. “You can speak?” 

You covered your face. He was missing the whole point. Maybe he would forget the words you had actually said. 

He seemed to remember your words at that exact moment. “Me? You like me?”

A small smile creeped across your face. No backing down now. “Yes, I do.”

“Super!” His words made you laugh. “I’ve liked you for quite some time as well. Just didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Your smile finally widened, full and genuine. “You’re the place I feel most comfortable, Franky.”

He gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for an embrace. “And I will never stop being that for you, I swear it.”

[virescent-v]

Appetizer

Summary: This is a shitty combination of two prompts I've had sitting in my inbox for awhile now. "Take your top off and open another bottle of wine for mommy" from Paget during a Drunk History episode and one where Emily teases reader in public. A/N: Idk how I feel about this one besties. The idea took hold and then this happened. If it's bad, I blame it on the fact that I haven't written/posted anything in months...and also my adhd running rampant during this writing session. But it did feel good to get words on a doc and to send it out to the internet void. Enjoy!

Warnings: It's smut! (Surprise, surprise! lol). If there are any typos, don't tell me Word count: 2.3k

When Emily cornered you in your bedroom before leaving for the restaurant, pressing your back against your vanity, you thought she was just going to kiss you senseless, leave you breathless, a taste of what’s to come later when you got back home. 

What you didn’t expect was for her to be kissing up your neck, whispering all the things she wants to do to you, as her fingers found their way up under your tight, little, skirt. 

With your head tilted back, each choking breath stuttering from your mouth, you tried to speak, to tell Emily you were going to be late to your reservation, but it didn’t seem like she was bothered by that fact. 

“I want to try something tonight, love,” she whispered against the shell of your ear. You weren’t even sure you could speak with how much she had already gotten you worked up, so you simply, albeit shakily, nodded. 

Emily pulled back from you, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. She reached around you to an unremarkable box on your vanity that you had missed earlier. Slowly, she pulled the lid off, each second seemingly passing with each breath you took. 

When the lid finally popped off, Emily glanced up at you, now a little more cautious than she was a few moments ago. Peeking inside, you could see a dark purple bullet vibrator nestled inside a cocoon of velvet. 

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emily hesitated, her eyes on the toy. Running her finger lightly over the smooth, silky-like silicon, she whispered, “I want you to wear this. To dinner. It comes with a remote for me to control. We’ve never talked about doing something like this, so you have every right to say no.” 

Her eyes met yours. In them, you could see her want for this, but more importantly, her want for you to feel comfortable with doing something like this. Emily usually took lead with things like this, but you were always the one actually in charge. 

Leaning in, you kissed her slowly, pouring every ounce of want and love into it. Leaning back, you took a deep breath. “I want to. I trust you, Em. I know you’ll stop if I need or want to and you’d never put me, or us, in any harmful situation.” 

Emily released the breath she seemed to be holding, a smile spreading across her mouth. “You’re right. Now, panties off, angel.” 

*** 

Maybe this had been a bad idea. 

You were barely able to string together sentences to answer the questions that the waiter kept asking you in regards to your food and order. You were pretty sure that your cheeks had been flushed since you entered the building. 

Emily was a master at playing with you -  with playing with the remote that was nestled in her pocket. She’d turn the settings to different vibrational patterns, watching as your breathing would match the pace that the toy set inside you. She paid close attention to the way the faster settings would have you gripping the edge of the table, the way the pulsating settings made you squirm in your seat. A combination of both would have you biting your lip in hopes of stifling the moans that wanted to escape. 

You didn’t know what was hotter; the way you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each quiver of the toy inside you, or the way Emily leaned back in her seat, enjoying the view of you trying to hold yourself together. 

Being so skilled at reading your body language, Emily knew exactly when you were reaching the precipice, ready to topple over the edge right there at the table. 

The problem, however, is that she wouldn’t let you. 

Worse, you couldn't even ask for her to let you cum. Every time you tried, your voice got strangled in your throat, caught between a moan and a curse that you had to swallow so as to not make your situation…obvious to the other patrons at the restaurant. 

Thankfully, when your food finally arrived, Emily took pity on you and turned the vibrator completely off. 

“How are you doing, pretty girl?” 

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. Almost. “You know exactly how I’m doing, Em.” 

Emily chuckled. “I sure do, but I enjoy hearing you say it anyways.” 

You were starting to feel a little…bratty… from the fact that you hadn’t been able to cum yet and the fact that you weren’t even sure when you would be allowed to. 

But two could play this game. 

With an almost bored, casual tone, you picked at your nails as you said, “I’m so wet, I’m not entirely sure it hasn’t gone through my dress yet. I love the feel of the toy inside me, but I wish it was your fingers or your strap instead.” 

You watched as Emily blinked a few times, her mouth agape, not anticipating you responding like that. You knew how much she loved it when you talked dirty, but she didn’t expect you to say it like that, nor in such a public place. 

She cleared her throat as you took slight pleasure in the fact that you had her flustered for once this evening. “Mind your words, princess. I can edge you even after we get home,” she said, her eyebrow raised. 

Part of you wanted to push back, lean into the bratty headspace you could feel yourself drifting into. But you knew Emily and that tone of voice. She wasn’t kidding. One time, she edged you for hours and still didn’t let you cum. Then proceeded to not let you cum for days. You didn’t want a repeat of that experience. 

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock saluted. 

Emily just smiled, amused at your antics, and continued to eat. 

You weren’t sure what to make of it; you expected her to fire back with some other quick-witted, snarky, sexy response. It kind of tilted you off axis, not sure of what happened. 

You decided to ignore it, picking up your fork to continue eating. However, once the food was on your fork and halfway to your mouth, Emily turned the vibrator on to its highest setting. The surprise vibrations sent your fork clunking back onto the table, drawing the gaze of a few other patrons. 

“Emily,” you hissed under your breath, your jaw clenched, as you tried to gesture an apology to the people sitting near you. 

Another smirk graced her pretty face. “Hurry up and finish eating, love. I want to enjoy dessert at home,” she said with a wink. 

*** 

You weren’t sure you were walking straight. Every few steps Emily would change the vibration pattern and it would cause your knees to buckle. If you stopped to regain your balance, or to breathe through the pleasure, Emily would turn the vibrator off completely. Even though they were absolutely ruined, you were thankful for your lace panties. Otherwise, you’re not sure the toy would even still be inside you with how wet you were. 

Reaching the door, you fumbled with your keys, struggling to find the right one, and struggling further to get it in the slot to turn the lock. 

You heard Emily chuckling lowly behind you. 

Finally getting the door open, you rushed inside, throwing your stuff on the small table by the door and kicking your shoes off. 

Turning around as Emily shut the door behind her, you went to pull her towards you, but she put her hand up. 

“I meant it when I said I wanted dessert at home, love,” she said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the kitchen. 

You wanted to whine. You wanted to scream. You were so pent up you didn’t think you were going to be able to last another minute, let alone however long it took for Emily to eat whatever dessert she had in mind. 

You kept your mouth shut, figuring it was better to play along with her plan than to cause more issues for yourself later. 

Walking to the fridge, Emily pulled out a small cheesecake that you hadn’t known about. She grabbed plates and cutlery, serving you both small slices. Before you could start on yours, Emily’s hand went up again stopping you. “Uh uh, wait a second. Do me a favor and take your shirt off and open up a bottle of wine for mommy,” she smirked, licking her fork of the smooth dessert. 

You gulped, walking over to the wine fridge and pulling out a wine you knew went well with desserts. You pulled the glasses down, pouring a healthy amount into each. Before turning around, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse before sliding it off of your shoulders. You unhooked your bra and let that fall to the floor as well. Grabbing the wine glasses, you turned around, watching as Emily looked you up and down. 

You sauntered up to her, placing the glasses on the table. You waited until she looked up at you from her chair before you slowly unzipped your skirt, letting gravity take it to the ground. You watched as Emily’s hands flexed as if she wanted to reach out to you, but she managed to refrain. She licked her lips before looking back up at you. 

Pushing her legs together, you straddled her lap. As you sat down fully, you sharply inhaled as your laced covered cunt made contact with Emily’s dress pants. The urge to grind down, to feel the friction where you needed it most, overtook you. 

You got a few good rolls of your hips in before Emily’s hands shot out to your body, grabbing harshly at your waist. Even the bruising pressure of her fingers on your skin was turning you on further, a desperate mewl escaping your lips. 

“Such a desperate whore for me, hm? Couldn’t even wait until I finished my cheesecake.” 

You pulled your lip between your teeth, struggling in Emily’s grasp to move your hips. You were tired of playing her game, not even bothering to disagree with her. “I need to cum, please, Em,” you begged, your beautiful eyes trying their hardest to convince her. 

“Fine, if you want to be so needy, you can cum. But I’m not going to touch you.” 

Your eyes blew wide, watching as Emily pulled the remote back out of her pocket immediately pressing buttons to turn on one of the fastest, pulsating modes. 

Your hands shot out to her shoulders, your head falling back as a nearly obscene moan tumbled from your mouth. “Fuck.” Your hips started to move once more, the friction of the lace against your swollen clit hitting just right. 

“Go ahead, baby. Get yourself off on my lap.” Ignoring what she said moments earlier, unable to resist how tantalizing you looked, Emily’s hands started moving around your body, her fingers trailing over your sweat-slicked skin. They grabbed at your hips, forcing you down, making you grind faster before gripping your ass. She trailed them up, caressing the soft skin of your belly, trailing up to your heaving breasts, fondling your stiff peaks. Her hands never stayed in one spot long, as if she couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch you, as if she wished she had more than two hands. 

“Fuck, look at you. Riding me so well.” Emily brought her lips to your neck. “You look so pretty like this, flushed and needy and mine.” 

You couldn’t stop the moans from escaping. Each grind down - and back and forth - of your hips had your pussy clenching harder around the toy. With each movement of your body, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, if it was even possible. You could smell your arousal, so strong from hours of Emily teasing you.

The toy felt so good inside of you, each buzz and pulse sent tingles through your body and down your spine, each vibration igniting a fire deep within your belly. 

You could quickly feel yourself getting close, the constant edging doing most of the work for you. It likely wouldn’t be your best orgasm - you meant it when you said you’d rather have her fingers or her cock - but something, at this point, was better than nothing. 

“Come on, baby. Come all over my lap so I can take you upstairs and clean you up with my mouth.” 

The vision of Emily between your legs, thighs wrapped around her face, with her tongue licking at your drenched cunt was enough to send you over the edge, Emily’s name repetitively falling from your lips like a broken prayer. 

As you came down, Emily stroked your hair away from your face, peppering small kisses over any part of you that she could reach. She kept whispering affirmations, things you’d heard a thousand times, but would hear a million more. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve a love as grand as Emily Prentiss, but you weren’t going to question it. 

Pulling back from you, Emily looked at you with all the love in the world. “How does a bath sound?” 

You tilted your head a bit, raising your eyebrow at her. “What happened to you cleaning me up with your tongue?” 

Tapping your hip lightly, signaling for you to get up off of her lap, Emily snickered lightly. “You have until I get upstairs to be naked and on your hands and knees, pretty girl.” 

You kissed her lightly on the cheek, a mischievous grin on your face, before racing up the stairs. 

“Oh! And leave the toy in!” She called after you. 

She heard a faint moan - or was it a groan? - echo down the stairs, an almost evil smirk breaking out across her face. 

Looks like that orgasm was just the appetizer of the evening. 

[poppadom0912]

Jay’s Masterplan

Summary: 5 times Jay's plans failed and 1 time it kind of worked out.

A/N: @desimarie12 who asked for a part two of Sylvie’s Masterplan. But, this can also be read as a standalone. I changed and expanded on your idea a lot. I got a little carried away and wrote 3.7k words

I’ve got a few more asks in my inbox left to finish for this 1k celebration so they’ll be coming out very slowly by the end of this week. I’m considering this to be part of it. I hope you enjoy!!

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

1.

It had been two days since your birthday, two days since Sylvie had been incredibly sneaky and achieved one of her biggest accomplishments in life: getting you and jay to finally go on a date.

Said date was today and the past two days had been filled with nothing but anticipation and excitement and endless teasing and cheesy smiles from your sister who seemed as happy as you.

Jay claimed that he had everything under control. He was going to take you out and he would be in charge of everything. You had nothing to worry about – he insisted.

Your first date was going to be perfect.

Sylvie came over to help you get ready. She sat cross legged on your bed as you skimmed your closet and the possible dresses to wear, giving her input when needed. She helped do your hair when time was running out and you were close to running the risk of being late.

Then the doorbell rang and before you could worry any further, she was pushing you out the door, quelling all your worries with the promise that she would clean up the mess that was your bedroom before she went back home.

You didn’t miss the sly smirk on her face when you opened the door, and Jay couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Be good and have fun kids! Make sure you use protection!” Sylvie smiled, waving you off like a mother.

You could hear her cackles after you let out a weird, almost unattractive noise, embarrassed at her words. “Sylvie!”

“I’m so sorry about her, she’s…”

“She’s being Sylvie.”

Jay was very chivalrous, opening the car door for you before he got in himself. The entire car ride had been filled with comfortable chatter and your pre-date jitters had started to die down.

His story was suddenly cut off by a traffic jam. Cars were beeping and drivers were shouting out each other. You had to roll your window to try understand what was happening.

You heard the words 9-1-1 and ambulance being shouted by numerous voices and both of you were already getting out, sharing a quick glance, exchanging no words.

You followed Jay towards the crushed cars, the smoke piling up was now a cause for concern.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Jay asked a woman who was stumbling out her car. She held her bloodied head and tripped over her feet disorientated.

"Come with me please. I'm a nurse, I can check you out." You said, moving towards the woman, offering an arm for her to hold onto which she did without question.

Leading her towards the pavement, you looked back at Jay whose eyes hadn't left you, making sure you were safe and had everything under control.

Smiling, you nodded slightly, giving him all the assurance he needed to leave you and do his own thing.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

2.

So the first date was a bit of a flop.

You ended up going to the hospital with one of the victims involved in the crash and at the end of the night, it had gotten too late to continue with Jay's original plans.

All that was possible was a small takeout at you apartment. In your opinion, this had been one of your most memorable first dates ever.

But, Jay wasn't satisfied. He was committed to taking you out on a proper date, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

It was now two weeks later, both your afternoons lining up together perfectly.

Due to a small timing problem, you would be meeting Jay at the park. He had to sort something out at work really quickly but that gave you enough time to set everything up to your exact preferences.

You knew Jay would have wanted more of a say in the set up but you wanted to contribute something. You brought a cute picnic blanket and a few small foods to nibble on.

Bored, you started picking on the mini charcuterie board you made, eating the cracker as you surveyed the park.

It was nice and peaceful. All the kids were in school, most people at work and only a few people were in the park, walking their dogs or going for a quick midday run.

All of a sudden, you were brought out your reverie by a light tapping on your shoulder. Looking over, you saw a small chubby hand retreating from your shoulder.

Following it, you found yourself looking at a child who couldn't be any older than two.

"Hello." You smiled softly at the little girl, her hair in two small pigtails that held just enough hair to tie up, the tiniest purple trainers and the cutest dungarees. "Honey are you lost?"

She shook her head, her finger pointing at the cracker in your hand. "I have cracker please?"

You swooned, internally aweing and cooing at her voice. Despite being a labour and delivery nurse, you could never get over your baby fever.

"Oh! You want a cracker?" You replied, already picking up a cracker to give to her which she took with the cheekiest smile on her face, her dimples almost blinding you.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Her pronunciation was slightly off but that only made her cuter.

Without any further prompting, she sat opposite you, her legs crossed as she started to eat.

You were so confused and caught up in this little girl that you hadn't seen Jay entering the park. You unfortunately missed the moment his face lit up the second he noticed you.

Walking towards you, his smile slowly turned into a confused frown as he caught sight of the toddler sitting with you.

"Sylvie never mentioned you were a mum."

You jumped, head whipping up to look at him in alarm. "Jay! Hey!"

You stood up, wrapping him in a quick hug and pressing a light kiss on his cheek before pulling away to look down at the toddler who was now on her second cracker.

"Yeah I have no idea where she came from but she asked very politely for some crackers." You said, your smile soft as watched her take a grape.

"No parents in sight?" Jay asked. Both of your eyes were stuck on her as if hypnotised.

"Literally no one is here but us Jay." You rolled your eyes, pointing out the obvious. "She literally appeared out of thin air."

"Cool." Jay hummed, nodding as if it was completely normal to have a random child come up to you and start eating your food.

You sighed wistfully, sitting back down in your spot, the little girl looking up as you did so.

"Is it yummy?" You asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the way her head titled to the side.

"Yes, yummy!" She nodded eagerly. "Thank you!"

"Your welcome darling." Gosh you were so gone for her and Jay took notice of how captivated you were of her.

"Gosh I just want to eat her." You said in an almost aggressive manner.

Jay totally didn't feel anything watching how you interacted with her. His heart definitely wasn't going all soft and gooey, his mind definitely wasn't wandering.

For a split second, Jay could envision a future with you.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

3.

Third times a charm, at least that's what they say.

The two previous attempts of a first date hadn't been very successful. Your last date almost was, you didn't mind the company of the toddler but her parents needed to be found, a task that took over two hours.

Todays date was fool proof. Nothing, and Jay guaranteed it this time, nothing was going to go wrong.

On both of your days off, you both decided on lunch again. This time, unlike the past two, you were successfully able to sit and eat an entire meal without anything going awry.

Just like Jay said, nothing had gone wrong and it was almost the perfect first date.

The only thing left to make this perfect would be-

Gunshots.

Wait, that wasn't right. Gunshots were the opposite of perfection, they would ruin everything.

Gunshots?

Screams echoed in the distance and instantly, Jay was running, his hand tightening its grip around yours.

You mentally cursed yourself for choosing to wear heels.

Jay was shouting some words down his radio that he conveniently carried on him at all times. You could recognise him calling his team for backup.

Turning the corner, you were almost away from the direction of the shooting when all of a sudden, something whizzed past you and Jay groaned.

"Oh my God!" You reacted on instinct.

With the hand still holding his, you pulled him towards you and immediately inspected and gingerly held his bleeding bicep.

"Okay good, you'll be fine, it's just a graze." You sighed in relief as you took off your cardigan, wrapping it around the wound, ignoring Jay asking for you not to ruin such a nice pattern.

"I'll be fine, I can wait for an ambo-"

Jay stopped himself when you looked up at him deadpanned, mouth closing as he petulantly let you tighten up your knot.

"I'm the professional here Jay Halstead so you listen to me." You didn't break eye contact as you tightened it even more to the point that he let out a miniscule wince. "Just wait till I tell your brother about this."

"Wait, Y/N, you don't have to tell Will. Don't tell him please."

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

4.

Fourth time around, you were slowly starting to lose hope at ever having a successful first date with the man.

At this rate, you were becoming kinda desperate to the point where you were contemplating getting Sylvie involved and having her plan everything since she was clearly much better than both you and Jay combined.

You left the house with your expectations very low and you were right to have done so because not even ten minutes after leaving your house, you suddenly found yourself bagless.

The man had been so quick with it that you had no time to even react.

You weren't even surprised, just disappointed that you hadn't been holding your bag tighter. You should've known better.

Damn. Your phone was in your bag too.

Sighing, you turned around. Your destination changed now. You needed to go to the 21st precinct now.

One thing was on your side today since the walk was under ten minutes and you had worn the appropriate footwear this time too.

Entering the precinct, you smiled and waved at Trudy. You had been well acquainted with the older woman through Sylvie and Mouch.

"Hey Trudy, do you by any chance know if Jay's already left?" You asked nervously, now realising that this all could've been a waste of time if he already left to go to your date.

Trudy studied you closely, eyes squinted as she tried to figure out what was happening. "You two still haven't gone on a date yet? You want me to have a word with him Brett?"

You chuckled, appreciating her protective nature. "No it's okay but I think I was just robbed."

Trudy wasn't laughing with you. Her face dropped, eyes wide at your confession.

"Then why you standing around here for?" She huffed incredulously as she rounded her desk and started pulling you towards the Intelligence gates.

"Come on, we're going to confront lover boy."

She gave you no time to answer back as you were already in the bullpen, everyone staring at you with lots of confusion.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Jay asked, eyes going to the clock when a wave of fear crashed over him. "There's still twenty minutes till our reservation-"

"Brett 2.0 has been robbed." Trudy said, not wanting to waste any more time. "What a boyfriend you are huh?"

Both of you ignored that last part, everyone's eyes widening at the statement.

"Shit- are you hurt?" Jay asked, chucking his file aside and striding towards you, taking you in his arm and inspecting your body for any visible injuries.

"I'm completely fine, untouched." You assured him, taking hold of his hands to stop his unnecessary worrying. "It's just my bag - phone, wallet, keys, cards all that stuff."

"We'll find it." Jay stated, no hesitation or doubt in his words. "I'll track your phone and hopefully we'll find this man."

"We'll need another rain check." You said sadly, trying not to show too much disappointment.

"It's okay, don't worry about that." Jay shook his head.

"As long as your okay and safe - that's all that matters."

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

5.

The night had started off without a hitch and you were trying not to think about it too much.

This had all been very last minute. Jay had randomly called you, inviting you out to the very fancy restaurant that neither of your salaries could afford.

Apparently, he helped someone out at work and they owned the restaurant. So as a favour, they wanted to let him and a friend have a free dinner.

Jay wasn't going to pass on this opportunity, especially if he could take you on a date.

You were both dressed up the most fancily either of you had been for any of your failed attempts of dates. It was safe to say that Jay was even more attractive, if that was even possible, when he put a little extra effort in.

All your food had been ordered and your conversation had been flowing smoothly from one topic to the next. You had to cross all your fingers and toes to not jinx yourself.

Before the food could come, you quickly excused yourself to the restroom. You needed to go really quick and maybe touch up your face a little bit too.

The women's side was empty and so you wasted no time, quickly doing your business, washing your hands and fixing yourself in the very bougie mirror.

Reapplying your lip gloss and fixing a few stray hairs, you took a quick picture of yourself in the mirror, sending it to Sylvie before leaving.

As you went to pull the door handle, you recoiled, hissing and shaking your hand from the burning heat.

Hesitantly, you slowly moved your finger, wanting to touch it again really quickly to double check you weren't hallucinating.

Hissing again, your fears were confirmed. There was a fire.

Just great. This was perfect. Exactly what you wanted.

You had nothing on you to protect yourself. The shawl you brought had been taken by the hostess, the only sort of extra material you had on your person were the glasses cloth for your reading glasses.

But it wasn't nearly big enough to cover your face. It was good enough though to pull the door handle without inflicting too much damage on your hand.

Blowing out a puff of air, you psyched yourself up, bouncing a little in your heels. You had no idea how bad the fire was but either way, you had to be prepared to move.

Just as you pulled the door open, your phone started ringing. But you were already on the move now and answering the phone wasn't a part of the mini plan you just formulated.

So, like the smart individual you were, you ignored your buzzing phone and tried to make your way out of the smoke.

It was quite thick considering the time frame. You didn't think you were gone for too long but you were struggling to see through the smoke, let alone make your way through it.

Trying to keep ahold of your breath, you squinted to try make out the corridor and the walls. The restaurant was the type of fancy that all the walls were identical and in this disorientated state, it was even harder to distinguish where you were going.

You were starting to struggle with your breath, you'd have to inhale soon so you had to get out of here fast.

Tripping over your feet, you caught yourself on the wall, coincidentally another metal handle that was hot. Without thinking, you pulled your hand away and you fell to your knees.

You weren't able to overthink everything like you normally would.

Wincing, you quickly pulled yourself up and this time, you couldn't avoid breathing and inhaling the smoke. Your coughing fit was expected but that didn't make it any less pleasant.

Ignoring the tingling in your knees, you dragged yourself to stand straight, cloth back over your mouth and moving again towards any sort of exit.

"Call out!"

You paused. Did you hear that right?

"Call out!"

No, you were actually hearing it. If you had to guess, that sounded like the man your sister was deeply in love in. If it wasn't Matt that was shouting then you were truly losing it.

Deciding to risk it, you called out. "Matt?!"

There was a pause before you heard a commotion. "Y/N! Call out again!"

Stifling your coughs, you listened, calling out again as you moved towards the sound of his voice.

If it wasn't for the adrenaline flooding your veins, you would've deflated in relief at the familiar sight of the firefighter, a few men behind him who you couldn't recognise as the smoke was getting thicker.

Without any further word, Matt pulled you towards him and started escorting you away, shouting a few words at his men. "Y/N was there anyone else back there with you?"

You shook your head, coughing again. "No, it's only me."

It took a moment but as soon as you were outside, relief could've drowned you.

Despite all the beautiful fresh air, it welcomed you with an even more wonderful coughing fit.

In a blurry of motions, you found yourself being gently moved to sit down on a stretcher.

"Y/N, oh my gosh, thank goodness." You recognised Sylvie instantly without even looking. You could hear the tears wanting to escape in the thickness in her voice. "We were so scared."

Sylvie was multitasking, talking to you as she started fretting over you, checking for any visible injuries before starting to treat you for smoke inhalation.

"My hand." You rasped out when you realised she hadn't taken note of your trembling hands just yet.

"Shhh, don't talk." Sylvie gently caressed your arm before disappearing back into what you think is her ambulance.

You started blinking to get rid of the blurriness and the first thing you saw when you finally gained your somewhat clear vision was a harried looking Jay.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey you." Jay replied, a small smile that fell when he saw the breathing mask being put over your face and Sylvie beginning to bandage your hands. "Don't ever scare me like that, ever again you hear me?"

Just as you were going to reply, Jay shook his head, moving his hand back so that he wouldn't touch you. "Please, don't say anything."

The look on his face made you wish you still couldn't see properly. Looking into the smoke was less painful than looking at his face drowning in hurt.

"And don't you dare say sorry either or else this fire will be the least of your problems."

You sighed in relief, from both this newfound oxygen and from being reunited with Jay.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

+1

Luckily for you, your injuries weren't too bad, just some smoke inhalation and third degree burns but you did have the stay overnight for observation.

The adrenaline was slowly starting to die down now that you were in the hospital. The room was silent and you could finally start to relax.

Before your thoughts could spiral, Jay re-entered the room, weirdly with a tray in hand.

"Don't talk, I asked Will and he advised you try not talk too much but if you must, then whisper please - for my sake."

You could only nod, your eyes trained on him as he made his way across the room towards you, placing the tray on the folding table.

As if knowing what you were going to ask him, a smile broke out on his face as he moved the little table towards you.

"Well, our date didn't go to plan, again, so I thought we'd do it here." He revealed, as he uncovered the tray of what you now knew was food from the hospital cafeteria.

"Now I know this wasn't the food we were going to have tonight but, you eat it everyday so there must be something to it." He shrugged, very smooth as he opened the individual packages.

"All the main dishes were gone but this can't be too bad."

Looking back at you, Jay was caught off guard at how you were staring at him. Despite everything that happened tonight, there was this softness and longing in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

The corner of your eyes were crinkling as they squinted. Even under the oxygen mask, it was so obvious that you were smiling, as bright as you did on your first failed date.

Jay wanted to make you smile that like for however long you allowed him to.

"Thank you." You whispered to him, blowing him a kiss from under the mask.

Jutting your head towards him, he didn't need any words to know what you were asking of him.

Taking off the oxygen mask and putting on the nasal canula, Jay made sure he was doing everything right, Will's words replaying in the back of his mind.

His touch was feather light, fingers much more colder than your way too warm cheeks.

"Okay so, sandwich first?" He asked, surveying the options again, waiting for your nod or shake of your head.

When you nodded, he opened the package and held it out to you so you could take a bite. Your hands were both bandaged making you incapable of doing anything yourself.

You smiled at him with your mouthful, your cheeks puffing out to express your gratitude for him.

As you chewed, he opened his own and also started to eat his dinner, alternating between feeding you and himself in comfortable silence.

This definitely wasn't what Jay had planned for your first date but it was definitely a memorable one and he wouldn't have you either way: happy and safe, well fed and content.

If this just the first date, then Jay couldn't wait for a lifetime full of them.

[homeslices]

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

A/N: For the one annon who requested a before the Borderlands with my Best Friend fic I’m working on it as we speak, I just got a lotta inspo for this 😏 and 🦢 annon I just wanted to let you know ily and you’re so sweet <3. If people have any other Alice in Borderland ideas for me my inbox is open.

Summary: This has no connection to my Best Friends fics it’s just pure smut with Chishiya but it could technically be read as a part of it if you wanted it too.

Pairings: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Smut

“Oh, will you look at that”

Chishiya draws out the first vowel of his sentence in a condescending way, but you really couldn't pay attention to that. You couldn’t pay attention to anything.

A fog of lust clouds your mind and senses. The position you’re in only makes it worse. Your head lulls back against Chishiya’s right shoulder, not being able to sit up from both bliss and exhaustion. Your bare back presses against his clothed chest and your legs are hooked around his, opening wide for him to do as he pleases.

The hand that was switching in between your nipples, flicking and twisting them in the most calculated way, soon starts trailing up. It brushes gently against your sternum, up your neck, until you can feel him gently grasp your jaw.

You can even begin to process what’s going on before Chishiya moves your head from his shoulder, to straight up, carefully holding it up himself.

Your unfocused eyes were staring through whatever was in front of you, but the feeling of your clit being pinched brings you back to reality. You squeeze your eyes shut at the spiked pain and pleasure, letting out a squeal surprise.

Bringing his lips right against your left ear, Chishiya continues with a single word.

“Look.”

With as much strength as you could muster, your eyes slowly open and focus on the exact thing Chishiya wanted it to. Yourself.

The mirror mounted to the wall reflects everything in front of it, and at that moment that includes you.

Your eyes meet your own, and you can see the mess Chishiya has made you. You look like you’ve been fucked dumb, which is pretty accurate. Chishiya uses his hand that wasn’t holding your jaw to part your sticky folds, revealing your clenching hole, aching with need.

He’s been messing with you like this for a while. Toying with your bundle of nerves until you see stars but never letting you finish. Rubbing up and down your slit, but never putting his fingers where you needed them most. However, the stimulation of him playing with your clit and your hard nipples felt so good, euphoric even.

Pleased at your compliance, Chishiya trails two of his long, slender fingers to your desperate hole. Your cunt tightly squeezes around them as soon as they enter and you let out a whine of relief.

Chishiya expertly navigates the inside of you, knowing exactly what makes you moan and scream. You let out a whimper, feeling him so deep in you with just his fingers.

He curls them suddenly, pressing them right against that spongy spot, making you open your mouth in a silent cry. All you can do is watch in the mirror as Chishiya pumps in and out of your dripping cunt.

At this point a white ring has formed around his fingers and Chishiya soon adds a third finger. Letting out a broken moan, you move your eyes to Chishiya, only to find he’s already looking at you. There’s a smug look in his eyes when you meet them.

“Feel good?” He questions like he doesn’t see you falling apart in front of him.

You shakily answer with a hum, which is all you can manage. The sudden feeling of Chishiya’s fingers speeding up and your clit being stimulated once again makes your eyes immediately fly back to the reflection of your cunt in the mirror.

You can’t keep the moan bubbling up in your throat down, and the haze that was covering your mind before soon returns. Your eyes stay fixed on the mirror as Chishiya expertly makes a mess out of you, ruining anyone else for you except himself.

At this point you're close. So close to the edge that you let out a desperate sob and hand grabs around Chishiya’s wrist that’s pistoling in and out of your sopping cunt to ground yourself.

Leaning down, eyes not leaving the mirror, Chishiya leaves open mouth kisses up and down your neck, marking you, all while watching you fall apart on his fingers.

His hand that was gripping your jaw soon trails town to tweak your sensitive nipples lance again and switching between the two.

Chishiya lips brush against your ear, one word leaving them.

“Cum.”

Just like that coil of arousal that has been building for what feels like forever, snaps. White floods your vision as you cream around his fingers. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers keep going in and out, in and out, even faster than before. Your nails dig into his wrist, overwhelmed at the overstimulation.

“Too much,” you cry out.

Whispering in your ear once again he responds.

“You can take it, can’t you?”

You only nod mindlessly. Chishiya doesn’t falter from his fast pace. Your second orgasm was fastly approaching and he could tell. Your cunt was squeezing around his fingers once more, and your eyes were starting to stare mindlessly in front of you.

And just like that, with a little more pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you watch yourself cum for a second time. You let out a sob of pleasure and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Chishiya slowly works you through your orgasm, leisurely slowing his fingers to a stop, and when he removes them from your dripping cunt, you let out a whine at the sensitivity.

You feel Chishiya wrap one of his arms around your waist and the other gently cups your jaw.

“You think you got one more in you?”

It was only then that you felt something hard pressed against your back. Looking up at Chishiya in the mirror, you see his amused expression, but it’s hinted with need.

The look he was giving you was making your clit throb once again, so you turn around and put your lips on his. You kissing him soon turned into a battle of dominance, that you quickly lost, as you both quickly stripped Chishiya of his clothes.

Once his clothes were scattered somewhere around the room, it was sort of a blur. All you could focus on now was looking at Chishiya’s reflection in the mirror as he pounded in you from behind.

He tightly grasped your hips and all you could do was grip the sheets, your head falling against the bed. His cock was hitting your g-spot over and over again. You felt so full. You could remember anything, not ever your own name. The only thing going through your mind was Chishiya.

However, it seemed apparent that Chishiya didn’t like the fact that you were no longer looking at the mirror in front of you. He removes one of his hands from your hips, and brushes it all the way up your spine, only to then grab your hair. He then pulls, making you strain your neck to watch yourself once again.

Your cunt clenches around Chishiya’s cock and his hips stutter. You know you're going to cum soon and so does Chishiya. His hips speed up, making you aware he’s just as desperate as you are. He’ll never admit it though, not when he looks so smug about the state you’re in.

Finally, when Chishiya gives a particularly rough thrust aimed right at that special spot in you, your final orgasm of the night hits. You let out a shaky cry as you squeeze around Chishiya’s cock, vision white once more. You hear a loud groan behind you and then you feel Chishiya paint your walls white.

You close your eyes letting the euphoric feeling and exhaustion settle over. You feel Chishiya pull out of you, and you let out a whimper. Your head felt like mush. You couldn’t think, everything was hazy.

When the fog finally cleared your mine, you find yourself under the sheets wearing a clean t-shirt, and can feel Chishiya’s arms wrapped around you.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly yet hesitantly, as if not to startle you.

You nod against the crook of his neck.

“Yeah I’m good,” you confirm.

You don’t move when you continue.

“Are you okay?”

You can both hear and feel him as he lets out a huff of amusement.

“Yeah I’m okay.”

You let out a hum of contentment before closing your eyes once again.

[allbark-no-bite]

the night shift.

jake seresin x bradley bradshaw (wc: 3k)

summary: jake’s a cop working the night shift and pulls over a mildly drunk (and very interested) firefighter. chaos ensues.

warnings: mature, *driving while under the influence of alcohol, some sexual references

*if this bothers you, just don’t read, simple as that. you don’t have to come into my inbox to tell me that it bothers you <3

author’s note: i’ve never written anything faster in my entire like. this was so much fun! i came across this post again and couldn’t let it go. all credit to @squiddosss for their amazing artwork

————————————————————————

It's slow nights like these that make Jake question why he prefers the night shift.

The gravel of the lonely backroad crunches beneath the tires of his cruiser as he makes the curve and slowly pulls to a stop. The sirens on his cruiser give one last whoop before he shuts them off. The back of the beat up vintage blue Bronco gleams in the shine of his headlights. He sighs and shifts the car into park before he tips his radio towards his mouth and mumbles his whereabouts, informing Javy that he's making a traffic stop.

"10-4. Keep me updated."

He climbs out of the cruiser and makes his way towards the vehicle, keeping one thumb tucked into the front of his belt, fingers ready to reach for his gun in an instant. The diver hadn't given him any trouble thus far other than what he had pulled him over for— swerving all over the road, but Jake had been trained to err on the side of caution. He runs his finger tips over the tail light as he passes it by, a habit he had picked up from working alone.

For being such an old model, the car is in pretty decent shape. It has what appears to be brand new tires and the powder blue paint job has been restored to perfection. It was obviously well cared for. He wonders briefly the story behind it being as he doubts you could buy such a car these days. This was the kind of car that you handed down.

The window rolls down just as Jake approaches it.

"How's it goin' Officer?"

Jake blinks.

The driver is a younger guy, probably close to his own age— Jake likes to think that thirty-one is still plenty young— with shoulders so broad that it's a wonder he even fits in the front seat. His skin is a dark olive, which is pretty typical for someone who lives around here, but what catches Jake's attention the most is the perfectly groomed mustache the guy is sporting on his upper lip. It's thick and matches the caramel color of his otherwise brunette head of hair.

"Is there something wrong?"

The guy smiles and his dusty rose lips frame his perfectly aligned white teeth.

Jake tells himself it's his job to notice these kinds of things.

Jake clears his throat and leans in to peer into the cab of the truck, doing his best to avoid the lingering stare of the guy's warm hazel eyes. When he's satisfied that there's nothing worthy of his immediate attention in the car, Jake focuses back on him.

"Can I get your license and registration?"

It takes him a moment of fumbling around in his glove box and then his pocket, but he hands both documents over. The guy watches him so intently while Jake reads over them that it almost makes him uncomfortable, and he's glad for the excuse to look away.

"You had much to drink tonight, Bradley?" Jake asks as his eyes skim over the name. Bradley Peter Bradshaw. He almost laughs. If Jake didn't know better, he'd think it was a fake.

Jake knows the answer before he asks it but he figures he'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He doesn't necessarily reek of alcohol but Jake can defiantly pick up the fermented smell of yeast on his breath. If the guy hadn't been staring at him so intently and Jake could look at him for longer than two seconds, he's sure his pupils would be dilated as well.

"Just a little, Officer. I'm sobered up now."

Jake has to hold back his disbelieving snort. If he had a dime for every time he heard that, he'd be rich. "Well, Bradley. I find that a little hard to believe. You were all over this back road here. You know you're only supposed to drive on the right side, right?"

Bradley's mouth twitches, as if he found Jake's comment more amusing rather than condescending. "I didn't, but I'll sure take your word for it."

Jake, on the other hand, doesn't share his humor. "You seem like a funny guy, Bradley. But unfortunately, I don't find drunk driving to be very funny."

And then his eyes land on the emblem on Bradley's navy blue t-shirt—N.I.F.D. —the one his swollen biceps are nearly bursting out of.

"You work for North Island Fire Department?"

Jake watches as Bradley's slightly drunk grin widens. "I sure do."

Jake hands him back his license and the rest of his paperwork. "I've got a couple friends down at the station. You know Trace, Fitch?"

If his pupils weren't already blown wide, Jake would say they lit up in recognition. "Yeah, actually. Natasha is the one who got me the job there. I just finished a deployment out in the Pacific."

It's then that Jake notices the dog tags looped around his thick neck and hidden beneath his shirt. "You're enlisted," Jake says aloud, and then to conceal his surprise follows with, "I was too."

That's the kind of thing that you do when you're eighteen and more scared of not living than dying. If anything it was exciting. Anything that meant getting the hell out of Texas was exciting. He misses it now, but at the time when he was standing alone in that recruiters office, he didn't think for a moment that he would. He felt like a man.

The navy made him a man, is what his daddy said. It was probably one of the only times the old bastard ever told him he was proud of him, and the only time he didn't feel bad for making his mama cry.

The reason he got out was for the reason most do. You realize you don't stay twenty forever and life doesn't wait around until you figure that out. He didn't want to retire one day and have nothing to come home to but an empty apartment. San Diego seemed as good of a place to settle down as any.

Javy's voice crackles through on the radio strapped to his chest, breaking up their conversation.

"Unit-16. Checking in on your traffic stop. You need back-up?"

He hadn't realized they'd been talking so long. Jake mentally reprimands himself for getting distracted and picks up the radio while pressing it to his mouth. "This is Unit-16. No back-up necessary. Over."

"10-4. Over."

Jake releases the radio and looks back up to Bradley. Get back on task, Jake. Bradley smiles coyly at him. Jesus, focus, Jake.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out the vehicle."

The hopeful look in Bradley's big hazel eyes falters.

"Look, Officer uh— " The Bradley leans towards his open window so that he can squint at the gold engraved name plate on Jake's uniform. "—Seresin." Jake watches as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he cocks his head a little to the side and smiles, looking up at Jake. "You look good."

Oh. Oh.

That's what this is all about.

It's then that Jake realizes that this guy has been flirting him the entire time. He'll admit it's not the first time someone's hit on him while on the clock. Jake is aware he's an attractive guy, it's just that this is the first time he's been tasked with turning down at very handsome, drunk stranger. But drunk or not, the compliment makes his cheeks burn. Jake prays that the red and blue lights of his cruiser are enough to conceal the way his face flushes.

Ignoring him, Jake grabs the door handle of the Bronco and tugs it open. "C'mon, pal. Outta the car."

A little begrudgingly, Bradley slowly steps out of the car. Jake doesn't miss the way he grabs onto the door to steady himself.

Now that he's out of the car and in the beam of his headlights, Jake gets a good look at him. Bradley is over six feet of lean tan muscle. His long legs are encased in blue jeans that fit a bit too snug around his narrow waist, but from there he only gets wider all the way up to his shoulders. He's got some height on Jake and if he weren't in shape himself, Jake would probably be a little intimidated.

Jake steps up to him. "Go ahead and turn around for me. Put your hands flat on the hood."

For a moment Jake thinks he isn't going to listen, but then Bradley smirks a little and does as he's told. "Normally I'd ask you to buy me dinner first, but whatever you say, Officer."

This time Jake is glad that he's turned around. He steps forward and uses one of his feet to knock Bradley's legs a little further apart so that he can pat him down. He's not surprised to find that there's nothing on him, but he always has to check.

"Are you always this forward, Bradley? Or just when you're drunk?"

"No, sir," Bradley promises him, refusing to flinch even as Jake's hands come dangerously close to his crotch. "Just when the officer is nice to look at."

Jake pulls away as Bradley turns around. He specifically remembers telling him to keep his hands flat on the cruiser but Jake is getting the impression that Bradley doing something that could hurt either one of them isn't something he needs to worry about so he lets it go. Typically a stupid decision but he trusts his gut.

Bradley leans back just slightly to prop himself up against the car and crosses his arms in front of his chest while giving Jake a smile. His big brown eyes are warm and dopey, his smile impish.

"You gonna cut me some slack?" he asks.

Habitually, Jake curls his fingers through the front of his belt. The familiar weight of his kevlar vest is heavy and comforting and somehow he finds that it settles his fluttering heart in his chest.

"You know it's considered an offense to flirt with an officer?" Jake tells him, trying to remain professional and stand his ground. If his eyes drop to observe the way the other man's pecks fill out his t-shirt, that's his business.

Bradley smiles, ducking his head a little abashedly. Jake doesn't miss the way his teeth release the pout of his bottom lip. "Does that apply to when you're off duty as well?"

Jake pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from smiling. It's not funny, and he shouldn't be flattered by the advances of a drunk stranger but he is. And maybe he does have some sympathy for the guy. He knows what it's like coming back to the states and trying to adjust back to civilian life. But that doesn't mean that he's above the law.

"Bradley," he begins, his voice firm but sympathetic. "You know you can't be driving around like this. As much as I'd like to, I can't let you go."

As far as he's concerned, Bradley doesn't seem to be hearing him at all.

"Y'know, of all the places I imagined myself being handcuffed, none of them were in the back of a cop car."

"Jesus Christ," Jake mutters, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Really, he has no words. "Okay, that's enough," he announces, giving up on getting Bradley to actually take this seriously. "Turn around for me."

Smiling as if feeling a little too pleased with himself, Bradley obediently shuffles around so that Jake can then walk up behind him and clasp his wrists together. He uses his other hand to retrieve his cuffs from his belt and clips them on.

They're a little tight but that's only because Bradley's broad shoulders prevent his wrists from fully meeting, his shoulder blades seemingly obstructed by the wide expanse of his back.

Jake is definitely not staring. 

If the cuffs are uncomfortable, Bradley doesn't say anything, and Jake walks him by one of his elbows to the cruiser.

"Watch your head," Jake instructs him as he opens the door for Bradley to step in. It's a tight fit but somehow he manages, scooting over the seat until he's sat in the middle, his long legs spread to either side in order to accommodate them. The denim of his jeans strain at the awkwardness of the angle and gives Jake a front row view of the bugle of his crotch.

Jake clears his throat, looking away. If it were for the fact that he was drunk, Jake would say he's doing it on purpose.

Before Jake can shut the door and leave with what little is left of his self preservation, Bradley's voice stops him.

"Wait, what about my car?"

When Jake leans down to poke his head into the backseat of the cruiser, the look on Bradley's face is actually concerned. That's a first, Jake thinks. "I'll call someone to tow it. It'll be impounded until you can come and pick it up from the station." When the worry on Bradley's face only increases, his mustache emphasizing the action, he follows with, "They'll take good care of it for you, I promise."

Bradley's eyes flicker to the old Bronco anxiously. "It's just that it's my dad's car. He, um, he died when I was a kid. So, y'know..." he explains, trailing off.

Of fucking course it is.

Jake sighs, hangs his head in defeat for a second, and then looks back into the car at Bradley. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. Promise me we won't meet like this again and I won't have them tow your car. You can just come get it in the morning."

Bradley grins. "Well I'd certainly like to meet you under different circumstances."

Jake slams the door shut.

The drive back into town is quiet. When he glances at the clock on his dashboard, he realizes he only has about an hour left to his shift. As he pulls into the little suburban neighborhood, having memorized the address on Bradley's license, he glances into the backseat through his rear view mirror.

At first he thinks that Bradley's knocked out in the backseat, head lulled back as he breathes slow and steady, but then he sees the whites of his hazel eyes illuminated by the occasional red and blue flash of his overhead lights. Their gazes meet through the mirror and the corner of Bradleys mouth lifts up in a half drunk smile. Jake shifts his gaze away to instead peer at the numbers on the houses. Finally he finds the address he's looking for and slows the cruiser as he pulls into the driveway.

He brings the car to a stop and slides out of the driver's seat, walking around the car to open up the side door. Bradley stares at him quizzically from the backseat.

"C'mon, hop out before I change my mind," Jake prompts, gesturing with his head for Bradley to get a move on. The tall brunette climbs out with as much ease as one can muster in a pair of handcuffs before he's once again standing face to face with Jake.

He's on the downside of his drunken stupor, more sleepy than buzzed if his drooping eyelids are anything to go by. His mustache lifts as he smiles down at Jake. It's still ridiculous looking but it makes more sense now that Jake knows his occupation. It's the only type of facial hair that's considered to be within regs.

Jake clears his throat. "You want me to take those off?" he asks, motioning towards the cuffs holding Bradley's hands behind his back.

"I might do something stupid if you do."

Jake freezes. "What?"

Before he knows it Bradley's kissing him. He connects their mouths with surprising ease. It's so smooth and he moves relatively quickly for someone who's mildly intoxicated that Jake doesn't even see it coming. Between Jake's surprise and Bradley's lack of hands, they're a bit top heavy and Jake has to fist the front of Bradley's t-shirt, his back hitting the side of the cruiser, to keep them from toppling over.

Bradley's mouth is warm, his lips pliant and soft, but he's firm in the kiss, unrelenting in the way that Jake couldn't have pulled away even if he wanted to.

He doesn't want to— he does— but he doesn't want to.

When he comes to his senses, Jake flattens a palm against Bradley's chest and shoves him away. Immediately his chest aches at the distance. He stands there, still half shocked, with his palm holding Bradley away at arm's length.

Really, he's not too sure what to do in this situation.

Bradley’s hazel eyes shine in amusement. He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Again Jake clears his throat. "Ahem— um, glad you got that out of your system," he says with a pat to Bradley's chest. And before anything else can occur, he swiftly steps around the other man and uncuffs his wrists.

Bradley groans in relief, bringing his hands in front of him to rub at his sore wrists. “I think your bondage play needs some work. Not that I’m complaining—”

“Go inside. Get some sleep, Bradley.”

Taking the not so subtle hint, Bradley straightens and fixes Jake with a mocking salute before he turns and makes him way to the front porch. He watches as Bradley unlocks the front door and turns to give him one last look before he steps inside.

“Until next time, Officer Seresin.”

Jake just shakes his head in disapproval, but he can’t disguise his smile. “There better not be a next time,” he calls up the driveway.

He doesn’t pull out the driveway until Bradley’s shut the door and he sees the porch lights flicker off.

Maybe he does like the night shift.

[smalls-words]

Assessment

Summary: Natasha is assessed by her favourite doctor. Multiple times, unfortunately.

Pairing: Natasha x Fem!Doctor!Reader

Warnings: Blood, glass, Hulk. Nothing else, really.

A/N: This is my attempt at writing after spending countless hours with AI Natasha and avoiding my inbox :') for the fear of not answering everyone. Also, I'm dead tired so i'll come back and edit this in the morning/a later point in time. Maybe.

*gif not mine*

Amidst all the chaos of the Helicarrier being downed internally by an angered Hulk and a world-thirsty god with daddy issues, you were tidying up your medical room before you heard a knock on the door. 

“Assess her.” Fury asked as he closed the door behind Natasha. You were about to stand up before you noticed her body language - she was holding her arms together, her head slightly bowed down, and she shook ever so slightly. 

“Natasha…” You gently cooed, trying to get her attention.

She looked up at you jerkingly and you raised your hands, showing her that you meant her no harm. “It’s okay, angel. You’re with me, nobody else. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Natasha’s mind was soothed by the soft name you held for her, even when she had never thought it would be associated with her. She calmed down slightly at your soft tone, taking deep breaths before realising you had come close enough to put your hands on top of hers.

“Can I assess you?” You murmured, wanting to make sure she was alright.

“I have to get to Clint. I need to check if the mind control stopped properly.” She murmured back, trying to excuse herself but you grabbed her hand gently before she could shut the door behind her.

“Nat… Stay.” You whispered and smiled ever so softly, the gentleness in your eyes astounding to Natasha. Why would someone ever look at her with so much care and respect?

She sighed, letting the door close as she came to sit on the bed that you then stood by. “Fine. Assess me please, Y/N.” 

You nodded softly and prepared some gloves onto your hands after rolling up your sleeves. “Okay, Nat - where is it sore?”

Natasha didn’t want to answer that question. She hated being looked after, hated the attention, but at the same time, craved it like an alcoholic for the daily afternoon glass of wine. When your glove-covered hands came into her view, her eyes previously staring at the floor, she sighed again.

“Hulk backhanded me into a wall.” She muttered. “And I think I have some glass in my suit.” 

Your brows furrowed twice at her words, nodding gently. “Okay. Do you feel comfortable enough removing your suit top for me?”

Her head jolted up and you closed your eyes, stepping back. “I’m not here to hurt you, Natasha. I know your mind is fading between present and past, but I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving.” 

She took a few deep breaths and nodded, slowly unzipping the front of her suit before she unpeeled it from her body, including her arms. And in the softest voice ever, she murmured. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

When you opened your eyes, you were unsurprised by the sight of bruises on her right side and some glass just below the neckline of her suit - another reason you were thankful for the skin-tight suit. 

“What do you want me to treat first?” You asked. “Neck or bruises?”

“Neck, please.” She replied.

You grabbed a sterile set of tweezers and a bowl whilst setting up some sterilising alcohols for the wounds after. You carefully set about removing the eight pieces of glass, one even measuring almost a centimetre and she audibly winced for that one. 

“Done.” You whispered, putting down the shards of glass whilst grabbing your sterilising alcohol and applicators.

She winced at the stinging of the alcohol in her wounds, small droplets moving down her chest before you would wipe them up above her cleavage. Finally, you placed little dots of antiseptic cream and band-aids, smiling at your handiwork when you were done. 

“There we go. All better.” You chuckled quietly to yourself as you packed everything up. 

“We’re done?” Natasha asked.

“Yes, we are done… Agent Romanoff.” You sighed, turning around to find her gone. 

----

Later in the day, you found yourself packing up your workstation to head home on the last Quinjet to the Triskelion, until you heard another knock at the door.

“Fury, I told you, I’m not going to do that Coulson-” You cut yourself off at the state at which Natasha appeared in front of you.

Dust covered her body in different layers, blood dripping from her mouth and her head. Her body said exhausted in the loudest scream you had heard, as did her mind and soul, but she didn’t let it show. 

“Y/N… hey.” She winked.

“Natasha.” You stated, folding your arms whilst raising an eyebrow. “You are a reckless little redhead.” 

She chuckled sheepishly. “What can I say? It’s the agent in me.”

You sighed, looking at the time before slumping your bag down onto the floor. “Guess I’m sleeping over.” 

Natasha looked confused but you shook your head.” Don’t worry about it. Come here.” 

She waltzed over and sat on your desk, dust shaking off of her slightly. She looked proud of herself as she folded her leg over the other, grinning at you. “What are you planning to do?”

You stood and walked over to your drawer of trinkets. “I’m going to fix you.” 

She lifted an eyebrow. “Fix me?”

You sighed, evidently tired. “Your head? Your lip? And I can't even imagine what that bruise looks like now.” 

She looked like a kicked puppy at your tired tone, her bouncy playfulness slowly diminishing. “Oh. Yeah, forgot about that.” 

You sighed again, yet Natasha was happy to hear the apologetic tone to it. You walked over with a bunch of butterfly strips and stuff similar to what you had earlier in the day. “Suit top off, please.” 

Natasha smirked. “Usually I get asked out on a date first, but okay.” 

“You didn’t seem so quippy earlier. Feeling better, are you?” You asked with your own smirk.

“I was a little bit out of it earlier. Plus, I’m on a battle winning high right now.” She chuckled.

You looked at her with a gentle smile as you began to clean her face with general wipes, getting rid of the dust as much as possible before going to clean up the blood. However, beneath you, the agent was watching you intently.

Simply through your eyes, she could tell you truly cared for her. The nights she had laid awake, unable to sleep? You seemed to be drawn to that, knocking on her bedroom door and asking if she wanted company. 

Obviously, she did. But maybe it wasn’t quite as obvious as she thought.

“You said you were sleeping over - what did you mean?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I missed the last transport Quinjet out for the night when you knocked on my door, so I can’t get home tonight.” You answered, getting a Q-tip to wipe up the next bit of blood.

“Oh. Really?” She looked confused. “I can fly you home if you want.” 

You looked at her incredulously. “You are in no condition to pilot anything. I suspect a concussion, possibly a broken rib and a busted lip. I think I would rather take my chances with Stark.” 

She chuckled at that little ramble of yours, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She noticed the shirt you were wearing and a split second later, how close you were to her. Yet, when she tried to lean back, you grunted in annoyance. 

“Don’t.” You warned her shortly. 

She jolted to a grinding halt, keeping her entire body still except her fidgeting hands. You noticed, smirking to yourself, before you felt her hands being placed on your waist. 

“Natasha…” You raised an eyebrow and looked at her through the gap between your chest and her eyes.

“What? You’re warm and my hands are cold.” She shrugged, smirking slightly as her hands went underneath your shirt. 

You flinched at the coldness of her fingertips. “At least you’re not lying about that.” 

She chuckled.” I don’t lie to you, malysh… Not often, at least.” 

You humphed. “Mhm. I know.” 

She chuckled again at your expression, your pursed lips nodding with your head. Eventually, as you worked, Natasha was about to lean her head on your chest until you stepped back to grab a new Q-tip.

When you came back to her, she watched your eyes focus narrowly on her lip and begin to sterilise it. “Alongside this, I’m going to give you a balm to put on your lips to help it heal.” 

“Okay.” She muttered, her eyes eventually ignoring the ‘fascinating’ ceiling and floor tiles to look into your eyes. 

And all of a sudden… you could feel her relax. And you smiled. 

“What?” She asked.

“You’re relaxed.” You stated, putting on a teasing smirk. “About time.” 

She rolled her eyes playfully, her hands still under your shirt and gently beginning to rub circles on your skin. You weren’t phased by it, either - Natasha took note of that as she pulled you in closer. 

“I’m tired.” She whined grumpily, listening to you chuckle.

“I know you are, bambina, but I have to finish this.” You cooed softly.

When Natasha began to close her eyes, content at holding you close to her whilst you cared for her, you smiled gently. “Is somebody ready for bed?”

She jolted awake, shaking her head away from your chest. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” 

As you stepped away to tidy up, the slip of her hands over your jeans’ waist hem made a slight slap against your skin. Natasha watched you tidy quickly but precisely and then grabbed your bag before you could. 

“Let’s go.” She slung your bag over her shoulder and took your hand, leading you to a Quinjet.

----

You were a diligent and perfect passenger to Natasha, keeping quiet to let her do her work and land in a field near your apartment complex. She watched you buzz in your code and followed you up the stairs, getting a nice view from behind before you led her into the apartment loft. 

“Nice place.” She chuckled.

“Thanks.” You yawned, pointing to a chair in the kitchen. “You can put my bag there.”

She did so, and inspected your apartment further. There was a comfortable lounge area hidden beneath the staircase and subsequently, your bed and bathroom, whilst there was a fireplace to the right and a balcony to the left.

“Wow.” She muttered to herself before she saw you moving to the lounge, the couch turning into a beautiful pull-out rather than a crappy motel one, with sheets already fitted.

“There’s pillows and blankets in there.” You pointed to a cabinet underneath the staircase.

“Will I find a little boy in there too?” Natasha quipped, making you chuckle. 

“Hopefully not. I’m going to go to bed now, so make yourself comfortable.” You murmured. 

She listened as you made your way upstairs, shuffled into bed and began to breathe evenly. Natasha smiled to herself and set up her bed just how she liked it before falling asleep herself. 

Yet, her mind did not give her the same peace yours did. 

A few hours later, she jolted out of the bed, her fleeting memory of the dream having Hulk’s hand smack her across the face - which would have happened fourteen hours ago had Thor not intervened. 

She shook in her bed as the sweat from the night had made her sheets ice cold, debating to turn the fireplace on before she remembered - her hands had warmed almost instantaneously on your skin a few hours ago. 

What if…?

Her feet pattered against the stairs bolted into the wall and she found you sleeping peacefully with your sheets wrapped around you. As she moved to stand at the foot of your bed, she could almost feel the warmth radiating off of you.

“Y/N…” She muttered, just loud enough to stir you and open your eyes.

“Nat?” You murmured.

“I… I had a bad dream about today. And now my sheets are freezing.” She excused, her hands fidgeting. 

You frowned softly before shaking your head and opening the cocoon around you, expelling a wave of warmth over Natasha that pushed her over the edge of temptation. She climbed into the bed and sighed happily at the warmth, surprised when you wrapped your arms around her. 

“Nightmares are not fun.” You whispered, holding her close but not tight.

She nodded and leaned her head onto your shoulder, almost nuzzling into you like a cat, trying to soak up your warmth. “Mm-mm.” 

She could hear you falling asleep before she moved her hands back underneath your shirt, surprised to feel only the line of your underwear. “No pants? My my, how you tempt me.” 

“Don’t make me kick you out, pervy.” You warned her playfully.

She chuckled and shook her head, intertwining her legs with yours. She sighed, beginning to fall asleep herself.

“Thank you for today.” 

You hummed quietly and kissed the skin of her neck. “You’re welcome, bambina. Now sleep. Your concussion needs it.” 

She nodded, a small blush on her cheeks at the feeling of your lips on her skin and the nickname again. “Okay. Goodnight, malysh.”

“Goodnight, Natty.” 

Well, that one was new. 

[c2-eh]

I just had a charlos thought (prompt maybe??) Charles writing things about Carlos in his note book, and then losing said notebook which results in a mini breakdown because he HAS to find it before anyone reads it and he’s freaking out but he can’t tell anyone why he’s freaking out either, everyone’s searching for the note book which causes him more stress, Carlos ends up finding it but doesn’t read it but Charles thinks he has

oh god this has been in my inbox for A YEAR and i randomly found it now... idek if you still follow me anon or if you even care about charlos (you should they are fruity and in love!), but i come with 2k as compensation <3 it was funnn to write this! enjoyyyy luvs! <3

Charles is freaking out. Rightfully, if he were to say so himself, as he just lost a very important thing in his life.

The whole garage of his is up and on their feet, trying their best to find an A4 blue notebook that is filled with details about Charles’ life – mostly racing, because Charles’ life is racing, racing and racing again, so it made sense to do that.

And well, that’s what he told everyone. Acted like the said notebook only holds the racing knowledge like data, strategies, technical stuff, Charles’ feelings about the car, possible improvements and such things. It is half true, however, not the full truth. Not in the slightest.

No one knows why he is freaking out so much. Only Andrea. And Joris. And Antoine. Because Charles can’t keep his fucking mouth shut about anything, ever.

The tell-tale rapid breathing of his was a hint Charles should calm down and not overthink this, but the fact he couldn’t reveal why the search was so urgent, made him lose a bit of sanity each time someone approached him a question about why it was so important.

Racing is important, was be his answer, but no one actually believed him, because everyone knows Charles holds all the information in his mind. The notebook is just a help. A boost if you may. He lives and breathes racing and he would think back to the imperfections (or the perfections, but there’s not many currently) on the whim.

Charles was surprised and wondered why no one seemed to be disturbed by the fact he insisted and nearly shouted at everyone that if they were to find the notebook, they could never ever open it, no matter what. He could blame it on wanting a privacy, but why would you need that big of a privacy from your team, if the things in the notebook were about the data the said team has?

“Nothing?” Charles asked in dejected voice after around 2 and half hours of searching. One look at his mechanics’ faces and he did not really need a vocal answer. He sighed and thanked everyone for their effort, sending them off in the process, retracting to his room with his head hung low.

It’s not like Charles was drawing his and Carlos’ initials in hearts into the notebook, no, but there were some things that would easily reveal his true feelings towards his teammate and he couldn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t be able to swallow down the rejection – Carlos’ big brown eyes so apologetic, feeling sorry for him and just because Carlos is such a good guy, he would try to force himself to like Charles just to make him happy.

Only if that was actually possible, Charles thinks and scoffs, the sound echoing around the hall.

Charles loves Carlos. It took him a long time to come into terms with it and it was honestly a big messy battle within him – one of his heart and brain and probably dick too – which in the end his heart won, no matter how much his brain tried (did it?) to resist the feelings.

Charles returned back to his driver’s room, his mood still sulky. He was slowly losing hope, but at the same time gaining it, because if his notebook got lost somewhere no one could find, then it meant Carlos couldn't either. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Charles’ brain was determined to convince him that was the case (or maybe it was Charles himself trying so hard to not get his feeling revealed to avoid the hurting).

---

Back in his hotel room, Charles still feels a bit down and paranoid, but it quickly disappears once he settles deep into his bath. Hot water sooths his muscles and he sighs – for the hundredth time today.

The rest of his evening routine passes by quickly and just as he’s about to climb into his bed, his face moisturized and hair washed, someone knocks on his door.

It’s Carlos. Looking better than ever.

Charles’ breath hitches when he opens the door, but he plays it off with a cough. He curses himself for not checking who it was before. His teammate looks sheepish, shy even, with how he’s looking at Charles with his big brown eyes. However, once Charles sees what Carlos is holding in his hand, he is done studying Carlos’ handsome face. His breath quickens and suddenly he feels like suffocating.

“What is that,” he says, voice flat. His eyes are zeroed on the A4 blue notebook filled with his handwriting talking about Carlos, his hands, hair, nose, eyes, and… Fuck.

How fucking stupid was he to write it into his work notebook? Charles needs to not be close to that thing during boring meetings ever again.

“Wow, I at least expected a simple ‘hello’,” Carlos chuckles and Charles can’t even appreciate the sound now. He only frowns and misses the way Carlos’ face drops.

“Carlos,” he warns firmly and then, without thinking, snatches the notebook from his hand, not caring it’s rude, nor that he still did not invite Carlos into his room. He immediately checks it, listing through the pages to make sure everything is intact.

Once he is sure, he takes a deep breath and turns back towards Carlos that is now standing in the middle of his room, the door behind him closed shut.

Carlos is looking at him – studying him, his expression scrutinizing – as if Charles turned into alien or something. His brows are slightly furrowed and his full pink lips are downturned. Oh no.

“Care to explain what the fuck was that?” Carlos asks, crossing his arms on his chest. And Charles is not the God’s strongest soldier. His eyes fly over Carlos’ whole body, eyes stopping on his bulging biceps, before he snaps out of it.

Out of nowhere, Charles’ blood starts to boil. Why is this man acting like Charles is stupid?

“Oh don’t act innocent, I know you did it,” Charles scoffs and clutches the notebook close to his chest. He’s never ever leaving it out there in the open.

Carlos looks confused and Charles is momentary startled. He shakes his head. No, he definitely did, he wouldn’t look so guilty other way.

“I am truly confused, Charles. Can you please talk to me and explain what’s going on?” oh and if Charles does not hate when Carlos is calm and rational, all while Charles is losing his mind.

He rolls his eyes – over exaggerating it.

“I know you read it. The notebook,” he says, his tone harsh, "everyone would, because that’s who we are. It is in our nature to be curious and do something we would perhaps regret later, but also never admit to. You read my notebook. Or maybe even took a peak.”

Charles chances a glance at Carlos and he doesn’t look confused anymore, no. More like a little hurt, but also amused, which Charles thinks is the worst combination ever. Partly because how the fuck is it possible to have 2 contradicting emotions battling on your face, but mostly because what is Carlos hurt for?

“The curiosity got the best of you, yeah yeah, do not even apologise, I know it all. We’ve all been there,” Charles waves his hand, but he can feel his throat tightening and he mentally curses himself.

“I didn’t-“ Carlos starts, but then shuts his mouth and waits. Charles finds it weird. Guess he gave up on the excuses.

Charles sighs, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, but to no avail, “just leave it. I know you don’t love me back, so there is no need to feel bad for me. God knows I am fed up with that sentiment,” he says and throws the notebook on his bed, turning away from Carlos, “can you just forget it and go now?”

It’s quiet, eerily. Charles is not sure if it has been minutes or hours, nor if Carlos is still there.

“Charles,” Carlos’ voice suddenly sounds way closer than before, “Charles,” he repeats, firmer now and he has no choice, but to turn to face his teammate.

Looking up into those eyes should come with a warning.

“I did not read your notebook. I really didn’t. I found it under the counter where you keep your helmets, when I was tying my shoes. I did not give it to you, because you were not in the garage, so I took it into my room. I wanted to give it to you in person, in case someone would be a jerk enough to read someone’s personal stuff,” Carlos says, emphasising the last part of the sentence.

Great, it’s safe to say Charles feels like shit now.

“Oh,” he says, averting his eyes, “so you really didn’t read it,” it’s phrased like a declarative sentence, not a question.

Carlos shakes his head still, which Charles can only see from his peripheral vision.  He feels like dying because… because he just confessed without a need to do so. He's so stupid.

Big warm hands land on Charles’ cheeks and he has no choice, but to look back on Carlos’ handsome face, “can you tell me more about the love you mentioned?”

“No,” Charles whines automatically and Carlos has a nerve to chuckle. Charles’ head thunks against Carlos’ shoulder and he immediately feels Carlos’ hand in his hair.

“It’s okay,” Carlos whispers and Charles feels like crying, because here it is. The pity, the rejection he was so afraid of- “I love you too.”

Charles giggles and nuzzles his nose into Carlos’ neck. He stays there, breathing in Carlos’ scent when he suddenly realizes what the fuck he just said.

“What?” he abruptly moves away, almost shouting.

Carlos looks smug, with the slight smirk playing on his lips, but his eyes look soft. So soft and earnest Charles feels like his knees will give out from under him. It is all it takes to believe him, because he knows Carlos. He knows Carlos shows emotions through his eyes more than anyone else, because he’s seen it so many times it is integrated in his brain.

“You heard me,” he says and his smiles transforms from smug to soft and Charles launches.

Their lips crash and Charles puts every drop of his willpower into keeping himself on the ground and not climbing Carlos like a tree.

Kissing Carlos does not feel like anything he’s dreamed of, because nothing of sorts can compare to the real thing. Carlos starts slow, with careful closed mouth kisses that after a while start to frustrate Charles. He whines, to voice out his displeasure.

Carlos gets the memo and finally starts kissing him and Charles finds himself on cloud nine. He’s turned breathless as Carlos goes from slow, to vigorous open mouthed kisses, his tongue prodding at Charles’ lips to let him in. Charles moans, loudly, into Carlos’ mouth, sending a message of how much he’s loving it.

The tips of Carlos’ fingers run down Charles’ spine and a whimper falls from Charles’ mouth once Carlos grabs his ass, squeezing it. The action brings Charles closer. So close he can feel the outline of Carlos’ dick against his hip.

“Carlos,” he whimpers, his own hard dick rubbing against Carlos, “I need you.”

“Let’s take this to the bed, cariño,” Carlos breathes out, guiding Charles there before he was even done speaking.

Later, when they are lying in his bed, Charles’ head pillowed on Carlos’ shoulder, does Charles finally feel fully relaxed. Looking up at Carlos’ freckled face, his strong nose and big plump lips brings a strange sense of happiness and comfort to Charles.

(What doesn’t bring comfort, is the drying cum on his ass and thighs, but he is content enough to ignore it and stay in Carlos’ arms. For now).

“Why did you look so guilty on my doorstep?” Charles asks, not able to help himself. He needs to know, because the only explanation his brain could come up with back then was ‘Carlos is guilty’, which apparently was not true.

Carlos sighs, his fingertips slowing down their tracing on Charles’ back, “I know you were looking for your journal. Ricky messaged me.”

Charles is confused, “and?”

Charles giggles, the sound coming out of his mouth freely. Carlos kisses his forehead and Charles brings his hand up to Carlos’ jaw to caress it. He kisses his nose in return, then cheek and then finally his mouth.

“I could have given it to you back then or send it through someone. I was not back here yet,” he pauses and Charles says nothing. Leaving him space to continue whenever he wants, “but I was selfish. I wanted to give it back to you in private. I don’t really know why, “he resumes his stroking, his voice getting quieter, “perhaps I wanted an excuse to be with you alone.”

“I’m glad you did.”

[leviathans-watching]

could u pls write the brothers x a reader who dropped out of school/college? having a rly hard time rn and i could use the comfort, tysm <3

having a hard time in the human realm

includes: brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list

warnings: crying, breakdowns, implied depression

a/n: i'm sorry you're having a hard time :(( i wish you all the best and lots of love and comfort. hope this helps! my inbox is open to chat, request, or leave feedback!

mammon exchanges worried looks with asmo when there’s no response when he knocks on the door to your apartment. it had been nearly three months since you’d returned to the human realm and since you’d first separated, you hadn’t missed a single weekly call. until tonight, that is.

and combine that with the fact that you weren’t responding to anyone, weren’t active on any social media, and now weren’t answering your door… mammon’s getting seriously concerned.

“let’s break in,” belphie says, and it’s a testament to how worried lucifer is that he agrees.

“i can pick locks, hold on,” asmo says, dropping to his knees and pulling a bobby pin out of his pocket. man, lucifer must be really worried if he’s not even remarking on this!

a moment passes, and then asmo pushes the door open, rising back to his feet. he leads the way into your apartment, and mammon takes in the dark interior. it’s messy and cluttered, a far cry from the neat and tidy room you’d kept at the house of lamentation, and it’s also silent.

lucifer takes the helm then, moving through your living room. mammon can see a dim kitchen with piled-up dishes, and then gets distracted by another door. presumably the door to your room.

mammon knocks on that one, then opens it. like the rest of the apartment, the room is dark, with thick curtains pulled over the window. mammon steps over the clothes all over the floor, towards your bed, which is messy with sheets and blankets piled up.

but thankfully, there’s a person there too. mammon puts a hand on your shoulder, grateful he can see the rise and fall of your chest. so, at least you’re still alive?

shaking you gently, mammon waits for you to wake. his brothers crowd the bed around him, but stay quiet.

with a gasp, you sit up, looking around wildly. “w-what?”

“it’s just us, mc,” beel says soothingly, and you calm slightly, then squint, confused.

“what are you doing here?”

“we were worried,” levi volunteers. “you weren’t answering your ddd and missed dour call.”

“oh,” you say slowly, probably still waking up. “that was today? i’m sorry, i’ve just been really…busy. and wait, you guys decided to break into my apartment?”

“busy?” says lucifer, dodging the accusation question. “with school?”

you look to the side shiftily, and mammon’s glad his eyes can see well enough in the dark where a human would struggle. “something like that.”

“cut the crap,” asmo says suddenly. “what’s going on, mc?”

without warning, tears well up in your eyes. “i’m sorry,” you say miserably, scrubbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.”

mammon wraps an arm around your shoulders (were they always this fragile feeling?), and pulls you to his chest. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just so hard!” you say after a breath. “i miss you guys so much. every day. it feels like a piece of me is missing. and as hard as it was to adjust to the devildom it’s even harder re-adjusting now. i miss the house of lamentation and being at rad and all of you. i can’t do this.”

“i had no idea you were feeling this way,” lucifer says quietly, guiltily. mammon feels the same way. how had he not noticed you were hurting?

“i stopped going to my classes,” you continue, a sob ripping free. “there’s no way i can get any credits for this semester. i want to go home.”

mammon locks eyes with his brothers. there’s no way they’re leaving you here tonight.

“let’s take you home, then,” he says, and you blink up at him.

“wait, really?”

“there’s no rule saying you can’t come back,” lucifer says. “i thought that’s what you wanted. after all, you were only supposed to be an exchange student after all. but if we had had any idea of how much this would have hurt you, diavolo and i would have never let you leave. so yes, let’s go home.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[silhouetteonpaper]

The Right Path

Summary: When a new opportunity is handed to you, the decision between Avenging or choosing a new path weighs on you. But there’s a matter even more pressing than what you want; what will the team think? Wanda Maximoff x Reader WC: 1,711 Warnings: None

The Right Path

The email sitting unread at the top of your inbox makes your heart skip a beat. You’ve been waiting months to hear back from the one college you applied to, and finally the answer that decides your future sits waiting to be opened.

New Status Changes To Your New York City College Application, the subject line reads. Holding your breath, you click it. Your lungs burn as the email’s contents forces you to log into the college portal to see the application’s status. The formal letter opens, your eyes scanning the message. Many applicants this year… wanting students that excel… we are pleased to accept your application!

You nearly fall off of your desk chair at the sight of getting accepted into your dream school. Studying your favorite subjects, making new friends, adventuring into the city as a student, it all filled you with excitement.

As much as you love being an Avenger, you’re one of the youngest and have been longing for that last taste of adolescence. You’ve always wanted to go to college, but it was hard to say if that’d ever be a possibility. After finishing high school you took a year off and became an Avenger full time, but you never felt like it was the right life for you.

Sure you’re a great asset to the team, but you have no doubt they can handle themselves if you decide to take a different path. At least you hope, now dreading the idea of telling them you got into your dream school.

What if they force you to stay on the team? What if they don’t think it’s safe to go back to school? A cascade of anxiety spins in your mind, making you suddenly doubt your own choices. But there’s no time to worry as Tony calls an important meeting, leaving you to shut your computer and head to the conference room.

The soft smiles of your friends greet you as you sit in one of the various office chairs around the large table. Caught in between Natasha and Wanda, you turn your attention to Tony at the head of the room.

You can feel Wanda’s eyes burning into you, making you shift in your seat as her gaze seems fixated on your expression. Trying to hide any of your previous worried thoughts, you fully focus in on the meeting.

Tony drones on about mission reports, the usual debrief banter, eventually moving onto future planning. “Captain, you’re still good for that July mission down east? We’ll get you a place with a pool and everything,” Tony teases, soon turning his attention to you. “And I have you down for an international stakeout in August, are you free for that?”

You freeze, knowing college would start in August. Now’s your chance to tell everyone, but for some reason you just can’t do it. Your mouth opens, but the wrong words come out. “Yeah, sounds good,” Is all you can manage to say. Dammit.

Wanda’s eyes continue to stick to you until she’s addressed, leaving you to sink a little further into your chair. You just made a huge mistake: committing to a government level mission when you’d rather go to college. There’s no turning back now.

As the meeting comes to a close you’re quick to stand and head towards the door, but not before a certain strawberry blonde gets in your way. “Everything okay?” Wanda questions after stepping in front of you. Trying to make the best eye contact possible, you nod.

“Everything’s great.” You lie, offering a smile and praying she isn’t reading your mind. Wanda returns the nod slowly, stepping aside to let you go. Exhaling with relief, you move on with your day and hope things work themselves out.

A few days pass and you’re back in the conference room, ready to give a presentation on your specific findings and analysis from a past mission. After plugging in your laptop to the large screen and pulling up your slide deck, you’re ready to begin.

“Alright, so in Prague we found the same toxins used in that unknown chemical compound from the lab in Austria,” You explain to the group. “We know they have to be linked not only from their similar structures, but also from the clues leading the two organizations together.”

You tap to the next slide, a few diagrams of similar chemical compounds now displaying. “The isotopes here have similarities in their parent isotope when we put the two side by-“ Your explanation is cut short by a ding. Quickly looking up to the corner of your screen, you see a new email notification has come through. Once again forgetting to put your computer on Do Not Disturb, the entire room can see the subject line.

Make A Decision On Your NYCC Application is splayed in large letters. You quickly clear your throat and move on, continuing from where you left off in hopes no one noticed. “It’s interesting to see how these two structures could be so similarly multi-faceted when created under different organizations,” You move on to the next slide.

Suddenly, a voice interrupts before you can continue. “What’s interesting is New York City College sending you emails about an application,” Tony comments. The entire group’s attention is now solely focused on the email, the isotopes no longer of any interest.

You exchange a glance with your laptop, sighing as you realize there’s no way out of this. “I got accepted.” You state blatantly, an unimpressed expression on your face. Your nerves turn to confusion when the entire team lights up with joy.

“That's amazing!” Wanda exclaims with raised eyebrows. Everyone adds in a few words of celebration before their further questioning. “Why aren’t you excited?” She inquiries.

You take a deep breath, now fully pulling yourself out of presentation mode. “I am, but I don’t know if I’m going to go,” you say admittedly. It feels wrong to leave the Avengers, especially after all they’ve done for you. But college is your dream, is there a right choice here?

“Why wouldn’t you? That’s an incredible opportunity,” Wanda expresses. You furrow your brows in confusion. She isn’t mad? Now looking across the table, you see that none of the Avengers are. Do they know I’d have to choose school over Avenging? You ask yourself, a bit surprised to see their eagerness over the news.

“I… I’ll have to leave the team if I choose to go,” You explain with a concerned expression. Those seated around the table exchange knowing looks, a few more obvious with their smiling faces.

“If it’s what you want,” Wanda shrugs, “you should go for it.” You look back to the floor, trying to process their reaction. No one is mad, no one is making a decision for you, it’s fully up to you. And if you had to pick between the two, you know exactly which one you’d choose.

“I really want to go to college. But… you guys aren’t disappointed?” You ask, just in case they were hiding some deep disagreement for the path you wanted to take. A few of the heroes shook their heads.

“Not at all. If anything I’m proud of you for choosing the right path for yourself.” Wanda comments. She can still sense your weariness though, and offers a few more words of consolation, “You’re an amazing addition to the team, so I’ll be sad to see you go. But I know you’ll do great things out there in the world.”

You smile while meeting her gaze, her words instilling some confidence in you. “I know it’s not as cool as saving the world… but yeah, I think college will be great for me.” You add while the entire team nods in agreement. Although it wasn’t clear at first, you’re now sure this decision is the right one.

August quickly approaches, and luckily a team of SHIELD agents happily takes over your assigned mission. None of the Avengers wanted to miss the special day: your move into college.

A few duffel bags full of your belongings are piled into the back of the SUV parked out front of your dorm building. Sam and Steve run back and forth, hauling your bags up and down the stairwell to your new room. Steve even sports a blue NYCC baseball cap as his way of showing school spirit.

The room isn’t anything special, just an average college dorm that lacks interior design. Tony’s unimpressed, but he’s not the one who has to live here. You don’t mind, already eager to unpack your belongings and settle in.

“You know, you can still stay at the compound if you want. I can have you driven to class every single day,” Tony offers as he swipes his finger across the dusty desk. You shake your head with a chuckle, perfectly content in this new space.

“Thanks, Tony. But this is where I want to be,” You respond with an affirming smile. Steve slaps Tony on the back playfully, placing his blue NYCC cap onto the billionaire's head. The team takes turns saying their goodbyes, soon leaving only you and Wanda to part ways. She looks at you with pride, but also with sadness.

“Are you crying?” You ask as her teary eyes become more clear. She laughs and tries to blink them away, but there’s no use as full tears begin to shed. Wanda moves forward to hug you, the embrace lasting for quite some time.

“You’re going to do great. And if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call, alright?” She voices as you both pull from the hug. You nod, now matching her teary eyes. You’re confident in her words, this is what you’ve dreamed of and it’s finally coming true.

As Wanda exits the room along with the rest of the team, you can’t help but let a few tears fall. You know you’ll miss them, but more than that you know this will be the best experience of your life. 

So as you watch the SUV pull out of the parking lot with one less passenger, your heart soars knowing a team of mighty heroes will always be there to support every path you choose to take in life.

[hederasgarden]

In honour of your newfound love for Clark Kent, can I please ask you about our man in question and his size kink?

Summary: Clark shows you how much he loves you and your body. Pairing: Clark Kent  x Plus Size!F!Reader  Word Count: 800 Warning: 18+ only, explicit sexual content. Unprotected PIV, size kink, discussions of body insecurity, fluff, and mentions of future pregnancy. A/N: Thank you @ryebecca for holding my hand through this! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Tonight Clark has you on your hands and knees while his large hands frame your hips. You drop your head and pant as he slowly works himself inside, anticipation curling in your belly. Every time feels like the first, your body fighting to let him in even when you desperately want him. 

"That's it," he praises, kissing your shoulder. "You're doing so good for me, sweet girl."

You groan in response, fingers grasping the bedsheets desperately until finally, his body is flush with yours. It’s almost too much and you shift back seeking relief, but Clark stills your movement. You glance over your shoulder, with a questioning look. 

"I want you to watch yourself," he whispers.

You freeze, a trickle of unease snaking down your spine. Even though he’s never questioned why you keep the lights low, you know Clark understands the reason. You’re uncomfortable seeing yourself like this; it stirs up long-buried insecurities you’ve never voiced for fear he might finally see all the ugly flaws you try to hide.

His name escapes your lips as a strained plea that he’s quick to answer with a tender, reassuring look. You feel an answering tug in your chest, and your resistance melts away. You’d do anything he asked when he looked at you like that – even this. 

A quiet exhale from you is the sign he needs to guide you to meet his gaze through the full-length mirror in the corner. In the soft, muted light of your bedroom, he seems even larger behind you, the outline of his body merging with the shadows. Your eyes linger on the way his fingertips span the length of your jaw as he cradles your face. 

Before Clark, you never felt small. You were always keenly aware of your weight compared to past boyfriends and how different your body looked from the images in magazines. For years, you hid behind flowing dresses and loose clothing, trying to make yourself less and blend into the background. But now, there’s nowhere to hide. You’re exposed and vulnerable, the layers of your self-protection stripped away.

"I want you to see what I see," Clark continues, wrapping a thick arm around your middle to haul you back against him.

The movement pushes him deeper, and your lashes flutter. A coarse, calloused hand glides down the swell of your stomach, dipping to tease your bundle of nerves, while the other cups one of your breasts. He chains kisses along your throat, and your head lolls to the side, watching the mirror through half-lidded eyes.  

“I love every part of you. From these thick thighs,” he murmurs, gently caressing the expanse of skin, “to your beautiful belly that will carry our child one day.”

“Clark…” You shift in his arms, overwhelmed and embarrassed, but he doesn’t let you move.

He tsks, a warm puff of breath teasing the shell of your ear. “I’m not done.” 

He rocks into you with a shallow thrust. There’s hardly anywhere to go but he manages to find the space, stealing your breath. He continues to speak, his gravelly voice washing over you in waves, while his fingers move in slow, teasing circles over your clit. Pleasure builds at the base of your spine, suffusing your body with warmth and want. 

“I think about this all the time,” he groans, grasping your hips and urging you to move. “You’re built to take me,” he praises. “Don’t you see?”

His words draw your focus back to the mirror. Bathed in the soft, flickering candlelight and enveloped in a haze of desire, you find yourself mesmerized by your reflection and the way Clark moves your body with ease. In his arms, you look delicate and vulnerable — fragile. 

His breath falls hotly against your skin when he speaks. "I love all of this, do you know that?" 

A wave of pleasure surges through you, overwhelming your senses. It’s only Clark’s strong hand on your jaw that keeps you from turning away from the scene before you. He comes first, his pale pink lips parting with a shuddery breath as his hips lose their rhythm. The hot, sweet rush of his release filling you up is enough to tip you over the edge.

You lean back into Clark, feeling the gentle tickle of his chest hairs against your skin. He runs a soothing hand up your side as you work to steady your breathing. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, turning to share a deep, tender kiss. 

He grins, cheeks dimpling. “I love you.”

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[dailyadventureprompts]

The Daily Adventure Prompts Masterpost

After several years of running this blog, it’s become more and more evident that I need some central reference where people can access all my different DM advice posts, important tags, and ongoing series. Sharing my ideas with people and helping to improve the art and craft of being a dungeonmaster was always the point of DAP after all, and its of no help to anyone if the answers to important questions are buried under a hundred or more pages of my rambling.

To that end, I present this post as an ever expanding catalogue of my thoughts. Something that you can page through at your leisure in hopes some of my hardwon lessons will be of use to you.  

DM Advice: The go-to tag for all my rambling on how to improve your d&d game, with some highlights presented here,

My Process

Getting Organized

Basics of Campaign writing

Railroading & Rollercoasters

The “more than you can chew” universal d&d story structure

Ghosts on the Horizon: not getting bogged down with overplanning

Mapmaking 101

Writer’s Block

Better Random Encounters

Better Loredumps and Exposition

Writing Adventures to Make your party care about your world

Series of Interest

The DM Starterpack: Focused on first timers or those who want to re-learn d&d from the ground up this series of posts is intended to give you an idea how to come up with a campaign concept, write a first adventure, run a session zero, and slowly pivot into running a larger campaign.

Tableskills: While a lot of my work focuses on how you can write better stories, these posts talk about being a better storyteller focusing in on the performance art of DMing.

Mechanics: On the flipside, sometimes you need to put on your game designer hat and focus in on ways to make the underlying engine of the game run more smoothly to better facilitate fun and storytelling.

How to Run...: there are certain types of adventure that need more thought put into them then the average monsterhunt or dungeon delve, and so I wrote a series of articles to not only help you write/design them but to pull them off at your table.

Wilderness Exploration

Heists

Naval Combat

Infiltrating a fancy party

Mystery

Airship Adventures

Political Intrigue

Mythology style epic labours

The Loot Overhaul: A series of posts where I focus in on different aspects of d&d’s treasure and item

An overhaul to player wealth & The Economy

Better Loot & Treasure Hoard generation

A case for magic item shops & Item focused treasure hauls

Shopping trips & Group Inventory Management

Making Identifying & Attuning to Items interesting

Crafting Overhaul pt 1: Weapons & Armour

Crafting Overhaul pt 2: Magic & Consumables

Monsters Reimagined: My ongoing delve into d&d’s bad monster lore and how it can be improved. Sometimes it’s because a cool monster is just underwritten, sometimes its because how they’re used in the narrative just doesn’t make sense, sometimes its because there’s decades or even centuries old pro-genocide talking points that we need to unpack.

Footnotes on Foes: For those topics that don’t warrant a full “monsters reimagined” but I still want to give my take on. Fun stuff in there, especially with lesser known monsters that could use a revamp.  

Heavy Topics: Where I deepdrive on the nuance of particular topics, ranging from uncomfortable touchstones in history that are important to my writing to sensitive subjects that you’ll want to discuss with others around your table.

Bad Opinions: Sometimes a take so awful lands in my inbox that I need to hold it up infront of my audience and perform a vivisection. Its part media study, part bloodsport.

Dungeon Design: An attempt to do what the creators of the game have put off for decades (despite being half of the title) and actually provide a coherent framework for step by step dungeon design. After nearly twenty years of banging my head against a wall, it finally seems to have worked.

Planescape: Where I try to add cool new (or revamped) destinations to the tapestry of d&d’s multiverse.

Special mention to “Why I don’t use the Great Wheel Cosmology” as it underscores a lot of my overall problems with d&d’s cosmic lore and its weird moralistic claims.

Deities: A collection of new/overhauled gods focusing on making them represent ideals that people would actually believe in as an embodiment of ideals and narrative themes.

How to use the divine in your game: a story first view of how to use faith, religion, and gods in your campaigns aiming for things more subtle and thematic.

Outer Gods: For when you want to get lovecraftian

Religion is the tag I use to talk about the concept of both faith as a theme in writing, as well as how the organized religion serves as a worldbuilding tool

Adventures by Type: not a comprehensive list

Press Start: Opening adventures for those who want a solid start for future campaigns or adventures

Campaigns: For those who’d like a larger story framework to play with

Adventure Compendium: If you’d like a lot of ideas on the same theme

Dungeon: Need I say More?

Monsterhunt: Facing off against a powerful enemy that has some tricks

Villain: In both Quantity and Quality

Player Home: Every party needs a place to rest their head

Ally: They’re here to help, usually

Patron: Benefactors of the shady and non shady verity

Mystery: Put your Sleuthing Hat on

Thief: Time to steal something

Faction: Larger groups the party can join

Adventures by Environment

Lowland

Swamp

Field

Desert

Wasteland

Highland

Cave

Mountain

Forest

Seaside

Ruin

Settlement

Village

Town

City

[ingravinoveritas]

Hello, I hope you are doing well!! I am going to add into the growing pile of asks in your inbox, but I need to get this out of my system!! Seeing these new images (and the season 3 announcement) has watered my crops, cleared my skin and all that jazz ✨🌟 both of them look soo happy and soppy and smitten and I really can't stop smiling at those pics... They radiate warmth (and are a far cry from the last pics of MS we got) and the best thing is, the people around them are looking like '😏😏 yes homo 🏳️‍🌈? If it is then good for them, good for them' (I even edited the pics XD)

Would love to hear more of your thoughts on this and I hope you have a nice holiday season (if you celebrate). Cheers 🥂

(Grouping these all together for ease of answering.)

Good lord, my inbox has completely blown up since last night. I can see we've all been greatly affected by the photo(s) of Michael and David at the Donmar, and there is surely much to discuss.

I think I am losing my shit just slightly too, so I am with you, @enchantingdefendorarbiter. What a joyous turn of events--opening night of Macbeth and Michael in (almost) the front row watching David with rapt attention, and someone somehow capturing the exact moment when they lock eyes from across the room in a "movie moment" made into genuine reality.

When I first saw the picture last night, I was so struck by the intimacy of it. Part of me wonders if this is due to the actual space--the Donmar is such a small theatre that lends itself to intimacy just by its nature, with the audience being so close to the stage and the performers. But there is no denying the intimacy that exists between Michael and David themselves--deep friendship, certainly, yes, but after looking at this photo, unquestionably the possibility of more.

As I've said before, I will not ever tell anyone that they have to ship Michael and David. It is absolutely correct for people to look at this picture and see best friends, because they are best friends. But being best friends and falling in love aren't mutually exclusive, nor does the possibility become closed off just because both of them are in other relationships.

So, intimacy. Another thing that intimacy can mean is feeling comfortable enough to show your feelings openly. That was what also struck me about last night, was that this was so public, and yet we got this (non-staged, non-planned) picture of Michael and David looking at each other ostensibly the same way they do when they're alone together. In this instance, maybe they thought no one was paying attention, but more significantly, they don't seem to care either way.

I think we think of "being in love" as this big, grand thing that exists the way it does in the movies. But in real life, being in love isn't just one specific thing, or specifically saying "I am in love with you." Being in love can also be I am looking at you like this right now because I don't know any other way to look at you. And that can be in private, or it can be in the middle of a crowded theatre, proudly letting the world see what you feel without apology.

(I also agree with you, @yami-no-kokoro, that the new pictures of Michael (which to answer your question @angelsandfelines are indeed from last night) are worlds away better than the ones we saw of him at a previous event. I am never not moved by the difference between Michael smiling his 'showbiz' smile versus smiling his real, genuine smile, and I love that that's what we got last night and that he was beaming so brightly because of David.)

To your comment, @phantomstars24, I could very much see that as well. Because last night felt and still feels like it was David and Michael's night. It felt like something took center stage in a new and painfully lovely way. It felt like Michael could go to David's dressing room with flowers and wine, and that they could sit on the couch and snog slowly and sweetly while Michael holds David in his arms and no one would blink a damn eye. And that is truly a beautiful thing.

So yes, those are my additional thoughts on the Macbeth press night. I have to do some traveling today, but I will try my best to answer the other Asks still waiting in my inbox. Thank you all for writing in and sharing your thoughts! x

[emeritus-fuckers]

How would papa's react/take care of the reader if reader uses their safeword?

Thank you for being the most sane person in my inbox (as of the moment I'm answering this). - Jez

Papas and safewords

Primo

He stops, no questions asked, and talks to you.

"You're safe, my love. Nobody's touching you anymore. Let's take deep breaths together, shall we?"

He helps you calm down.

Once he is sure you're okay, he goes to make you tea and bring you something sweet to eat.

He'll just sit next to you, giving you a safe amount of distance.

If you decide to open up and tell him what's wrong, he's gonna hold your hand comfortingly.

He'll deal with it a little bit like he would with his brothers' throwing tantrums when they were little.

First of all, helps you calm down and get rid of all the big feelings.

Then he asks you in very simple questions what you need.

Do you need a drink? Do you need a snack? Do you need a hug? Do you need a bath? Do you need a few minutes to yourself?

It's very effective and you feel just so, so safe and cared for.

Secondo

Stops what he was doing immediately and moves back a bit.

"It's alright, amore. Breathe. I'm not touching you."

Waits for you to give a signal that it's okay to touch you again.

If you were using restrains of any sort, he will tell you exactly what he's doing to make sure you realize you're in control of the situation.

He moves back once you're free, not wanting to scare you.

Lets you take your time to calm down before he slowly moves a bit closer, looking at you with worry.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

If you do, he listens carefully. If it's a solvable problem, he offers you all the solutions he can think of to avoid it happening in the future.

If it's a one time issue with you just not feeling well, he understands completely and assures you it's completely fine.

If you don't tell him what happens, he just talks to you for a while until you feel better.

Asks you exactly what you need and gives you just that.

Terzo

Moves back and holds his hands up immediately.

This man may be a pervert, but he respects safewords religiously.

He even has safewords outside of the bedroom for you, for whatever situation that makes you uncomfortable.

So you bet your sweet ass he stops.

He repeats to you that he's no longer touching you a few times, just to make sure you heard and understood him. He understands you must've been stressed to use the safeword.

He's fully prepared for this, just so you know. He quickly gives you your favorite blanket, a shirt/hoodie (depending on what you prefer) of his, a snack and a drink.

"Amore, I'm going to touch your cheek now so I can wipe your tears, is that alright, or do you want for do it yourself?"

Whenever he touches you, he asks for permission.

Helps you put on his shirt/hoodie. Wraps you up in the blanket so you're warm.

He gives you a choice in everything that happens until he's absolutely sure you feel better and you're ready to articulate your needs without his help.

He makes it very clear that if you ever, not just now, but ever need to talk to him about what makes you uncomfortable, he's here for it and he's gonna listen.

Copia

Copia is genuinely, utterly disappointed when he hears you use the safeword.

But you have to be stupid to think he's disappointed with you. No, no, he's disappointed with himself. He should've noticed you were uncomfortable, even if it was the smallest of signs.

He stops right away of course, a bit panicked. He feels very guilty about driving you to use the safeword, but he knows now is not the time for him to think about himself.

He's a bit helpless, never expecting that to happen, he needs a second to pull himself together.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, you're safe, I'm not gonna touch you if you don't want me to, okay? You're fine, just calm down, please..."

He lets you calm down a bit before offering you his favorite juice box, some chocolate he had, his favorite red hoodie and even a few rats to pet if you like them.

You end up sitting on his bed, his hoodie on you and your legs wrapped up in the covers as you nibble on the chocolate he gives you and drink the juice as the rats casually walk around, some of them even climbing up to rest on your shoulder.

Copia will ask you if you need anything every few minutes as he sits on the very edge of the bed to make sure he's not disturbing you.

He almost jumps in your arms when you ask for cuddles.

Holds you tightly and lets you talk. If you tell him why you used the safeword, he's gonna listen to you like he's never listened to anyone before.

If you just wanna babble on about anything else, he's delighted that you feel better and holds a silly conversation with you.

Old Nihil

Listen, we love Nihil here, but I just can't really see him dealing with a safeword???

He's old, he doesn't even have that much control over what is going on, you're the one doing everything here.

So if you need to stop you just... Stop.

But if he realized you were pushing yourself just for his pleasure, he might use the safeword for you, instead.

And so you end up stopping and trying to take care of him, but ends up grabbing your face and making you look in his eyes.

"I'm fine, I can keep going all night. But you're not up for it and I need to know why. So you just calm down and talk to me then, okay?"

If you have trouble calming down, he offers you his breathing tank so you can get some nice and pure oxygen.

I swear, him letting his darling use his oxygen tank is a common gag on this blog at this point.

He can't really do much to help you, but he does care and he tries to help you clear your mind.

It's the closest you're getting to the request, I might be good (according to y'all), but I'm not a miracle worker.

Young Nihil

I really doubt it was as important in his times as it is now, but since you insisted to implement it, fine.

He just kinda assumed it was a thing you wanted to have just for the sake of having it, never assumed you'd actually use it.

But you did. And despite his initial skepticism about the whole deal, he does stop.

He's just kinda... There, not sure what to do until you reach out to him and ask to hold you.

He does hold you, letting you calm down in his embrace.

He doesn't exactly offer anything, but if you ask for something, he'll get it for you.

Might ask what got you so stressed out, but it's really a 50/50 chance.

He's not the best at dealing with it, but he respects you and your wishes, so... That counts.