#anyway. i’m far enough away that i would do it my way if my boss wasn’t visiting on saturday

[cthulhus-curse]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 6,020

Warnings: Age Difference, Alluded CSA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Hopefully I scheduled this & the other fics correctly and not for the following year because I may no longer be around to fix it.

Summary: A series of snapshots of loving months alongside your professor which lead up to one of the most difficult decisions you’ve made in your life.

“Good morning, sunshine. Ready for another day of work?”

Although exhaustion ripped through your body, the sound of the woman’s voice made you smile. You learned to enjoy it through the past few weeks. Each day you woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn and went straight to work. Although it was right on campus, an office not too far from your dormitory, you weren’t used to being awake at such early hours. At least the pay was good and your boss was even better, you mused. 

“I can’t wait,” you replied flatly. Your boss, Professor Romanoff, came up to the desk you called a home ever since being hired. She held up two cups – one was her usual morning coffee and the other scalding hot chocolate topped off by a mountain of whipped cream. As always, she called you a child for picking that over anything caffeine-heavy. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem, sweetheart. Gotta keep my little assistant awake enough to get through the day,” Natasha chuckled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be heavy for you. We just have to get through grading some papers and then the rest of the shift is yours.”

The smirk remained plastered over your features as she handed you the hot chocolate before moving further in her office. Being the head of the English department at your university, Natasha got her privacy intact. It’s not like she was thrilled to work with her fellow professors anyway. 

“I heard there was a big party being hosted by your friends in the girl’s soccer team. I assume you’re planning on going?” Natasha’s tone was filled with curiosity, but never anger when she so much as alluded to your private life, specifically that having to do with one Wanda Maximoff. “I can let you go a few hours early if you need to get ready. Classes are done for the semester and you need to enjoy your college years. I’m sure Miss Maximoff would be happy to see you again. I know she means a lot to you.”

Ever since you had accepted the job as Natasha’s assistant, Wanda had given you the cold shoulder. You had spoken to her from time to time, but only when she came back to the dorm after days of being away, only to leave once again. At first you blame yourself for causing a rift in your relationship, if one could even call it that, but eventually you came to realize just how immature she was – taking a simple job offer did not mean your feelings for her changed in any way. 

“I actually haven’t seen her in awhile. She’s staying at Carol and Val’s place I think,” you shrugged while taking a sip of your drink. The way it burned its way onto your tongue and down your throat caused you to hum happily. 

“Oh? And how are you feeling about that?”

“I’m taking it pretty well. You know she’s not very fond of you and I think I pissed her off by agreeing to work for who she deems as ‘a fucking witch bitch’. It’s just childish and stupid,” you rolled your eyes at the mere idea of it. “I hate being someone’s second choice like that. She doesn’t even see how much I love her.”

Just like Wanda didn’t see you, you didn’t see Natasha. Your professor was crestfallen at the voices you threw at her. She hated seeing you in such pain, not being able to do anything about the mistreatment you received from your casual fling. The older woman cared for you, perhaps more than she led on – the mere image of seeing you in pain made bile rise up your throat before it was maintained in place. 

“Then it’s her loss. You deserve better than that, honey. You’re an amazing, beautiful, and smart woman. You don’t need to be sitting around waiting for someone to notice you. If she doesn’t like you the same way you like her, then it’s time to move on,” Natasha explained as she attempted to keep her own emotions at bay. She threw a sympathetic look your way even if you didn’t notice it. “Listen Y/N, I know we aren’t as close as you are with Miss Maximoff, but I care about you. You are by far my brightest student yet and I see so much potential in you. You don’t deserve to be thrown around like trash, only used when she gets bored with someone else. You deserve the world.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that?”

The ‘me’ went unspoken from Natasha. She simply sagged her head and stared down at the mountain of paperwork laying in her desk. It would be to no avail if she decided to work – with a brain oozing with thoughts of you, her focus disrupted. 

“How about we try something different today? We can work for a bit and then I can take you out for lunch. My treat,” Natasha said. “How does that sound? I just hate seeing you like this, sweetie.”

You thought about it for a second. There was something awfully safe about Natasha. As much as you wished to spend countless hours obsessing over Wanda, sometimes you found yourself humoring the idea of your professor. She was sweet, always protective as she huffed at the idea of you being hurt. At first you assumed it was some sort of motherly instinct, but after having caught yourself staring down her cleavage from time to time, the top buttons of her blouse always open, and she stared back with a smile, you knew something much more intimate lay beneath. 

“I’d like that,” you replied, suddenly drunk on Natasha’s presence as Wanda was left behind. 

“Good! Now time to work, hon. You don’t get paid to sit all day and look pretty,” the redhead chuckled at her own joke, suddenly feeling much more rejuvenated. “If you finish quickly, maybe we can grab some dessert as well.”

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A shudder ran down your body as hands traveled across your back. Fingernails left heavy trails in their wake, surely to be worn with the utmost pride. You hummed, eyes closed while holding still, standing there naked as the day you were born. In the dusk of the room, you let yourself be the center of attention; the center of her attention. 

“What did she do this time?” Natasha asked from behind. Her mouth was quickly upon your upper back, kissing its way along your shoulder blades. Never did she lose her tenderness when touching you. “Tell me, darling girl. Use your words.”

You didn’t know when it had begun. One day you were at work standing in front of your boss’s desk before you became trapped against it. The first time Natasha kissed you was then and there. Neither could hold back the attraction you shared for one another. No longer did you prioritize Wanda as you allowed your professor to take you. 

“I found her sleeping with Kate. She was…she was laying in my bed, Nat. I saw them and just ran away. She fucked her in my bed!” You sobbed, but didn’t allow yourself to shed tears. Not long before you had promised yourself never to cry over Wanda again. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I just thought of you and ran.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I hate that she keeps hurting you,” Natasha mumbled back as she hugged you from behind. “Don’t you dare run away this late at night again. You know how much I worry about you. I’m just a phone call away, malyshka. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” you responded before biting down on your lip. “I promise I’ll be good from now on. Your good girl, right?”

“Darling, you are always my good girl.”

Natasha motioned you to get on the bed, your head against a pillow as your ass remained up in the air. She allowed her hands to roam over your backside, smirking as a hand went down against a cheek. It was only a soft hit. Never did Natasha wish to inflict any horrid pain over you. As her eyes noticed the faint bruises Wanda left along your skin, she huffed. 

The redhead stood over you. She carried a dildo between her legs that was attached to a harness. Similar to you, she was fully nude minus for the red briefs she wore. Strong arms reeking with muscles held you close. As she inched the toy between your legs, you let out a loud moan. 

“I don’t like how she hurts you. I know you like it, Y/N, but she leaves you looking like a piece of meat. Does she even take care of your wounds, baby? Or does she leave you like that after hitting you until you’re crying out for her to stop?” Natasha questioned, already knowing what the answer was. Ever since first seeing your body, she was the one who took care of you as a surrogate for Wanda. “I know I can’t control what you do, but honey, this isn’t right. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Rather than vocalize your response, you hid your face against the pillow. Natasha slid inside you softly, allowing the dildo to fill you with ease. There was a grunt that you basked upon – it was low and throaty filled with your professor’s longing desire. She used all her force to drag you into a makeshift sitting position. From then on, Natasha allowed herself to, only gently, give you the pleasure Wanda failed to gift you with. 

“I want more,” you begged, eyes rolled to the back of your head the further Nat moved inside of you. Movements were languid and sloppy. All the older woman focused on was your own pleasure, not speed or roughness. Unlike Wanda, she took her time getting to know exactly what to do and how to touch you. “Please, mommy, I need more!”

“Whatever you want, my little angel.”

Natasha did not spend time rummaging through the newfound honorific. She beamed at it, but didn’t comment on anything. Instead, she thrust her hips forth fucking you with love that Wanda never gave you. Kisses were spread all across your back. Each grunt, each little noise she made mixed with your own, made you feel in heaven. 

Hands gripped your breasts from behind. They squeezed the mounds tightly, rolling erect nipples through the fingers. As Natasha pumped the strap-on in you, your cunt dripping with juices while velvety walls hugged her tight, she brought a hand down your body. Fingertips pressed against your clit and began teasing it, flicking the bud as you screamed loudly – surely her neighbors would hear. 

“You’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how you’re taking my cock. My pretty, little girl,” Natasha moaned when hugging you tight. She nuzzled her face against your shoulder before nipping your skin. There were various hickeys left upon you, signs for Wanda to see if you ever dared return to her. Natasha knew you weren’t hers, but each second she spent with you made her crave you even more. “I bet she can’t fuck you like this, can she? That little…she can’t make you feel this good. Only I can make it better. I’m the only one that will ever keep you safe and you know this.”

When you finally came, Natasha was there to keep you close. She remained frozen in place as your orgasm shot through your body. Not even a second passed before she inched you on the bed, allowing you to rest upon the soft mattress with the dildo still inside you. 

“I never want to see you hurt again. If she ever does this to you, if you end up going back, I want you to call me when you need me. I never break a promise,” Natahsa muttered as she placed a kiss over the back of your head. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

From then on, you found yourself hesitating each time you merely humored the idea of going back to Wanda. Even if you told yourself that the relationship with Natasha was nothing more than platonic, you questioned the validity of such a statement. Every second you spend with her, you fall further for your professor. 

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“Tell me about your family.”

The two of you had escaped the cruel Bostonian summer filled with never-ending traffic and burning skyscrapers. It was the dead-center of the season and the entire city was plagued by a mix of potential commuters for the various academic institutions or those who, for some reason, decided for it to be her vacation destination.

Natasha had taken you away to a small town across the state. It was remote, small enough so that the two of you could enjoy your life in public without the student body of the university to find you. All you had done was pack all the bags you could muster for the weekend getaway. It was peace which became well-deserved. 

You weren’t much of a fan of them, but Nat had always spoken highly of the times she took her sister to pick out peaches ever since she first learned how to drive. The two of them would escape into an orchard in the depths of Ohio and come out with their hands full with fruits. The mere memory she shared with you was enough to get you to agree to her plans. 

“Well, there’s really not much to talk about. I was adopted by Melina and Alexei,” Natasha began as though it was the most casual thing in the world to refer to her parents by their given names. “I have a sister, also adopted, named Yelena. She’s the light of my life. A bit of an asshole I must say, but she’s the one I care about most.”

“Yelena Belova? That’s your sister?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows; it was a name similar to that of a member of Wanda’s team. 

“Yes. I realize she’s friends with Miss Maximoff,” Natasha replied with apparent dismay. “As hard as I’ve tried to keep her away from that girl, the two are almost inseparable. I trust her enough to not do anything overly stupid though. Lena has always been a bit of a firecracker.”

The two of you walked hand in hand along the orchard. There was not a label to whatever you had yet, but it didn’t care. Natasha was clear when she said she would never pressure you into it. Instead, you allowed yourself to be a free agent who, at times, found yourself wishing to have something more with your professor. 

Eyes roamed over the woman’s body. Usually you saw her in professional clothes or the occasional nightgown when you stayed over at her place, but never with a pair of shorts and a loose camisole. There were sunglasses shielding Natasha’s viridescent eyes from the sun, but you had looked into them for long enough to memorize their beauty. 

You noticed how she covered her body from time to time, hands over her thighs, cowering away from the nonexistent public that dared gawk in her general direction. It hurt to see. She was the perfect image of beauty to you, but a disgusting void to herself. 

There were rare moments in which Natasha allowed you to touch her. She was a fan of studying each and every one of your favorite sweet spots, running hands across your skin before making you giggle under the drunkenness of arousal. The few times you had placed your palms upon her frame you did so in a tender manner – Nat was a porcelain doll under your touch who could break at any seconds. It merely lasted a few seconds before she pushed you off and rushed to apologize for acting out, only for you to shoot her a warm smirk and tell her there was nothing wrong with that. 

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present and carried on. 

“Yeah, your sister’s always been nice to me though. She’s not as close with Wanda if that makes you feel better. I’ve mostly seen her chasing around that Kate girl. Maybe it’s an underclassmen thing,” you shrugged. “What about your parents?”

There was a pregnant pause, clear hesitation, before Natasha continued.

“Well, I never met my biological family nor did I care about seeking them out. My mom has always been amazing,” Natasha stopped for a second, her hands gliding across the peaches that she carefully eyed. “My father…not so much.”

“Why do you refer to her as mom and him as father?” came your question before you could help yourself.

It was clear her demeanor had changed. Natasha stood with her back straight, hands clasped in front of her as a means to shield herself. She only stared forth into nothingness. Her body was with you in the orchard while her mind went back to when she was a child – to when she was alone with him. 

“It makes it less personal,” she finally answered. “It’s also easier than calling him ‘the man whose wife wanted to adopt two kids he never wanted’ and then turned my childhood to shit. I grew up way too fast because of that…that durak!”

The yelp she let out was fueled with emotions you had yet to see. Natasha was rarely angry, let alone emotionally vulnerable to let you peek through her walls. Her body sagged after fighting so long being tense. You could see tears rushing down her face even with sunglasses that covered them, but knew not to make a comment.

“Nat, has he ever…?”

You didn’t want to humor such a thing. Even then, you already knew the answer given her body language and unspoken words. While you fought with the idea of potentially driving to her father’s house and beating him to a pulp, Natasha found herself glad it had been her over Yelena. If something were to happen to her sister, she would never forgive herself. Each time he came at night, the woman sacrificed herself. It was a small price to pay for her beloved sibling’s safety. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, baby,” Natasha said with a cracked voice, turning the other way to move further into the orchard. You gave her space knowing that whenever she felt comfortable enough to talk, she would. All you could do was follow along as the professor whispered again. “I’m sorry.”

But behind her broken tone, deep down, you could hear a younger Nat’s faint cry of ‘yes’. 

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There were moments in which exhaustion overtook you during long tedious days. You could barely move a muscle and still feel as though life had been sucked out of you. Most of your summer was spent chasing around Natasha, who you remained working for throughout the following months with little to no workload. Being around the woman, doing mere iced coffee runs and chatting without a care in the world while in the office made you feel free for once in a lifetime – for the first time since you met Wanda, she was an afterthought. 

Natasha was quick to jump in and take care of you through those moments. She always acted out in small, loving ways when paying for your food, giving you rides, or merely holding your hand as the two of you walked into your next adventure. Her desperation to hold you in her arms and promise you all would be well was intense. There was love radiating from her a mile away which you were far too shortsighted to see. 

“Tell me what you need, malyshka. Come on, little darling, use your words.”

After a particularly difficult day, you found yourself safe in Natasha’s lap. There had been no overexertion of your being during that day. It had mostly been relaxing as you worked alongside your professor on a Friday, but when you received a call from Wanda midday, the woman asking you to meet up, you merely froze and broke down in the office – your ‘friend’ only reached out when she needed something from you and it had been nearly a month since you last spoke amicably. After you only hummed as a reply and ended the call, Natasha was there to break your fall. 

“Mommy’s here for you. I know today has been a really difficult day and that you’ve felt really stressed, but I don’t want you focusing on those icky thoughts. I just wish she didn’t hurt you like this,” came the older woman’s whisper as she pulled you close. The two of you had rushed out of the office even hours before Natasha liked calling it quits. Even as behind as she was with her future lesson planning, she still prioritized you before anything else. “Use your words, detka. Tell mommy how she can help.”

“I don’t even want to think,” you flatly mumbled with tears threatening to fall down your eyes. Hands gripped the professor’s clothes while your forehead lay frozen in her shoulder. With arms wrapped around your body you finally felt safe. “Please help me forget, Nat. I never want to think about her again. I just-” your words were cut short by a short while your voice was left cracked. 

“Shh it’s alright, my darling girl. Mommy’s here to make it all better.”

While holding you tight, Natasha allowed a hand to slip down your body. It snuck to your lap then between your legs. No teasing was found – she knew you how overwhelmed you were and was ready to give you whatever you wished for without question. When naked fingers went past the waistline of your sweats and underwear, landing upon your already throbbing sex, you couldn’t hold back a throaty moan. 

You quickly realized Natasha wanted to separate herself from the man who agreed to adopt her. He was rough, violent, and torturous much like how she saw Wanda, whereas your professor never failed to bring a smile to your face even as she smacked your backside harshly — she always soothed the skin with the palm of her hand before carrying on. She wanted, no, needed to break away from his grasp over her mind. Otherwise she’d end up as a battered slave of his once again. 

Fingertips brushed against your clit then studied the entirety of your slit while coating themselves in your everlasting slick. Natasha peppered your wet cheeks, filled with desolate tears, with kisses. She mumbled only the sweetest words while easing herself in you. You cried out about your sorrows, about Wanda’s mistreatment over you, while the older woman simply sat there and held you through it. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone who dares make you feel this bad is an idiot. Y/N, my love, you deserve the world,” Natasha said lovingly. She nuzzled her face against your own, foreheads pressed together with fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt. You couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to grind on them. Instead, you remained shaking as Natasha made it all better. “You never let yourself be treated like that by anyone, alright? Whether it’s Miss Maximoff or me, or anyone else. My darling angel should be treated as the princess she is. You’re one of a kind, honey, a perfect little bear. I never want you to forget just how valuable your existence is.”

Tears of joy were mixed with your gloomy ones. There were cries of pleasure and internal pain that Natasha never stopped supporting you through. She allowed her lips to touch down upon your own. With your orgasm approaching soon and her tender care, you were elated. 

“My sweet baby,” came Natasha’s hushed whisper. She made you come, your back arching while fingernails dug deep into the redhead’s outfit. There was a loud moan, though distant, that boomed across the room. Even as you fell apart, strong arms held you in place. Such a wondrous creature such as yourself, according to your boss, deserved to see the stars. “You did such a good job for mommy. Always my perfect girl,” she breathed out with fingers still deep inside you. “All mine.”

You swore there was a muttered ‘I love you’ thrown somewhere, but with the mix of mental and physical exhaustion raining down upon your body, you merely shrugged your shoulders and fell limp against Natasha. Although you wouldn’t admit it, your heart longed to say the words back – out of everyone in your life, you never expected to fall into the depths of love with your professor. 

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“I don’t know why you like this show so much. It’s just senseless killing and at the end they solve everything and go home.”

Although it was supposed to be a relaxing weekend towards the start of the Fall semester, you found the mind boggling statement to fill you with feigned rage. Even as classes began, the arrangement between you and the professor carried on. You still worked for her even if there were no classes in said semester you took with you. As disappointing as that was, you began seeing more of Natasha regardless in more ways than one. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch late one Friday night. You were exhausted with your course load and Natasha cursed off the new freshmen she had to teach; they always pretended to still be in high school. A bowl of popcorn was nestled between your legs. While you watched Criminal Minds, Natasha settled for insulting it. 

“It’s fun, Romanoff. Entertaining at the very least.” you shot back with a knowing smirk. You had been the one to introduce her to various shows. Who would’ve thought that the great Professor Romanoff was living underneath a rock her whole life? 

“Wow I’ve been demoted from mommy to Romanoff. That’s sad,” Natasha laughed before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Probably Rossi,” came your shrug. “He’s the guy with the beard.”

“Really?” At the surprised tone your lover let out, you feigned offense. “I thought you’d like one of the girls. What about that brunette with the bangs?”

“Oh, Emily left for the Interpol. I would like JJ, but I don’t know. There’s just something cool about Rossi in this season.”

The two of you remained silent for a few seconds. It wasn't awkward, but then again, nothing was with Natasha by your side. Even if you slipped and fell in front of her, you wouldn’t feel embarrassed. The woman never judged you, instead supporting your every decision while also guiding you through life. You felt comfortable enough with her to be yourself. At times it felt as though it was you and Nat against the world. 

“Maybe you just have daddy issues,” Natasha casually offered. Moment passed before the two of you burst out laughing. Tears sprinkled in your eyes while your breath left your body. With the amusement that basked in the room, you both were giggling messes. 

“Hey!” you huffed when gaining some of your composure back and lightly slapping Natasha’s shoulder. “We both have daddy issues.”

“Fine, but I have more than you. Mostly because I’ve never actually met my real dad. Maybe he’s an asshole like Alexei,” Natasha giggled. She never failed to look radiant as ever, especially when laughing and seemingly worry-free. You had to do several double takes because the beauty that exuded from your professor was far too enthralling to break away from. As the laughter died down and you were left holding one another, her head on your shoulder while you leaned back against the couch, she spoke. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N.” 

You had both agreed to keep things unofficial and yet there was that unmistakable skip of a beat your heart underwent when Natasha spoke her words. Teeth gnawed at your bottom lip nervously. There were striking green eyes which made it difficult for you to ignore the pegged comment. While your heart longed you to reply with a ‘yes’, to finally be Natasha’s forever, your mouth reacted differently. 

For the rest of the evening the two of you sat by and finished watching the show. Natasha was silent as she ghosted over her house, leaving you alone in the living room before hiding out in her bedroom. It was the first night in months that you slept in the guest room by yourself. And to your dismay, you went to sleep listening to Natasha’s quiet sobs that escaped the privacy of her bedroom. You had felt bad for Wanda when she got sad about you seeing your professor casually, but listening to the redhead’s woes was synonymous with your heart being squeezed to death. 

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It was October when you fell in love. 

You returned to your dorm room days later behind the guise of assuming Natasha wished for you to be far away. She had barely spoken a word to you at work. Most of the time she sat by her desk with sagged shoulders, glasses perched at the edge of her nose, and glossy eyes hiding behind the frames. You desperately wished to say something, but when Wanda sweeped back into your life, the guilt ate at you until nothing was left behind. 

The Fall semester quickly rolled by. You were at the end of the month and still couldn’t sleep without seeing Natasha’s face tainted in your mind. At times when Wanda lay above you, hips thrusting with straps wrapped around them and letting out low grunts, you closed your eyes and imagined it was the older woman. The memories of her doing the same were soaked with humiliation. You had broken her heart, you knew. Never would you dare forgive yourself for having caused so much pain upon the frail, angelic woman. 

“I hate her so much,” Wanda had grumbled when you walked through campus hand-in-hand passing by a certain professor whose sight was solemnly trained on the floor. Your hand was squeezed as your eyes drifted to Natasha. As much as she seemingly hated you, all you wanted to do was run up to her, wrap her in your arms, and bed for forgiveness. Even if it would take ages, she was worth it. “Fucking bitch.”

Perhaps it was Wanda’s comment or the fact that you finally gained enough confidence through your depressive episode to take action, but that night you found yourself standing in front of Natasha’s house. Your roommate was long forgotten and for the first time in your life, you couldn’t care less about who she was fucking. All that mattered was the woman you, without admitting it, had fallen for. 

There was a desperate knock upon the hardwood door. There was furious rain which fell down upon your body. That along with the cool breeze of the night made you freeze in place. Still, you felt as though you deserved it. Even then, you’d do whatever it took for Natasha. 

“It’s 10pm on a Wednesday, Y/N. Someone better be dying,” were the first words Natasha spoke to you once the door swung open in a low grumbled voice you knew to be from when she awoke. “To what do I owe the displeasure? Did you come here to tell me how great Miss Maximoff is compared to-”

You cut her off by practically tackling Natasha into the house. Even if your body was dripping with the tears of the sky, you clung to the woman as though your life depended on it. She was clearly taken aback and yet never moved away. Instead her arms were left unmoving as you embraced her. That was good enough for you, you assumed. 

Putting your heart on the line has never been easy. You were the person who shoved her emotions so deep down that you somehow told yourself Wanda was the one for you. Although she hurt you so much, you still remained by her side. It wasn’t difficult to assume Natasha had felt something similar when you rejected her. She had spent countless months giving you the utmost love and never daring to ask for anything in return. You were always protected by her mere presence until one day you decided to throw it all away. Going to her house, you were without hope of being taken back. There was slight hesitation reeking in your chest, but as soon as you saw your former lover, you swore you fell for her once again – she would forever be worth it. 

“I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot and I admit it. I should’ve said yes to you,” you began. Life had been tedious without Natasha even if only for a few weeks. You hated how only a cold slap in the face in the shape of one Wanda Maximoff could awaken you from such a dismal nightmare. “I hurt you so badly and I never, ever expect for you to take me back. I was an asshole. A svo-lach' if you will,” you could practically feel Natasha’s slight smirk at the mention of a Russian word she had taught you. “I miss you and I don’t think I can do this without you. It’s probably stupid since we weren’t with each other for ages. It wasn’t official and yet I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my girlfriend. It’s always been you, Nat and it always will be.”

No words were spoken as the door was locked and you were dragged to the bedroom. Even if dripping with water, Natasha helped undress you. She threw you against the bed, viridescent eyes twinkling under the dead of the night before taking her rightful position over your body. There was not an area of your freezing body that she didn’t kiss her way through as sudden warmth radiated from her skin and onto yours. 

When you first kissed her after weeks of being away, you swore there were fireworks going off. Never had kissing Wanda felt even remotely good or similar. You were enthralled by the way Natasha was seemingly everywhere. Her hands drifted up your body before taking your breasts into her palms and squeezing them, nipples rolling through her fingers before being pinched – she did always have an adorable fixation on your chest. There was a sense of longing within her. The two of you hadn’t been together for far too long. During the rest of the night, you explored what was missed, holding one another as cries of pleasure were let out. 

Positions were switched from time to time. Natasha would be on top before you pushed her against the mattress and had your head disappear between her legs. There was nothing to be said. You two communicated through sweet and rough touches, connecting as one without the need for words. There was a moment when you made her squirt, legs shaking as your fingers were dug deep inside her cunt. Natasha was left wide-eyed and suddenly droopy while you lapped at the mess – even when a spent mess, she was the most beautiful woman in the universe. 

When neither of you could keep going it was already the early hours of the morning. Your bodies were sore and marked with the reddened tracks of fingernails. It was the first time in ages that you finally felt as though you belonged. Natasha was your person, she was safe, and she was home. It was then that you, while fingers trailed across the back of the woman’s hand, decided never to dare leave her again. 

“I love you,” she muttered once you were breathing raggedly, laying back on the bed with bodies intertwined and hearts aligned. You felt yourself crawl out of your skin, frowning as the words were spoken. Without even daring to turn around, you went to grab Natasha’s hand. When squeezing it, you gave her your response. 

You couldn’t say it out loud, but she knew then you loved her too.

[hythlodaes]

getting bitched at for using an ounce of logic in the workplace 🤪

[miupow]

ℌOℓเ𝔇AY 𝔇ECOɌATเNɠ ⸝⸝ 휴닝카이

asking your favorite i.t guy for help decorating goes horribly (or perfectly) wrong. 一 𝒾n 𝓌hich you and your coworker huening kai get stuck in a closet together during a snowstorm。

⧼ 🎄 ⧽ 一 𝓅airing・hueningkai x fem!reader 𝓰enre/𝓌arnings・smut, fluff, pwp, nsfw, minors do not interact! trapped in a closet trope, power outages, sex with the lights off, groping, breast worship, nipple sucking, dry humping, handjobs, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex, pullout method, vaginal sex, cumshot, cum marking, begging, slight sub!kai but not really, praise kink, size kink, resolved romantic and sexual tension 𝓌c ・5. 9 k | 𝓉o 𝓁ibrary.

[𝓃otes。] holy shit this is so much longer than i meant for it to be. i was just possessed by some sort of demon and wrote this thing in two days, which is the fastest i've ever written anything ever... thank you @jellymochii for betareading! hope you all enjoy this cute little fic while on your holiday breaks ^_^

no one had ever bothered to warn you about how difficult it was to plan a party. maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity when it had been presented to you— though it was awfully in your nature as a corporate kiss-ass to accept any work-related project that was offered to you in blind hope that you’ll manage to impress some higher-up somewhere along the line. you had only been hired at txt bank a few months ago, anyway, and the lady you replaced was the one who oversaw all the holiday decorating. didn’t that mean, technically speaking, that by association it was now your job too? either way, you figured that it would do you some good to prove yourself dependable.

“i’m sure you’ll do great,” your boss, yeonjun had reassured you with a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “don’t be afraid to ask for help!”

you were terrified to ask for help. you didn’t even know most of your coworkers’ names yet, let alone feel comfortable enough with them to ask for help with a benefit-less side quest. it might just be paranoia, but you were sure they wouldn’t want to help you even if you did ask. the old financial analysist seems to have been a popular staple in the office, and you were a far cry away from the life of the party. young, inexperienced, and far too shy for your own good— you’ve never had any of your peers reach out to you for more than letting you know what you were doing wrong. yeonjun’s assistant, beomgyu, was the only person in the bank you felt even remotely comfortable with, having known him since you were a freshman in college, and without his mentoring and his happy-go-lucky attitude, you were sure that you would have buckled under the pressure long before you made it to the new year.

naturally, you run to him first.

“you don’t want my help, believe me,” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to face you. “why don’t you ask kai? you know he’ll say yes— hell, you could probably ask him to jump from the tenth floor and he’d do it. he’s obsessed with you.”

“he’s not obsessed.” you retort weakly, rolling your eyes. “he’s just being nice.”

“sure, buying you coffee and lunch, following you around like a lost puppy, and offering to walk you to your car every night is just being nice.”

“i asked him to that first time!” you pout. “the parking garage is scary when it’s dark out…”

huening kai worked in the bank’s i.t. department, down in the basement. even then, you still saw him often, the poor boy constantly running up and down those stairs whenever he was called. he was the only stranger to welcome you warmly when you first began at the company, offering his assistance with anything you needed— it was an honest godsend, because the computer software went so far over your head it made you dizzy. you still haven’t gotten quite the hang of it, but that was mostly because it was difficult to focus on what kai was saying when he was bent over you so closely and intimately, explaining equations and spreadsheets with that soft, gentle voice of his. you only felt dizzier in his presence, so nothing he told you ever stuck… but that worked just fine for you, because that meant you could keep asking for his help.

beomgyu says that kai has a crush on you. you’re certain he’s just that sweet and friendly with everyone. 

as much as you hate it, beomgyu’s right that kai would help you out if you asked him to. you feel bad for hogging up all of his time, as busy as he is even when he isn’t assisting people, but if beomgyu won’t help you he’s the only other person you’re willing to ask. when you see him again later that evening, smiling that pretty lopsided smile that gives your tummy butterflies, offering to walk you through the parking garage again, you ask him meekly if he’d help you decorate for the office christmas party.

he accepts a little more enthusiastically than you had anticipated he would. “there’s a storage closet down in the basement that has some old decorations from last year’s party.” he tells you as you dig around in your purse for your car keys, “i can show it to you sometime if you’d like! it’ll have to be after everyone goes home, though. i’m technically not allowed to go rooting through storage.”

“isn’t there supposed to be a snowstorm tomorrow?” you ask. “yeonjun told me he’ll let everyone go home early if it starts getting really bad. maybe we can stay behind then?”

“ooh, sneaky.” kai giggles. “sounds like a plan!”

your heart raced the entire drive home. it was just going through some old dusty decorations, it wasn’t a date or anything even close to it, but why did your heartbeat flutter like it was one? that night you tossed and turned, unable to sleep— no matter how hard you tried to clear your head you couldn’t stop thinking about your plans with kai. part of you was nervous you would land in trouble with yeonjun if you were caught snuck around the office after hours, but all of that anxiety was drowned out effortlessly by your excitement and anticipation. alone? with kai? it might not be a date to him, but it sure was one to you.

by the time exhaustion finally overtook you, rays of light from the rising sun were already beginning to stream through the gap in your curtains. you get only a few hours of sleep before your morning alarm forces you awake. you’re tired and groggy, and can barely stay awake to get dressed and ready for work, but the sight of fresh falling snow out your window revitalizes you better than any cup of coffee. frigid, bitter wind slaps you in the face as you leave your house, your flimsy scarf and coat doing little to shield you from the brewing blizzard, but you can’t find it in you to be unhappy even as you nearly slip and break your neck getting to your car. this is exactly what you were hoping for, and a quick glance at your phone confirms that the snowfall is only going to get worse.

you find it difficult to focus all day, partly because of your nerves and partly because you kept looking out the office windows to admire the snow. seoul turns nearly invisible below you, all the streets and buildings covered in a sparkling, dazzling blanket of pure white that blinds you. it was oddly peaceful, the swirling snowfall silencing the usually loud and bustling city.

by lunchtime, you couldn’t see anything outside at all. the snowflakes turn rapidly to sleet and ice, and the wind picks up to the point it’s howling and shaking the windows. yeonjun began sending people home at two, and by four the office was silent for an entirely different reason.

you tell yeonjun that you have some extra statements to go through, but that you’ll be leaving shortly— you even make a show out of packing up your purse, going extra slow just in case he wants to stay and chat. thankfully, he exits the office without much fuss, reminding you to drive carefully, and to tell security when you’re leaving so they could lock up behind you.

“of course, sir, thank you. have a good night.” you reply with a tight smile, praying that you don’t look as guilty as you feel.

once you hear the exit doors close behind him, you shoot up out of your desk and hightail it to the basement. kai meets you at the stairs, grinning and waving excitedly with his bag slung over his shoulder. “it shouldn’t take very long, the closet’s pretty small,” he says, ushering you to follow him. “i want us both to get out of here before the storm gets any worse.”

while you certainly wouldn’t mind spending extra time alone with kai, the last thing you want is to get snowed in at the office. he leads you down a dimly lit hallway, flanked on each side by identical personal offices. the rooms were empty and dark, devoid of any signs of life or activity— it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing how everyone had left for the day, but something about the uncanny, isolated atmosphere gave you the creeps. kai continues to lead you to the very end of the hall, stopping at a scuffed, unmarked wooden door. a keypad fixed to the adjacent wall blinks brightly in the dark.

“this is the closet you were talking about?” you question, eyeing the door oddly. “it doesn’t look like a storage closet at all. why’s it got a keypad?”

“it used to be a server room, i think. there’s still some equipment in the back.” kai responds lightly, bending over slightly to plug in the code for the keypad. “now it’s just used to store stuff we don’t need, though only my department can use it. expensive computers and whatnot. after last year’s christmas party i helped put away everything, and i stored it all in here ‘cos i was too lazy to take it all the way to the top floor.”

the keypad beeps and the little blinking light turns green. kai pulls the door open and gestures you inside.

the air in the storage closet is stale and dusty. you search in the dark for the light switch, but kai locates it with ease, and you find yourself having to blink hard a couple of times to adjust to the near-blinding fluorescent light. against each wall countless labeled boxes and tubs are stacked up nearly to the ceiling, each one filled to the brim. a line of folding chairs leaned up against a broken desk, a ladder and some cleaning supplies occupied a far corner. as kai had said, abandoned old server racks had been pushed to the very back of the room, collecting dust, far too outdated to be of any use anymore. the room was small and narrow with no windows, barely enough room to move around besides the carefully constructed walkway that wove between all the junk. you feel awfully claustrophobic, especially with kai’s tall, broad frame stepping in behind you. you both toss your bags to an empty spot on the floor, and the door swings shut with a dull click.

you can still hear the storm outside, even down here. the wind howls and whips around viciously, and the sleet pummels the walls like thousands of tiny bullets.

“there should be a fake tree in here somewhere,” huening murmurs, squeezing past you to make his way towards the back of the closet. his chest brushes against your back as he moves past, and you can feel the firm planes of his broad pecs through the thin material of his button down shirt. “and some wreaths and ribbons and things. i think i hid them all back here so i wouldn’t get in trouble.”

you laugh airily, a little too distracted to fully pay attention to what he was saying. “you? in trouble? i don’t think yeonjun has the heart.”

kai shrugs, opening a random cardboard box and peering inside. “you’d be surprised. you haven’t been here long enough to see what he’s capable of— oh, by the way, how are you liking it here so far? getting the hang of everything?”

you should probably be helping him, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back ripple through his shirt. “i, um. i’m still figuring it out. i really appreciate your help.”

the blizzard grows even louder outside, to the point it’s beginning to frighten you. you don’t think you’ve ever heard of a snowstorm causing a building’s walls to cave in, but there’s always a first for everything.

if kai notices that you haven’t moved from where you stood by the door, he doesn’t mention it. “no need to thank me! i’m happy to, really. i’ll help you out with whatever you need anytime, y/n, you just have to ask. you know you can count on me.” he moves on to another box, seemingly still searching in vain for those decorations. ”who’s your favorite coworker? if you have one, i mean—ah, that’s a stupid question. it’s probably beomgyu.”

kai’s tone changed suddenly, from happy and bright to something you couldn’t quite place. you’ve never heard kai sound like that before. “what do you mean?” you prod, cocking your head to the side.

he looks as if he’s weighing the question, biting the inside of his round cheek as his eyes look everywhere except at your face. “well, i mean, like… he’s your friend, right? and you and him have known each other for years now. you hang out with him every day, outside of work too, going to the bar and whatever. and you’re always talking about him, and laughing at his jokes, and looking his stupid face and his stupid hair—”

you’re not sure how to quite process that. “actually, kai… my favorite coworker is you.”

kai’s head spins around so fast that you’re afraid it’s going to come off, his big brown eyes wide with shock. “wait, what? really?!”

“yes, really.” you giggle, “i thought you would have known that, silly. beomgyu’s my friend and all, but he gets on my nerves all the time. you’ve just been so sweet to me when nobody else has, and you’ve made me feel so welcome… it really means a lot.”

kai’s face turns an adorable shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. “oh. well. um. th-thank you. i—” he averts his eyes back to all the boxes, shyly lowering his head. his long dark bangs fall into his eyes, shielding the unreadable emotions that swirled in their dark chocolate depths. “i’m glad you feel that way… i can’t seem to find any of these stupid decorations, i’m worried we’re not going to be able to make it out of here before the power goes—”

just then, the light flickers, pops, and plunges both of you back into complete and total darkness.

“—out.”

it’s so dark inside the storage closet that you can’t even see your hands in front of your face— if you screw your eyes shut and open them again, it makes no difference, completely blind to everything except the cacophonous howling of the wind. “shit!” kai curses, the first time you’ve ever heard him do so, some loud stumbling and crashing coming from your left. “hold on, i’ll get us out of here—”

more crashing and banging, now moving your way; you open your mouth to warn him far too late, and kai barrels into you, nearly knocking you over. “sorry!” he yelps, outstretching his arm to break your fall and instead grabbing a fat fistful of your breast. he doesn’t seem to even notice, his hands large and warm and squeezing a little too tightly, seeping through the thin material of your blouse and bra and making a very unwelcome heat bloom between your legs.

“um, kai,” you stutter, trying your hardest to keep your voice level, “that’s… my boob.”

kai tears his hand away as if it were touching hot coals, and much to your dismay you find yourself immediately missing his touch. “i’m so sorry!” he repeats in a rush, stumbling over his words, his usually deep voice a couple octaves higher. you’re sure his handsome face is glowing crimson red, and distantly you wish the lights were on so you could see it. “i— i, i  didn’t mean to, i swear!”

“i know you didn’t,” you reassure him quickly, reaching out your own arms to help him squeeze himself by. with your help, he manages to slip his way past you, towards the general vicinity of the doorway, his feet knocking over things all the way there. you can hear him pressing buttons rapidly on the keypad, the device making no noise or beeping any lights— kai curses again and slams his fist against the wall, the loud thud echoing throughout the dark room.

“we’re stuck in here.” kai mutters in dismay.

“what do you mean we’re stuck in here?!”

“the door automatically locks itself when it closes and the keypad is the only way to unlock it… and it turned off along with the power. it’s alright though, the backup generator should turn on any minute now…”

the two of you stand around in silence for a long pregnant pause. the power does not turn back on.

“or not.” he gripes. “okay, this is fine, we’ll get out of here somehow— here, let me turn on my phone flashlight…”

kai rummages around in his pockets before pulling out what you assume is his phone. you anticipate seeing the little flashlight to finally illuminate the all-encompassing dark, but it never comes. “…and my phone’s dead. great. just great.”

“you really need to get better about charging that thing.” you quip sarcastically. “how many times have you asked to borrow my charger? now i only bring it because i know you’ll need it.”

“i know, i didn’t— wait, really? just for me?”

you don’t respond to his question, your cheeks flaring up from the confession you didn’t mean to let slide. “my phone should still have a charge.” you say, attempting to change the subject, “but i left it in my purse. i’m gonna try and grab it.”

carefully, you begin to shuffle your way towards the corner of the room, where you were at least mostly certain that you and kai had placed down your bags. kai follows you closely, his large hands balanced on your shoulders to keep him steady… a fine ideas at first, when you were making good headway, but you didn’t get very far at all.

you manage to only make it a few short steps before your kitten heel catches on something rolling around on the ground— kai must have knocked the contents of a few boxes over on his way over to you, little plastic bulbs that feel an awful lot like christmas ornaments, as ironic as it is. you trip and stumble, and you probably could have caught yourself easily if it wasn’t for kai’s large body falling with you. you both come crashing to the floor, your sharp gasp drowned out by kai’s loud shriek right in your ear; he squishes you against the cold linoleum floor, his chest pressed against your back, his hips flush against your ass. you try to wriggle free, but kai is just too heavy on top of you, motionless and oddly silent as he breathes hard against the back of your neck.

 “oh my god, kai, you big oaf, get off of me!” you whine, attempting in vain to push yourself up onto your hands and knees— your wiggle your hips against kai’s own, akin to a bucking hose trying to unseat it’s rider, and that’s when you feel it.

your pencil skirt has ridden up so that only your pantyhose and underwear were covering your ass, and you can feel every inch of kai’s hardening dick pressed up against you as if there were no clothes between you at all. the weight and curve of it, slotted perfectly between your asscheeks like it belonged there, the way it twitches violently in his slacks when you gasp.

“i’m sorry,” he whimpers, his head buried in your shoulder, his voice wobbly like he was about to cry, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—”

just then do you register his hands on your hips, touching you so intimately, steadfast in their movements down your ass and thighs despite shaking like a leaf. he’s never been this close to you before, his body so sculpted and masculine against you, his soft plump lips ghosting over the exposed skin of your neck, wafts of his musky cologne clouding your senses. you shouldn’t do this, you should remain professional… but you’ve wanted huening kai for months, since you first met him, and having him pressed against you so helpless and vulnerable has destroyed all your control and reason. all you could think about was that kai wanted you too, and you had the proof straining against you and begging to be freed.

you roll your hips back against him slowly, as if not to startle him— the broken moan that falls from those kissable lips is downright obscene, whiny and desperate, shooting hot sparks of pleasure down your body to your core.

“a-ah, d-did you, um. did you mean to d-do that?” he asks in a small voice, his cock growing even harder against you.

you can’t take it anymore— in kai’s dazed state you manage to pull yourself up from underneath him, spinning around on your knees to grab wildly in his direction. you manage to get your fist wrapped around his tie, and with a sharp tug kai’s lips come crashing down onto yours. his lips are soft and pillowy against your own, tasting a little sweet, like the tea with milk and honey he enjoys drinking while he works. his panting breath tickles your skin, his fingers coming up to card through your hair as you open your mouths and breathe each other in. your bodies press together heatedly, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, groping and pulling each other impossibly closer together. kai’s other hand slides down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the plush lightly between his fingers. swathed in all this darkness, it was easy to forget that you weren’t dreaming.

you’ve never kissed or been kissed like this before.

“does that answer your question?” you giggle when you part for air, panting hotly into each others mouths before kai descends upon you to recapture your lips himself.

this kiss is even more heated than the last, kai prying your lips apart to deepen the passion with teeth and tongue. you wish you could see, could admire the sharp tic of kai’s jaw as he kissed you, lose yourself in those beautiful brown eyes. bear some witness to something you were sure would never happen. you could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, blood rushing in your ears to drown out the storm as you both fumble with each other’s clothes. kai’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing harshly when you run your hand down his chest and belly to his belt buckle. it’s a struggle to unfasten in the dark, but you manage to roughly tear his fly open and fish his hot throbbing cock out of his boxers. you wrap your hand around it, so fat your fingers barely connect— kai lets out a strangled whine as you stroke up to thumb at the tip, thick globs of precum slicking up your hand.

“t-take it off,” kai grits out against your lips, his large hands fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, “please, wanna feel—”

an affirming hum is all he needs, impatiently pulling at the buttons— your blouse pops open with a loud ripping sound, and he pulls both your top and bra down just enough for your breasts to fall out. your nipples harden in the cold air, but they’re quickly warmed up by kai’s fingers. he pinches and tugs at the buds roughly, the sensation making you keen wantonly.

“kai! that shirt was expensive!” you whine, but the hand pumping his cock only strokes faster— you really couldn’t find it within yourself to care much about anything, and you wanted to make sure kai didn’t stop to apologize even more than he already has.

“couldn’t help it, i just love your tits,” kai groans, letting go of your nipples to grope and massage the fat mounds of your breasts. his grip gets tighter with every flick of your wrist, breath coming out in short airy pants. “fuck, you’re so sexy, it makes me g-go insane. running around in those tight tops and those short little skirts, i just want to— ah!— f-fuck you all the time—!”

“kai,” you whimper, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the searing heat growing between them.

“i wish i could see you right now,” he continues, and you jump at the sensation of a hot wet tongue against your nipple. “i could probably cum just from how hot you look— god, i’ve been wanting to do this for forever.”

his plump, spit-slick lips seal around your hard bud, his hands continuing to play with your chest as he sucks and nibbles. you cry out high in your throat, letting go of his twitching cock to crumple your fist in his shirt. your pussy aches to be touched, dripping so much slick you’re sure you’ve completely ruined your panties. kai’s fingers and mouth better than anything you’ve ever felt before, good enough to make you cum from just this alone, but you desperately, wildly, primally need more.

“touch me!” you beg him, pulling him impossibly closer, right where you need him most. “kai, please touch me!”

kai gives your nipple one last tug between his teeth before pulling off with a pop, leaving your breasts covered in his spit and erupting in goose flesh from the frigid air. slowly and carefully he crawls himself between your open legs, sliding his fingers underneath your bunched up skirt. he runs a fingertip down the gusset of your panties, just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make you keen in delight. “you’re so wet,” kai laments, sounding utterly debauched, rubbing between your weeping pussy lips over the lace, circling your clit until you mewl, “made a mess in your panties… did i really make you this wet? that’s so fucking hot…”

he relinquishes his finger, and you’re not sure what you were expecting next, but it definitely wasn’t for him to grab ahold of your pantyhose and underwear and tear them from your body in one powerful yank. the nylon and lace rip like paper, the ghastly sound ringing in your ears, and kai tosses the shredded fabric to the side before positioning himself to kneel between your thighs.

“i’ll do more than touch you if you’ll let me,” he whispers in your ear, running his hand up your inner thigh leaving behind a burning trail in it’s wake, “i wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please, can i? i’ll buy you new clothes, i’ll buy you whatever you want, just let me ruin you…”

“we don’t have a condom…” you breathe, but you widen your legs to give him more room anyway. usually that would be a deal-breaker for you, but you’ve already done more in this closet than you would have ever even dreamed of doing.

“i’ll pull out, i promise.” kai’s voice is far too soothing for your own good, those terrible, god-sent big hands grabbing ahold of the back of your knees to expose you even further. you can hardly think at all anymore, too focused on the throbbing need swirling deep in your pussy, and how good it would feel if you would take the risk and just let go.

“please…” is all you can manage to say, and with a delighted groan huening folds your legs up to rest on his shoulders and positions his weeping cock at your entrance. it feels so filthy, with your torn-up pantyhose still clinging to your legs and your heels hanging from your toes, and once again you wished desperately that you could see just how lewd of a sight the two of you were.

kai slides his cock up and down between your folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with your juices. his bulbous cockhead bumps deliciously against your clit before gliding back down to your entrance, pressing against the rim of your hole just enough to tease before letting up and doing it again. as hot as it is and as good as it feels, you can’t handle any teasing anymore, not when you’ve been on the edge and in need of release for this long.

“put it in,” you beg, and you can hardly recognize your own voice. you sound so needy, so pornographic— it would be embarrassing if you weren’t this far gone. “please, please, need you s’ bad, kai, need your cock—”

kai shushes you with an unexpectedly chaste kiss, sweet and gentle and nothing at all like the way he was thrusting himself inside of your tight wet heat like an animal. the stretch burns so good you nearly scream, his cock longer and fatter than any you’ve ever taken before. for a delirious moment you worry that he’ll tear you in half, that he won’t fit, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he forces his way deeper and deeper, until his tip kisses your cervix and his balls slap wetly against your ass.

“s-so big,” you slur, clawing weakly at his chest, your mouth slack and your mind completely blank except for how impossibly full you feel.

“is it too much?” kai asks you nervously, back to his sweet anxious self for a split second. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t stop myself, pussy’s sucking me in—”

“feels so goo-o-od!” you mewl dumbly, finding it harder and harder to string a sentence together the longer kai is inside of you. “need more, hyuka, give it to me!”

the innocent nickname makes him moan, and just like you wanted and pleaded for he begins to fuck you in sincere earnest. his thrusts are fast and brutal, lit by a deep, primal fire you had no idea kai possessed. it knocks the wind out of you, overwhelmed in the best possible way, your mouth falling slack and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you moan loudly every time his cock spears your cervix.

“deep! so f-fucking deep!” you hiccup breathlessly, surrendering yourself completely to the onslaught of red-hot pleasure. you can feel him in your belly, right under your navel, your wet little pussy squelching obscenely with every movement of kai’s hips. he finds your sweet spot with shocking ease, angling his cock to drag against that spongey bundle of nerves and make you even wetter.

“yeah?” kai croons, thrusting himself inside of you impossibly harder, faster, “feels so good, huh? fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight— best cunt i’ve ever had, baby, feels better than i ever imagined… can’t let you go now, perfect girl all for me. this perfect pussy’s all mine, you hear, no one elses!”

he recaptures your pert nipple between his lips, suckling even rougher than before; your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, sensitive flesh jiggling in his face as he trails his teeth and tongue across the planes of your cleavage, leaving dusky lovebites in his wake. he slobbers over your tits like a hungry dog, his moans and whines muffled by your nipples he takes turns slurping them up into his mouth. the pangs of pleasure from your sore nipples combined with kai’s quickening pace and filthy words tug you closer and closer to the brink of insanity, the fiery hot tsunami building deep within your belly threatening to overflow and toss you into its euphoric depths.

“love you so much,” kai admits as he continues to babble nonsense, seemingly not noticing just what was coming out of his mouth, “been wanting you for so fucking long, needed you  so bad— my pretty girl, so beautiful, wanna see your face when you cum. you must look so sexy when you cum.”

your heart clenches along with your cunt.

there is nothing you can see, but there is plenty you can hear— kai’s hips clapping against your ass, his beautiful broken whimpering, the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around his cock. you open your mouth to speak, voice the mounting ecstasy that built steadily in your throbbing cunt, but you can’t seem to get out anything other than shrill, pathetic cries of pleasure. your mind was wiped completely blank, nothing but static behind your eyes, thoughts filled with nothing except the pressure in your core and how good it would feel if you let it consume you.

“gonna cum!” you wail, using up all your energy into making yourself speak— kai groans happily, his thrusts grow desperate and sloppy, speeding up to pound your sweet spot into oblivion.

“yes! cum with me, angel, come on, you can do it.” he coos, voice shaking as his body jolts and shudders above you. his hands come down to press hard on your engorged, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles against the throbbing bud. “that’s it, make a mess, cum all over my cock!”

your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure as you pulsate and gush around him. you recognize distantly that you’re squirting, droplets of viscous liquid splashing all over your tummy and thighs, drenching huening as well. your release triggers his own climax, and he wrenches out his cock from your quivering pussy just milliseconds before ropes and ropes of thick, sticky cum splatters hot and wet all over your heaving tits.

“holy fuck,” kai whimpers, unable to catch his breath, “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.”

you just giggle weakly, trying to calm down your racing heart yourself; the two of you lay against each other in silence for a moment basking in the afterglow while you both come down from your highs. your orgasm sucked all the life force out of you, it seemed, leaving you weak and exhausted as you lay boneless on the cold storage closet floor.

and just like that, the lights turn back on. the heating system starts back up again. you’re nearly blinded after spending so long in the dark, squinting your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

kai is staring right back at you.

his dark hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks dusted pink. his tie is half-undone and his work shirt is terribly wrinkled, drenched in what you can only assume to be your juices. his softening cock lies against his thigh, poking out from his unzipped fly, slacks just as damp and ruined as his shirt was. his chest heaves with the force of his breaths, no doubt taking in your own appearance himself. you look down just enough to see your torn clothes, your cumstained breasts and wet thighs, your smart professional outfit looking like it was ravaged by some sort of rabid animal.

“you look beautiful.” kai whispers in rapture, gazing down at you with soft melted chocolate eyes.

“um.” you respond smartly, cheeks burning, averting your eyes to check the closet door— the keypad’s light blinks cheerfully at you, as if it had never been turned off in the first place. “do you want to get out of here?”

kai smiles, that signature smile that gives you even more butterflies now than it did before. “do you wanna watch a christmas movie at my place?”

tomorrow x together taglist ; @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi , @numxra , @soobinsbuns , @taegimood , @jeniihss, @soobabby , @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie , @ttaesoob , @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr , @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari , @lurking-coconut , @horanghaelovr , @yyeonzi , @paegesoobin , @nightlyhyuka, @urstylezx , @f4iryfever , @givethnofucketh , @allisonistrashh, @katsukis1wife , @luvtyunn , @tyunzonlystar, @inkigayocamman , @hyunj00 , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @strawberryshoujosundae , @enigmaticaphrodite , @txtistheloml , @jellymochii, @welostthesummer111, @skzooluvr

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©𝚖𝚒𝚞-𝚙𝚘𝚠.𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐。𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍.

[occamstfs]

Ni Hao!NYC

Morally conflicted journalist puts off questions of ethics until it's just too late. Finally assigned to put his name next inflammatory content Sam finds himself more than appreciating Chinese culture.

Various white to Asian Muscle growth and racial change ahead!

Like many, I saw the final pictures on twitter and had to do something with them haha! Ended up with a piece just a tad different than usual! Hope you all enjoy! -Occam

Samuel Johnston knew he worked for a rag but as long as the checks cashed he could afford to mute his conscience. They made money not from sales so much as some rightwing think tank who wants their views affirmed in any way they can get it. So he lays low and pens little puff pieces, avoiding anything too controversial and introduces himself as an accountant to anyone he cares enough to lie to.

He’s quite adept at staying out of sight and mind when it comes to the doling out of any especially charged or problematic issues. Making sure to bury his own work any chance he gets, even using a pen name in case someone accidentally stumbles on his writing. It’s gone well enough so far he thinks! Sam tells himself that really working for NY:Red isn’t that bad, surely it’s even good that he’s got the job rather than anyone who believes the shit they write. Right?

No job is without its problems, he tells himself. So far he’s done a commendable job keeping his nose down with an almost supernatural ability to duck away from bigwigs or management. That is until now as he’s summoned by name to his boss’ side. His proficiency at staying off the radar of management has kept him from a one on one with the man in charge for some time, but now he is sitting on the top floor outside of Mr. Howard’s office, surely waiting to be assigned some horrible project.

“Come in!” Sam hears the surly man shout before promptly stepping into the gaudy office. He’s immediately taken aback as somehow the editor looks almost younger than he does in the many pictures Sam has seen. Sam hides his shock at the man’s jet black hair as well as he hides the general fear and disdain that begins to send adrenaline pumping towards his mind. Mr. Howard doesn't notice at least, getting straight to business, “I can tell from yer writing that ya like the city Sam, can I call ya Sam?”

Samuel opens his mouth to reply but the chief just continues on, “Anyway I love all yer little toilet paper stories but how do ya wanna write with the big leagues?” This time Samuel stays strong and gets a word in before being steamrolled again, “Actually I-” “I’m puttin’ you on the most important case we have Sam. Surely ya’ve noticed all this, what's da word, influx? Invasion? Bah. All the Asian shit that’s startin’ ta creep in on our city’s culture!” Samuel makes an awkward face as despite knowingly working for the racist, it’s different to hear the words out loud.

He holds his tongue out of shock or fear and his boss continues on his diatribe, “The last couple a schmucks I had on the beat just up’n left me high and dry can ya believe it! Old friends I thought!” He grumbles as he scratches his chin, moving away his hand it seems his beard thinned? He shakes his head in irritation and Sam would swear he saw his jowls tighten and wrinkles smooth over. “Anyway kid. Go out and do some prelim research. Have something on my desk by Friday or yer out just like those galoots!” Samuel stands for a second unsure if he’s allowed to leave before his boss looks up to glare with eyes Sam would’ve sworn were blue when he walked in.

Sam rushes out the door and to the elevator, riding it back to his floor, debating between writing a preemptive resignation or keeping mum and keeping on payroll for one last week. Profiteering from a culture war he may be but he’s not about to regurgitate genuinely racist talking points. He taps his foot impatiently as he thinks about just how cushy this gig is though. “Fuck!” He decides to call the only other confirmed decent human being he knows here, his friend Nick who works in the fashion dept.

The two go to grab coffee at a chain next door, Sam tries not to notice how they’ve started selling Vietnamese iced coffee. “Fuck man I can’t do it! Literally just one conversation alone with Howard was a wake up call.” Nick smiles like he has no problems with working for the dirtiest rag in the city, “Chill out Sam. Huward had my manager on the same beat and he, uh, Hidaka said that is said to just look busy for a bit and we won’t need to worry about all this racist shit anymore.” Sam squints his eyes at his friend, he’s not usually so easy breezy about work. He also racks his brain trying to figure out who Hidaka could possibly be. That can’t be his boss. No way Howard would let someone not white lead a department.

Seeing Sam lost in thought Nick reaches out and grabs his hand in a way Sam couldn’t imagine him doing before this second. In fact as the second drags on he stares down in the hand in shock, feeling the warm hand squeeze his forearm. He looks up to his friend’s face searching for any clue to the cause of this odd behavior. Sam smiles awkwardly and half-jokes “Hah hah, uh- Who are you and what’d you do with Nick… Hah.” Nick bursts out laughing, patting him on the arm jovially and leaving a hand larger than Sam remembers resting on his own. “Hidaka-san just showed me how to worry less about this job un?”

Sam inspects him closely for anything amiss, it looks like he’s picked up a bit of a tan? His hair is messier than usual and definitely a little darker, his skin is alluringly smooth and Sam can feel the heat his body is generating despite sitting across from him. Looking at his clothes Sam finds another surprise, his shirt almost looks strained! As if Nick has been hitting the gym for sometime, maybe it’s just been a while since he’s seen his friend in person? 

Assuaged in the slightest, Sam ignores the glowering red flags and follows this lede, “Woah Nick have you been working out?” Nick blushes and Sam at the very least sees his friend is as shy as ever. He goes to scratch the back of his head straining his shirt almost to its ripping point as he responds, “Ah a little haha! どうぞ(please) don’t you worry about me. Since you have no desire to write the article, why don’t you go ahead and check out the little Asian market down the street for fun? It was quite a good time when Hidaka-san brought me earlier this week!”

Sam awkwardly smiles as he wonders why on Earth Sam is suddenly referring to his boss like this, it’s almost like he’s performatively speaking Japanese. Taking a second to pause Sam looks at the haircut as hands unseen style it into something fashionable he puts two and two together. Thinking to himself, ah! Nick must just be a weeb! Tension disappears from his body with a sigh of relief as he wonders how he didn’t notice before now. He gets up to follow his friend’s advice, what better way to stick it to the man than support the people he aims to malign right?

He bucks up and grabs a Vietnamese iced coffee for the road, tossing a “Sayonara,” at Nick with a wink to which he perks up and slightly bows. Man, how did he not notice before Sam thinks yet again. Blissfully unaware, leaving just as kanji symbols appear on Nick’s keyboard and his friend responds to an email in a language he didn’t know this morning. Blue eyes growing coal dark as his tanned, increasingly muscular arms tap away at the keyboard.

Sam spends the bulk of his day at the little Asian street fair and has an absolute blast. Any residual stains on his mind from his unpleasant morning absolutely fade away as he goes from booth to booth sampling cuisine and chatting with diasporic cultures the world over. Time flies as he goes into journalist mode and basically interviews first gen Chinese immigrants about their time in the city. He finds himself beyond immersed in the conversation, continuing to learn from the couple as the tables around them begin to pack up for the day. 

He offers to help the older couple pack up and they happily take the aid, striking him bashful as they talk of what a sweet young man he is. “Wa! 哇强 (strong) Too!” The wife chuckles as she jokingly feels his less than impressive arms. He was having a better time at this little fair than he ever could’ve imagined, enough so that he thinks about going to stick it to Huaward then and there. Huaward? Whatever. His mind slightly off put by whatever that was, in an uncharacteristic act of transparency, Sam lets it slip that he works for NY:Red. The expressions on the kind couple’s faces immediately sour and Sam is quite shocked that they even know what the paper is.

There is a glint in the husband’s eyes as he starts to motion Sam away from any further aid, “谢谢 (Thank you) for your help, Sam. There have been a few, hm, bad men wandering around from that paper and I uh-” He looks around his table and grabs some miijiu they hadn’t put away yet. His wife nods, her face somewhere between rueful and hopeful as she watches her husband offer Sam the glass. “Again, 谢谢, er thank you for your help young man, enjoy this for the road 好的? (Yeah?)” The two turn to each other and begin talking to each other in mandarin alone and Sam takes the hint.

Kicking himself that he fumbled the capstone on such a pleasant afternoon, though finding solace in the rice wine he’s walking away with. He is blissfully unaware as the couple watch him drink and head down the street debating if everyone from that paper really is an asshole. Grimacing as they think about the vitriol spewed at them by NY:Red readers they decide they had no other recourse. Pleasant as he seemed Sam was consciously working on the side of hate and that could not be simply overlooked.

Sam quite enjoyed the rice wine the couple left him with, it immediately smooths over any lasting regret or concern about his interaction with the couple. They don’t know anything about him! He’s nothing like his other coworkers. It feels as if he’s had far more to drink than the small container they left him with should allow, but every time he looks down there always seems to be more mijiu to entice him. It would be impolite not to finish their gift he thinks; his confident stride quickly shifting to a stumble as he wanders home. 

His phone goes off as he gets an email from his boss, Mr. Huang?  Can’t be right. He squints at the email, deciding he must really have overdone it on the mijiu and stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Beyond the obvious difficulties in ambulation being drunk, Sam is unable to notice as his proportions slowly begin to shift. His ever-so lanky body begins to feel dull and heavy as the warmth of the wine fills his chest to capacity and then some as he leans against his apartment door, wiping his feet on an unfamiliar doormat. 

He kicks his shoes off by the door on some new instinct and immediately goes to collapse on the couch. His small sofa creaking as he puts more than his usual dead weight on it. His legs that usually hang off the end lengthen even further as his thighs grow meatier. Pecs press into the cushions as he snores. He is swiftly ushered into an unfamiliar dreamscape, the jubilee of the fair and the bewildering amount of wine he drank produce a vivid carnival of culture in his subconscious.

He sees the old couple at their stand and begins to speak with them in their mother tongue, seeing the delight as a load is taken off their shoulders. His dreamself seamlessly conversing with a fluency unearned. Sam stirs in the waking world as his mind existentially changes to match his morphing body. His blond hair grows thin and longer as its tint stains darker. Twitching in REM the green eyes that he prides himself on speckle with brown before they are entirely overtaken, becoming a rich cacao like the thick eyebrows framing them.

The discomfort of a new language forcing itself into this memory begins to wane as he prides himself on how fluent he is in both Chinese and English. His hand goes to scratch his pecs and he smirks in his sleep as they pulse larger, knowing pride is not the only thing surging within him. At the edges of his mind he feels the memory of learning a language, words written on a blackboard in chalk, English and Chinese both. For the life of him he cannot recall which of the two he’s learning second. An alarm set on his phone blares and he jolts awake to get ready for work.

Throwing on a shirt, Sam freezes as he sees his reflection. Hundreds of little questions seize his mind, those aren’t his eyes are they? Did he dye his hair last night? Are those abs? God his arms look good don’t they!? As they race through his mind and grow rampant they fixate on how attractive he suddenly feels. Rubbing his pecs and feeling them bounce he cries out to himself, “该死！Uhhh, Damn I look good!” He poses in the mirror and takes in every new angle of his powerful body. Taking note as his body hair seems thinner, and decidedly darker wherever it remains. He looks close at his pit seeing his once dense bush of curly hair thin out and straighten, before the memory of even having dense body hair is washed from his mind.

His phone goes off again and his work is immediately brought to the forefront of his mind. “Fuck I didn’t read Huang’s message!” He finds email after email from his boss, only the first few mention the wretched assignment they last talked about. Sam’s eyes widen as he continues to skim through the emails as the topic lines quickly show some drastic re-prioritization from his boss. Only then does he realize that he’s been reading his boss’ name as Huang. His boss is white. Rather his boss’ whole identity is based around being white! Huang isn’t, right? Incredibly he clicks the last email, subject line Vacation, and is immediately greeted with a mouth watering picture of a powerful man. Everything comes to a stop as he can’t help but gawk at this man’s body.

Ni Hao Sanuel- take the day off shi de? Still only half dressed Sam balks at just how bizarre this is, rereading the name Sanuel he is thrown for a loop as his mind reconfigures this. Tearing his eyes from the man’s torso he finally looks at the cocky face and sees a thread he recognizes,  “天啊! (Holy Shit!) That’s Mr. Huang!” He shuts his mouth before he drools like a dog at his boss’ arms. God, this is unlike him though right? He tries to dig through his memories of the editor in chief as the caustic racist he was yesterday, but with each uncovered the image of Huang changes as this dreamboat playboy overrides more of what was.

Sanuel readies to just stay in for this day of assigned vacation before he gets another notification, this time from his friend, Nobu? An image of Nick flashes through his mind, a handprint burns on his arm, and the taste of Vietnamese coffee dances on his lips. “Meet me on the boardwalk うん？” Sanuel rolls his eyes at his friend tacking on Japanese like that, willing his mind not to think about how his friend’s contact ID now says Nobu. Must be one of those, uh, his own thoughts trail off as he successfully abandons concern to head to meet his friend.

Nearing the meeting spot he looks for his usually cleancut friend, the only body present however is a massive Japanese man awkwardly flexing at himself in a reflective surface. Sanuel shyly speaks up, “Ni Ha-, uh Hey? Have you seen a guy named Nick around here?” The apparent bodybuilder beams and goes to engulf Sanuel in a hug shouting, “Oi! Shan! took ya long enough!” His eye twitches hearing the name, as this man effortlessly lifts him off his feet in a hug far too intimate for colleagues, and certainly from whoever this stranger is!

Shan pushes against the massive man, his body heat broiling him on this already warm day. He strains his eyes looking at the man grabbing him and suddenly it hits him, “Nobu?” The man promptly lets him go and pats him on the back with a laugh he would’ve never expected to come from his sheepish friend in the fashion department. “Wanna go have some ice cream or something Shan?” He feels the need to push back against his friend calling him Shan but as he hears it a second time he can’t recognize the names as anything but his own.

Shan pauses as he sees Nobu stop to chat with some Japanese tourists and something about the picture doesn’t sit right. God it’s that talk with Huang getting him all worked up again that,uh, racist? He clutches his head as contradictions between his past and present collide in his head and he slams his eyes shut as he cannot determine what is true about his current reality. Shan falls to the ground with a deep thud, slightly hyperventilating, his body grows larger as he takes deep breaths from the stress.

Hearing him collapse Nobu runs over to help him up, this time with more effort as his friend’s comatose body continues to put on muscle and grow heavier. Still, having the impressive figure he does, Nobu rather easily gets him on a bench and sits next to him, “クソ野郎？(Fuck dude?) You alright?” Shan slowly nods as his friend throws an arm around him. Looking down at his own arms as they pulse with muscle, he feels his eyes strain as the structure of his face begins to change.

Shan's jawline sharpens and his skin smooths. Stubble that has been a cornerstone of hiding his facial blemishes vacates as his hair stains black and flops longer. He feels clarity grace his mind as he stares at large hands on the ends of pale, hairless, muscular arms and he wonders if he is even himself.

He voices these concerns to Nobu who just laughs them off. “Hah! Of course dude, same Shan I’ve always known!” “那- that’s not my name Nobu.” His friend grins shyly in concern for his friend's mind. “It can't be my name. I’m-” grimacing before he continues as it takes everything in his power to speak against the realities in front of him. Memories of a world quite far away, moving to New York long ago, the youngest in a family of Chinese immigrants, “I’m white aren’t I Nobu?” 

Nobu can’t help but laugh again at the beyond bizarre statement. He jokes about Shan hitting his head when he fell. “You’re the most 2nd Gen Chinese わるがき(brat) I know bro! Imma go get us some ice cream while you chill out.” Shan stares at his friend as he abandons him, feeling his eyes tighten as they shift into the monolid eyes that his memories swear he’s always had.

Shan retreats into his mind racing against his changing memories to find a pillar of truth to grasp on. He sees himself at the gym with Nobu, his black mop of hair flicking sweat into the air as he poses with his bro. He sees just yesterday at the Asian fair, helping an elderly couple pack up their table, twitching as he would’ve sworn that went differently. He remembers sitting at the office getting no work done as he plays on his phone, 是的！that’s it! His job. There’s something there, if only he can remember what the problem was there.

He sees Nobu begin walking back with sweet treats, Nobu works at the paper too. Oh 呃/Duh! He smirks as he goes for his wallet to grab a business card. His eyes see the obnoxious red logo he knows before they read text that will send him irrevocably forward, Shun Jiang - Ni Hao!NYC. His body fills with warmth like a machine overworking as his mind races with information about his new reality. Sweat drips from his hair as he can no longer even struggle to recall his claimed existence as a bystander at the vile paper they produced. His brown eyes steep to a dark black as they glaze over.

“Shan-baka! Here’s a popsicle!” Nobu shouts as he returns to his overheated friend who immediately bursts from his stupor. “混蛋!(Asshole!) It’s Shun- thought we were close!” Nobe smirks as he starts to eat his own ice cream. Unable to recall anything too in depth he feels a pause as he wonders what his Japanese friend is doing working for a Chinese newspaper, before he answers it himself. Clearly his subconscious is more at place in whatever new reality he faces. Their paper is for all NYC’s Asian immigrants. Nobu works writing, or more often modeling, for Konnichiwa!NYC! Huang really was a genius for the idea.

Shun smiles, thinking fondly of his boss as he enjoys the short break from the summer heat that Nobu brought him. Back at the headquarters of their paper everything shifts from the rag it was and into a paper connecting the disparate Asian immigrants of the city, printed in any language they can find translators for, Ni Hao, Konnichiwa, Annyeonghaseyo, Namaste!NYC. Each day striving for a better, more inclusive New York City. Shun beams with his new face, no longer burdened with the just concern of his peddling vitriol, instead possessed with a desire to spread his culture far and wide.

———————————————————————————

As I was writing I remembered a similar series by the now gone Dumb-and-Jocked!

If interested do check out Horizon Zero: One, Two, and Three for quite a different take on a journalism themed Racial Change!

[hiiikiko]

𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 [3] : casual

“Such a fuckin’ tease.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

ellie williams x femme!reader | friends with benefits

tlou m.list | casual m.list

tw: touching (not smut), swearing, and confusion

���₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Mornin, doll,” was all you had to hear, you were fucked beyond comprehension. No way, the girl infamous for never contacting her one night stands, would hire you.

“H-hey,” you stutter out, Ellie looks over at you from the door of her office, “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

You rush over to her office and plop yourself down on a chair next to her messy desk, full of doodles, posters, sticky notes, cds and coffee cups.

“So, doll, why do you wanna work here?” You can barely register what she’s saying, her green eyes are now behind a pair of glasses that frame her face perfectly and even bring out the green in her eyes.

“Uh, to be honest, I just really need something to pay the bills,” you sigh defeatedly, half expecting her to outright reject you anyway so why lie? Instead of her telling you that you’re ‘not the right fit,’ you hear her chuckle and the two most glorious words leave her lips, “You’re hired.”

Your first week consists of Ellie teaching you how to put away vinyl, how to clean vinyl, how to organize the inventory, how to put said inventory into the system, how to search for the inventory, and how to work the register. Ellie was a great teacher, although, she was a little handsy at times, the way she would put her arm around you when she would teach you how to put money in the register, the way her hands would hold your waist to “prevent you from falling off the ladder,” and the way she would every now and then, run her hands along your arm.

Besides Ellie’s constant flirting, work had been pretty good. Abby didn’t like it but she put up with it because she understood you needed a job, customers seemed to like you and more importantly, so did your coworkers who you quickly became friends with, following each other on instagram and sending tiktoks to each other. You and your coworkers were all mutuals, well, except for Ellie which was fine, you think.

Everything was fine until, ding!

Ellie Williams (eltheinfectd) started following you.

“Fuck,” you squeal out, shooting up from your comfortable position on your bed and putting your snack down and quickly push the notification.

Sure enough, it was Ellie, alright. There were no pictures of her face but you could tell. The pretentious captions paired with obnoxious pictures of bass guitars, dogs, and mirror outfit pics all screamed Ellie. If that weren’t enough to convince you it was her, the comments flooded with girls trying to get her attention did, you scoff and decide to ignore her.

Ellie Williams wants to send you a message.

You groan and click on it.

eltheinfectd: come on, follow me back, doll. don’t be lame

you: no way, I am not going to be mutuals with my boss

eltheinfectd: i think our relationship is far beyond being just “mutuals” lol

You dislike the message and your attention goes back to the show you were watching but then bzzt bzzt bzzt!

eltheinfectd: come onnnnnnnnnnnn

eltheinfectd: dolllllllllll

eltheinfectd: i’m not gonna stop botherin u

You groan and click that little blue button.

eltheinfectd: thanks, doll ;)

Since that night, Ellie hadn’t messaged you again, nor, has she even viewed your story, stories that you actually put effort in. Doing your hair and makeup, making Jesse take pictures of you all for her to not view them but, they did gain a lot of likes from your followers.

Instead of Ellie viewing your stories, you noticed her little fan girls stalking your stories instead. How annoying.

Whatever, they don’t concern you. You need to focus on this job and your upcoming gig. You and the band had performed a total of 7 venues in the past two weeks and had even gained a small following, mainly one of girls who were all over Abby, Manny, and even you at times. All was looking good, you even had an upcoming booking at the bar you had first seen Ellie in.

So in preparation for that, you were nonstop practicing and doing exercises to help your vocals. It was a bigger bar and a lot of bands had played there before, so, yeah, you were pretty damn nervous.

At work, you’d try writing some new songs to distract yourself from everything, Ellie would occasionally peak over your shoulder and give you unwelcomed criticism. You wished you could just make her shut up, she was constantly teasing you at work, even calling you doll in front of your coworkers and customers, saying you’re her best employee, and finding any window to touch you.

Once, she even brought you into her office, leaning against her desk, she made you sit down in front of her.

“That skirts a little short, dontcha think, doll? Hm?”

Her hands dragged on the inside of your exposed thighs, making you self conscious as you tried to pull your skirt down a bit, “Sorry, Ellie..”

“Mm, don’t wear something that short again, it’s, uh, pretty distracting,” her eyes roamed over them again as she bit the cap of her pen.

It was things like that made you go crazy, her constant teasing was driving you up the wall and what was worse is that she would never take things further.

For instance, one night the both of you were closing up together. She had you pressed against a shelf in the back of the shop, her hands pulling your thighs up against her, her hands making their way to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss when she suddenly stopping and mumbling something about forgetting to feed her dogs before rushing you out and locking up, leaving you hot and bothered.

She was cruel. What the hell was up with her? She’d lead you on just to leave you over and over.

After countless times she abandoned you, you decided to do the same to her, you knew that she had plans to go to the bar where you would be playing that Saturday. So earlier in the evening, you invited her over saying that Jesse told you to give her a package that was delivered from her Joel.

When Ellie arrived, you answered the door in a cropped tank top, enough to show some cleavage and some shorts, you were pretty sure Ellie had a thing for thighs. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you when you went to retrieve the box, finally, after a few minutes, Ellie came up behind you and put her hands on your hips.

“You have no idea how fuckin’ good you look right now, doll,” she smiled against your skin.

You played into it, pressing your ass against her hips and guiding her left hand up into your shirt.

“Why don’t we take this to your room, hm?” She mumbled out.

You whimper from her hand making its way into your shorts and as much as it killed you to say it, you managed to rasp out, “Can’t, gotta get dressed, have a thing t’night.”

You pushed Ellie off and lead her to the door, waving bye before slamming the door, Ellie looked so frustrated as she made her way off.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” she muttered under her breath.

Getting ready had to be your favourite part besides the actual performance, getting to do your hair and makeup made you feel nice. Tonight, you’d wear some ripped tights, pleated plaid skirt, black cropped tank top, and some jewelry with your hair down. You looked nice, dressed up a little more for this particular concert as you hoped to tease Ellie a little more there.

You couldn’t wait.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

taglist: @elliessweetheart @bready101

[sukioyakio]

His little Stress Relief

genre: fluff just fluff,(the title doesn’t sound fluffy to me,it probably the amount of amount of smut I read 🤷‍♀️😔🤪💖 Will have some bit of angst

SUMMARY: Sometimes your 6’9 foot tall man can be an little bit clingy at times.

Author note: “I just love me an big Buffy guy being such an clingy and cuddly guy towards their girlfriend (I’m not forgetting about my guys here)anyway I’ve been changing the way how my intro a lot 😭😔🤪.”

ANYway hope you like it.

It was an very busy stressful week for Miguel,everything and everyone was annoying him.The entire spider society was just so stressful to deal with,and when he didn’t have to deal a lot,those stuipd anomaly kept popping up,left and right.

But knowing miguel,he deals with it pushing his body to the limit.He will protect the spider society no matter what,But that doesn’t make him tried and exhausted from working,fighting,yelling at people who get on his skin.The achy scars and bruises on his skin were an pain to deal with.And right now He was in his office or bat cave whatever people says,he was standing on his platform with holograms around.Grumbling about to Lyla to tell some of the spiders that they have an mission to do,and him typing out the information about these anomalies.

peter b Parker who was walking with Jessica drew,they were coming back from their mission,and were going towards to Miguel little bat cave.

“Ughhh,it’s been such a busy week” Peter says in a tired voice,as he stretches his back and his shoulders.

“Oh c’mon now,at least your not the one who has to collect all the mission reports”Jessica says with an annoyed look on her face,sighing at the work that she will have to do later.As she rubs her swollen stomach walking towards Miguel office.

Peter just let out an amused scoff out,as they were walking down the hallway towards the BIG BOSS.

“Don’t you think Miguel would let us slack off for a day!! I haven’t seen my lovely wife and daughter”peter says with a whiny voice,as he made a loud dramatic sigh.

Jessica sigh with a playful smirk on her lips. “Aye man at least after this,we can take a long ass break,cuz my ass need it”She says with a sarcasm,as she let out a chuckle.

Peter suddenly remembered how much Miguel calmed down he was after his wife when Peter asked her if she could come over to talked (helped) him out with Miguel.In which peter had that dorky grin that only means that he had another wonderful idea.

In which Jess turned to look at peter face and saw that grin which in her mind means “he gonna get his ass kick again”,but right before she could say anything to Peter.

“Gotta go bye for now— I’ll be back!” As he zapped off to where Miguel’s wife was.

“DONT do!!— something that will get your ass in the hospital” Jess says in an loud tone but soon lower as she get more closer to Miguel office,she always says that his office is so far away,she rolls her eyes to the back of her head,and letting an scoff out her lips.

She enters Miguel man cave,her heavy but professional steps could be heard from the man who was standing up on his little platform,As she walks in an steady pace and was finally met with Miguel batman era.She stands an few steps ahead but wasn’t quite at the edge of the cliff.She looks up at Miguel,with her one of her hands on her hips and the other one was rubbing her pregnant stomach.

“Ahem” She says loud enough for him to put down his attention from all the work he was doing and putting himself through.Miguel eyes have this dark circles under his eyes,you can tell that this men take his dedication and time for all he does for.But there time where all he takes is to come home to his lovely wife,who his stress reliever.But he does this so people doesn’t have the same fate as him or try to do what he did,nor to do anything that would cause them any harm.

He turned his head towards Jessica,looking down at her,with a sternly expression on his face.He clicked something on his watch to make the platform start moving down towards the ground,very . . . Slowly. very slowly.Jessica wasn’t bothered by it at all,it just meant that she had a time to herself to calm down and free her mind from work.

And in which off letting the platform on the ground nope,he just kept it fairway there,and so he looked at Jess with a sternly and serious expression,and that instantly imitating persona he had.

“Bueno, ¿cómo fue la misión?,and where the hell is Peter”Miguel says in an seriously voice,as one of his eyes brow raises up in question of where would that idiot of the worlds most talkative person you would ever meet,would be possibly be.As he stares at Jess for an good minute before letting out an annoyed sigh,pinching the bridge of his very strong nose,grunting at how much of an goof ball peter is.

“Well I came here to say that the mission was a success,but the part with Peter,better watch out for him and don’t kill him we need him” she says with an playful laugh as she walks out the door with an open smile on her face.

To which Miguel rolls his eyes to back of his head,and went back to work and there he was back working in his bat cave.Calling Layla to inform him about any updates about the anomaly’s,and to inform the other spider in the spider society.Some times layla would be annoying (an tease) to him.But after an hour or so,(peter was having difficulty finding which house is Miguel house) Peter finally came with you into Miguel office,with his cheeky techniques.

Miguel didn’t even get a chance to react to when Peter opened the portal onto his platform.

“Hello!!Big Boss” peter say with a cheerful voice,having a bright smile on his lips.”Look who I brought with him”he says with a warm smile.

The moment he turned around he saw you,with Peter.Holding a worry smile on your face.While peter was standing there with a cheeky expression,Miguel let out an annoyed sigh towards peter.He face was turning more angry then before,his eyes turning the color red.

“¡¡Por qué carajo!!Did you bring my wife here WITHOUT MY DAWN MALDITO permission!” He says with a raging voice,practically shaking the ground,easily making peter gulped down his own saliva.”im soooooooooo getting my ass in an hospital bed” peter said in his head of thoughts.

But luck was on his side for now. . .

“Peter go back doing work I’ll have a little chat with my husband”you said softly as ever to him,with a calmly smile.Giving him a look that gesture for him to leave.In which he did,He left with an awkward chuckle,and he gone.

Now you and Miguel were now alone in his big bat cave.Miguel aromatically regretted for having you see him get angry at his co worker.He hated for you to see him anger,he was insecure about how you felt about him.You words were the light of joy to his ears,but your words could be the ones that made him feel trapped.If he ever told you that he’ll be so vulnerable towards you his wife.Your the thing,the love,the drug,the crave,the addiction that he would never get over.

He was probably over thinking for a while,that he woke up from your reassuring touch.Pulling him to the ground so he could lay down on your thighs.He would do anything for you.

“Until death due us apart”

Now you both are on the floor on Miguel floating platform in silence;comforting silence.

You were sitting upright while patting,scratching, rubbing your hands against Miguel scalp.He looks like a little boy who only wanted to be next to his mama.After a few more minutes of the comfortable silence.You knew that he was very insecure about himself,especially after getting married and even before getting married,when you two were boyfriend and girlfriend,you knew he had some insecurities.

“Miguel I love you . .” You says with a calmly voice,calming him down.

Signal him to talk about what happened during this week

He instantly opened up about what happened at work,and all the exhaustion he endured,and the BS he gotten this week,basically vented about how much work and Be an hero was like a curse and an blessing.

He had that Grumpy Pouty on his beautiful lips,he just an enough of laying on the floor-ahem platform,and So he pulls you down on the floor,as he lays comfortably on tops of you.

You let out a light headed chuckles,He was your big scary,intimidating husband who can break any guys bones,but right now he’s acting very clingy with you.

You let him know that your love him so much,that seeing him like this pains you slowly but deeply in your heart.He was laying on top of your chest,in between of your breast.Letting him melt all his problems away.

“I’m sorry. . .no lady should have to seen what had happened with my co worker” he says with his eyes closed not wanting to be seen vulnerable.

As he continues to mumble apologies,to the point that he says like a whiny child.You couldn’t help but laugh at him being a whiny cringy child.

“What so funny about me apologizing,mhmm cariño”he said to you as he raised his head to look at your eyes. Seeing you laugh,seeing you felt like the world was pause,his body felt so calm.

“Ha-ha,your are my clingy hobby.You could be one whiny old man.” You said with a playfully voice,as you felt him lift your body put you into his laps.You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m not an old man,nor a whiny kid.Im literally just 3 years older then you” Miguel says with a whiny voice,as he rolls his eyes.

You know he love it.You already know that he’s ok,that he is no more tense.

“I still love you gramps” you said as you leaned towards his face to give him a passionate kiss,which he accepted.Love was felt through your body.

as you both end the kiss,leaning on each other forehead.

“I love you” you said softly with a warm smile.

“Yo también” he says softly with a warm smile.

THE END

I hope y’all like it,and I probably suck explaining the positions of them but IM trying 😄 anyway I hope y’all enjoy it,but I low key think I put so much fluff here

THE QOUTE OF THE DAY: by an friend

“THE day can be boring when nothing eventful happens”

✌️

[spctrsgf]

to his office

prompt #351 from @/lyralit: 

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You’re very welcome to do it.”

word count: 3.8k

warnings: spidey!reader (tried to make it gn, lmk if i messed anything up!), language, my shitty spanish, innuendos but no actual sex

a/n: i saw atsv and miguel was SO SCRUMPTIOUS i had to write this

“HOBIE!” You yell at the aforementioned Brit, narrowly missing a chunk of some building that is being thrown at you. “I bloody know!” He yells back, swinging from the building next to you.

You nudge your head to the left as a signal to him, releasing a quick whip of web to maneuver behind a rough, brick building to land on the side of it. Hobie wasn’t too far behind, and Gwen was soon to your left as well. The three of you heave in heavy breaths, synchronous in your silence. The inevitable stomp of the angry anomaly of the week roams in search of the very people next to you as well as yourself. 

“She just does not give up, does she?” Hobie quips, filling the silence.

“Well,” Gwen adds. “We did make her angry.”

“We? You were the one who threw a brick at her, mate.”

“And who’s idea was it to do that?”

“It was a bloody joke!”

“It didn’t sound like it–”

“Okay!” You exclaim, cutting their childish argument in half. “Enough. Back to defeating the Wannabe Crab woman, okay?”

“Right,” Hobie answers, quick to drop his anger like usual. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“We gotta trap him somewhere, but this fucking city is endless. It’ll take forever.”

“I think we gotta get her hands tied,” Pavitr says from above, nearly desticking Gwen from the brick wall in surprise. “That’s where the power is, right?”

“Jeez, Pav,” You yelp, coming down from your initial shock. “We didn’t see ya there.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, but seriously. I think we gotta tie her hands!”

“He’s right, that would solve all the cement throwing we got going on.” Hobie agrees, shifting to lean on the windowsill next to him.

You tilt your head. “Do ya think webs’ll be strong enough for that one?”

“Ours? Nah.” 

“True, but Miguel’s would do us a solid right now with all this.” Pav interjects.

“He’s right. We need those ever so strong webs your boyfriend has to do the job.” Gwen nudges you with her shoulder.

Your cheeks flame, and you’re eternally grateful for the silky mask you have on. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Gwen! We’re not– he doesn’t– oh my god,” You pinch the bridge of your nose as best you can through the mask. “Back on topic!”

“Seriously,” Hobie nods. “You should ask the lad to help us out.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

All you get is a shrug from him.

“Or you, Gwen? Or Pav?”

They all give you a look, a look that tells you exactly what they’re thinking.

“No. Oh my god, guys! Seriously? He doesn’t like hearing from me, anyways.”

That’s true, you firmly believe it, and you have ever since you first got to Nueva York. Being the person you are, you originally doted around the idea of talking to him, of engaging in a conversation. But, to be frank, he scared you shitless. He towered over your stature, a whopping 6’9” to your pacifying build. But, somehow you found yourself standing next to a nonchalant Hobie, watching his floating platform float impossibly slow towards the two of you after a mission. 

He’d been… you could tell right away that Miguel wasn’t the type of person to sugar coat nor was he very good at hiding the emotions that flew across his face, because oh my you felt it. You felt the trail of his scarlet gaze as he took in his first impression, you felt the razor sharp cut of disgust, felt the way his tongue ran along his accentuated canines as you rambled through your report. 

He’d dismissed you as quickly as humanly possible, opting to talk to the laid back Brit, the one who didn’t have to clear his voice every few sentences. Maybe it was a force of habit, you’d tried to reason as your head bowed to scurry out of the room. He has been working with Hobie longer, there has to be an ease between them. 

But, as time passed, Miguel remained the same. He tossed you a cold shoulder, and seemed to avoid your presence unless needed. You tried to shrug it off, to pretend like it didn’t hurt you as much as it did, but it was hard to pretend when the sting of rejection slapped as soon as he was brought up. Which actually happened a lot. 

You weren’t sure where Gwen had gotten boyfriend from that. Sure, you thought he was attractive. It was hard not to with his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to his (slutty) waist. There was something about his fangs that intrigued you, it was something you’d never seen before. And it wasn’t just the appearance that did it for you: it was that under all the anger and the rough exterior and the mask was a man, vulnerable and caring and wanting to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else.

He might be blunt and mean and pushy and all those things, but he came from a truly caring place, from a want to help. You could see that shine through in the way Gwen and Hobie and even Lyla talked about him, and you could see that in the mission notes he writes and in the slim amount of time that you were graced with his presence. 

“That’s why.” Gwen’s voice shakes you clear of the memories. 

“Wha?” You blink incredulously at her, like that would somehow shock you into understanding her sentence. 

She shoves your wrist, which hovers in front of you with the button to call Miguel in a booming orange. “Call him.”

You glare at her, but all that earns you is a tilt of the head and a not-so-encouraging punch from Pav. “Fine! Fine.”

You take a deep breath before hitting the call button. It sends off some sort of interdimensional wave towards Nueva York, and you buzz with a different type of frequency, suddenly nervous. The Miguel effect. Your brain blurts. Always nervous. You sigh and remind yourself that there are three other spiderpeople next to you as the call goes through, and Miguel’s face pops up unceremoniously in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Uh, well, you see–” You start, only to be rudely cut off by his attitude. “Get to the point. I don’t have all day.”

The blunt words don’t roll off your back like normal, maybe it was because you could hear the anomaly pound, inching closer. “We need help. We need your webs, they’re stronger and can hold this guy’s claws together. He’s been tearing up the city.”

“You’re supposed to be containing the threat, not me.”

“Miguel, if you don’t get your fucking ass over here right now, all four of us are gonna be dead.”

“Doubt it.” He sounds distracted, like he was observing something else in front of him.

“Seriously? You can’t take two seconDS..!” You cut yourself off to launch off the building as the anomaly slams her fist into the spot you were rested at just a few seconds before. 

You go to follow your partners in chasing the monster away from the buildings, to yell at the stubborn man currently still on call from the watch encircling your wrist, but your spidey senses perk up and then you’re swinging back towards the anomaly. Your eyes train on a woman, not much older than thirty, running for her life from the gnarly creature above her.

You don’t think. Normally, you’re all about thinking and finding the best course of action to try and save everyone, but you don’t now. Not when you’re so short on time, not when that woman could die. You dive, holding your arms out as you beeline to the poor woman. Her face turns from fear to relief when she sees you, reaching out to grab your hand as you scoop your arm around her waist and carry her to the nearest roof.

You’re off before she can say a word, and the glance back you lend her tells you that she knows exactly why you couldn't linger and conveys the thank you she couldn’t say to your face. It fuels you, and you move quickly, pulling the anomaly farther and farther from the people. “Are you a quiet one, huh?” The anomaly’s voice is low and gravelly. “I’m always up for a little banter.” You shoot back, taking a quick left to navigate to where you see your partners waiting, hidden and ready to attack. 

“Alrighty then, let’s banter!”

“Let’s.”

“Are you expecting me to now spew out my whole plan and sob story, cus it ain’t happening.”

You shrugged. “Nah. Most of you don’t anyway.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” You shake your head, coming to a stop. “We usually have you caught by that time.”

Right on cue, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie shoot webs out, attempting to contain the anomaly. You realize, as you're adding your own webs to the mix, that Miguel must’ve hung up the phone during your little fright. “What happened with the boss? We getting that bloody help we need?” Hobie calls out, tightening his grip. “Dunno!” You call back. “Maybe he hung up.”

“Call him back, eh?”

“I- I can’t! This is harder than it looks.”

“We know!” Gwen screeches, voice strained.

“What do we do, guys?” 

“Try and hold on.” Pav’s voice is uncharacteristically dim, lacking its normal cheer.

His tone sinks into your stomach. “What if we don’t–” 

“You will,” Miguel’s voice crackles from your wrist. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Uh–” You risk a look around as the anomaly struggles with a scream. “Open field. I can see an ocean from here, and there’s mountains to my right. Actually, I think it’s a river– we’re at a bend in it.”

“Got it. I know where you are, I’ll be there in a minute tops. Stay on the phone with me, okay?” 

“Will do.”

“He won’t be here in time.” You look up at the anomaly, her deep green eyes locked unsettlingly with yours. She yanks hard this time, and you see Gwen nearly topple and Hobie’s footing slip slightly, giving her arms more wiggle room. “Yes he will.” Your jaw sets as you shoot another web to wrap around her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees.

“You’ll lose. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Spiderman. Losing.”

“Crazy? Yeah, cus it won’t happen.” Gwen grunts from above, struggling to keep a clean facade.

“I’m almost there, cariño, hold on.”

“I am, we’re fine–”

And then you’re not. Because the anomaly bursts up in a spur of movement, effectively breaking the confinement you four had put on her. She runs forward, taking a straight track for you. You leap up, swinging away as quickly as you can. You pick through the strain on your forearms, through the cloud of fear in your head. You try to stay in the same general area you told him you’d be in, but it’s hard with the anomaly on your heels. 

“Miguel! Help, she’s chasing me, I can only keep her away from me for so long–”

“I know, I know, I’m coming. Hold on.”

But you’re not responding anymore. The anomaly swings a mighty claw straight into your abdomen, effectively sending you into the ground. Pav lets out a scream, sliding to catch you before you can slam into the grass, and Miguel knows something is wrong. You can hear his yells and Pav’s telling you to respond, but the pain in your side is excruciating and your brain feels like mush and your mouth is dry like sandpaper and your vision is tunneling into black and you try to speak but–

…

It’s very dark.

That’s the first thing you notice when you come to. It’s nice. But there’s an off putting feeling about it, like something’s lurking in the dark, and then you’re itching to turn on the lights so you can see something. “You have something covering your eyes, you do realize that.” Miguel’s smooth tone slides in from the left, decorating across the bland abyss.

Ah. So that was the problem.

Your arms feel foreign as you reach up to pull the fabric off your eyes, exposing you to the room you were in, only slightly brighter than before. “Lyla said the mask was supposed to help you heal better,” Miguel starts, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look at the man next to you quite yet. “I listened, she’s better at this than I am.”

“Am I not in the infirmary?” You question, before frowning at the way your voice sounded. You sit up, clearing it a few times.

“You were, but I moved you.” 

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you in there.” He answered bluntly, yet it lacked any substance at all.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You chuckled dryly. “Miguel, you moved me from the fucking infirmary to your office. I think you owe me a damn explanation.”

“No.” He turns away, slinging a web out to launch him onto his floating platform.

“Miguel–” 

“No.” The orange screens encircle him, effectively slamming his hard tone into the flow of conversation that wasn’t really flowing anymore.

You frown, half sat up in the bed that he’d placed you on. You’re frustrated, you don’t understand what’s been going on between you and him. He hated you. You’d previously established that, his vibrant reaction to your question confirmed it. But he saved you. And he moved you into his fucking office. 

Your head swims with this new information, and you flop back down unceremoniously onto the bed. Your head tilts automatically to him again, the fiery red in the bleak, monotone room. His back is to you, and he’s furiously tapping at something on one of his many screens. The boldness of his stature, the way he’s standing is so unwelcoming that you’re now sure he never really wanted you there at all.

You sit up and hop out of the bed as quietly as you can, even though you know he can probably hear you in the silence that enveloped you both. Yet he doesn’t react, he doesn’t turn and yell like you thought he might. He stayed stoically and almost stubbornly facing his screens, so you turn and slip towards the door.

Fucking say something, Miguel.

He doesn’t. You don’t know what you expected anyways. 

So you continue your walk, your path out of noose that the room brought. Yet, steps to the hallway seem harder and harder to make, like the hallway is getting longer or maybe you’re moving a lot slower than you normally do. You move to shoot a web, hoping to gain traction and move somewhat faster, but you can’t quite get your aim right– 

And then your vision is fluctuating and you start to feel unbalanced. You’re not moving. You’re moving your feet, but you’re not going anywhere. Your brain is fuzzy and the ground is getting closer than it normally is- you don’t remember being this short? “Ay, cariño!” Is exclaimed from behind you, and then something’s grabbing onto your back and pulling you back upright.

Miguel has his arm wrapped around your waist as you wobble, guiding you back to the bed and then lifting you up to sit on it. Your hands come up to rub your eyes, trying to get them to refocus. They blur and then unblur, finally resting to take in your wobbly hands, which are held out shakily in front of you. In response, you twist your hands together just enough to feel the pain of it, reminding you that you were in fact awake and aware. 

“Are you okay?” It’s then that you realize that Miguel is still in front of you. He’s got you caged in, blanketing you in his grand shadow. Your neck cranes up to reach his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let your eyes linger during their ascent. When you meet the scarlet of his irises, you’re taken aback by the level of concern in them. Like he was actually worried about you. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, tilting your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He scoffed, but didn’t move away. “I’m not worrying.”

“If there’s one thing you’re bad at, Miguel, it’s lying.”

“I am a great liar.”

“Oh?” 

“Dios mio, cariño, yes.”

“What does that mean, anyway?,” You question, rocking backward to tuck your feet underneath your legs. “I tried to get Lyla to tell me, but she will not let the secret loose.”

He freezes. “Nothing, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“You do realize I can just search it up, right? Would you rather me find out from the reach of the internet?”

“Not really, what if you just don’t–”

“Miguel.” You rise onto your knees, leveling your gaze with his own and resting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re saying you’re in love with me or something.”

“Well–”

“Right, cus that would be like…” Your words tumble over him, your brain too keen on keeping your feelings, your delusions to yourself. “Te amo? Te quiero? I’m not sure…”

“Either one.”

“Yeah, so it’s not one of those, so what is it?”

He takes a deep breath, looking slightly troubled. His face twists his face up like he’d just bit into a lemon, and then you’re panicking again.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that–”

“It’s a term of endearment,” His voice stops your apologies in their tracks. “It literally means affection, but when you use it as a nickname it’s more like sweetheart or darling. Dear is another way to say it, but you get the point.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry about that–”

“Don’t be,” Your head tilts with his, following the way he turns his gaze away from you in embarrassment. “I like it.”

He meets your eyes again, curiosity and hope strung in his vibrant eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. The way you say it is so satisfying, if that makes sense.”

“You like when I speak Spanish, huh?”

You nod, and suddenly you’re the one hiding your face from his smirk. 

“Querido, mírame.”

“Miguel–”

“Ahora. I won’t ask again.”

You sigh, glaring at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn,” He leans down and then innnn, so that the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I know you can do it.”

“Do you?” Your brain is screaming at you, making you even more painfully aware of his proximity to your face, yet you somehow manage to clearly deliver the line. 

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s only cus I’ll have the best teacher. You.” You hit his nose with your finger, catching him off guard.

“I am happy to take that title.” 

“Good.”

He hasn’t moved. Even as the room fades into silence, he hasn’t moved. He’s still so close, like you could lean in, barely four inches, and you’d be kissing him. You can smell him, a tinge of metallic blood yet so earthy and centering. It’s intoxicating: your brain is swimming and you're struggling to keep your head above the water. 

Cariño. Sweetheart. A term of endearment. You still haven’t quite wrapped your head around that, not that you’ve been given much time to mull over it. Was that him telling you that he liked you, more than a friend? Was that a normal thing, using that term? You didn’t know, but you had a feeling that would be the best confession from him you were getting, if he meant it that way at all. You were gonna have to make the leap yourself.

“Everything okay?” His hand lands on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that you’d been staring into nothingness for what must’ve been a painfully long time for him. “Yeah,” You stumble to regain your words. “Sorry, I-” 

“Spaced out.”

“Yeah.”

He nods, smiling just enough so you could see his fangs peek out. You were caught.

“Migu–”

“I could kiss you right now, you know that?”

“Huh?” stumbles stupidly out of your now slack jaw.

“I could kiss you. You’ve been staring at my lips for the past few minutes, mi amor, whether you realize it or not.”

“I have? Oh my god.”

He chases your drifting gaze, just like you did with his. “It was cute.”

“Cute is a word I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Cállete, you hear me? Shut up.” 

You giggle, grabbing his hand and sliding it up to fit comfortably on the back of your neck. “You wanna kiss me, O’hara? You’re very welcome to do it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Now he’s leaning in, closing in those four painstaking inches to lock lips with you.

And it’s insane. Showstopping. Any kisses you had before then? Not even a fucking kiss. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first– mainly you, you suppose– but it worked itself out. Miguel must’ve really gotten into it, because once you swear he nipped at your bottom lip with those fangs of his, just hard enough to draw blood. Your hands, in the meantime, explored his mass of brown curls, previously smoothed back but released by your fingers.

His own hands nestled themselves in your hair, tugging on it just enough to draw a sigh out of you. He tastes like blood– surely yours– yet ever so homey. You lean into him inadvertently, so content in the moment. The rational part of your brain reminds you that you’d probably suffocate if you kissed him for much longer, but nothing in you cared very much about that fact at all. 

In the end, it’s him who takes a dip for air, who drags your face off of his reluctantly to gasp softly. You do the same, resting your forehead on his toned chest. His hand, still in your hair, guides you gently back up, just so he can absorb your appearance and vice versa. It’s crazy, taking him in like this. He looks so out of control, his hair disheveled and his lips puffy and his cheeks red, releasing air in quick puff puffs. You’re sure you’re not much better looking.

“Out of breath already?” He says, head tilted with a goofy sort of grin adorning his face. “I’m regaining it currently, don’t tease.” You puff back at him, dropping your head back onto his chest.

“Oh, but teasing you is the best part.”

You stab a finger into his side. “Be quiet.”

“If you fare like this, mi alma, you won’t last very long where we’re headed.”

Your head whips up, equal parts confusion and frustration. “First of all, I’m fine. Second of all, what?”

“C’mon.” he pulls you off the bed.

“Are we sure I can even–”

His arm is around your shoulders, hand clamped tightly around it to squeeze you reassuringly. “I got you.”

“Thanks.” Your smile towards him is mushy, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care.

“De nada,” He smiles back, and you mentally note to tease him about his softness later on. “Let’s get all the way to home plate, huh?”

“Let’s.”

feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, everyone, before i run out of ideas

[cosmitton]

seeing a cute boy outside of a restaurant at night

Johan Seong x F!Reader (foreigner)

A/N: I haven’t written in so long and this is the first thing I’ve ever written for Lookism, so I’m nervous lol. The reader in this is described to be a foreigner, but I don’t describe what she looks like, so I hope that’s okay. She’s based off of one of my Lookism OCs but I thought it’d be better to write it as a Reader instead. I also won’t be using (Y/N) or anything like that bc I think it takes away from the flow of the writing/dialogue. Also, I think this takes place a little after the God Dog arc where Johan’s on his own again.

It’s not really romantic in this, but I’m thinking of making this a sort of series of one shots with this Reader specifically. Please lmk if Johan is OOC, bc I’m not confident in writing him haha. Anyways, hope you enjoy! c:

The nights are still cold at this time of year in Seoul. Not that you can really feel it at this point from where you are, starting the process of cleaning up and closing the restaurant. After having been cooped up in the small kitchen in the back of the hole-in-the-wall building you work at, finally done cooking after several hours, the space is well and truly stuffy by now. You were even a bit sweaty, in contrast to the people you can see pass by the windows outside that are trying to stay bundled up against the wind chill.

“Alright,” your boss walks into the back to join you, “you’ve been holed up in here long enough, I’ll take care of this. You go deal with the front.”

As if it’s ingrained in his mind as instinct, he swats at your back with the hand towel he grabs before you can protest that you can do it yourself and he should rest. You laugh slightly at the older man, deciding that you’re too tired anyway to argue with him right now.

You leave behind what you were working on to go out into the front of house in order to count down the register and go about cleaning and packing up the floors and tables. You work silently, comforted by the sound of your boss cleaning in the back and the distant hum of life filtering in from behind the windows and locked door.

“Mr. Terrence,” you call as you walk toward the back doors, “I’ll take the trash out now.”

“Thanks, kid.” He replies as you grab the black bags in both hands.

It’s as you walk outside, hit by the cold and slightly regretting not grabbing your jacket first, that you see him. A slim, brown-haired boy sitting by the mouth of the alley between your workplace and the building next door. He’s curled up like he’s trying to hide, in a way, with his knees drawn up tight and facing slightly away from you. When you glance over at what he’s looking at, you see two small dogs not far from him.

You try not to stare as you pass by, but it is weird to you. There’s not usually anyone out here, especially at this time of night and in this weather – and if there is, they’re usually not here for any good reason. It’s not your business, you try to remind yourself, and you can’t afford to be getting caught up in anything bad that might be happening.

Although, that doesn’t seem right, either. This boy is just sitting alone on the ground, watching – presumably – his two dogs and still hasn’t even looked up at you. He doesn’t seem the type to be here for any salacious reason, which makes the only other conclusion that comes to your mind much more heartbreaking – he’s here because he has nowhere else to go. You could be wrong, but the way he was dressed (yes, he had a jacket, but not thick enough for this cold) and had only his dogs and a single backpack sat at his side just hit your instincts in a certain way. You couldn’t see his face, but he looked slim – probably not starving, but clearly not eating as much as you preferred for a young person to be eating. (Distantly, you think about how Mr. Terrence would make fun of you for thinking this despite the fact that you are also a “young person”.) His dogs also looked skinny, and even if you didn’t care about this boy, you couldn’t in good conscience let animals go without food.

With that thought, you made up your mind and quickly threw away the trash and made your way back into the restaurant to head straight toward the kitchen.

“Mr. Terrence,” your boss jumped as you burst back into the room again, “sorry. I was wondering if you finished packing everything up?”

“Nearly there,” the older man watched as you scuttled about the kitchen to grab a to go box from under the counter and start filling it with food. “Oh, no,” he scoffs lightly, “not another stray. If you keep feedin’ ‘em, they’ll keep comin’ back expectin’ more.”

“A stray and his strays, yeah.” You continue, ignoring his scoff because you know he could stop you if he was really that bothered by it.

“What?”

“Some guy and his dogs.”

“Ohhh~” you don’t need to look up to face him, because you can hear the smug smile in his voice, “a boy, huh~? No wonder you’re so eager.”

You resist the urge to fling some of the food at him, “shut up. You know it isn’t like that.”

He’s already stopped listening to you, having made up his mind about your intentions, “uh-huh, sure.”

You don’t bother to reply, finished with packing up the to go box now and not trying to play his games. You make your way back toward the doors, hoping the boy and his dogs hadn’t left already. He’s still there, thankfully, when you get outside – again regretting that you forgot to grab your jacket, but somehow remembered to grab the dog treats you keep in your bag for any stray you might come across – and still not looking up. You make your way over to the boy with your shoulders hiked up in a weak attempt to shield yourself against the wind, trying to walk around into his sight so that you don’t sneak up on him.

One of his dogs notices you first, a little thing with pink ears, and seems to watch your approach cautiously. The boy notices and whips his head around immediately, as if he was trying to catch you, and you pause for a moment at the way he looks at you like you might be a threat. He looks to be around your age, with a pretty face and puppy eyes, but he scowls at you in a way that makes him seem older – weathered and weary from past experience. Oof, you think as you try to figure out how best to approach him, a standoffish one, then.

“Hey,” you greet lightly, “sorry to bother you. I work at this restaurant and I was wondering if you wanted to take these leftovers off my hands so we don’t have to waste them by throwing them away.”

You don’t actually have to throw away the leftovers, of course, but you’re banking on him not knowing that because he seems like the type to not take handouts unless it’s phrased as if he’d be doing you a favor instead. Before the boy can answer, though, the dog with pink ears walks up to you first. You kneel down to its level, putting your hand out to let it sniff you before you try to pet it.

“Hi, puppy~!” You can’t help the high-pitched baby voice you use to talk to animals, it’s instinct at this point and you refuse to feel embarrassed about it.

The other white dog that’s wearing a sweater is still hanging back, looking like it’s shivering, but you can’t tell if that’s from the cold or if that’s just natural. You set the to go box down beside you, petting the pink-eared dog with one hand while you wrestle the dog treats out of your pocket with the other. The pup is fully excited now, tail wagging so hard that it’s almost throwing the dog off its feet, while you feed the treats to it, eagerly.

You realize that you pretty much forgot about the boy when his voice makes you jump, “her name is Miro.”

You look over, and he doesn’t seem to be scowling at you anymore, just watching you interact with his dog – still cautious, but not threatened.

“She’s cute,” you smile, “and your other dog?”

“He’s Eden.”

“Can I give him some treats?”

“He doesn’t like strangers much.”

“Well,” you shift slightly, waiting for permission to approach, “I’ll give them to you and you can give them to him, then.”

“Why?” He’s suspicious again - not in the same way that others here are when they see your face and know you’re an outsider - and you recognize it and it breaks your heart for him. (It seems a bit ridiculous for you to hurt for him, given that you don’t know him at all, but you do because you’ve seen it before and you know it at your core.)

“Because they deserve it. They all do.” You mean his dogs, specifically, but you also mean him and every other person like him.

He watches you for a moment more, and you let him, but he doesn’t respond verbally – just shrugs and makes the smallest movement of his head to nod. You grab the to go box again, dog treats in the other hand, and rise to move toward him. He rises too, probably more comfortable with being at eye level than sitting – just in case. Miro is following at your feet, and you stop with a bit of distance between yourself and the boy. You hand him the dog treats first, glancing at Eden shaking a bit behind him, and he stuffs them into the pocket of his jacket. You try to hand him the to go box and that’s when he becomes suspicious again – obvious when you look him in the eye.

“I know it might be an inconvenience, but it’d really help if you could take these. It just seems like such a waste if we have to toss them.” He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t just by how he looks at you, but neither of you are going to say it aloud.

He stares at you for a moment again, seeming to battle in his mind over whether to take it or not, but the hunger that you’re sure he’s feeling seems to win out. He takes it from you and, despite how reluctant he was to accept it in the first place, he immediately holds it close to him and slightly away from you as if you’re going to snatch it back.

You want to say more, but you’re not sure what and you don’t really have any more reason to since you accomplished what you came out here for. You think to ask his name and give him yours, but you feel like you might be pushing him with that. So, with nothing else that you can come up with, you start to back away.

“Thanks,” you smile at him again and look down at Miro and Eden, “bye puppies~!”

You think anything else would bother him, so with one last glance at the boy – who seems to be waiting for you to leave before he goes on with whatever his plans are – you fully turn back to the restaurant and go inside. You wish you had gotten his name, or had some way of checking up on him and Eden and Miro again just to make sure they’d be okay, but you just have to accept that it’s left up to fate now.

Who knows, you might meet him again one day.

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Iceberg Siren pt 5

**Here we go! Part 5! Only one more part before the part I'm proudest of, lol. Enjoy!**

Danny was surprised when a black Audi pulled up behind the club as he stepped out the back exit, a young man waving at him from the driver’s side window. Curious, but keeping his guard up, Danny strolled nonchalantly over.

“Hi! I’m Tim, Jason’s brother.”

Recognizing the name and face from the tabloids, Danny tilted his head curiously.

“The family wants to meet you!”

Ah. Hm. Danny wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. If Jason had been in the car, he might have said yes, but he couldn’t sense the quarter-ghost anywhere nearby.

“And?”

“And I came to invite you to dinner.”

Danny shrugged and turned.

“No thanks. I don’t eat with rich people- they’re generally fruitloops anyways.”

The Audi drove along slowly with him as he walked, and Danny felt himself getting more and more frustrated. Two blocks away from the Lounge, Danny rounded on his stalker, who was watching him with a disarming smile.

“What the hell do you want?”

Tim shrugged.

“I want to make sure you’re good enough for my big brother.”

Danny laughed humorlessly.

“I’m sure he appreciates your concern,’ his voice was dripping with as much sarcasm as he could put into it. ‘I, however, do not.”

With that, Danny took off, running down the street and around the corner. He could hear the engine rev behind him, but he knew these streets well enough. One left turn, straight for two doors, another sharp left, and a right, and he was back at the Lounge.

He slipped back in, coming face to face with Matt.

“Siren?”

“Mattie! Good to see you again. I’m being stalked by a millionaire- I think I’ll sleep on the dressing room couch tonight.”

The bodyguard shook his head, and then took Danny’s elbow.

“I was coming to see if I could catch you before you got too far. Boss wants a word.”

Danny saluted, and made to head upstairs to the office.

“In costume, Siren.”

Well shucks. Maybe he could get away without the extra glitter this time?

~~~

Oswald Cobblepot sat in his palatial office, staring dead-eyed at the man on the other side of his desk. What Bruce Wayne wanted with his lead act, Penguin had no idea, but he wasn’t going to leave them alone together under any circumstances. Danny Nightingale was prime adoption bait.

After a short wait, Danny swanned in, the picture of unruffled elegance in a dark green dress that fell off his shoulders and hugged his curves.

“You called, boss?”

Oswald beckoned to the young man, and Danny glided over to him, turning to face their… Guest.

“Mr. Wayne has a question for you, Siren.”

“I’m happy to answer. How may I help you, Mister Wayne?”

Bruce Wayne, notorious playboy and adopter of too many children, leaned back in his chair, lounging as only a man with too much money could lounge.

Oswald knew that the chair wasn’t tolerable enough for such a relaxed posture, and wondered if Wayne even had enough brain cells to be aware of the discomfort.

“Why yes! You see, you’ve caught the eye of my son, and I was wondering if I might interest you in a night out with him?”

Noticing Danny’s hand curl into a fist behind the desk, Oswald opened his mouth to refuse.

Danny beat him to it.

“Spineless men who ask their fathers for help getting a date don’t interest me, Mister Wayne, but I’m sure Jason has more guts than that. Unless you were referring to a different son?”

Oswald Cobblepot looked up at his singer, noticing the glint of anger behind a thin veneer of innocence. Interesting. He ought to encourage the boy’s interest in Jason Todd-Wayne- at least that would keep his attention off Red Hood.

It was very hard not to laugh at the dumbstruck look on Wayne’s face.

~~~

Jason returned to the cave late, grumbling a little as he made his way to the batcomputer to leave his report. Much to his surprise, he found Bruce at the computer, watching a video.

A video of Danny in full Siren get-up.

“What have you done this time, old man?” Jason tried to snap his words, but he felt like they just came out tired.

Bruce turned to him, not a hint of guilt on his stupid face.

“I approve of him.”

“Huh?”

The older man gestured at the still image of Danny on screen.

“He seems like he’d be good for you.”

Jason blinked. Then blinked again. Then he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t ask for your approval.”

But it was nice to have it nonetheless.

Shrugging, Bruce closed the video and stood from the chair, patting Jason on the shoulder as he passed.

“Invite him to dinner sometime. Tim tried, but Nightingale somehow figured out that you weren’t involved.”

Bruce didn’t say another word as he swept up the stairs to the manor. Jason was a little jealous that the man could sweep even without a cape.

Without thinking about it, Jason pulled out his phone and sent a text.

RedRidingHood: Do you want to grab dinner with me sometime?

Boo2U2: As a date? Sure. Pick me up tomorrow at 10?

~~~

Yinsen watched as his upstairs neighbor practically floated into the lobby, waving goodbye to a young man on a motorcycle as he came through the doors.

His neighbor paused for a moment, watching until the motorist drove away, and then turned around, a flush to his cheeks.

Danny hadn’t seemed to notice him, so Ibrahim took a moment to lament the passing of his own youth before speaking up.

“Ah, young love, eh?”

He winked at the other man when his head shot up to see who was addressing him, and Danny’s face flushed even more red than it had been.

“It’s not like that! I just- he- oh, ancients.”

Laughing, Ibrahim finished pulling his mail out of his post box. He had been much the same after his first meeting with his late wife.

“How’s Misha?”

Danny seemed to have calmed down a little, face still flushed but not looking like a tomato.

“She misses her friend. Join us for a cup of tea and tell me about your young man.”

Yinsen’s neighbor nodded shyly, and the two of them made their way up to the second floor.

~~~

Dani knew that she should be looking for Danny. She knew it, and yet- she was having a lot of fun. It had been a few months since she started playing human superhero, and she’d gotten pretty close to her new teammates.

Danny might just send her back to the Realms, afraid that she would melt again. Frostbite had given her a clean bill of health, but her brother was a worry-wart.

She didn’t blame him much- after Jazz had thrown both of them into the Realms and shut down the Fenton portal, they had both been unmoored for a long time, even after the year it had taken for Danny to recover fully from what his pare- what the Fentons did to him.

She sometimes woke up in a cold sweat, remembering the green blood that dripped down her hands as she desperately dragged her original to the Far Frozen. Dani knew, and Danny became resigned to, the fact that they would never be able to return to Amity Park- or their own dimension.

“Phantom.”

Dani looked up at Robin, who was standing at the door to her room, tapping his foot impatiently. He was her favorite so far- his olive skin and slight accent reminded her so much of some of her best-remembered travels.

“We’re needed in the field.”

She hopped up from the rolling chair at her desk, saluting dramatically.

“Aye aye, captain! All hands on deck, Phantom on the way!”

“Tch.”

[quinnyundertow]

Can I ask what got you into writing? I love your writing style and I'm so curious about your process as well.

This is such a sweet ask. I love it. This may be way more than what you were expecting haha. But I’m alone in the hospital and this feels cathartic.

I’ve always loved to write since I can remember. When I was in elementary school I remember getting yelled at and crying because I had to write a story about a thanksgiving turkeys adventure and mine was like twenty pages. They said it was too long and hurry up and I was frustrated because I wasn’t done!

I think what really solidified my love for writing is I needed fantasy to escape. In middle and early high school my parents divorced and I was bullied relentlessly. Gum put in my hair, things thrown at me, called fat at every opportunity. I had teachers that bullied me too for being fat. I was SA’d multiple times, depressed and started cutting. I’ve honestly tried to block most of it out.

The point is I had found anime and a few friends who loved it too. So any opportunity I had I begged friends to do writing journals with me. We’d make up a crack fic plots then write self insert and pass a notebook back and forth between classes every chapter for the next person to write. We wrote for Yugioh, Naruto, Dragonball Z, Fruits Basket popular ones at the time. I also wrote poetry, fanfics and original stories to try and escape anyway I could. Writing was the highlight of my teenage years. But other than that it was hell and you could never pay me enough money to repeat them.

I dropped out of Highschool from the bullying and my depression. But I studied and took a test for Highschool equivalency and then went to college and got straight As. College is nothing like Highschool. No one cares what you do. At least in my experience. I wanted to be a writer or manga artist but my father told me I wasn’t good enough and I wish I wouldn’t have taken it to heart and listened. I stopped writing for like ten years except for periodic ideas in notebooks until this last November.

Jujutsu Kaisen had become my comfort anime and then chapter 236 happened. I was so depressed I decided to try and read fanfics again. I’ve always read a lot of published books and was staggered to see a ton of fanfic writers were just as good if not better than published writers. After reading a ton of amazing works I decided I needed a fix it story that was ultimately happy for JJK and here we are.

Sorry if this was boring or too much. But if you take away something from this take this. Life is always changing. Tomorrow will not be the same as today. That much is guaranteed. If you have nothing left to live for then you have nothing to lose by trying something crazy or new. I was broken down to nothing by bullies, family issues, mental and physical health and I was incredibly suicidal. Somehow I found the will to try again. I got on depression and anxiety medication (still on to this day), worked for a higher education and took a shitty paying job to claw my way back up. My life is far from perfect but despite everything I worked hard to now have a boss babe high paying career and after restarting writing and meeting you all I’ve never been happier.

As far as a writing process I pretend I’m not going to post what I write and write it just for me. I ask myself what do I think would be the coolest thing to happen? What would I want to see next? Then I write it. Most of the time it sucks, or I don’t feel like writing it but I force it out. I make myself sit for 15 minutes and just write something. Then I rewrite it. Keep what parts I liked toss what feels off. Repeat. Eventually I’m having fun and loving the process.

When rewriting I’ll name them things like WICYG Chapter 12.2 for the second rewrite etc. I’ll screen shot my google doc so you can see the insanity haha. Sometimes I’ll rewrite four plus times. At the end of the day I want to love what I write and do it for me. Then when I find people that like it too it makes me over the moon happy. I hope one day to have the confidence to write my original stories in my head out. Writing fics for yall has definitely helped build my confidence as a writer.Thanks again for the ask anon sorry for the life story but I’ve never told people all that and it was healing to get out.

My messy google docs 🥹 Madhouse is Sanity Last Stop lol.

[bambiraptorx]

Not Quite Hidden AU: Part 7. Word Count: 486. Readers chose: Go somewhere further.

Leo carefully sneaks out the front door, making sure to close it quietly behind him.  Sure, he can move really really fast and get away that way, but then Mikey might wake up, and then he’d tattle on Leo.  Mikey can always tell somehow when Leo uses his super speed trick and it’s super unfair.  He tiptoes down the hallway, around the weirdly stained bits of the carpet, and to the stairwell.  It’s not worth it to try to take the ellen-vator anymore, cause the last time he did that he and Donnie got stuck in it halfway between two of the floors with that neighbor lady for a really long time and he doesn’t like it anymore.  And it’s probably out of order again, anyway.

But at halfway down the stairs, he’s pretty sure Mikey won’t be able to tell anymore.  He’s gotta be far enough away, right?  He can just use his trick to get the rest of the way out!

In a blink, he’s outside.  Now, which was the grocery store again?  Normally they go to the one a couple streets away, but Dad had said they needed more food that Raph could eat that wouldn’t make him go all purple, so it wasn’t the normal way.  So Leo’s just gonna explore and see what he finds!  It’ll be so fun!

He sets off down the road.  He’s gonna find all the answers he can, and then he can tell Dad and maybe he won’t be so worried anymore!

“Hey, kiddo!  Whatcha doing out here alone?”

Leo hisses as he whirls around to face the voice.  “Leave me alone, you—”

Huh, that’s one of the little stoney guys that was with the goat guy earlier.  He’d thought for sure it would be one of those weirdos that Dad always gets fluffed up around and tells them not to talk to.  Although, doesn’t the goat guy also kinda fit into that category… ?

The stoney guy flutters his wings, twisting himself around in a circle and ending up farther away from Leo than he started.  “Woah, woah, hold on there, kid!  I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.”

Leo crinkles his nose.  “Dad says we’re not supposed to trust strangers.”

“And he’s totally right of course, but, uh, I promise I won’t hurt you?”  There’s something uncertain in the way the stone guy smiles, like maybe he doesn’t think Leo will believe him.  “But my boss—Baron Draxum, you ran into him at the store earlier—he wants to know more about you, and he… wanted to see if he could meet you?  And look, I know it’s a super weird request, so you can totally say no if you want.  He’s just… uh… curious.  About you and your brothers.”

Huh.  Leo would get answers super quickly if he was able to talk to the goat guy.  But… should he really go with someone he doesn’t know?

First | Previous | Next

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 15

It had been two weeks since Loki and Claire had their first date and things were going really well between them. Both of them were infatuated with one another. Of course, when at the school working, they behaved professionally on front of the students and the other teachers, but the teachers weren’t stupid, they knew that their relationship was something more now.

Loki struggled to contain himself around her, but he kept telling himself that he wouldn’t hurt her, she was his soulmate and it was his duty to protect her.

He knew that she was ready to go further, he could smell her arousal quite often when they got heavy into kissing and touching… He just couldn’t bring himself to go further yet, he knew even if he could restrain from biting her that his other urges would go completely feral.

Though she seemed to understand whenever he eased off, explaining he just didn’t want to rush into it.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Loki received a text from Claire.

C: There’s an 80’s club night on tonight at the Rave club. Wondered if you fancied going? If you don’t have anything else on, that is. x

L: That sounds great. You’re not expecting me to dress up like the 80’s though, are you? X

C: Hah! Not at all… unless you have clothes from the 80’s and want to, but I certainly won’t be. Will I meet you there at opening? Or do you fancy grabbing a bite to eat before?

L: A bite to eat first sounds good. I’ll come pick you up in a taxi, there’s been two murders in the city in the last week, I don’t want you out at night alone. Be ready for six. X

C: My prince charming. See you then. x

Loki was glad when she didn’t argue about meeting him somewhere. Two more vampires had been killed lately, thankfully not students, but it was still bad enough. He knew that hunters must be on the rise again, it was always worrying, but they’d been through this before. Hopefully it would calm down as they went through the year, and people would begin to forget about the yearly hunt.

At least Loki hoped so, anyway.

-

Claire was super excited for her night out with Loki. She picked out a black dress that had long sleeves and a nice dip at her neck, but not too revealing. The dress went down to her calves, as it was still cold out, she didn’t want to wear one that was too short, though she knew it would end up being quite hot in the club.

She waited downstairs just inside the building, when she saw a taxi turn up, she waited for Loki to emerge before heading out. Her heart started racing straight away as she approached him, he was wearing leather trousers with a nice green shirt and a black suit jacket… Though it was the leather gloves he wore that got her attention mostly.

‘Darling, as always, you look stunning.’ He purred and cupped her cheek with his hand as he dipped down to kiss her on the lips.

Loki couldn’t stop a smirk spreading across his face when she blushed hard, he noticed her glancing at his hands a few times though she tried not to make it so obvious.

‘My lady?’ He took her hand and opened the taxi door for her.

‘Thank you.’ Claire said giddily as she climbed in.

Loki closed the door carefully after her and made his way round the car to get in the other side. She slid across to the middle seat so she could snuggle in against him, he wrapped his arm around her straight away.

‘Where are we going for food?’ Claire asked.

‘There’s a nice Italian restaurant just opened up down the road from the club, I thought would be good to try, has good reviews so far.’

‘Ohh yeah, I heard about that. I've been wanting to try it, good idea.’ Claire smiled at him.

‘I always have good ideas.’ Loki said cockily.

‘Oh I don’t know about that. Your ideas can be a bit questionable, I'm the one with the good ideas in class.’ Claire teased.

Loki mocked a gasp. ‘How dare you!’

‘I’m the brains of the outfit, I thought you knew that by now?’ She smirked.

‘I think you’re forgetting I am the boss, the one in charge of our class.’ Loki growled and dug his fingers into her side, making her squeak out a laugh and she jumped.

‘Yeah, that’s what I want you to think.’ Claire laughed.

Loki dug his fingers into her side again, making her laugh some more and she tried grabbing his hand to stop.

‘What’s the matter, ticklish?’ Loki cooed and continued his attack on her side, with his free hand he reached round to tickle her neck.

‘Aaaaah, Loki!’ Claire burst out laughing and squirmed around next to him, trying to get away but at the same time she could only squirm closer.

‘I have found your weakness, you’re in trouble now.’ Loki let out a wicked laugh as he eased off, though she was still wary about his hand at her side as she glared at him.

‘I’ll find out yours, I’m sure.’ Claire grumbled.

‘Never.’ Loki chuckled.

‘I like a challenge.’ Claire grinned.

They arrived at the Italian restaurant and thankfully the reviews weren’t wrong. It was a great little place, run by an Italian family so the food was exquisite.

‘I think I’ve found my new favourite place.’ Claire said as Loki helped her with her jacket upon leaving.

‘Mine too. Now I’m more than ready to dance all the calories off.’ Loki laughed as he patted his stomach.

Hand in hand, they made their way along the road to the club. It had been open for an hour now, so when they got in there was already plenty of people there enjoying the 80’s music. Claire was already moving her hips from the moment they stepped inside, she just loved that era of music.

‘Come on, let’s dance!’ She tried dragging Loki straight to the dancefloor, but he had other ideas and dragged her to the bar first.

‘We need to at least get a drink in hand.’ He laughed at her enthusiasm.

He ordered them both a cocktail and a shot of tequila to start them off. Claire pulled a face as she downed her shot.

‘Not like tequila?’ Loki asked in amusement.

‘Nope, tastes awful.’ Claire said as she pulled a face again.

‘Why did you take it then? You should’ve said.’ Loki said as he downed his own one.

‘Waste not want not.’ Claire shrugged, then she dragged him onto the dancefloor properly this time.

They both had fun dancing amongst the sea of bodies, they stuck close to one another, practically grinding against each other at one point. With the flow of drinks as well, Claire was well on her way to being drunk.

It took a lot more for Loki to become drunk, his vampire metabolism made him able to handle his drink better.

Though he was struggling to handle his arousal with the way Claire began grinding her ass against his crotch during one particular song. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling as he gripped her hips tightly.

‘Darling, you’re pushing your luck.’ He growled into her ear as he turned her around to face him.

‘Maybe that’s my aim.’ She fluttered her eyelashes at him innocently.

‘Oh, don’t try to look innocent, you’re far from it.’ He rumbled as he gripped her chin and couldn’t refrain from kissing her deeply, their tongues moved together as they wrapped each other up in their arms and pulled as tight as possible.

Claire could feel a very distinct bulge pressing against her stomach, knowing she’d gotten him this riled up made her almost cream her knickers. And of course, Loki could smell her.

‘Maybe, uhm… if we go out back, I could perhaps help you out with your little situation?’ Claire spoke right into his ear.

Loki was so close to tossing her over his shoulder and taking her out back to take her up on that delightful offer… Though he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, knowing that one thing would definitely lead to another.

He cupped her face in both hands and pecked her on the lips again. ‘Let’s go outside… but to talk.’ He said firmly, it was too loud inside to speak properly so he took her hand and they weaved through the crowd together.

There was a hold up by the door, as it was right next to the bar so they had to wait a second for people to move so they could continue out. Someone bumped right in against Claire’s behind, she whipped her head around to look, but her eyes widened as she saw it was Chris.

He smirked and winked at her, but she was tugged forward by Loki as he found a gap to get through. She turned to look where she was going but quickly looked back, though Chris was gone.

‘Darling, are you ok?’ Loki asked when they reached the door, he noticed she was looking around.

‘I just thought I saw… never mind.’ She shook her head.

Maybe it was someone that just looked like Chris. Though even if it had actually been him, there was no point telling Loki he was here, it would only annoy him anyway.

Loki took her round the side of the club, where it was quiet and no one else was around.

‘Claire, I am going to be completely honest with you. I adore you, so damn much. I want nothing more than to have you on your knees right now and have your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock.’ His voice deepened as he brushed his thumb along her lower lip, both of them swallowed hard at the thought.

Loki cleared his throat to continue. ‘I am worried that I will hurt you, I have quite strong… urges. I’m scared that I can’t control myself with you and I'll go too far, that I’ll scare or hurt you.’

Claire frowned and put her hands around his neck. ‘What do you mean? I know you’d never hurt me, and you could never scare me, what are you talking about?’

He smiled and felt so warmed at her words. If only she knew the truth though… she would probably run a mile.

‘You’re such a delicate flower, I will not allow myself to get too carried away and hurt you. I just need to go slowly, so I can maintain myself better with you.’

‘I won’t break, I can handle a little rough, if that’s what you mean? Though I understand if you want to go slow, I won’t rush you at all. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit pushy.’ She said sheepishly.

Loki grinned and stroked her hair. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for, believe me when I say I want the same as you do… I dream every night of having you writhing around in pleasure beneath me, being able to hear your moans as I make you cum…’

Loki realised he was saying the wrong words entirely if he was trying to keep their urges calm.

‘Not helping, Loki.’ Claire groaned and pressed her head against his chest.

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. ‘Sorry, darling.’

‘I blame you for my frustration.’ She said, muffled against him.

‘Delayed gratification, will make it all the better when we do get down and dirty.’ He purred and slid his hands down her arms.

‘If you say so.’ Claire looked up at him and giggled.

-

Chris had indeed been at the club, he didn’t stay for long though, he had just been looking for any unsuspecting drunken humans he could feed from.

And he found one.

A young woman foolishly left her friends at the club and decided to walk home, all alone. When she was making her way through the park, along the dark tree-line, that’s when Chris pounced.

He approached her from the front with a kind smile on his face. ‘Why hello there, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here, all alone, hmm?’

The woman was clearly uneasy as she eyed him up and down. While she was drunk, she wasn’t completely out of it, and alarm bells of stranger danger ran through her mind.

‘I’m fine. Away to meet my boyfriend.’ She said and quickened her pace away from him, cutting across the grass.

Chris sensed her heartbeat quicken in fear, he could smell it in the air too, making him lick his lips as he stalked after her, hot on her heels.

‘Now, now. No need to run off so’ He was cut off as a bolt came flying down and pierced into the grass right between him and the woman.

His head snapped round to find the source, he spotted a cloaked figure on the bridge lowering a crossbow. As he turned back to look at his prey, she had taken that opportunity of distraction to run as fast as she possibly could across the park, away from him.

Chris hissed as he grabbed the bolt out of the ground, he stormed over to the bridge to confront the cloaked figure. He assumed it was some puny wannabe hunter, that was clearly rubbish at their job for missing him.

‘You missed.’ Chris snarled as he stepped onto the bridge.

A low chuckle came from under the cloak. ‘Did I? My task was to save the human, I’d say that’s exactly what I did.’

Chris’ eyes widened, it was a female hunter.

‘I believe this is yours.’ He growled and snapped the bolt in two before tossing it to the feet of the hunter.

She turned towards him and flipped her hood down, revealing her face. Chris took a moment as he stared at her and his nostrils flared, gathering her scent, then his eyes widened and he laughed.

‘My my, if it isn’t the famous vampire hunter, Toshi Vernier.’ He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I should’ve recognised that stench of yours a mile away.’ He spat. ‘Where have you been hiding for all of these years, I thought you died a brutal death?’

‘I’ve come back from the dead.’ Toshi smirked. ‘I know what you’re up to, Chris. Trying to erase the humans, to let vampires take over, but it won’t work.’

‘And what makes you so sure of that?’ Chris asked as he began to take slow, menacing steps towards her. Though her heartbeat remained steady, it never changed. She wasn’t scared of him. Or if she was, she was able to control her fear, unlike others.

‘Because I won’t let you, neither will your brother and his friends. You underestimate their strength.’

‘You know nothing.’ Chris snapped as he started circling her, but her heartbeat still remained the same.

‘I know that you’re really trying his patience over his soulmate. You have no idea what strength can be gained from a vampire being with their soulmate, they would do anything to protect them... I’m not going to do nothing while you get innocent people killed, that includes vampires. Your actions are attracting more hunters, which means more deaths of your kind. I know Loki won’t just sit back and watch either.’ Toshi said calmly as she waited for him to walk back round into her line of view.

‘What do you know of a vampire’s soulmate?’ He hissed, getting agitated. ‘How do you know so much about my brother? What do you care about vampires? You’re a hunter.’

‘You’re not the only one that can creep about unnoticed. The legends may say that you’re all mighty and powerful, but you’re nothing more than an unruly vampire that’s lost his way, letting his feral urges take over. Alienating everyone, family and friends… if you had any friends in the first place, that is. Since you keep getting fellow vampires killed.’

Chris lunged for her, but Toshi managed to dodge him, just. She leapt over the side of the bridge and landed on her feet at the riverside below. She flipped her hood back up just as Chris jumped down after her, his eyes a deep dark red.

‘And for the record. I am a hunter. But not a vampire hunter anymore… well, not the good ones, anyway.’ Toshi shrugged.

Chris made a move for her again, but Toshi threw down two garlic bombs that exploded instantly. Chris began coughing as he was shrouded in strong garlic powder. He yelled in anger as the park started to spin, he couldn’t focus properly.

It took him a minute to shake off the effects, though he could still feel it in the back of his throat, making him cough harshly. He looked around the park, but there was no sign of Toshi anymore. Like she had just vanished into thin air.

He cried out angrily and turned into his bat form to fly away, hungry and incredibly annoyed.

[archivxx]

I love my 🩻 anon so much for this.

Should of faxed it. {Kyle Broflovski x Reader}

✯ Genre: smut (reader is fem)(Kyle is aged up.)

✯ Relationship: unestablished, enemies.

✯ Style: One shot

✯ Context: you’ve been working in this law firm under Kyle as his assistant for longer than you can remember and it’s the most frustrating and draining job you’ve ever had.

Your legs were moving under you faster than you were aware of. At this point you may have even been running with the speed which things were going past you. You didn’t really care, if you were running then, despite the fool you were absolutely making of yourself, that’s fine. Good even. It’s probably what you needed really. You were running late. Extremely late. You needed to make it into the office as soon as possible, you could practically see your bosses face when you closed your eyes. He would not be impressed, that deep crease that occupied the space between his eyebrows sunk even deeper than usual.

There was no doubt that your boss was handsome, you even had some lingering feelings for him from when you started, however after three years of essentially being his “bitch” you had grown almost completely unattracted to him, almost, and you absolutely and wholly hated him, and he most definitely hated you too. Honestly, you were willing to argue about it for days on end, no person who respected you as a colleague would ever treat said colleague as though they’re a slave.

You burst through the glass doors of his office with his coffee mumbling an apology for the dramatic entrance and lowering your head in attempts to be less noticeable. You walked, or more so strode over to his desk in attempt to make the time you were in the room shorter, the faster you were out of there the faster you could forget about the mess that was this morning.

You placed the coffee down on the desk and turned to leave. You’d actually gotten out of the whole thing completely unscathed. You began to head for the door.

“Wait.” Shit fucker.

You slowly turned on your heel, “Can I help you, Kyle?”

“What time do you call this.” He got up from his seat and advanced towards you.

You stared at him for a long moment. What the fuck does he mean? You stared at him for a moment more, finding the right words, trying your best to not spit venom at him. “What the do you mean, “what time do you call this?” Do you realise,”—You wanted to stop, you really did but it was far too late now, he needed to hear this anyway—“the only reason I’m late is because I stood in line for almost an hour,” You began to raise your voice. “Because your picky ass can’t just have regular coffee like everyone else, noooo, you can’t because you’re Kyle Broflovski, you’re too good to drink regular coffee like other people, you have to have it done perfectly by a fucking barista that doesn’t get payed anywhere near enough to deal with shitty ass customers like you.” You took a deep breath in attempt to calm down, “So, if you must know, I’m late because of you.”

He stared at you. No, he more so bore into you. His eyes had gone dark, almost sinister. His mouth bobbed a few times. You almost cried, you couldn’t quite believe your eyes. For the first time ever, you’d rendered Kyle Broflovski completely speechless.

He was still glaring at you. You began to back up slightly, you felt like prey. With the way he was looking at you, you thought you might have actually turned into a piece of meat and Kyle was your predator.

You took in a sharp, painful breath about to apologise when Kyle took one long step towards you, almost a leap. Before you could move away from him and run for your life he had grabbed your hips and was kissing you.

You pushed him off with all your strength, with was enough you make him stumble. It was now your turn to glare, you waited for an answer.

“I’m sorry for my improperness, however, that speech right now…truly…something.” The tone of his voice was almost evil, you truly enjoyed it. Deep down you knew you wanted this. On a surface level, you knew you wanted this and it killed you to admit that you’d been thinking about thing since day one.

Not matter how much you hated Kyle that did not change the inevitable fact that he was absolutely sexy, a sexy that you had to train yourself to resist. A sexy that almost sent your silly when he would talk to you. He was sexy in a smouldering way, arguably the perfect kind of sexy.

The fact you knew you both wanted this for some odd and unexplainable reason made him all the more desirable.

It was your turn to “leap” at him. This time you actually did leap though, you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him. He didn’t hesitate to kiss back, making his way over to his desk.

When you got to his desk, he placed you down, not exactly gently. He trapped you between his hands on the desk continuing to kiss you, not once breaking for air.

When he finally did break for air, he stared at you, you could tell by the look on his face he wanted to ask for your consent without but completely unsure of the words to use. “I give you my consent, boss.” The nickname must have really helped him as his started to make quick work of removing your clothes, slipping your pencil skirt off and letting it pool on the floor and unbuttoning your shirt at a speed you’d never seen before from anyone unbuttoning a shirt, not even ripping a button off.

He began kissing your chest, not making any move to unclasp your bra. No, instead he made work of your pants, starting off by hooking his fingers in the hem of them. He peeled them off your at a painful slow speed compared to when he had been taking off your skirt.

He stared at you, his cold eyes lingering over you for longer than you had anticipated. He was raking you in, soaking up the sight, to like you were absolutely gorgeous but at the same time an absolute beast, you had a sharp tongue and a complimentary eye for mistakes. You had called him out many times and no matter how much it pissed him off he had wanted to fuck the hatred he had for you right out of him.

He waisted no time taking off his own clothes either, disposing of his own suit on the floor.

He somewhat forcefully grabbed your thighs and pushed them open. He lined up and before you had a chance to prepare your he pushed into you, knocking every thought out of your head. You let your head roll back.

He didn’t give you much time before he was moving, driving his hips forward with a power that, for such a small framed man, shocked you. You let a whimper fall past your lips, spreading your legs as far as you could, he was hitting all the perfect spots.

It did take very long for you both be become disheveled. Your orgasm was so near that you could practically feel it. Your knees were tingling and your core was tightening. Right when you were about to grab onto that hot white heat of release that you longed for, Kyle pulled out.

He pulled out. What the fuck was he pulling this time? What an asshole.

Then, before you could protest, he pried you off the desk making you stand, turned you around and bent your over the desk, not a single word leaving his lips. You couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him in that moment, your cheeks were burning and your core tightened more.

Before you could get any answers from him, he stuffed himself back inside you, returning to his previous speed. The new angle left your feeling starstruck. He was abusing all of the parts that he needed to.

A whimper landed on your back, the small sound tickled you. He placed a kiss against your shoulder blade continuing to pound you with passion, passion that you knew was duped by hatred. As much as you both wanted the, the idea of knocking each other down to their most vulnerable state drove you more towards it. The was no denying your hatred for one another however there was also no denying your attraction to one another.

You could practically hold your orgasm in your hand. It was so close. Mere inches away. You could feel the heat bubbling up inside you, and you could feel it in him too. He was close, you could tell by the way his drive had gotten higher, he’d become rougher with you. Sharp and harsh snaps of his hips, your skin clapping together.

A longer moan left your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That sweet release you’d been waiting for. Kyle’s hips began to stutter. Then, long white ropes painted your inside, his hips coming to a holt. He teased his head on your back tickling you with his breath.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You couldn’t say much, in fact you couldn’t think much. When Kyle had finally regained his bearings, he pulled out, allowing his semen to ooze out of you, trying not to pay much attention too it. He redressed himself quickly while you came back to reality.

When you’d finally come back from your high, you pushed yourself off the table. You dressed yourself as quickly as your could and made your way towards the door.

“Hold on.” You turned on your heel feeling a slight sense of deja vu. “Don’t be late again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, boss.” Asshole. And with that you stormed out of his room, trying to best to not slam the door behind you. You head straight for your office.

Bye this is sooo bad💀

[sleepyhead0720]

Hi! Hope ur doing ok

first things first, I read ur rules, and does it mean u don't write for Mihawk or Law at all?

secondly, I'd like to request something angst for Sir crocodile x fem! reader, like his lover dies from a disease or they get separated by the Marines something like that, I'm a sucker for the heavy angst stuff yk🗿

my first time asking so I hope i did right, aaand feel free to ignore if ur not ok w it! Thanks!

Heya! I actually did this already and tried posting it but something went wrong and now I had to rewrite the whole thing:’)

And to answer your question I unfortunately don’t write for either, I don’t really know both of them much and bc of that I don’t know how to write em. Maybe in the future I’ll get to know them more and write for them!

Anyways I’m pretty bad at angst so I apologize if croco here’s a bit OC but aside from that hope you enjoy!:)

(Sorry if it’s bad I suck at angst)

Sir Crocodile x Sick!dying!reader

Crocodile would do anything for you. Heck if he could give you the world he would.

So when he discovered that your life was in the line by a deadly and unknown disease, he tried his best to find a cure.

At first though, he actually didn’t really pay attention to you being sick, he did take care of you but he didn’t really pay much attention to it and figured it would go away soon and you’d be back on your feet soon. But when he got proved wrong, he immediately took action and tried his best to find a cure.

He searched far and wide for one along with Daz but nothing seemed to work. Until he got told that someone else from far away supposedly had a cure he immediately took you with him on the journey

Daz knew how much his boss meant to you and you for him, so he tried his best to help him. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t grow attached to you.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t wanna die, not yet atleast. You wanted to help crocodile in every way you could. Si you happily and obediently went with him every where he went to try to find a cure.

You weren’t feeling good at all, it fel like you could pass out any second. But you tried your best to hold on, for him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to last long. Hallway through the journey, you fell asleep against crocodiles chest and never woke up.

When crocodile tried to shake you up, his eyes filled with worry once he felt your body losing warmth. He tried everything he knew to try to get you to wake up by some miracle. But even he knew it was too late.

For the next few days, he didn’t eat, didn’t sleep or do anything

He didn’t see the point to.

He didn’t really show it but he loved you with every bone in his body, if he could take every ounce of pain you had ever felt while being sick, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. Which is why he’s standing infront of your lifeless body with nothing but a broken heart.

You promised to be there when he got revenge on the straw hats. You promised you’d always be there. But yet you weren’t there, only him.

You tried to hang on, you really did, but it was useless.

Daz knew how hurt his boss was after your death. He himself shed a few tears but he knew they had to get back on their feet soon or else they’d end up like you, He knew you wouldn’t want that and the last thing he didn’t want to do was disappoint you. So he tried his best to get crocodile back up on his feet

Not only for themselves, but for you

|———————————————————————|

Hope you liked it!

If you’d like for me to make a marine version instead of a diseases lmk!

[itzsarahhh]

Let’s get it… My live reactions to The Rebound 🏀 Episode 3: (this is gonna be long and I’m so sorry for that) (also spoilers)

-Love the flashback, Ryu and Zen were so cute together. they definitely got close enough to kiss. So the question is did they actually kiss or did someone pull away?

-the tension between these two is crazy. And of course he kept the key to your locker

-yes boys, Ryu is better than all of you at basketball

-love that Emi’s character (don’t remember her name) is standing up for Ryu but I definitely think he will get into a fight

-not the bullying. of course Ryu steps in to help. Love that but hope this doesn’t cause any problems

-Oop and here is the teacher. And he got a warning for preventing bullying? What about the other kid, the actual bully?

-is Jedi gonna sit with Ryu? Omg cute! I love Jedi. Galactic alliance! (Ghost ship #1 perhaps? Just kidding but I support this friendship)

-omg an autistic character? In my sports bl? It’s more likely than you might think

-and now for the basketball playing scene. Love seeing Meen do what he does best

-sir you’re worried he’s gonna start a fight and then YOU (try to) START A FIGHT WITH HIM? Ryu is a head taller than you and from the streets he would clearly beat you if you actually fought (maybe that’s what he wants so he gets kicked off the team)

-100 push-ups? I would kill that man (Jed, not the coach). Yeah Ryu was not in the wrong on this one

-oh hi Frank

-atom, zen is a lifeguard and he thought you were drowning. he was just doing his job lol

-Ryu I don’t think it’s that easy to quit. And it’s hard to tell if the brother is actually helping

-atom I’m not sure if you like him and want to be friends or more than friends. But he still seems like a sad boi. Also he’s got that rizz asking for his insta

-Lin! That’s her name! Also girl I think a book report is more important than club duties

-Oop the parallels are paralelling. Goddamnit not the brother ruining the moment

-Yes Zen!! You hug that man from behind. He is definitely still in love with Ryu

-the Boss guy gives me the creeps

-why is it so dark out already? I guess if practice ended at 7:30 it could get dark soon but it looks way later at night. How long was that drive?

-ooh the famous bl bridge.

-the wiping of the mouth! A bl trope staple. I could never. I will give you a napkin and you can do that yourself

-Oop that father flashback. I’m guessing he passed away. Poor Ryu

-ok the brother is playing for Ryu but does he know how to play basketball?

-Q is annoying me. Sir your brother is a high school student, the only place he should be is in high school. Don’t you want him to have a good life and not stuck with that creepy boss like you are?

-oh no not grandma!! At least atom was there to help. But I can’t have her getting sick or dying.

-Q!??? When I catch you Q. Wtf are you doing to Zen??

-not the episode ending there. Thank god the next episode is tomorrow

Final thoughts: the show is keeping me interested and entertained so far. MeenPing continue to serve chemistry and I like how you can tell their characters still like each other. Q is getting on my nerves already trying to drag Ryu into his mess. Also are they blood related or is it just the honorific Phi? Anyways I will be tuning in tomorrow. Thank god I have the day off, so I won’t have to wait to watch it. If you made it this far I appreciate you deeply! Stay tuned for my episode 4 thoughts

[password-door-lock]

“Merry Christmas, boss!”

Your words startle Unknown from his work. For one thing, you're practically yelling, when you know that he requires silence to think well— it's as if everything he tells you goes in one ear and out the other. Moreover, he was by no means expecting you to try and celebrate that godforsaken holiday today. Unknown was elated— or as close to elated as he's ever going to get while that redhead is still breathing— when you chose not to bother him on Christmas morning. He should have known that you'd have something else up your sleeve. You truly never fail to annoy him.

“It's not Christmas anymore, prince(ss),” he reminds you in a syrupy tone. “You must be confused.” This would be warning enough for somebody with a normal set of self preservation instincts— sadly, you appear to possess very few of these, because you don’t seem remotely deterred.

“What?” You ask, sounding genuinely confused. ”How is it not Christmas? You took me on the eighteenth of March, right? And I've been counting  off every single day— it has been 282 days; I’m sure of it! So how is it not Christmas?”

Unknown turns around to face you now. He gets the feeling that he isn't going to get very much work done if you're planning to continue being noisy, and (although he'd never admit it aloud) this conversation is shaping up to be far more interesting than some numbers on a screen. “You must have messed it up,” he offers, unable to contain his glee at the idea. Serves you right, for trying to waste his time like this.

“No, you messed it up,” you pout. Unknown wonders what he’d have to do to instill a healthy fear of himself in you. “Because you took away my phone. If I still had it, I would just know the date without even having to make tally marks on a napkin, and—”

“Give me the napkin.” Unknown is going to nip this in the bud right now. If you don’t have anything to write on, then you won’t have any way to record the date, and you won’t try and ambush him with poorly-timed holiday celebrations. If you wanted to plan parties, then you should have just gone into that apartment in the first place— now that you’re with Unknown, you’re going to have to start playing by his rules. Although, if you haven’t figured that out after so many months by his side, he’s beginning to think that you’re a bit of a lost cause.

“And now you're taking my planner?” You regard him with wide eyes. “This is too cruel. How do you expect me to be productive when I don't know what day it is?” But there's this gleam in your eyes that tells him you're just playing around.

“You never knew what day it was, sweetheart,” he points out, “I got you on the nineteenth of March, so you’ve been counting wrong this whole time.” Unknown doesn't think he'll be forgetting that date any time soon. It would have been the day when his plan was set in motion, if you had only followed his instructions.

“Okay, fine, you can have it, since it's wrong anyway,” you grumble, “That's actually good, since I don't have any wrapping paper for your present. Two birds with one stone.” You pick up something you've left sitting on the couch and wrap the napkin— which is, indeed, covered with hundreds of pencil marks— around it before handing the entire parcel to Unknown.

“What is this?” He demands.

“Your Christmas gift,” you explain, suddenly serious. “I wanted to get you one of those 'world's greatest boss' mugs, but since somebody won't let me order anything online, I had to make you something instead. Open it.”

“You don't get to order me around,” he warns, “Try again.”

You roll your eyes before establishing yourself on his lap, where you should probably remain, if you had time to procure any kind of gift for him without his knowledge. Clearly, he hasn’t been keeping you under proper supervision. “We're doing this now? Really? Can’t we have a single normal conversation, just one time?” You pout at him. Apparently, Unknown's glare is the only answer you need to any of your sundry questions, because after a bit of grumbling, you seem to acquiesce. “Fine, fine. Could you please open it, please? Thank you.”

“Better,” Unknown decides. Truth be told, he is a little bit curious— he's never let you out of his sight for longer than a few minutes. How did you manage to put together a gift for him without his knowledge? Whatever it is feels solid and sturdy.  He pulls the hastily-crumpled napkin off of the item in question and holds it up to the light of his monitors to get a better look.

“It's a bracelet,” you explain, “I know you wear them, so I thought you'd like it better than anything else that I could make.”

Unknown turns the bracelet over in his hands. It consists of a series of interlocking brown and white squares, all of which are sharp and thick. Upon closer inspection, Unknown discovers nutrition information on one of the white squares. Is it made from candy wrappers? “You gave me garbage.” 

“Upcycled garbage, yes,” you nod enthusiastically. “I've been stealing your candy wrappers and washing the insides for months, you know. I was going to make you a whole jewelry set with a necklace and everything, but I didn't have time, since you're always watching me like a hawk. This is all I could manage.” 

Unknown has no fucking clue why you would waste your time on something like this. You had every opportunity to let the Yuletide pass unmarked, but instead, you spent weeks collecting trash, cleaning it, and folding it into an ugly piece of jewelry, just so you'd have something to give him. Seeing as he's never received anything for Christmas before, he doesn't know if the gifts are usually this underwhelming— but he does know what your intentions were. “Next time you want to get me something, you can just try being quiet.”

You grin, like you don't care how much he hates your gift. Like you don't expect any thanks for all the unnecessary work that you put into the stupid thing. Like you didn't do it for him to thank you— you did it because you wanted to brighten his day, even if you weren’t necessarily very successful. “Next time, tell me that before Christmas so that I can take it into account when I'm thinking of a gift.”

Unknown rolls his eyes at you and spins his chair around so that he's facing the screen again. This has been an interesting diversion, but he doesn't have the luxury of taking long breaks from the pursuit of his revenge. “I just told you. Won’t you remember?”

“No,” you grumble playfully, “Since now I don't have anywhere to write it down.”

Unknown shoves the crumpled napkin back into your hand. ”Merry Christmas, prince(ss),” he coos, patting you on the head. It’s a generous gift, all things considered— he was seriously planning on throwing that napkin away. 

“Gee, thanks.” You might sound sarcastic, but you still pocket the napkin, just as he thought you would. Thankfully, after this, you give him the peace and quiet that he needs to make some progress with his work.

It isn't until you're snoring softly across the room hours later, unwilling to be separated from Unknown even while you sleep, that he finds himself absently reaching for the bracelet as he works, running his fingers over the sharp edges and smooth tops of the interlocking squares. He'd never be caught dead wearing it— it's made of garbage, for fuck's sake— but Unknown will reluctantly admit (if only to himself) that he likes the feel of it. As far as first-ever Christmas presents go, he supposes that it isn't too terrible, though he'd never say as much to you.