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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 2 months ago

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Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question.

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted.

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week.

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation.

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.”

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that.

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand.

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation.

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows.

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm.

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face.

“Nope,” you shrugged.

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,” Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest.

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought.

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again.

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after.

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience.

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.”

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again.

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro.

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before.

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control.

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up.

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight.

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response.

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible.

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned.

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone.

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen.

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone.

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off.

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.”

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut.

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position.

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand.

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head.

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?”

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head.

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him.

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked.

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips.

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question.

It’s him. You thought.

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target.

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him.

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself.

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him.

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him.

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you.

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you.

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail.

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms.

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down.

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag.

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home.

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares.

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head.

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions.

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation.

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be.

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally.

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?”

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him.

“Happy now?” Price asked.

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work?

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!”

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost.

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered.

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face.

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you.

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you.

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.”

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava.

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged.

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything.

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.”

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions.

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate.

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.”

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer.

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black.

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you.

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back.

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched.

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes.

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in.

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground.

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..”

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly.

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch.

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly.

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke.

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away.

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.”

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you.

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system.

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.”

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions.

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth.

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out.

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath. “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

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band--psycho · 3 months ago

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Sylus x Reader - Beautiful

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Warnings: Body Insecurities, Scars, Self-Consciousness ( do not read if any of these subjects are triggering for you)

“It’s beautiful,” you gushed, completely mesmerized by the black dress in front of you.

it was truly the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen; and you wanted nothing more than to buy it there and then.

But deep in your heart, you knew that you would never wear it no matter how beautiful it was nor how much you wished to wear it.

You didn’t have the confidence to do so.

Your body was littered with scars from various wanderer hunts that you had been on, and you had a particularly big one that travelled down most of your leg; which would easily be seen from the slit in the dress.

“Why don’t you get it?” Sylus asked, noticing how intently you were looking at the dress.

Even by his standards it was a beautiful dress and he couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought of seeing you in it.

“It’s too expensive,” you said, brushing off his question.

It's not like it was a lie, the dress was expensive, you’d certainly never paid that much for any item of clothing in your life.

But saying that to the man who could've brought the whole store, was a mistake, one that you realised when you saw him pull out his card from his leather jacket, “I’ll buy it for you,”

“It would be a waste of money,” you lied, shaking your head whilst grabbing his arm, pulling him away from the dress.

“I’d never have a reason to wear it,” you continued, leaving the store with him.

~~~~~~

When you returned home from work a few days later, you saw a square box wrapped with a decorative red ribbon on your bed.

Naturally, your hunter instincts kicked in, you were the only one who had a key to your apartment and that parcel definitely wasn’t there when you left for work this morning.

You were about to scour your flat, in case there were any threats lurking in your apartment, but then you saw a small card on top of the box.

‘Now you have a reason to wear it, be ready at 8, S,’

Tentatively, you pushed the ribbon off of the box and took the lid off, revealing the gorgeous black dress that took your breath away a few days ago.

You should’ve expected this….

You glanced at your clock, seeing that it was already 7.

You had an hour to try and work out what you were going to do.

An be hour to come up with a reason why you couldn’t wear the dress he’d so kindly brought you.

‘First things first’, you thought to yourself, ‘I need to figure out what else to wear’

You’d pretty much emptied your entire wardrobe, attempting to find an outfit that was as beautiful as that dress.

Unfortunately nothing you owned could ever capture the beauty of that dress.

A sigh left your lips as you stared at yourself in the mirror, wearing your favourite pair of black jeans, a white shirt, with a tan cropped tank top and your boots.

It wasn’t the dress.

But it was going to have to do.

Though the more you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more you hated the outfit you were wearing.

You couldn’t stop yourself from pacing back and forth, trying to think of another outfit to wear for tonight.

Thought your thoughts were cut short when you heard a knock at the door.

Sylus was here…

‘Shit’, you thought to yourself, the realisation dawning on you that you’d been so busy trying to choose an outfit, you hadn’t even had time to do anything else, hair…makeup, nothing.

You heard another knock at the door, this one halted your pacing steps.

You could just ignore him, maybe he’d go away after a while ... .but you knew in reality that he would only worry if you didn’t answer and then he’d probably use his evol to break the door down.

Avoiding him wasn’t going to work.

But the thought of answering the door and admitting the real reason why you weren’t wearing the dress to him, made you feel even more anxious and in all honesty, ashamed.

You’d never told anyone about how self conscious your scars made you…would he think you less of you for such a thought?

Would he agree with you that the scars that marked your body were unattractive…?

The thoughts kept spinning around in your head, the fear of possible reactions making your breathing quicken with anxiety..

“Are you okay in there, sweetie?” You heard him ask through the door; somehow even with the door between you both, the warmth of his voice was able to calm you.

“Yeah,” you stammered, trying to pull yourself together, before opening the door, revealing a slightly worried looking Sylus behind it.

He didn’t say anything at first, taking a few steps until he was standing directly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” He repeated, hooking his finger under your chin; noticing instantly the slight dilation in your pupils.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to not be shaky.

“Don’t lie to me, sweetie,”

He knew you’d lie to him at the store; he just didn’t know why…

“Why did you buy me that dress?” You questioned, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“You said you’d never have a reason to wear it, so I gave you one,” he stated very matter of factly, his thumb still hooked under your chin, “Or was there another reason you didn’t want to wear it?”

You could feel his eyes burning into yours as though he was trying to seek out the truth of the reason just from your eyes.

“The dress wouldn’t look good on me, okay?” You admitted; hoping that your answer would be enough to make him stop this inquisition.

But your words had an adverse effect.

He couldn’t understand how you could think such a thing; he knew you would look nothing but beautiful in such a garment, “What makes you think that?”

“I just know it wouldn’t,” you bluntly retorted, pulling away from his touch, wanting nothing more than for Sylus to just leave your apartment so you could wallow by yourself.

“Have you even tried it on?”

“I don’t need to try it on to know it would show my scars,” you snapped back harshly.

“What’s wrong with that?” he questioned; his face remaining neutral despite the abrasiveness of your words prior.

“What’s wrong with that?” You scoffed back sarcastically, running your hands over your face as you tried desperately to not have a full blown breakdown infront of him,“Sylus you’re taking me to fancy restaurant, I doubt people there, or you would like seeing them; they’re ugly and-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt his hands on either side of your face, holding you in place and forcing you to look directly at him.

His touch wasn’t harsh, but it was firm.

“I want to make something very clear to you,” he began, his thumbs rubbing your circles into your cheeks in unison.

“You are the most beautiful person that I have ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on, nothing changes that, don’t ever doubt that.”

His declaration made you want to cry.

No one had ever said something like that to you before, and certainly never with the amount of conviction in Sylus’ eyes.

He meant what he said.

And you believed that he did; but he’d never seen your scars, so how could he possibly know whether or not you were beautiful with your scars?

“You’ve never even seen them,” You whispered, feeling his hands gently squeeze your cheeks as he watched the sadness building in your eyes.

“It would never change how beautiful you are to me,” he cooed; placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “We all have our own scars sweetie, what’s the point in hiding them, it won’t make them disappear.”

For the next few moments the two of you stood in a comfortable silence; Sylus’ arms were now wrapped around your waist, and yours were wrapped around his neck.

Maybe it was because of the sincerity his voice held, or the truth in your eyes but as his words processed in your mind, you felt the rekindling of a confidence you thought had vanished long ago.

“ I should change….” You mumbled into his chest.

Sylus pulled away from your embrace slightly at your words, “Wear what you feel comfortable in, you don’t have to wear the dress,”

The last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable.

“I want to….” you quietly admitted, still slightly terrified of wearing the dress but trying hard to not let those thoughts or the fear control you.

You’d spent years of your adult life hiding in leggings, jeans or long skirts or dresses that would hide the scar; even on the hottest days you would wear enough to cover it.

But your scars were a part of you as much as anything else, you couldn’t change them, so maybe instead of hiding them away, you could try to start accepting them.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @the-slytherin-poet @albert-moriarty-fan @deathkat657 @worm-in-a-bug @elegantangelenthusiast @darkphoenix2332 @xenasolos @tasha-1994 @randomruff @mrs-masen-cullen @taronyuhunter @reverbsworld @serenitymaria @babygirl-panda19 @themagicafox @kisukiis

#sylus x reader #sylus imagine #sylus imagines #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x you #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace imagin #l&ds imagines

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maryangelex · 1 year ago

Text

Good for Me

Captain Price x f!Reader

Summary: You work in intel for Task Force 141 and work very closely with Captain Price. You’ve had a crush on the man for ages and he knows it. He’s turned you down many times knowing he’s way too old for you, except this time he give into temptation.

Warnings: nsfw, age gap, praise kink, p in v sex, fluff to smut, mutual pining, soft dom! price, creampie, smut with plot, unprotected sex, super long and not proofread, huge warning for extreme corniness.

A/N: me, personally, I’m a Simon ride or die bitch I literally only read Simon fanfics… but the abundance of price fanfics made me cave and now I finally get it, so I made this. Enjoy!!!!

You had been working as an intel officer for Task Force 141. This position granted you the pleasure of working with Captain Price very closely. The two of you made a good team and would even say you had a sort of friendship going on besides just being coworkers.

This proximity made things more intimate between the two of you, though. And you would be lying if you said you hadn’t sparked a crush pretty early on into your career with him.

Can anyone blame you, though? John was the full package; tall, handsome, occasionally made you laugh with what would be considered ‘dad jokes’, and he had a perfectly masculine and burly appearance that complimented his kind nature. All of which made you enamored, naughtily pining for him like a schoolgirl crushing on her teacher.

He knew this, of course. Not because he could tell but because you personally told him and continued to make passes at him, hoping he would change his mind and give you a chance. The first time you told him, he was taken off guard by it. A mix of surprise and disbelief, he thought you were kidding at first but you insisted you had no reason to lie. From then on, you two stayed on amicable terms and your crush became something he teased you about and that the two of you bantered together about. But you still clung to that crush, your feelings were never fleeting.

“‘Afternoon, Cap” you announced cheerily as you entered Price’s office with two mugs in hand “Brought ya tea!”

Price sat at his desk, head deep in paperwork, and returned the greeting with a sigh, barely looking up at you.

“Come on, lighten up and let’s take a break. Rome wasn’t built in a day and you sure as hell aren’t gonna finish that stack anytime soon.”

He plopped the file down to the side of his table, away from his sight as he let out a sigh and reclined in his chair, finally looking at you he said “Cheers, doll” as he took the mug in his hand. He took a sip of the contents in the cup and let out a satisfied hum along with a chuckle.

“Just how you like it,” you said taking a sip of your own.

“You just know me so well,” he smiled.

You chatted lightheartedly with him, the usual for how your conversations went with him unless there was a professional matter to discuss. Somehow the conversation came to be about how Price had never been married at his age and you playfully teased him about not settling down.

“I was almost married once,” he sighed, “but my work got in the way, she couldn’t handle the time apart and I don’t blame her for it”. He shrugged it off, a subject that was way in the past for him so no use dwelling on it.

“Well, I work with you so not much distance to worry about” you teased leaning forward to put your elbows on his desk sitting across from him on the other side of it.

“Plus I make you the perfect tea! I’m basically the perfect candidate to be your wife”

“You’ve got a point” he said with a light chuckle, followed by a sigh “I’m just too old for ya, kid”

The room fell silent as you looked down at your fingers rimming the now empty cup. You felt his gaze on him, as if he knew what you were thinking and was waiting for your response.

“Just give me a chance, John” you said looking back at him, meeting his gaze with your slightly pleading one. You knew you looked desperate and naive, but it had just been too long a game of cat and mouse and it wasn’t lighting up for you. You had tried getting over this crush for months, sleeping with other soldiers on the base, going out in various one-time dates. But all you could think about was Price, how it should’ve been him all along, how he’s the right one and all the others felt just so wrong.

Truth be told, Price secretly reciprocated the feelings. He had come to terms with it months ago after he realized you really were perfect and that a connection between the two of you very much existed. You had been occupying his thoughts a bit too often on a daily basis, and there had been times when he had given in on his late night temptations but felt guilty right after.

“It’s 10 years apart, love” he gave you a pained look.

“Who cares, John? I certainly don’t. Hell, my parents are years apart as well and no one gives a shit,” definitely not 10 years apart but you withheld that information from him.

“I’m your superior, doll, and I’m much older than you. It’s just not right.”

You stared at him with wide, beseeching eyes, as if you were gonna start tearing up. But you let out a sigh and shook your head at yourself. You smiled at him, feigning happiness and moved on from the conversation. He returned the smile knowing you were showing him a sign that you wanted to pretend that never happened, same as always, same as all the times he had turned you down before for the same concern about being too old for you.

The next morning was like every other morning. You had let the subject hide at the back of your mind, ignored it as best as you could. As always, it lingered and haunted you, but you continuously evaded it in your mind. Waiting for it to pass like a light cold.

You entered your office ready to start your day, to deal with papers upon papers, report to Price, and have the same chats and laughs with him as every other day that had gone by. Except as soon as you entered your office, an arrangement of flowers stood out like a sore thumb in the center of your work desk.

Asters, baby’s breaths, begonias, and dark pink carnations. You rolled your eyes as you approached it, thinking it was probably one of the soldiers you had most recently gone out with trying to get your attention after a mediocre date. You took the note that stuck out from the bouquet and read:

See you tonight at 8? Meet me in the parking lot.

Dress pretty for me, doll.

Check ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.

Return to sender.

-John.

You read it over and over again, feeling like your eyes were deceiving you. Well, you only knew of one John that called you ‘doll’, and you only knew one John who would do something this corny. But that same John was the one that had frequently expressed platonic feelings for you. Still, you clung onto hope that it really was from him. You ticked the box labeled ‘yes’ on the silly piece of paper, and couldn’t help the beat your heart skipped or the red staining your cheeks as you did so.

Later that day, you walked down the hallway of the base, heading to Price’s office to drop off the files you needed to report to him, and the note rested snug in your pocket. You debated whether you should bring it up, maybe it wasn’t him after all and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself to him more than you did on a daily occurrence. You entered his office and greeted him like always, placing the files on his desk. He greeted you and acknowledged you with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Thanks, love.” Price cleared his throat, “You got anything else for me?” He looked at you with raised brows expectantly.

So it was him, you thought. Your eyes lit up and your face turned scarlet. An involuntary smile crept up on your face, and you dug into your pocket for the note. You placed it on the table face down and without saying anything to him, you turned on your heels and walked speedily out of his office.

Price chuckled to himself and shook his head as he read the contents of the note.

You followed his written commands that night: dressed up at 8. You wore a satin slip dressed that hadn’t been worn to any of your previous rendezvous, as if it had been tucked away in waiting to be worn just for him. You waited in the parking lot like he instructed you and you were checking every second that ticked on your wrist watch, your breath hitching with each one. Until you saw him approach you, dressed in his civies; tight-fitting black shirt and jeans. The shirt contoured every bulging muscle in his body, solid and toned; his jeans fitting like a glove, a little too well in certain places.

He raked his eyes along your body in the light colored satin dress that clung to your body in all the right ways, eyeing you like you were a finely carved sculpture at a museum.

“You look stunning, love” he cooed, then extended his arm for you. “Shall we?”

You laced your arm around his bicep letting him escort you, your smile never leaving your face.

He took you to a bar you both had visited before with the rest of the team. This time it was just the two of you sitting in an isolated, dimly lit booth; a more romantic atmosphere than you had experienced previously the times you had been there with a group of drunken men.

The liquor you two ingested throughout the night was abundant, and it’s effects definitely reflected on you more than him. Your cheeks were burning red with alcohol and your movements were loose and fluid with him. You were carefree and loud and he loved every second of it, definitely getting a good amount of laughs from him. Although you two already had a fair amount of chemistry, courage was a real thing with you; you didn’t feel the slightest bit of shame or shyness with him tonight.

And he was enjoying himself just as much. The thought of how much he had been missing out on for rejecting you sporadically crossed his mind. He thought about how good you were as company, cherished you two’s daily routine, about how much he had been depriving himself of by not letting himself admit to you how he really felt.

Towards the end of the night your table was adorned with evidence of how much you two had drank and a sign that it was time you got back.

“Alright, that’s enough for ya,” he said sliding out of the booth, reaching his hand out for you to follow him. “Don’t want you getting too pissed, yeah?”

You laughed, taking the hand he held out to you and stepping out of the booth. You were tipsy but had control over yourself.

Once you exited the bar, you and Price idled outside before going back to the base, as he put a cigar to his lip and lit it. You watched him intently, observing how the cigar clung to his lips, how his lips wrapped around it.

“What made you change your mind?” You asked as you leaned against the wall next to you. He looked at you, taking a drag and exhaling it.

“Dunno,” he began “wanted to give you a chance, like you said.”

“What’s your verdict?”

He took a moment as he gathered his thoughts, taking another drag and looking into your eyes. He reached his arm to you, his knuckle brushed against your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“Been missing out on how good you can make me feel. Denied myself the joy of having you around like this…closer than when we’re in the office” He spoke earnestly, taking the cigar from his lips and maintaining it in his hand as he gazed into your eyes.

You took a step closer to him, your eyes never diverting away from his. He stepped closer to you as well.

In his mind, a voice told him this was a mistake. He was your superior, he was much older than you, this would never work out, and you were going to end up hurt. But a louder, more indulgent voice told him to get closer and closer to you, to place his hand on your waist and pull you closer.

Your eyes were dilated in the dimly lit back of the bar and his were dark blue pools that drowned you. You were pulled closer to him, snaking your hand up the arm that pulled you.

“So what happens next?” You asked in a soft and anticipatory voice.

“Do you want this?” He asked, almost a whisper.

You nodded, still not breaking eye contact. Your bodies were flush against each other by this point and your palms laid on his burly chest.

With that confirmation, Price leaned forward and his lips graced against yours. They were plump and soft, his beard and mustache caressing your soft skin as he pressed his lips with yours.

The kiss was longing yet tender and shy simultaneously. He pulled back slightly and leaned back in, this time his lips were slightly parted, hugging yours when they joined again. Your hands slid up his chest to around the back of his neck, entwining into the hair on his nape. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his body melding with yours, one of his hand snaked up your back as the other shifted slightly lower towards your hips, towards the small of your back.

He pulled back, face still centimeters from yours and his eyes meeting yours. The tip of his nose nuzzled yours. One of his hands came up to cup your face, thumb rubbing against your cheekbone, before his lips clashed against your own once more. This time, it was more filled with passion, more desire and less reservation. You held your breath as he kissed you, gripping his hair between your fingers and kissing him back just as fervently.

He took another step towards you, guiding your body against the wall behind you. His lips massaged against yours, opening your lips slightly as his tongue pried into your mouth. You welcomed it with the tip of your own, a pleased hum escaping your throat at the feeling.

His body was pressed against yours and your body was against the wall as he held you close and gripped your body, as if you would disappear if he didn’t hold you any tighter. The two of you broke away momentarily to catch your breaths before you leaned back in with force and desperation, this time he was the one letting out a pleasured groan. Both of his hands ran down the side of your body as if you were a piece of clay being sculpted on a pottery wheel, then reached for your ass, tightly gripping it, and making you moaned within the kiss.

The sound increased his desire for you, and you could tell not just by the force of his movements and his kisses, but because of the stiffness in his jeans. A hand now slid up your thigh and under the hem of your dress, slightly lifting it against him with a firm grip.

“John…” you moaned between his lips, your hand ran down his front and in between the two of you down to his crotch. You palmed his stiff manhood through his jeans and he let out a groan in response.

“Fuck, baby…” he exhaled, breaking the kiss momentarily “Not here.”

You looked at him puzzled, blown pupils and out of breath.

“You deserve to be fucked properly, sweetheart, not here in this alley. I need to fuck you right…in my bed” he whispered sultrily against your lips before planting a gentle kiss.

He took you into his room, barely able to take his hands off you on the way there. He kissed you deeply and sloppily, too desperate and hard by this point. You couldn’t complain, though, your panties felt soaked and uncomfortable, your pussy desperate for him to touch it.

You stood with him at the foot of his bed. His kisses were messy and wet, his hands groping every bit of your body. He kneaded your ass and slid up your front up to your breasts, cupping each mound of soft flesh in his large calloused hands. His fingers ran under the thin straps of your dress and he slid them down your shoulders and arms, letting the dress fall to the floor with ease, and leaving you in nothing but your white lacy panties. He pulled back to admire your bare body. God, the amount of times he had imagined what it looked like under your clothes, how many times he had fucked into his fist in the late nights that he couldn’t get the thought of you out of his head no matter how hard he tried. He devoured you with his eyes, then his hands returned to cup your breasts, gripping them with care and adoration, your nipples being taken between his index and middle finger.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. Your perfect tits…you’re so fucking perfect” he cooed, his words eliciting a moan from you and a palpitation in between your legs.

“Lay down for me, yeah?”

You complied, letting yourself onto the bed behind you. He palmed himself through his jeans as he looked down at you. He had you right where he wanted you, splayed out in his sheets ready, inviting him to fuck you. He crawled on top of you, your hands reaching to touch his torso. Your hands gripped at the hem of his shirt and hiked it up, silently signally for him to take it off, and he complied, kneeling over you as he tugged the shirt off his back.

Fuck, he was something else. He was godly and sculpted, he belonged in an art exhibit. As he sat back on his haunches and in between your legs, you ran your hands down his toned body, from his chest down to his abdomen and lower to his v-line, arriving at the waistband of his jeans.

“I need you, John,” you practically moaned. “Please”

“You need me, huh?” He smirked. “Go on then, love, ‘s all yours.”

You bit your lip and fumbled to unbutton his jeans, your hands shaky with a mix of shyness and excitement. He took your hands in his and helped you slide the zipper down, then helped you tug his jeans down and maneuvered himself out of them, now staying in his boxers. His length was explicitly contoured by the fabric of his underwear. It was obscene how big and girthy he was, your mouth and pussy watered at the sight. You stroked him through his boxers and he rutted against your hand.

“Come on, sweetheart, take it” he encouraged you, placing his hand on yours and rubbing it on himself, a low groan escaping his lips.

You pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free, and your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea how you’d be able to take that length. He smiled as if he could read your thoughts.

“Stroke it, love, go on.”

And you complied, wrapping your dainty fingers around his cock, making him sigh and cuss under his breath at the feeling of your gentle hands.

You tugged at it, stroking your hands up and down from tip to base. Your thumb rubbed the fat, leaking head of his cock, smearing the precum emerging from his slit. His eyes were on you the whole time, his breath ragged and his hips moving rhythmically with your slow strokes.

He reached down to you and took each of your thighs into his hands, spreading your legs open for him to accommodate himself between them. He leaned his body down, his face close to yours as he collided his lips with yours once more. He trailled his tongue from your lips, down to your chin, neck and sternum. His hands moved from your thighs to your breasts, kneading one in one hand, and took the other in his mouth.

He alternated between lapping at the sensitive buds and sucking the mounds, making you mewl and throw your head back at the sensation. The hand that was stroking him joined the other one at tugging the hair on his head to ground yourself.

His hands were all over you before they returned to grip your thighs; his mouth followed the same route, running down your abdomen before he settled cozily between your legs. He looked up at you as he left kisses and nips on the sensitive skin in your inner thighs. His eyes were dark and gleaming with pleasure. You looked like a mess wiggling under his touch, you couldn’t wait for him to finally take your panties off and taste you.

“You wore these for me, hm, baby?“ he rubbed your pussy through the lacy fabric as he looked up at you. “Were you thinking of me fucking you the whole night?”

You nodded shamelessly and it elicited a chuckle from him. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you? Wearing these for me, anticipating for me to fuck you.”

He tugged the panties down your legs, gripping them in his fist as he smelled and tasted the saturated crotch. He let out a satisfied hum before settling them on the other side of the bed. His hand now reaching for your bare pussy, running his thick fingers between your slick wet folds.

“So fuckin’ wet f’me and I’ve barely gotten started”

You moaned desperately at his slow and teasing touch, wiggling your hips to get more friction, but he stopped you by gripping your hips with his other hand.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart, you’re gonna be a good girl and stay still for me” he scolded you as he moved his fingers painfully slow, coating himself in your slick. You obeyed him, like the good girl he wanted you to be for him.

Because you were so obedient and docile, he rewarded you by rubbing his index and middle finger over your throbbing clit, making you suck in a breath and let out a moan. He rubbed the bundle of nerves with his wet fingers, slowly yet with the perfect amount of pressure, it made your eyes shut and your pussy flutter, getting impossibly wetter.

Price was watching every movement you made, his eyes alternating between looking up at you and back down at the sight of your glistening pussy and how his fingers looked on it.

He slid both digits inside your hole at a burning slow pace. The sensation of your hole stretching at the entrance and your walls clenching around them once he was in there made his dick twitch.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby, your pussy’s taking my fingers so well. So fuckin’ warm and tight.” He pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy, at first slowly and then increasing his pace little by little. It made you moan in blissful pleasure, your back arching off the mattress, making Price’s grip on your hip increase.

“Remember, doll; be a good girl for me and I’ll reward ya, ‘kay?” He warned, stilling his fingers inside you “Don’t make me have to punish you”

You nodded complacently. “ ‘M sorry, John” you pleaded.

He let out a small chuckle as he kissed your inner thigh again, whispering “that’s my girl” against your skin. He returned to pumping his fingers inside you, his pace increasing. His fingers curled inside you, pressing the spot within you that made you see stars. He played with your pussy so expertly, as if he knew his way around your body like a map he had memorized. He whispered praises as he fucked his fingers into you. You moaned like a madwoman overwhelmed with pleasure, your walls clenching and pulsating against his fingers.

He watched you unravel for a bit, before moving his face close to your pussy, sticking out his tongue to lap at your clit with his fingers slowing down their pace in and out of you. His tongue was flat, lapping at your stimulated clit at the rhythm of his fingers. It made you borderline scream and clamp down on his fingers.

“J-John, please!” You pleaded, not knowing at what, maybe pleading for him to have some mercy on you and grant you release. It drove him crazy to hear you say his name, sending a shock straight to his cock, motivating to lick and suck on your clit and his fingers fucked you harder and faster.

You were right there, right there, right at the verge of cumming. His other hand that once had a firm grip on your hip now loosened and let go, migrating to play with one of your breasts.

Now free, you rutted your hips against his mouth, his beard and mustache were coated in your juices that you smeared the more you moved on him. He moaned against your pussy and at the sensation of one of your hands tugging at his hair. Your other hand found itself gripping the sheets next to you. You were a mess of moans and begs for John to let you cum.

��Cum for me, darling, come on. Be a good fucking girl and cum for me, princess” he said against your pussy before returning to devour it.

You felt the pressure in your stomach well up, overwhelming you until you snapped and broke euphorically. You choked out a final moan as your back arched up against the mattress, your thighs closing around Price’s head; pussy clasping around his fingers and juices spilling out onto his face. You let out a sob as you came undone.

Price looked up at you, leaving kisses on your pussy as he removed his fingers from you.

“Atta girl,” he said softly. “You’re so perfect when you cum for me, love”

You were breathless and your mind was in a haze. You felt Price scale up your body and place his wet mustache against your cheek, planting a gentle kiss on it. You faintly heard him praise you, how good you did for him, how perfect you were.

“Look at me, darling,” he said as his hand grasped your jaw and turned your face to look at him, your eyes fluttered open and gazed at his with blown, dazed pupils.

“Will you give me another one, baby? You gonna let me fuck you once more?”

You nodded drunkenly and exhausted, “Y-yes… fuck me, John”

He smiled at you kindly, stroking your face with his hand and whispering “you’re so good for me, sweet girl”

He reached down to pump his painfully hard cock with the hand that was coated in your slick, letting out a soft moan, and aligned the tip at your entrance. His body weighed on yours, the two of you perfectly snug against each other. Your hands rested on the sides of your head on the bed and your legs were spread open for him, his body nestled between them. Slowly, he pushed his thick length into you, splitting you open. Your mouth fell open with a slow moan emerging from you. He moaned in unison with you at the feeling of your cunt encapsulating his yearning cock.

His forehead rested against yours, and the hand on your jaw moved to your neck, comfortably resting on it as he bottomed out into you, slowly and steadily. Once he was completely inside you, his pelvis flush against your clit, he stayed still for a moment, feeling how your walls fluttered around his cock.

Then, he began to thrust and gyrate his hips into you, at first slowly and then picking up the pace. You were still high off the first orgasm and your cunt was overstimulated by the new intrusion of Price’s cock. You were in overwhelming pleasure, clenching your cunt with every thrust from Price. Your eyes were locked with his, listening to his soft panting breaths that matched your own. You laid there taking his cock, feeling like you had died and gone to Heaven.

As you regained more of your conscience and strength, your arms rose and rested on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and holding him close. His free hand grabbed your thigh and wrapped it around him, granting him a deeper angle within you, making you moan as his cock hit that spot inside you once more.

You already felt the second wave washing over you. The feeling of him thrusting his cock inside of you was euphoric. The way his body moved against yours, how his hands held your body so tightly and bruising, the sound of his pants and choked out moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin. This is all you’ve been wanting all this time. You had been waiting for him to fuck you silly since the moment you met him, since you realized how desperate and infatuated you were with him. And now you had him, chasing his release, fucking you perfectly and hungrily. It made your heart race and your ears ring, your skin covered in goosebumps, your stomach tying into a knot as another orgasm built up inside of you.

“I’m close, baby,” he moaned against your lips, hands firmly gripping your hips as he pound against you.

“Cum inside me, John” you begged breathlessly “make me yours, please”

It drove him crazy to hear you beg like this, making him ram his cock into you relentlessly.

“You’re mine, Y/N” he growled “You’re only fuckin’ mine, my perfect girl”

His words and the speed and depth of his fucking made you see white again. Your second orgasm hit you like a truck as you clenched around his cock firmly, moaning against his mouth, legs shaking in his grasp.

The tightness of your pussy made him snap, shooting hot shots of cum into you. He moaned in unison with you, trembling and hips faltering as he flooded your insides.

The two of you came in tandem, holding each other tightly as you came down from your mutual highs. He kept slowly and messily pounding into you, stuffing his cum into you.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he sighed “so full with my cum. My girl takes my cock so well, so good for me.” He said as he peppered kisses over your sweaty face, stroking your hair with the hand that once held your neck.

You hummed at his words “all yours, John, ‘m all yours”. You were breathless and cockdrunk, your limbs going limp on the mattress. He chuckled softly at your words, his cock falling out of you and his fingers reaching down to stuff his escaping cum back into you, making you wince at the sensation.

He got off the bed, heading to the en suite bathroom to clean himself and coming back to wipe in between your legs with a damp wash cloth. You let him take care of you giving him an appreciative hum. He smiled at you as he did so, whispering praises. When he finished you rolled into a comfortable position in the bed, feeling the bed sink as his body came to join yours. He big spooned you, embracing you tightly against him. His hand pet your hair, fingers tucking the loose strands behind your ear. You fell asleep under his touch and he watched you, feeling smitten with you in his arms.

A/N: this word count is fucking CRAZY!!! I’m sorry for the length yall I got carried away. But if you’re here, hope you enjoyed!!!! Love ya <3

P.S. for funsies, look up the meaning of the flowers in the arrangement for extra corniness.

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actiniumwrites · 6 months ago

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hii may i request a hurt/comfort scenario with kazuha and alhaitham where reader feels insecure about their looks >< no need to specify what they feel insecure about specifically but they just don’t think they’re pretty enough for charac !!!

worthy

synopsis: you don’t feel good enough for them. they beg to differ.

characters: kazuha, alhaitham x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, insecurity, crying, some humor, not proofread

notes: thanks for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy this, i really liked how kazuha’s turned out. alhaitham was so difficult to write for this prompt though 🥲

Kazuha:

You don’t know when it started. When, one day, your brain decided to make the shift from feeling the luckiest in the world to feeling utterly trapped. Maybe it was the way people looked at him, or maybe it was the way you never felt deserving of him in the first place, but either way, it didn’t matter.

It started in little things. Most days it just consisted of you wallowing in your reflection anytime you caught a glimpse of it. A passing moment of painful recollection that makes you feel less than deserving of him.

“Are you alright?” your boyfriend blurts out randomly. It isn’t like him, you think. Kazuha has never been the type of person to waste his words so suddenly without thought. His words are usually sugar coated and flow gently in the wind so as to not evoke harsh emotions.

The question makes you visibly pause. Quietly, you clasp your hands together to stop them from the inevitable shaking. Your shoulders seem to droop a little further and he hates the way your bottom lip dips into a depressing tremble.

“I’m sorry,” you exhale defeatedly, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth.

“What for? I don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong,” his gentle white brows furrow. You hate how concerned he looks. Couldn’t he just be angry for once? At least then you wouldn’t feel so insane.

You bury your face in your hands, trying to shield yourself from not only him, but the entire world. It constantly feels like you have prying eyes on you, tearing apart each and every feature on your body. And, just as you predicted earlier, the tears you’ve become long acquainted with begin to make their way to the forefront of your eyes until they’re too heavy to hold.

Kazuha gently pushes your hands aside, instinctively placing them in your lap so he could wipe away your sadness. Still, you hang your head against your aching chest and let the pain seep out through your voice, “Don’t you hate it? The way I look? Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Bother me? No. Of course not. I love everything about you. I could gaze into a thousand sunsets and the view still wouldn’t be as alluring as you are. There is no amount of stars in the beaming night sky or the deep red of fresh autumn leaves that could compare to you. Every time my hand aches to write a piece of poetry, it longs to write about you.”

You bashfully look away, trying to hide the smile appearing through your frown as you gaze out into the field next to you. Tenderly, Kazuha tilts your face back toward his as his ruby red eyes stare intensely into yours. You look back and forth between them before laughing quietly through your tears.

He hums proudly, shaking your shoulder a bit before leaning in to place a quick kiss to your lips, “and don’t try to deny it. You know every word I speak is nothing but the truth. I would never lie to you, honestly.”

Your eyes soften as you look at him, understanding now that your boyfriend is right. You’ve read his writing enough to know that whatever Kazuha found to hold truly beautiful was indeed actually beautiful. Because, in a world full of subjectivity, his word is like the law.

Alhaitham:

Alhaitham is practically flawless in all ways. It’s something you’ve realized long before you began dating him — began being friends, even. Aside from his harsh personality, he’s handsome, intelligent, a good leader, and so much more.

It makes you question why he’s even with you. Most of the time, you only joke about it with him and sometimes he even laughs about it. But there are the times where it isn’t just a passing comment or silly thought in the back of your mind, but rather, a growing virus that spreads a dangerous, lingering toxin throughout your body.

“Is something the matter?” Alhaitham nudges your shoulder quietly from beside you. He’s nice enough not to embarrass you in front of the group, shockingly. Despite being his partner, he didn’t often spare you of his “cruelties.”

Your eyes snap to his and out of the faraway place of insecure thoughts you were trapped in for a moment. Silently, you nod and return to listening to the group of people presenting a project to Alhaitham for approval at the Akademiya. His eyes continue to linger on you for a second, not buying any lies you might make up to make it seem like you’re okay. As apathetic as he may be, Alhaitham has indeed found a place in his heart to care about you.

But you can’t help but feel insecure as you watch them. All of them are so attractive and everyone in the room looks so drawn to them, eager to get a word in after. It makes you wonder what Alhaitham even sees in you. A man like himself, he could have anyone in the world.

“I could.”

“What?” your head snaps to him in terror, whispering a little too harshly, “did I say that out loud?”

“No. I can read minds, so I know what you’re thinking,” your boyfriend says blankly. You stare at him in sheer panic before the tiniest of smiles breaks out on his face, “I was joking.”

You frown and shove him ever so slightly away from you, “Yeah, well you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Alhaitham takes one step closer to you than he had before, assuming the position he was in before you pushed him away. Only this time, he gently loops his arm with yours, something he only does when he feels a little more like showing affection. He isn’t the most physically affectionate, but you know what he means by it.

“I’m serious. I know that look on your face,” he whispers from next to you before turning to actually face you, “I could have anyone in the world, so why do you think I chose you?”

“Out of pity? I mean, look around us. I’m not exactly the best looking here,” you mumble, attempting to fight off the growing lump in your throat. So maybe Alhaitham isn’t so perfect, because you sure as hell hate the way he shows comfort.

He sighs irritated, “No, you idiot. Pity is a form of emotion I’ve never felt for anyone, not even you. You’re above the rest of them, so don’t doubt it for a second. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here with you right now.”

“You’re so mean, you know? You don’t have to put other people down just to make me feel better,” you say, fighting a smile. He really should’ve taken a class on human emotion back in his scholar days.

Alhaitham turns away from you now, facing the presenters and ignoring your defense against his words, “I only speak truthfully. You are the only person in all of Teyvat that I want. You can choose to believe it or not, but that’s factual information.”

He’s right. Alhaitham hates lying because he sees no point in it. It’s something he’s told you a thousand times, maybe even more.

“Will you say it then?”

You still don’t believe him anyway.

He quirks a brow, “Say what?”

You hold onto his arm a little tighter, afraid he might slip away from you. That bit of doubt still lingering in your mind, “That you think I’m…you know…?”

Alhaitham sighs but gives in regardless. Staring you dead in the eyes with no room for any semblance of a lie, he whispers quietly, “Yes, I think you’re the prettiest person in all of Teyvat.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x y/n #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n

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lexisecretaccx · 5 months ago

Text

A+ Student FINALE

Masterlist!

(Femreader, pretty long, drama, fluff, I didn’t rlly know how to end this bro, not proofread!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

Y/n POV

I get woken up by my phone buzzing, it’s 2am who’s calling me? I sit up and grab it off my bedside table. Chris? I answer it, “hello?” I ask sleepily. “I’m so sorry I woke you up,” he spoke softly, “it’s okay, what’s wrong?”

“Please don’t drop Matts class, I had a talk with him everything’s okay he just doesn’t want you to throw away something you’re good at.” Chris replies. “Everything’s good with you and him? And me?” I need to make sure, “yeah he said he wants you to be happy and he’s not going to mess with your feelings, he knows how much I like you.” I can’t see it but I know he’s smiling.

“Really? That’s great!” I sit up further, “Fine, I won’t drop his class then, I do enjoy the subject I just didn’t wanna be in the same class as him but if it’s all good then okay!” I say enthusiastically.

“Can we meet up tomorrow? After college?” He asks me, “Yeah sure,” I groan as I stretch. “Go back to sleep y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He chuckles, “Goodnight.” I mumble as I fall further into my pillow. He hangs up as I instantly fall back to sleep peacefully.

I’m glad everything is good between them, I feel bad for being mad at Matt but.. I did have a right to, but him and Chris also had a right to be mad at me.. I won’t dwell on the past.

My alarm chimes, “Fuck..” I sit up and shut it off, I go to shower and get dressed before applying makeup and getting my bag ready. I walk downstairs, toast a waffle and eat it up to my table.

“Hey sweetie.” my dad walks down the stairs, “Morning dad, you sleep well.” I ask him as he makes a coffee, “Eh, same as usual.” He groans, he sits down opposite me, “No syrup or anything with that?” He points at the waffle on my plate, “No I didn’t want any.” I smile, “Weirdo.” He laughs sipping his coffee.

I check my phone, and he checks his and then it’s time for me to leave. “I’m gonna head off, see you later dad!” I stand up, “See ya Pumpkin.” He waves from the table, “Wait dad I forgot,” I turn around, “I’m going out with a friend after college so I’ll be back late.” He smiles, “That’s okay I’ll be in work anyway, but stay safe!”

I leave and start to walk, I make it to college early and walk in and sit in the library. “You’re here early.” Matt spoke, my head flicked up from the book I was reading, “I underestimated my walking speed.” I chuckle quietly. “Can I sit?” He points opposite me, I nod.

“Chris talked to you yesterday right?” I whispered, we’re in a library even though literally nobody is in here. “Yeah, I just want you to know that there’s no hard feelings, I liked you but not the same way you liked me whereas Chris.. you’re one of the only things he talks about.” Matt chuckles.

It hurt hearing him say he didn’t like me the same way I liked him but, I don’t have those feelings for him anymore so it doesn’t matter. “Really?” I smile, “Yeah it’s always, y/n this.. y/n that.. and in between he talks about some bullshit nobody really understands.” He grins, “I really like him Matt.”

“I told him I didn’t wanna get in the way of you both, I mean.. he literally quit his job for you, that’s something I couldn’t do for anyone.” Matt sighs, “And I apologise.. for messing with your head and lying and everything. Just know I won’t do that again, you and Chris can be happy and I won’t ruin that.” He smiles softly, “Thank you.” I nod.

“Thank you, for not dropping the class, you’re the top student.. You’re an A+ Student.. even without ‘extra credit’ and you will pass the course easily.” He spoke quietly. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for being rude to you yesterday, I was just upset.” I added.

“It’s alright it’s understandable-” he goes to speak but he gets cut off by his phone pinging. “Oh shit I gotta go to set up class, I’ll see you in a bit.” He gets up and walks out the library.

After 10 minutes I leave the library and turn down the hallway, I see Lizzy, Mason, Ethan, Myla, and Kelly all talking and laughing. I walk over to them, “Hi.” I smile, they instantly stop talking and turn to face me, “Oh hey.” Lizzy spoke awkwardly. Kelly is staring into my soul, why have they all stopped talking when I show up?

“What are you guys talking about?” I try to break the awkwardness, “Oh nothing much.” Mason nods, “You can continue talking, don’t let me stop you.” I chuckle nervously, “Uh.. Mason and Kelly how did your date go yesterday?” Ethan changes the subject, I look to Mason and Kelly who are both blushing.

I guess she has a type.. anyone who shows interest in me. I’m joking but still, “It went well.. we’re sorta dating now.” Kelly giggles, “Yeah.” Mason looks directly at me for a response, “Congrats.” I smile. I’m not jealous at all, I’ve got Chris.

“Did you know Mr Sturniolo quit his job?” Ethan says to Mason, “What why?” He replies, I fiddle with my hand’s anxiously. “He had ‘more important things to focus on’,” Ethan scoffs, “My mom is the headmasters assistant so she told me, but if you ask me.. I think he was fucking a student.”

I look to him instantly, “What made you think that?” I ask him, “Apparently he had Hickeys on his neck, but here’s the thing.. he didn’t have them when he got here.. he must’ve got them from someone here.” He chuckles, “Are you sure he wasn’t dating one of the staff here?” I tried to hide my nervousness.

“Why are you defending him,” Ethan laughs, “Are you the student he was sneaking around with.” He crosses his arms, “What no! I wouldn’t date a teacher.” I try and defend myself, “I never said date, plus he quit his job so he’s not a teacher anymore.” He snarks.

“Can you just stop, I’m too tired to deal with bullshit.” I sigh, “Tired from fucking Mr Sturniolo is it?” Lizzy joins in, “Liz what?” I scoff, “I was joking.” She awkwardly chuckles. Kelly doesn’t say a word, “You okay?” Mason wraps an arm around her, I know what she’s thinking, she’s fucked Matt and is nervous anyone might find out.

“Yeah, great.” She replies. “You a teacher fucker Y/n? Hm?” Ethan leans down to my ear, I shake my head. “Ethan I said stop.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Everything okay here?” A familiar voice, Matt. Kelly turns around so quickly you would think someone was offering a million bucks for free.

“Yep professor, everything’s peachy.” Ethan fake smiles and places his hand on my shoulder. “Ethan’s being a dick.” I spoke out, his expression shifts to betrayal or some shit. “Yeah well y/n is a teacher fu-” Ethan goes to speak and cuts himself off as Matt is Chris’ brother.

“Kelly you didn’t do your homework that was due Friday.” He spoke to her, her face so sheepish you woulda thought she saw a ghost. “Sorry Mat- Professor.” She stutters, I try not to laugh because of how nervous she is. “It’s fine but get it done by tomorrow.” He nods going to walk away until he stops and turns on his heels.

“And Ethan?” He calls, Ethan looks up.. “Don’t spread rumours about my brother, I could get your mother in trouble for telling you confidential information.” He tilts his head, “Sorry sir.” He looks down at his feet. Matt walks away.

“What was that about Kels?” Liz asks Kelly, Kels? Since when were they that close friends, “What?” Kelly stutters, “Your little nervous moment then.” Liz chuckles, “You gotta crush on Professor Sturniolo?” She smiles, “No!” Kelly shakes her head, Mason looks down at Kelly confused.

“It’s fine, I know someone else who does.” Liz looks at me and smirks, “Nope, not anymore.” I look at her, “Mhm sure.. what about Mr Sturniolo, you told me you liked him.” She teases, “Whatever.” I roll my eyes I’m sick of this what is she doing?

“I’m gonna go to class.” I push past Mason and Ethan, “You got another 20 mins, do you just wanna see Professor Sturniolo?” Ethan teases, “No, I just wanna get away from you all. The only one who isn’t being an asshole is Kelly.” I nod at her, “I’ll go to class with you, so you aren’t alone.” She smiles and walks next to me.

“Yeah okay.” I nod, and we walk to class. I knock the door, before walking in with Kelly. Matt turns to us, “Everything good?” He asks me, “No they pissed me off so I came to class early, Kelly came aswell.” She walks in next to me, “Hi.” She waves nervously, “Hey you okay?” He smiles, she nods.

I never thought I’d be friends with the girl who Matt fucked without me knowing, but she’s nice. We sit down next to each-other in my row, just until class starts. “I feel bad that they were teasing you.” Kelly whispers so Matt doesn’t hear, “Yeah it’s fine.” I sigh, I pull out my notes. “If I’m being honest, I also had a crush on him.” She points at Matt who is sat at his desk writing stuff down.

“I know.” I chuckle a bit, “How did you know?” She tilts her head, “I could just tell by your body language whenever he would talk to you.” I smile at her, “Oh that’s so embarrassing.” She covers her face, “It’s fine don’t worry.” I start to write down some notes.

“Ethan said he saw your insta story the other day.” Kelly whispers, my head turns to her, “The car one?” She leans closer to me so she can speak quieter. “Don’t ask me how I know but, that was his car right?” She points at Matt again, “yeah but.. not him.” I sigh, “Oh shit.” I speak again as I realise what I was talking about.

I don’t even know her enough and I basically just admitted to the thing that Ethan was accusing me of, “It’s fine, wanna know a secret?” She smirks, “What?” I reply and she sighs “don’t tell anyone please?” She looks at me, “As long as you don’t tell anyone what we’re talking about in general here.” I nod.

“I promise not to,” she puts her pinky out and we pinky promise on it. “I fucked him..” she signals to Matt, “I feel super guilty about it too because I shouldn’t have but.. it was in the moment and you know.. but I called things off almost instantly. I still feel awkward though but he said it’s okay.” She sighs.

“It’s alright, I won’t tell anyone.” I smile at her, I’m glad I’m making a new friend because Lizzy has changed. Little does Kelly know, both of us have fucked Matt but I’m not gonna tell her that. “So you and Mr Sturniolo did.. fuck?” She whispers, I nod, “So Ethan was right?” She sighs.

“Yeah.” I scribble on the plain paper infront of me, “Your secret is safe with me I promise, I fucking hate Ethan in general and he made me so annoyed when he was pressing you about it.” She scoffs, “He usually tells his mom everything.” She rolls her eyes, “Ugh.” I groan.

We talk for a bit and class starts, Kelly returns to her seat and people come in, Matt starts the lesson.

Halfway through the class Ethan and his mom walk in, my heart sinks. What are they doing here, I pretend to continue doing my work and Matt walks up to them. I look up and see Ethan pointing at me, Matt walks up next to me and leans down “They want you to go with them, I think Ethan said something about what he was talking to you about earlier.” Matt pulls an awkward face.

“Oh shit.” I stand up and walk down to them, Ethan grins and I roll my eyes, “Y/n we have to talk to you, Ethan go back to class.” His mom dismissed him and walks to the principals office with me, my heart is beating so quickly.

She lets me in and instantly I’m greeted by the principal. “Sit down.” He’s a tall man, like super tall. 6ft 4 at least. He looks down at me as he demands me to sit. I do exactly that and sit in the seat across from his desk. “We’ve had a very serious accusation..” he sits down opposite me.

“Mrs Winters’ son has told her some information you need to clear up.” He signals her to come closer, “Ethan has revealed to me that he has suspicions that you had a physical relationship with a teacher here. Is that true?” She stands infront of me, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ethan was accusing me of it earlier and stuff but it’s not true.”

“He also told me that you had told him some information, but that was confidential information so that’s not good.” I turn the tables and start accusing her, her eyes widen. “Do not switch the topic.” She demands, “Oh no I’m not, it’s very much on the same topic.” I lean back in my chair. The principal looks at her, “Is that true?” He asks.

“I had only told him about the situation with Mr Sturniolo and the hickeys on his neck, and the reason he quit his job and I told him I thought it was suspicious!” She defends herself, “That was private between Mr Sturniolo and us, you shouldn’t spread that. But on the topic of Mr Sturniolo.” He directs his attention to me.

“Did you, or did you not.. have a sexual relationship with Christopher Sturniolo during his time teaching here?” He spoke more sternly. “I did not.” I lie, “Why was there footage of you and him in a car together, not long ago? Also an instagram story that shows different.”

Fuck.. my own actions coming back on me, something I did just to make Matt jealous is coming back at me. “Well..” I try to defend myself but get interrupted. “The car you had on the instagram story is the same one that Professor Sturniolo drives, and if I’m correct, he shares that car with his brother Christopher Sturniolo.. right?”

I nod, “So you’re admitting it?” He tilts his head, “He’s not a teacher anymore so there’s no problem with it.” I cross my arms, “So you do have some sort of relationship with him?” Mrs Winters asks me, I shrug. “It wasn’t bad. We didn’t do anything until he quit his job.” I lie but it was a good lie.

“But the hickeys on his neck?” He looks at me, “It was just a make out session, I didn’t know I did that.” I pretend to feel guilty but I don’t, I meant every single one of those marks I left on his neck. “Y/n you know what this means?” He leans forward and sighs, “If your grades weren’t A’s and A+’s you would have to be expelled.”

“But, since you’re a good student, you’re good for our public scores so selfishly of the school we will keep you here, but if we catch any suspicious activity we will not refrain from taking immediate action.” He spoke sternly. I nod, “okay thank you, I’m sorry.” I sigh, I can feel Mrs Winters’ eyes burning into me.

“What happens now?” I ask quietly, “We will have to send you home until tomorrow.” He looks at me with disappointment. I get out of the chair and walk to the door, “I’m sorry again.” I look back, he nods before signalling for Mrs Winters to sit down. She was telling personal information to her son that’s gotta get her in trouble.. right?

I walk past the English classroom and remember that I left my jacket in there. “Shit..” I mutter under my breath. I knock the door timidly and walk in, the class still full of students learning. “I need my jacket.” I mumble, “Are you not staying?” Matt tilts his head and I shake mine, “I got sent home.” I turn away from the class and widen my eyes at him.

He gets the idea of what I mean and nods quickly, “Oh.. okay.” He goes back to his desk, I walk to my seat next to Kelly and grab my jacket off the seat. “What’s happening?” She whispers to me, “You know what I told you?” I whisper back to her, “Yeah..” she leans to hear me better, “They had evidence or something, I’m not expelled but just suspended for a day.” I sigh, “Oh no.. I’ll see you tomorrow though.” She smiles gently.

I walk out the English classroom, giving a small wave to Matt and walking down the hall and out the school door. I grab my phone out and text Chris, he can pick me up now. “We can meet up now. I’ll explain, can u pick me up? xx” I text him. Not even 5 minutes pass before his typing bubble pops up.

“Ok ma On my way! x” I chuckle, his text was followed by an “omw dk why it auto corrected x” I smile to myself and wait outside the school gates until I see the minivan pull up. The window rolled down he leans over to me, “Matt took the Porsche.” He rolls his eyes and I hop into the passenger seat.

“Why are you out early?” He looks at me, “I got kicked out, just for today but they found out about us.” I put my seatbelt on, his eyes widen, “Oh shit, how?” He starts to drive and rests his hand on my thigh, “Mrs Winters was telling Ethan about your personal meeting with the Principal and Ethan borough up the insta story and everything and you know..” I sigh.

“I’m sorry ma.” He gives a gentle squeeze to my thigh, “No it’s okay, if I wasn’t an A+ Student I would’ve gotten expelled according to the Principal, they need me for their publicity purposes.” I laugh, he chuckles too. “Selfish fuckers, but it’s good for you.” We stop at a stop light and he looks at me, “Wanna go for food?” He smiles.

“Yes please, I’m starving.” I pretend to rub my stomach. “What does your stomach crave my dear?” He puts a fake posh English accent on and leans closer to me, “McDonald’s.” I nod grinning. “What fine cuisine.” He jokes still in the awful English accent. “You’re bad at the accent.” I smirk.

“We aren’t going to McDonald’s if you hate on my accent.” He huffs before smiling lightly. “It’s really bad though.” I snark, “don’t be bratty.” He scoffs at me and squeezes my thigh tightly. “I’m sorry, I love the accent.” I lie. “Okay we can get McDonald’s now.”

“What do you want, in advance?” He asks as he drives towards the McDonalds sign in the distance, “Hm, McNuggets please.” I ask in an overly polite tone, “Alright.” He replies, “We can get a share box if you want.” He pulls into the drive thru, “Yeah sure.”

He orders the nuggets, fries and drinks and we pick it up after he pays. We pull into the parking lot to eat the food, “You should’ve had a large fry like I did.” He spoke, stuffing his mouth full of fries. I laugh, “What?” He asks me, “Swallow your food before talking.” I continue laughing.

He finishes his fries before talking, “Y/n I have something I want to ask you, a serious-ish question.” He turns to face me fully, “Yeah? Ask me anything I smile at him admiring his features. “Would you.. do you think you- will you be my girlfriend?” He whispers slightly, my eyes widen and I smile at him. “Really?” I smile widely.

“No I’m just joking,” he sarcastically spoke, “Yes really? Will you?” He smiles, I nod quickly, “Yes! Of course.” I lean to him and grab his face before pushing my lips against his. His hand makes its way behind my neck to deepen the kiss. We part our lips and sit back down normally, “I’m glad it’s official now.” He eats some chicken McNuggets.

‘Yeah.” I smile, my cheeks flushed. I look down to eat the nuggets, “Chris!” I raise my voice, “What?” He asks. “You’ve eaten almost all of them! We said 10 each, you’ve eaten 14.” I pretend to cry, “I’ll go buy you more if you want? Sorry baby.” He goes to get out, “No it’s okay,” I laugh, “just let me eat the rest of them.

I snatch the box out of his hand and eat the rest of the 6 nuggets that are left. “Can I have some of your drink?” He asks me, “Drink your own.” I chuckle, “I did, it’s empty now.” He sighs, I scoff. “Fine have a sip.” I look at him to make sure he is, he gulps twice. “That was two sips.” I joke, “Don’t boss me around or I’ll chug it.”

“I’m breaking up with you if you chug my drink.” I laugh, he instantly puts it back down. “Also.. what you said yesterday?” I bring up the conversation we had yesterday, “Yeah?” He hesitates probably trying to remember what he said, I speak again..

“I think I love you too.”

A/n: Omg u guys it’s finisheddddd, I hope the ending is okay, I couldn’t be bothered to explain like any more of the school stuff in the story bc I felt like it was taking too much time but I hope y’all liked this series I loved writing it. New series at some point but I might take a slight break for a bit and only put out one shots for a bit js bc I need a break for a bit❤️❤️ love y’all!

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi @nayveetbhh @sturnsmadl @mattspleasure @m0r94n @raysmayhem-72 @flamethrower313 @carolinalikesthings @itssophiasstuff @joemamaaa42069 @creamoncreamoncream2 @conspiracy-ash

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt #chris

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love-hs28 · 6 months ago

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It’s okay, you’re allowed to feel this way.

Having to stay after school for Chemistry help wasn't the most ideal situation to be in after having a bad day. And coming home to Peter being so nice makes it almost impossible to hold your emotions in. (You’re living with Peter, May, and Ben bc your parents died in an accident w. Peter's parents. Not important to the story but jsyk)

CW: Reader has panic attack & cries a bunch Hurt/Comfort & Fluff Reader's gender isn't specified 1.3k Words Posted on 5-25-24

My third post, ahhhh!! I cannot thank you guys enough for the love I've seen so far on my first two posts. PLEASE lmk what else you'd like to see! I hope you enjoy this one!!

You had to stay after school one day to get some extra help with your chemistry homework. You didn’t struggle much in your classes, but for some reason, your chemistry class had been giving you absolute hell all semester. It never seemed like you could get the hang of it, and just when you were starting to think you were understanding what was going on, a new concept would be introduced and your progress would restart from the beginning. Peter usually helps you with any tough classwork because he always seems to know what the teacher is going to teach before class even starts, but this time your teacher insisted that you stay after so you could get some ‘real’ help, whatever that meant. You’re pretty sure that if she was actually able to teach you better than Peter could you would have already asked her for help, but whatever.

You come home and slam the front door as you walk in. May and Ben are still at work and Peter is in the shed working on something for his suit, as he typically is after a school day. You kick your shoes off and angrily walk upstairs. Your bedroom door slams shut as you carelessly toss your backpack on the floor, sitting on the edge of your bed with your face in your hands. You’d felt anxious all day and having to stay after for fucking chemistry and still not understanding it definitely wasn’t helping. You try to control your breathing and just forget about the day and focus on the plans you had with Peter later.

Out in the shed, Peter could sense that you were home, (he also heard the front door slam), which meant that he could also tell that you weren’t in the best state. He set aside his spidey stuff and made his way into the house and to your room.

You hear a gentle knock on the door and Peter hesitantly saying your name. “Y/n? You in there?”

You sigh and look up. “Yeah.”

He cracks the door open and peaks in. “Can I come in?”

You muster a smile, “Sure.”

He comes in and shuts the door behind him. He gives a warm smile and comes over to give you a kiss and plops down next to you.

“Hey bub. How was your day?” He absentmindedly rubs your knee with his hand. You know he already knows how your day went and is just trying to be nice.

You sigh, “Shit. How was yours?”

He frowns and tucks a hair behind your ear. “Mine was boring. Much better now though; why was it bad?”

You sigh and stand up and begin to pace. “Well, as you know, I had to stay after for chem help and I’m sure you can guess how that went. I literally cannot fucking understand it no matter how hard I try and it gets so annoying because I’m good in like every other subject but that and I just don’t understand why.” You run your hands over your face and Peter is looking at you, concerned but attentive. “Not to mention the subway ride home was horrible; I had to sit across from this creepy fucking pedo who wouldn’t stop starting at me and he fucking winked at me when I got up to leave,” Tears start prickling in your eyes and your breathing gets heavy and uneasy. Peter notices this and you see that he’s about to get up and come over to you. “And to make it all worse, I saw a stray dog on the way home and he was just limping and I think he hurt his paw or something and I wanted to go help him but I didn’t know if he was a nice dog or whatever so I didn’t want to risk it but he looked so sad and helpless and I felt so bad and now I wanna go back and find him and help him or take him somewhere or something because it’s not fair that he has to be all alone and scared especially when it's getting so cold and I also think I’m about to start my period so that doesn’t fucking help and I’m just-” You’re fully crying now, on the verge of sobbing, and Peter comes over and wraps his arms around you. You bring your hands up to his chest and sob into his shirt while he gently rubs your back.

He guides the two of you over to your bed and you sit down, your body turned into him and his arms still around you. “It’s okay, honey. Let it out, I got you.”

You sob and your breath is coming in short gasps. Peter softly kisses your head over and over again to try and calm you down.

“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know w-why I’m such a m-mess.” You grip his shirt as tears stream down your face. You can feel him shake his head and gently shush you.

“Shh, don’t apologize. It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel this way, I’m right here.”

You let out another sob because he’s being so nice and his hand that's not on your back comes up to brush your hair out of your face. As always, when the tears start to die down, the uneven breathing picks up. Peter knows this pattern by now, and rubs your back more firmly.

“Deep breaths, baby. Follow my breathing, okay?” He exaggeratedly takes deep breaths while maintaining eye contact and you try your best to match the rise and fall of his chest, focusing on his heartbeat under your ear.

When your breathing eventually slows down, you pull back a bit to sit more upright and rub your eyes, hiccuping. Peter gently puts a hand on the side of your face and tilts it so you’re looking at him. He has a sad but loving look in his eyes that almost makes you want to start crying again. He uses his thumb to gently wipe the remaining tears on your face and kisses your forehead.

You lean your head to rest on his chest and he rests his head on top of yours. You take a few more deep breaths before leaning up again to look at him. He kisses your forehead once more and softly smiles.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. He holds you close to him as you breathe him in, the last step to really calming you down.

“Don’t thank me, Y/n/n. ‘s what I’m here for. I’m sorry your day was so shit, you don’t deserve that.”

You lightly shrug and lean back to softly kiss his lips. “You made it better, it’s okay.”

He smiles and tucks a hair behind your ear. “If you want, we can postpone our date tonight and just stay in and watch a movie. Whatever you want.”

You shake your head, “No, I think going out to do something will actually help. Get my mind off everything, y’know.”

He smiles and nods. “Good, because I’ve got something planned that you’re gonna loooveeee,” He says teasingly, and you laugh as he moves you both in a lying position.

“Oh really, what is it??” You rest your head on his chest and pull one of your legs up over his. He pulls the blanket over you two and takes your hand into his to play with his fingers.

“Nope, sorry bug, it’s a surprise.”

You giggle through your nose and snuggle into him. “Well, I’m very excited.”

He kisses your head once more and you lay there for a bit while he plays with your hair and rubs your back, and you’re finally at peace.

Hope you enjoyed! As always, please leave requests and such for me. Love you all <3

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psychelis-new · 1 year ago

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pick a pile: "People's first impression of you"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read what kind of first impression you generally leave on people you randomly meet both irl and online. Please beware I will focus on your person's first impression of you in another pac. There're similar pacs on Instagram (@/psychelis.new) too, if you need confirmations or a different outlook.

Music channeling has to be taken mostly for vibes/titles this time

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

People sees you as someone determined and passionate. You may come out as a very powerful person, strong-willed (especially in your career/studies) and they may feel you are quite the leader. Some may feel intimidated by you even, but still deeply respect you and be inspired by you in a way. You may be considered as impulsive sometimes, and a bit stand-offish, but this comes mostly from people that kinda envy you. I do think you are kinda considerate and pretty grounded, at least on most days. Some people may be attracted by you, you probably emanate this light of security and confidence that attracts people; and you may be also kinda seen as someone who is able to reach anything in their life and doesn't have many problems (you may be a private person). I do think there's something in the way you dress, in your smile or look, that really shows your confidence (when we do something we love and aren't self conscious but focus on that, we do look confident no matter if we feel we are or not) and people really likes that. It could also be the way you dance or your body moves when you're with friends or something.

song: you're the one that i want | lo-fang

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pile 2

You're a sweet caring type, maybe a bit shy, but still very warm to others and deeply respectful. Your energy is a bit nervous at times, it could be for social situations in particular. A little "all over the place", like you may forget stuff and then remember all of a sudden once you're doing something else (and need to interrupt what you're doing to move on that other subject). People think you're cute though. You may be on the little side (you're short/thin/small) but it doesn't have to be. The way you act makes you look in need to be protected and comforted. You are youthful too, your smile is so very kind and warm, but somehow you tend to fear showing it at times (probably you're a bit insecure about your appearance and try to downplay yourself or you try to hide yourself... you may not enjoy too much staying under the spotlight). You are seen as someone very positive but also kinda moody, with lots of energy's ups and downs. People notice when you feel uneasy or something troubles you. At times you may fear being too much, especially when you're hyped. But you're not (and if someone sees you as so, it's not on you). People feel good when being with you, you're "comfortable" (people may randomly open up to you). You know how to make people feel at ease/seen. You may bring hope to people just through your presence.

song: until i found you | stephen sanchez

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pile 3

People sees you as warm, joyful and optimistic. You're also giving grounded and kinda "mature" vibes. It's like... you let others see you without many filters, you know where to put a fullstop or put boundaries to others (many may wrongly label you because of this as cold or rude). You value your space and you don't let others' opinions of you affect you too much. People may see you as giving and also as deserving of good things. You look very warm-hearted, you probably support others in some way or volunteer. You trust your guts more often than not and people sees you as brave too. You look very collected and even after sharing a few words, they may fall for your mind and the way you articulate your words and thoughts. You're very determined and positive. You don't mind being seen for who you are or to comfort others through your personal experience. They see you as someone important in their life and many would like to keep you in their life for as long as possible. You may inspire others with your words and many may try to copy you or use your words as if they were theirs. You don't seem too annoyed though. You're not that easily annoyed or worried (or if you are at first, you have learned how to deal with it and look at it from a different perspective). You may even get haters but you don't give them what they want. [feels like you're kinda "famous" and have fans and haters, even just after first impressions]

song: what you heard | sonder

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pile 4 (this pile is longer but there's a reason)

You seem pretty reserved, even closed off. You probably are in an hermit period or you just don't trust others very much. It may be also that you're healing parts of yourself and you are more on your own, and despite you'd like to not feel alone, you kinda ended up into this cycle/habits of closing off to others. You may be a bit too fixed in your mentality. It's black or white and nothing else. You need to like or dislike something (or someone), there's no space for uncertainty... as if uncertainty was something unbearable. It feels too unsafe for you (root chakra unbalanced). You think through boxes. The fact that other possibilities may exist, seems a concept that is too far from you: the fact that grey may exists as well and be as correct as black or white, is strange... no, it's almost impossible. So this is what happens with people too: you may start talking with someone but if they don't check all the points of your list and think exactly as you even on things like pineapple on pizza, you kinda tell yourself "No, this is not a good person for me". But people are just people: they can have a trait that annoys us and we can still love them anyway. You need to learn on what you can compromise out of your values. Be a little more accepting and welcoming. If you don't let your guard down a little, nobody will dare to climb the walls you have buildt around you and will leave. Let's suppose you like someone and you'd like to know them better: would you like to have to do all the work by yourself? Come up with what to ask, where to go, and maybe not get any answer or reaction... it'd feel like they don't care and you're talking to a wall and wasting time, right? I'm sure this behaviour you have picked up originates from a trauma of some kind, so I hope you can find out how to deal with it and heal it, at least a bit. Step by step, slowly but with determination. Be kind with yourself if you fall back into that habit here and there on your path, it's fine. It's not something one stops doing in a day or a couple of months. Give yourself (and others) time. You immediately close off to others the moment you feel "betrayed" cause they say something you don't agree with... give them time to show you who they are for real and don't take it all so personally. It doesn't have to be all about you (not in a bad way, you may feel attacked by random comments/ideas cause you feel unsafe/don't agree and fear being pushed into the person's "dislike"-box. So you dislike them first to avoid that... but that's unnecessary). People do like you, they think very well of you all the times ("you're interesting"); but you need to stop worrying about their judgement and not scare them away cause of your fear of letting them in. Let in also people you may find different from you and may "trigger" you. You don't have to become close friends or have a romantic relationship with them (nor with anyone entering your life even just by chance), you can just have a chat and learn to be more open and accepting of other povs and thoughts (nobody is here to change yours, unless you feel the need to for yourself).

song: bravado | lorde

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card tarot #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a picture #pac tarot #pac reading #divination #clairs readings #psychic readings #free tarot reading #tarot readings #tarotcommunity #intuitive readings #tarot reading #intuitive #intuition

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b1mbodoll · 1 year ago

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Any thoughts with Enhypen hyungline and omorashi?

pairings: en- hyungline x f! reader

warnings: omorashi + degradation + oral + praise + dacryphilia + dumbification + daddy kink + pet names + filming

💌: was gna post dis tmr but i couldnt wait also thank u for this question bcus i have many thoughts on the subject!!!! class is in session so listen up

heeseung

♡ heeseung is definitely into making you wet yourself. he lives for the sweet sounds you make when you make a mess on his cock. his eyes are glued to your pussy, loving the slick sounds of him fucking your wet cunt and the sight of your piss making a mess of his cock and pelvis. praises you nonstop while you ride him, large hands gripping your hips to push and pull you over his cock, “such a good girl f’me, pretty. my good girl, yeah?”

♡ he’s always saying the filthiest things in bed but in such a sweet way, calls you his pretty angelgirl while telling you he’s gonna stuff ur sloppy pussy with his cum til he physically can’t anymore :(

♡ he’s so in love with eating your pussy too it’s literally an addiction. quite literally makes out with your cunt, nose pressing against your clit every now and then as he tries to push you over the limit with just his mouth. heeseung thinks its the hottest thing ever when his mouth fucks you so good it causes you to pee <3 cums in his fucking pants as your release drips down his chin cus he just loves it sm. makes him proud that he’s the only one that’s able to make you do that n likes that you’re kinda claiming him in a way ??

jay

♡ jay’s into omorashi both ways. he likes to take care of you and refill your drink frequently so when you guys are making out he can tease you til ur crying n shaking, piss soaking yours and his clothes as you slump against him from the relief

♡ also enjoys pissing on and inside of you, whether it be your mouth or ur cunt <3 his favorite has to be the latter though, nothing strokes his ego more than when he’s fucking you and you’re begging for him to fill you up, doesn’t matter if it’s his cum or his piss you’re so desperate to reach your climax you just sigh and thank him over n over when he finally empties himself inside, pussy clenching ‘round him n taking everything he has to offer

♡ like heeseung, jay is also a sweet talker however, he can’t help but to degrade you every now and then. likes when you get teary eyed and try to deny the fact that ur his nasty little whore even though you both know he’s right because if you weren’t, you wouldnt be begging for his piss

jake

♡ sweet, sweet jake <3 he’s the perfect blend of sweet n rough. he personally likes to piss on you (he wouldnt mind the other way around if its something u wanted tho he’s whipped) he just thinks it’s so arousing yet romantic that you’re willing to let him do something like this. big fan of praising you as well, he has to let his girl know she’s doin’ such a good job for him

♡ “y’look so cute like this, honey. fuck, wish i could keep you at my feet forever. you’d like that wouldn’t you? wouldn’t ever hafta lift a finger, i’d take care of you, doll. would do anything for you if you’d jus’ let me do this whenever i wanted.” he’s spewing nonsense now but his brain isn’t working and you’re no better, tongue lolling out as the warm stream of his piss splashes against your cheeks ‘nd down onto your tits.

♡ afterwards he bathes with you ‘nd takes care of you as you try to get ur brain back to normal after getting fucked dumb :( dresses you n pulls you close, pressing soft kisses all over ur face while whispering how much you mean to him <3

sunghoon

♡ sunghoon’s def into pissing on you as well, however he has a meaner approach. it starts with him releasing on your chest ‘nd neck but it always ends with his wet cock in your mouth. he takes videos every time he does this ‘nd has plenty of polaroids where you’re looking up at him innocently as if you didn’t just let him fuck his piss down your throat

♡ don’t get me wrong, he’s a great bf !!! hoonie spoils you ‘nd does his best to keep you happy all the time <3 he’s usually such a sweetheart with you but the way he’s able to fuck you like he hates you makes your head spin every time

♡ “you’re such a fucking perv, you know that right? so nasty too. nice little girls wouldn’t be swallowin’ their boyfriend’s piss, fuck!” he curses through clenched teeth, fingers weaving through your hair as he shoves his cock deeper, if that were even possible. you don’t think you’ve ever felt this full in your life and you don’t want it to end, gulping down everything he gives you. too focused on sucking him dry you don’t even realize he’s started snapping photos of how fucked out you look, who knows? maybe he’ll show them to jake, jay ‘nd heeseung if they’re lucky

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kurishiri · 4 months ago

Text

02 . . . happy birthday, alfons! ˗ˏˋ🪞´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: none; alfons is actually pretty soft in this chapter!

In my own way, I thought that it was a plan for a wonderful birthday.

However, such plans would soon be riddled with trouble...

Kate: Wh—!? They’re closed...?

When we arrived at the restaurant I had reserved for lunch, there was a sign that said ‘CLOSE.’

Alfons: ‘The restaurant’s owner contracted a sudden illness,’ so they say here, I see. Well, such cases do arise once in a while.

A: How about we visit another restaurant then? Is there anything in particular you’re craving now?

Kate: In that case, we should eat what you want. You’re the birthday boy, after all!

Alfons: Well then... how does the restaurant over there sound?

The restaurant we entered was empty, and the food was immediately brought out after we put in our orders, but...

(...It doesn’t taste that good.)

(No, rather, I would say the flavor is unsavory...)

Alfons: Pfft... hehe... ahha!

A: Just from your expression... I can read your thoughts like a book right now.

A: Hapless though it may be, it would appear this restaurant’s cuisine doesn’t suit your palate?

Kate: ...Do you like this, Alfons?

Alfons: Positively god-awful, I’d say.

Kate: I feel like I should have seen this coming with how there’s not a single person here, even during the lunch hour.

Alfons: The food is thoroughly cooked, and there doesn’t appear to be any suspicious ingredients in it either, and yet...

A: I can’t help but wonder where this profoundly mysterious flavor has snuck in.

While saying this, Alfons slipped off his gloves, and touched the nape of my neck.

Alfons: The food before your eyes is a delicious cuisine from a renowned restaurant.

(Ah... he used his ability on me.)

Albeit nervously, I once again brought the food to my lips.

Kate: Oh, it is delicious...! Thank you so much, Alfons.

Alfons: It was a little more than child’s play to me, so think not much of it. Come now, let’s eat the rest.

Kate: What about you, though, Alfons? I mean, the food’s flavor...

Alfons: The food at the castle is a plethora of things you’d find in five-star restaurants, so I must admit I’m rather taken by this unique change of pace.

Kate: Is that so...

(This birthday celebration isn’t off to a great start, it seems.)

(But, there is still a whole day ahead of us! The next thing will surely be a blast!)

After lunch, we visited an auction venue.

Alfons: Is there an item you wish to bid for, perchance?

Kate: Actually, the auction isn’t being held today, so there’s a magic show in its place.

Alfons: I see... I’m most eager to see it. An actual successful magic show, unlike the ones we are subjected to see back at the castle.

Kate: Hehe, yeah!

K: ...Ah, the host has come up. It looks like it’s going to start soon.

Host: Uhm, to all gathered here today, we deeply apologize for the inconvenience caused with this sudden notice...

Host: ...but the magician we have invited has caught a sudden illness, and as such, we will be holding a special art auction today.

Kate: Ehh...

Alfons: No matter where we go, it seems the aforementioned ‘sudden illness’ follows suit.

Kate: Yes, I wonder if the cold has been going around recently...

(What should we do? Let’s see, what are places Alfons might enjoy... umm...)

Alfons: ...Since we are here already, how about we go and check out some of the art pieces?

Kate: I don’t mind that, but...

K: I’m sure you’re long used to seeing pieces like this, so would it not be boring?

Since Lord Elbert collects beautiful things,

I’m sure Alfons, too, has laid his eyes on many beautiful things as well, from being by his side.

(So to just be looking at these art pieces the auction has now, it probably wouldn’t be very interesting...)

Alfons: Would it not be a most thrilling experience to watch the audience compete with each other with bloodshot eyes from the outside?

A: And even if that does become boring, I have you to play with.

Kate: ...Alright then. Let’s look at the art pieces.

(Alfons is the one who should be getting his birthday celebrated, and yet it seems he’s always extending his consideration to me today.)

Finally, the sun started to set, inviting the night to come.

(To think everything we’ve done has failed... oh, but there are still two things left to celebrate.)

(Even if it’s just these two things, I definitely can’t let them fail...!)

After we returned to the castle and ate dinner, we went to Alfons’ room.

Kate: Alfons, here is the next present!

I gave the box I prepared to Alfons.

Alfons: Is it alright to open it?

Kate: Go ahead! It is food, so just put it on the table before opening it, so it doesn’t drop.

Though a bit corny, inside was a birthday cake.

(It’s a birthday cake with a cat drawn on it... I hope he’s happy.)

I watched him as Alfons took the cake out from the box.

Alfons: This...!

Kate: How is it?

Alfons: ...Kate. May I ask exactly when we got married?

Kate: Eh...?

Alfons showed the cake my way.

There, written on the cake, was neither a cat nor a happy birthday message, but rather...

Kate: ‘Congratulations on your 50 year wedding anniversary’...!?

The cake had words of congratulations to a wedding, with an illustration of an elderly couple I didn’t recognize drawn on it.

Alfons: It would seem the bakery has mixed our cake up with some elderly couple’s cake?

Kate: No way... I’ll need to contact the shop right away...!

Alfons: It would come as a surprise if the shop was still open at this hour though, I would imagine?

A: However, I doubt the cake will be good by the time morning rolls around, so let’s just eat what we have here.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: I do find it quite unfortunate that I couldn’t eat that treasured cake you had chosen for me...

A: ...but this cake here tasted delicious, too.

Kate: Right...

Alfons: So, Kate? Care to bring out the final present?

Kate: About... that... the cake is the final present. I’m really sorry that everything has been a mess up to the end...

Alfons: Oh, don’t deceive me now. The cake wasn’t supposed to be the last present, yes?

Kate: It’s just that today nothing has been going as planned... so I’m scared that something about the last thing would also go wrong...

Alfons: ...Why, you can blame every happening today on mischance.

A: Not a single thing that happened was your fault.

A: Besides, so what if everything didn’t go as you hoped? It’s the sentiment of wanting to celebrate that matters, no?

Kate: That’s true, but still... I wanted you to have a fun birthday, Alfons.

K: A birthday so fun, it will remain in your memory forever. That kind of birthday.

If it was a birthday fun enough to carve a place in Alfons’ memory, then surely, it would do the same for me.

I wanted us to carve that memory into each other, so that we would never forget this day for eternity.

(But, with all these blunders on his birthday, how could it ever remain in his memory...)

Alfons: A birthday that will remain in my memory... you said?

A: ...If that’s the case, it would be remiss of me not to think today has been going swimmingly as you hoped.

Kate: Eh...?

← prev next →

full masterlist 🪞🍰 ╱ ko-fi ☕ (30% of proceeds will go to doctors without borders for donations $17↑)

#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations

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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months ago

Text

The Light in My Darkness

damon salvatore x gn!reader | requested

summary: after your boyfriend's death, you fell back into old habits. now that he's back, you're having trouble kicking them again.

tags: angst, hurt / comfort, depression, s3lf h4rm, kisses

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i typically don't write for damon, however i feel comfortable writing this subject matter and i'm getting better with understanding his character. honestly, too, i rewatched s7 and i'm starting to love him even more. (i just love the traumatized characters.)

also, i'm not good at titles. my first title had the word 'put' in it, but i stared at it so long, it didn't look like a word anymore and i had to change it. i think i like this one better. i stg, titles are half the reason i take so long to post. whew, anyway... enjoy ❤️

“Stefan needs help at Whitmore,” Damon says hurriedly. He puts his phone in his back pocket and sighs. “Another Enzo situation.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“No, you stay here. I don’t want him anywhere near you, given he’s in one of his moods and would hurt you for no reason.” He gives you a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He speeds out the door a moment later, leaving you alone in the large, empty house. You sigh. Your life is so full of supernatural drama, it’s hard to keep up. Honestly, you’re not even sure what the situation is with Enzo, or why he and Stefan hate each other so much, or how Damon knows what to do to de-escalate their arguments. Of course, Caroline debriefed you on it sometime ago, but with all the craziness happening lately, it pretty much went over your head.

It’s been hard these last few months. Only recently had Damon returned to you from four months after being considered dead, alongside Bonnie, as the other side collapsed with him in it. Those months had been the hardest of your life, and you doubted your ability to make it through them. Losing your best friend and your boyfriend was something you never thought you’d have to endure, yet it happened. Losing them almost killed you, too.

For three years, you were clean. You hadn’t touched a single blade since you and Damon got serious. He gave you a reason to stop without even knowing it, and with a lot of patience with yourself, you managed to kick the addiction. After he died, though, when you couldn’t bear to live without him, you picked it back up. Part of you is pissed for falling back into your old ways, but the other part has convinced yourself it’s what you need to do to survive.

When he came back unexpectedly, you were filled with just as much panic as you were joy. You had him back, but had relapsed majorly, and now have to recount your old steps into being sober again. It hasn’t been easy.

It’s been a couple days since your last time, and while your skin’s no longer bright and swollen, it seems to beg for your attention. You have to plan it carefully, making sure Damon will be gone long enough that he won’t sense the fresh blood. When he grabs your wrists to kiss your face, you don’t want to flinch in slight pain, or let him pick up a chance in your heartbeat.

It’s such a complicated addiction to have when dating a vampire, yet fighting the urges are so hard, sometimes you can’t help but give into them.

The blades in the bathroom are ready for you when you enter. A brand new pack sits in the drawer. The boys won’t miss one or two. The one time Stefan did notice, you blabbered a quick lie about needing one to scrape a bit of food dried to the stovetop. He was in such a rush that day, he didn’t catch any lie, and you were able to smile and flee the scene a moment later. Since then, you make sure to hold onto the one you have until there’s enough to not see one missing.

With everyone seemingly involved in the Enzo situation, you don’t bother to shut the door completely before dragging the blade across your skin. The boarding house is empty, and this bathroom in particular is tucked away nicely behind the stairs. You make a few scattered cuts and watch the blood seep from them. It always seems to calm you in the most grotesque way, and, quite ironically, gives you the perfect dopamine rush that raises your spirits despite the pain. It’s a terrible addiction but with a high reward… until you have to hide the evidence.

That little reminder makes you sigh. Too many scars are hard to hide, and with Damon back, you have to be careful. It would break him to see you this way; that thought alone makes you put down the blade. For a moment longer, you stare at the tricking blood, committing the sight to memory to maybe fend off the next urge. To imagine the blood on your skin may convince yourself it’s there, and maybe you won’t cut the next time you’re so desperate. Maybe.

You reach for a piece of toilet paper to dab the wounds. The bleeding needs to stop before you crave another scare. It’s so tempting, but-

“Hey,” Damon appears suddenly, peeking through the door. His eyes are narrowed, as if sensing something’s wrong. “What are you doing?”

You turn to face him and hold your hands around your back quickly. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” He opens the door a little wider, seeing the reflection of your hidden hands in the mirror. “Let me see your arms.”

“I’m okay.” Nervously, you pull down your sleeves to hide your wounds as much as possible. Your eyes meet the floor, unable to lie if you look into his blues.

“No, you’re not.” He argues, anxious to see your face; to not let you shy away and avoid his gaze. His approach makes your heart race, confirming his worst fears. “Let me see.”

“I thought you were leaving. I thought Stefan needed you.”

“He does, but he can wait.”

“But-”

“You’re my first priority. I can tell something’s up. Please,” he brushes a hair away from your face, “let me in.”

“Damon, I’m fine.”

“You’re hurting, and I can smell the blood, and I’m really trying hard not to freak out right now.”

You huff at the realization that he could smell it. You should’ve waited for him to be gone longer before breaking your skin. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Just promise me.” Tears well in your eyes, but you let them fall, unwilling to take your hands off your sleeves.

“Y/N, I promise. I could never be mad. Just let me see it.”

Slowly, you release your sleeves, but leave the task of rolling them up to him. You can’t bear to do it yourself. Damon takes one hand gently and pulls the sleeve back. Upon seeing the numerous cuts, he pulls the other back with a little more vigor, but is still careful not to hurt you. He stares, unable to speak or move, as his heart breaks with every passing second.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. His eyes meet yours and you finally break down into tears.

Without a moment of hesitation, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms protectively around your body. You feel safe in his arms, you always do. Damon has a way about him that always makes you feel safe, no matter what anyone else thinks of him. He’s loyal and understanding, and that is part of the reason you feel so horrible for not telling him this.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, now sobbing into his chest.

Your heart beats and reminds him that you are alive. The cuts made into your skin weren’t deep enough to take you. The pain you have been feeling hasn’t swallowed you whole. He concentrates on your breathing, and your crying, and uses it to anchor himself before asking the thousands of questions flooding his mind.

He pulls away, finally, and wipes your tears with his thumbs. His hands grip your shoulders with a gentle desperation, as if he’s afraid you could dissipate at any moment.

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”

Your heart feels heavy as you reply, “honestly, no.”

“Why not tell me, Y/N? You know I love you. If you’re hurting, I want to be there for you.”

“I know… I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you? Some part of me was embarrassed about it, and I didn’t want you to see me differently because of it. I don’t know.”

“Baby, there’s nothing you could do that’d ever make me love you less. Nothing that would ever make me feel a different way, or see you in another light.”

“I know. I know my feelings are totally irrational, I just… they’re fears.”

“I understand.” He kisses your forehead, then releases your shoulders to hold your hands and kiss them, too. “Hey, can you promise me something?”

“I can try.”

“Come to me the next time you’re feeling like you want to hurt yourself, okay? Let me help you through it.”

“But-”

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on, or who’s texting, I will drop anything and put you first. But you gotta let me in when you need it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now,” he pauses, biting into his arm and holding it out for you to drink. His other hand meets the back of your head, stabilizing your neck to keep you comfortable.

To his dismay, you refuse. You try to pull away, but his other hand prevents that, so you look down instead. “I can’t.”

“Y/N…”

“The scars are a reminder that I bleed. As soon as they fade away, the urge returns, but if they’re there for a little while, the urge is less strong. They’re kind of a comfort, I think. A reminder.”

“So you don’t want me to heal them?”

“I’d rather not. They don’t bother me too much. Do they bother you?”

You can see the hesitation in his eyes. He fights with himself, knowing the sight is a reminder of your pain, but understands their existence helps you heal. After a moment, he shakes his head. “No, baby, I only care that you’re safe.” He kisses them one more time. “Have you eaten much today?”

“Not really.”

“Well… do you mind if I make you something, even if it’s just something small, and then we can sit together on the couch? We’ll take today slow.”

“Okay. Wait, but what about Stefan?”

“Caroline can handle it. Then he’ll be in her debt and she’ll be happy about it,” he jokes.

You smile, appreciating his humor despite the somber mood hanging above both your heads. He’s the light in dark times, the much needed laugh that breaks the awkward silence. It’s part of the reason you fell for him so quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. And thank you.”

He pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then reaches for your hand. “Of course.”

#damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x gn!reader #tvd fanfiction #tw: s3lf h4rm #tw: sh #damon salvatore fluff #hurt/comfort

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 year ago

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Thats How You Know - Leona

Author Notes: This fic is actually for the @briarvalleyarchives "Anthems of Old" event. It was inspired by its namesake song, "That's How You Know" from the Disney film Enchanted. It's surprisingly nerve-wracking to be posting a fic for an event, but I had fun writing thing and had to curb the urge to not just rip of the scene from the film. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy.

Type: Fluff/ romantic/ gender-neutral reader/ sfw

Word Count: 1782

“You know he likes you, right?” Ruggie had leaned over to look you in the eye better as he voiced his question, but you looked away as soon as his words registered.

His question drew a sigh from your lips that didn’t quite match the odd smile on your face as you kept your silence. You weren’t quite able to answer his question, even as Ruggie frowned at your silence.

The truth was that, in a lot of ways, you felt like Leona did like you just as much as you liked him. But he never really did anything to show it if he did, which left you with questions.

How could you really know if he did like, much less love, you?

Despite what others said, you weren’t certain. You knew you liked him. After all, you’d taken to picking up on his interests, worries, and other such little tidbits that made up the individual that was Leona. They’d affected you, becoming interests and worries of your own.

What had started out as curiosity and wanting to get to know him better had swelled from there. You’d fallen in love with Leona. And while you knew that Leona didn’t hate you, the matter of romantic interest was….. Well, it was a whole other can of worms that you weren’t nearly as confident about.

Or at least you weren’t until recently.

It had started out simply enough, with a small note being left on your desk on top of a stack of books. The note itself was pinned in an elegant but largely unfamiliar hand and mentioned the upcoming practical magic test.

Something you knew you were going to flunk, what with your lack of ability to practice magic.

But after just a little bit of studying, it became clear that maybe you had a better chance of passing than you had thought.

The books in the mysterious stack handled the subject well, showing intensive instructions for how to draw an appropriate magic circle that would help you pass the test without having to actually use magic.

That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though. What caught your attention was the signature on the reverse side of the note, which you hadn’t found until you’d given it a closer inspection.

Elegant and small-lettered, the signature was barely noticeable but easily capable of causing a smile to appear on your face.

Leona Kingscholar.

You’d known he’d helped Ruggie get caught up with the rest of the school in terms of tutoring and having uniforms when he’d first come to NRC, but you’d never expected him to help you.

Perhaps he did care a bit more for your concerns and troubles than you’d thought….

You’d thanked the Savannaclaw housewarden after you’d passed the test, but he’d brushed off your gratitude with an almost trained ease.

“You help Jack out with his work, so if I give you stuff, I don’t have to tutor him myself,” A lazy smirk had spread across his features. He’d looked over his shoulder at you as he’d walked off, throwing a final comment back at you, “Less work for me that way.”

His words had caused you to frown slightly, but you shrugged them off. He wasn’t wrong after all. You and the other first-years often studied together to help each other with your problem subjects. If you could teach Jack things, then Leona wouldn't have to worry about it. Though you were pretty sure he’d never bothered with that in the past either.

But what followed the next day had you forgetting your previously dismissive thoughts.

You and Grim both stared down at the bright yellow flowers that greeted you from your doorstep. At odds with the otherwise dreary day, they smiled brightly up at you from the discolored wood of your porch. They were one of your favorite flowers from the ones you’d seen since coming to this world, simply due to how happy they looked.

You frowned at the blooms even as you knelt to collect them. They were tied with a rough cord, an oddly rugged touch to such a sweet sentiment.

You fingered the cord slightly before taking them inside to plop in a glass of water before heading off to the botanical garden for Potionology class.

Except when you at last reached the botanical garden, you froze. Staring at the familiar yellow flowers that greeted you, yet again, with smiling faces from alongside jaggedly cut stems that had no doubt been where your little bouquet had once resided.

It could have been a coincidence that Leona spent large amounts of time in the botanical garden where these pretty little flowers, that perfectly matched the color of yellow he wore on his dorm uniform, grew.

It was a color that was slowly becoming one of your favorites as the days wore on and was possibly one of the reasons you did like these flowers so much

Either way, the oddness of it all was enough to make you wonder and smile to yourself at the possibilities.

You were still smiling as you were chopping the potion ingredients and you almost missed the grin Ace was wearing when he leaned over closer, “So, anything interesting today?”

You frowned, immediately suspicious since you knew good and well that Ace didn’t bring those flowers when he’d just claimed they aggravated his allergies mere seconds ago.

His question, though, was incredibly fishy considering that getting a bouquet of flowers from an unknown sender was definitely an interesting start to your day.

“I got some flowers this morning…. Some of those yellow ones you said you were allergic to,” You eyed him skeptically, but he merely snorted.

“Ooh, got an admirer, have we, Prefect?” He bounced his eyebrows at you before laughing at your eye roll and continuing on.

“My day had a weird start too. First thing this morning, Deuce informed me that Jack apparently overheard Ruggie telling Leona that you couldn’t read minds.”

The redhead’s grin was sly now as he shouldered you playfully, “Weird, huh? Would’ve thought everyone knew that. After all, if you could read minds, you wouldn’t have needed those books to help you with the practical magic test, right?”

You blinked in surprise at the redhead, ignoring the teasing tone he used in favor of thinking about this new information.

The rest of class went by in a blur until Ruggie came trotting over, an exasperated expression on his face, “Y/n, hun, help a guy out?”

You sighed almost immediately at his wheedling tone but found yourself turning to face him anyway, “What is it, Ruggie?”

You were fully prepared for some sort of grand tale about how he had too many jobs and needed help running something to a class or that he’d found some sort of new couple deal and wanted to go on a fake date in the name of sales.

But it was none of those things. Instead, you were met with a sandwich being shoved into your hands, “Give this to Leona for me. I haven’t got the time, and he’s miffed with me anyway. You’re a real pal, bye!”

He was skittering away, waving with his signature snicker, before you even had a chance to object. You glanced Ace’s way only to be met with a rapid head shake, “Oh no, he gave that to you. You’re on your own, Prefect.”

The redhead backed away like you were carrying a bomb and quickly abandoned you to your newfound work. You rolled your eyes at both of the men’s dramatics but turned on your heel, striding towards where Leona always napped with a sandwich in hand. You had some questions you wanted to ask him anyway.

You stepped into the clearing to see him sitting there with some food already in front of him, causing you to frown at the sandwich in your hand.

He looked up at you with his tail flicking in an oddly energetic fashion behind him. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest bit. In fact, he almost seemed amused by your confusion.

“About time you got here. I’d almost begun to suspect that Ruggie had somehow missed you,” His words were delivered with the customary smirk, and all of the various pieces snapped into place.

“So, the flowers were from you?” You grinned slightly as you sat down across from him and started unwrapping the sandwich in your hand, only to find that, rather than his preferred variety, it was your favorite kind of the sandwiches offered by the cafeteria’s deli. A rare luxury that you couldn’t usually afford.

Leona looked down at the food in front of him and, instead of answering your question, posed one of his own, “So, have you got an answer for Ruggie’s question yet?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his nonchalant question, and your mind went racing back to just a couple of days ago, when Ruggie had been questioning if you knew how Leona felt about you. “You heard him?”

Leona grinned outright at your shock, “Oh yeah, I heard the whole conversation.” He looked up at you, ears twitching almost pointedly as he leaned back. Totally relaxed despite your own embarrassment.

“You ought to pay better attention to your surroundings. Herbivores like you have to be careful if you don’t want someone catching you off guard.”

He was so smug, but you found yourself recovering from being flustered as a thought registered, “But that’s how you came to know how I felt. Right?”

He snorted before leaning forward, entering your personal space with a single easy motion that had your previous confidence failing you, “I already knew. You’d already proved that plenty of times.”

Mercifully, he leaned back, “So, have you got your answer?”

You found yourself smiling slightly at his question this time despite how pleased he seemed with himself.

Because of course you had your answer. After he’d done so much to prove that he did care and that he paid special attention to you, how could you not?

He’d known that you’d needed help on a test, that you liked those flowers in that specific color, and that you liked this sandwich. They were all little things, but those little things made up who you were. And he’d taken the time to do all of those things just to show you that he did care and did like you because he’d overheard Ruggie’s question and correctly interpreted your own concerns even though you hadn’t voiced them.

Paying attention to little things like that and taking the time to reassure you…. That's how you know that someone loves you.

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kidstemplatte · 11 months ago

Text

random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

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ginnsbaker · 1 year ago

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (9/22)

Chapter summary: Several weeks later, an unfortunate situation drives Wanda to seek you out, only to be met with someone she least expects.

Chapter word count: 9k

Pairing: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader (heavy in this chapter)

Author's note: And we start the second phase :)

Next chapter: Ten

AO3 | Masterlist

Nine

Five Weeks Later

“By the power invested in me, by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The minister reads from his pamphlet without as much as a glance to the enamored audience.

Wanda hadn’t known that she was going to attend a wedding near the start of autumn; if she had, she’d have been more than ready with an ensemble that’s appropriate for both the event and the cold season. To be fair, Pietro hadn’t known either. Just a week ago, Shannon surprised him with a date, a venue, and a business card of some designer that she commissioned to provide Pietro’s suit for the ceremony. Wanda might have considered it a trap if it hadn't been for the fact that Pietro was the one on his knees with a ring a year ago. Shannon had simply grown tired of his excuses and took matters into her own hands. Wanda still thinks it’s a colossal mistake but his history with women and commitments tracks. She just wants to know how many more of these she’ll have to attend for the rest of her life.

“You may kiss the–”

The minister is cut off by Pietro diving in for a sloppy kiss, and the small crowd of thirty people cheer the newly weds. Wanda claps for the sake of being a good attendant. She almost feels sorry for Shannon, but if she wanted this, she probably wanted it for the wrong reasons.

And, well, karma is a bitch.

Having been sober for exactly thirty-two days, Wanda’s been nursing the same mocktail she’s had before the start of the program, and she finds it difficult to enjoy anything that’s watered-down. A longing to light a cigarette tugs at her, but the establishment's strict no-smoking policy extends even to the outdoor gardens. Pietro asked that she stays until the party’s over, and knowing how much her presence means to him, she reluctantly agreed.

“Stop brooding at my wedding, for god’s sake.”

It’s Shannon, dressed in her second gown, a simpler one that makes it hard to tell her apart from her bridesmaids.

"Hi, Shannon," Wanda drawls, swirling the tiny ice left in her rocks glass.

"It's Mrs. Maximoff now," Shannon mutters proudly, displaying both her wedding and engagement rings.

Wanda hides her grimace behind her drink. “Try not to get used to it though. I’m pretty sure you’re aware that there had been two other Mrs. Maximoffs in his past.”

“Don’t sass me on my wedding day, it’s just disrespectful.”

“Point taken. I’d offer to get you a drink, but I think that’s just gonna push the stick further up your ass.”

Shannon sourly responds with one of her signature fake smiles, but Wanda can see through the facade. She takes pride in having hit a nerve.

Taking the seat next to her, much to Wanda's dismay, Shannon changes the subject. "Anyway, your ex-wife is doing exceptionally well at our company. She's managed to turn around all the bad practices that have been going on for ages."

Wanda’s brows stitch together in confusion. “Your company?”

“Stark Industries.” Shannon says, taking a sip of Wanda’s untouched water.

The revelations throw her off. You didn't appear too thrilled when Wanda saw you right after your interview, so she had assumed you either didn’t get the position or you passed up on the opportunity. But what surprised her even more was discovering that someone like Shannon held a high-ranking position at a popular tech company–which now explains where the extreme confidence comes from.

Shannon smirks. “Don’t look so surprised that I work for the number one company in the world.”

“Number one?” Wanda scoffs, rubbing her nose with her middle finger. “Hardly. And why are you keeping tabs on her?”

“She works in my department and I interviewed her. She was a disaster, by the way,” Shannon says. “But her references were solid. I mean, Scott Lang? I hired her solely by his recommendation.”

Wanda can't help but smile at the mention of Scott, reminiscent of the old days when she used to host dinners for your boss and your co-workers. She doesn’t, however, dwell this time about the people you’ve brought with you when you walked out of her life. The reality is, people take sides, and rightfully, they have chosen yours.

"I'm happy for her. She's brilliant and hardworking. You won't regret having her on your team," Wanda says softly, her voice a little bittersweet; she remembers a time when she used to be the first one to know every little thing about you, and it's a feeling she misses.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re hearing this just now?” Shannon smacks her lips together and then fixes her lipstick that has stained the rim of her drink. “I thought I saw you at our lobby right after her interview.” Shannon gives her a knowing look, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and malice. It's as if she's perfectly aware of the unspeakable things you did to Wanda that day.

"Y-You did?" Wanda stammers, her blood rushing to her face.

“I assumed you were seeing each other again. You looked like a lost little housewife in your little jeans and little shirt.”

“I stopped by to bring her food. I didn’t know I had to dress up for that.”

“How sweet,” Shannon says, though her tone is barely mocking. “Well, if you’re not back together, then I have a piece of information you might find useful.”

Wanda leans back on her chair and crosses her arms in front of her. “And what makes you think I’m interested?”

“Because despite my wrong assumptions earlier, it’s clear that you’re still head over heels in love with her,” Shannon says. “Or am I wrong?”

Wanda looks away and takes a sip of her watered-down mocktail and tries to hide the displeasure on her face.

Shannon takes this as her cue to continue. “She recently changed her address in our database. I know because those things usually undergo my approval.”

You moved out? Wanda hadn't attempted to contact you, but while running errands for her cafe, she had found herself in your area a couple of times. Each time, she observed that your curtains were drawn and the lights in the living room were always turned off.

Wanda looks on quietly as Shannon reaches into her purse, retrieves an eye pencil, and grabs a napkin from the table. With deliberate movements, she begins to scribble on the napkin.

“Here,” Shannon hands Wanda the napkin with your address scrawled neatly on it. “You’re welcome.”

Wanda hesitantly accepts it, and then asks, “Why are you doing this?”

"Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic," Shannon shrugs, though the glint in her eye betrays her nonchalant demeanor. It almost penetrates Wanda’s defenses, but then she says, “Or I’m supporting your unhealthy obsession knowing it won’t lead anywhere.”

Wanda finds herself laughing. Unlike Pietro, Shannon had never treated Wanda delicately, even after her hospitalization. She finds it oddly refreshing and, in a peculiar way, endearing.

Shannon adopts a small, awkward smile herself.

“Fair enough.” Wanda says, folding the napkin carefully before putting it inside her bag.

Shannon gets up and runs her palms over the creases on her gown. “Good luck, Wanda. I’m sure you’ll be needing a lot of it.”

Pietro finds her in the gardens, rubbing her arms to keep herself warm. The nighttime breeze isn’t particularly chilly, but Wanda’s always been susceptible to the cold regardless of the season. He looks particularly dashing in the dark blue suit that Shannon picked for him; and with his hair back to its natural brunette color, the similarities between them have become uncanny once again.

“Sorry about that.” Pietro mutters as he approaches.

Wanda tilts her head at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Sorry about what?" she quips, her voice laced with humor. "You mean this wedding?"

Pietro laughs and then shakes his head. “I saw you talking to Shannon and I could tell you weren’t having the best time.”

Wanda doesn't hold back as she speaks her mind. "She's still a bitch," she says bluntly, not mincing her words. "No offense."

“Do I hear fondness in the way you said ‘bitch’?”

“Not a chance.”

“Between me and her, you forget I’m actually the asshole, right? I know she told you I cheated on her countless times.” Pietro says, somewhat seriously.

“You are,” Wanda says. “But I stand by what I said.”

Pietro sighs. “Anyway, I’m not here to negotiate how you feel towards my wife. I’m here to say goodbye.”

Wanda sobers at that. She’s been so used to having her brother in the same city, a call and a cab away.

“You’re returning to LA?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Pietro confirms with a nod.

“Doesn’t she work at Stark Industries?”

“Oh, did I tell you that?”

“She told me a while ago.” Wanda says.

“She can work remotely,” Pietro explains. “And she prefers doing that from our home in LA.”

The wind begins to pick up, its gentle breeze evolving into a stronger gust. The air becomes alive, stirring the surroundings and causing leaves to dance and swirl in a mesmerizing display.

Wanda sweeps her hair back from her face, and asks, “Tell me, honestly, why did you stay here for so long? Even before the–” Wanda finds herself having difficulty naming the accident she had more than a month ago.

But if there’s something she’s learned from therapy so far, it’s that confronting her inner demons requires acknowledging their existence.

“Before my overdose.” Wanda finishes, managing to keep her tone even.

Pietro regards her with a tender look that conveys his immense pride in her recent growth and progress.

“At first, I just wanted to check in on you,” he says, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit. “And when I saw you and the cafe, I thought ‘see, she doesn’t need you’. But at the same time I also realized it was me–I needed you.”

Pietro pauses and rubs the back of his neck–something he does a lot when he’s trying not to be emotional.

"I missed you, Wands. These past few months, I've felt more like myself than I have in years. I know I'm free to visit you anytime, even when you and Y/N were still together, but it's just not the same when–"

“–when it’s just us.” Wanda finishes for him, her voice thick with emotions that her brother is trying so hard to hold at bay.

“Yeah. I had a really great time with you here, it was good to be home after so many years.”

“LA is your home.” Wanda reminds him.

"You're my family, Wands," Pietro says, wrapping an arm around her and giving her a warm side hug. "You're my home too."

“I love you, Piet.”

“I love you too, sis,” Pietro says. “I’m rooting for you–your happiness. Whether it’s with Y/N or someone else or no one. You deserve to be happy. You have a big heart–I know this because you love me just as I am.”

“Then why don’t you just stay here so we can be close to each other all the time?” Wanda sniffs. So many losses. So many changes. Wanda craves normalcy and consistency–things you used to provide in her life with your steady presence.

“Shannon’s family lives in LA, and we’ve already talked about settling there once we’re married.”

Wanda shakes her head, smiling in contempt.

Pietro notices the change in her demeanor and starts rubbing her arm in comfort. “Don’t blame Shannon for this. I suggested it because she’s more comfortable living there if we’re going to start a family.”

“You’re already talking about babies? Piet, that’s a huge step.” she says.

Pietro falls into a thoughtful silence, weighing the decision of whether to share the news with Wanda now or wait a little longer. However, the anticipation and joy of becoming a father soon overpowers his doubts.

With a burst of excitement, he finally speaks up. "Actually, she's pregnant."

"Wow," Wanda exclaims, embracing him tightly, more than thrilled at the news. But as suspicion creeps in, she pulls away abruptly. "Hold on, is that why you rushed into marriage? Because she's pregnant?"

“No. She actually just told me last night, as a wedding gift.” Pietro says.

“I’m going to be an aunt?” Wanda giggles. “I mean, congratulations! You’re going to be a dad!”

"Thank you, Wands," Pietro says, returning the hug.

Wanda pauses for a moment, a realization dawning on her. "I should stop being mean to her," she admits.

Pietro chuckles. "My advice is to take everything she says or does with a grain of salt."

Wanda's expression softens. "I'm going to miss you, you know? Your future kid, and, fuck it–even Shannon. I'll try to visit this Christmas, okay?"

"You better. I already got you plane tickets."

“Oh, and Piet?”

“Yep?”

“I’ll cut your balls off if you cheat on your wife again this time. Not because she’s having your child, but because it’s… not normal. It’s fucked up. We’re fucked up. The stakes are higher for you now, but even if it wasn’t, it just ruins everything in its wake. it's the biggest regret of my life," Wanda states firmly. Although she feels like a hypocrite as the words escape her lips, she feels compelled to express her feelings in the hope that it carries some weight.

“I know,” Pietro says, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been seeing a professional for two months now.”

“You are?”

Pietro smiles and takes Wanda’s hand, leading her back inside the reception. “Where do you think I got your therapist from?”

***

"You've really nailed it with this restaurant choice," Natasha exclaims at you, her fork stabbing into the juicy medium-rare steak. Her mouth waters as the meat releases its flavorful juices. She’s sitting to your left and Yelena’s right, and when you haven’t developed a psychic link with your partner yet, navigating a delicate situation feels like a sailor and a pilot has come together to figure out how a tractor works.

Natasha had phoned you earlier today, informing you that her flight from Washington D.C. was scheduled to depart in a mere two hours. This left you with approximately three hours to prepare for her arrival, as well as to have a conversation with Yelena on how you’re both going to break the news to her unsuspecting sister. However, due to Yelena's demanding work schedule, it was difficult to abruptly pull her away from her assignment and so you took it upon yourself to organize this impromptu dinner.

Your girlfriend, in a state of panic, had only just read your texts an hour ago and arrived late. Since then, there has been absolutely zero opportunity to discuss what your relationship entails for Natasha.

Delaying the inevitable, you focus on other topics.

“So, how was your flight?” you ask Natasha.

“Quick.”

“When did you find out you’re coming home?” you inquire, eyebrows wiggling at Yelena, attempting to seek her support in engaging in the conversation

“The other day.” Natasha says.

“How do you like your steak?”

Natasha gives you a funny look.

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you try to think of more questions to ask, but Yelena beats you to it.

“We’ve been seeing each other.” she announces over her plate of untouched meatballs.

Your eyes widen in alarm as you look at Yelena, but she nonchalantly shrugs at you, then whispers, "I thought that's what you were trying to tell me with your eyes."

Natasha serenely savors her steak, taking a graceful sip of wine before responding, "Yes, I'm aware."

Surprised, you murmur, "How did you...?"

With a hint of amusement, Natasha replies, "If I were to reveal my skills, I would be violating at least ten pages of a non-disclosure agreement."

"Right," Yelena huffs, a feeling of ease finally settling over her. She indulges in her own plate, eagerly digging in and savoring each bite.

“You know,” You start, shoulders dropping and feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I thought I’m used to what you do, but it’s still weird that you disappear for several weeks and then you come back like,” you snap your fingers. “And we can’t ask you questions.”

“It’s why I love my job so much. People are literally not allowed to ask questions,” Natasha says with a satisfied smirk, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “But I can. So, how did this happen?” she says, motioning between you and Yelena with her finger.

“Didn’t you already know?” you say with a teasing smile.

Natasha fixes you with a piercing gaze, the kind she typically reserves for her job, making you retreat but not before a nervous gulp catches in your throat.

"Yelena?" she prompts, noticing the uncharacteristic silence.

“I, uh–”

"Hotdog sandwich," you blurt out abruptly, interrupting Yelena's non-existent train of thought, while your mind drifts back to the night when you and Yelena officially started dating. Two pairs of eyes fixate on you, their faces a mix of surprise and bewilderment, as if questioning your sanity. Realizing the awkwardness of your outburst, you quickly clear your throat and gather yourself to continue, "I asked her out one night, shortly after I started my new job, and we kind of just decided to give it a shot while eating a hotdog."

When you look up, Yelena’s eyes carry a fondness, effectively deepening the blush on your cheeks.

“That’s a nice story, Y/N, but I didn’t mean literally. More like… how did you arrive at the decision to be together?” Natasha says, her gaze on you unwavering. You avoid her eyes, suddenly determined to finish the remaining vegetables in your dish.

“It came to us organically, Nat. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding a bit cheesy.” Yelena says.

“I don’t mind cheesy. Cheesy is good. Love is often cheesy, right?” Natasha says, her gaze directed at you. The mention of the word 'love' catches you off guard, and you almost choke on your peas. Although you feel it deep in your heart that you love Yelena, neither of you have actually said those words to each other.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "Okay, then. It happened because we still have deep feelings for each other, and we felt it was necessary to give it a chance."

You smile, fully understanding and appreciating Yelena's sentiment. "I agree."

“Can I speak to Y/N in private?” She tells Yelena, who just shrugs, and then turning to you, Natasha says, “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” you reply, rising from your seat.

You and Natasha emerge from the cozy Italian restaurant, deciding to take a leisurely walk through the neighborhood. The rain has just subsided, leaving behind glistening streets and puddles that dot the pavement, making each step a bit precarious. The dampness in the air seems to mirror the tension in your chest, and you can't shake off the feeling that this walk holds more weight than just enjoying the post-rain atmosphere. The droplets on the ground reflect the streetlights, creating a mesmerizing shimmer that momentarily distracts you from your unease.

Yet, as you walk alongside Natasha, the silence between you only heightens your anticipation for the impending "sister talk."

You value your friendship with Natasha deeply, and the prospect of jeopardizing that bond fills you with uncertainty.

Just as your pulse falls into a steadier rhythm, Natasha breaks the silence, her voice filled with a sense of pride. "I'm proud of you," she declares. "Honestly, I half-expected to return and find you still unemployed, living in my apartment. But look at you now: a new job, a new place... and a new girlfriend," she adds, without a trace of animosity in her words.

“I was the crutch you had to get rid of after all.” Natasha says.

You laugh nervously at the ‘girlfriend’ remark, appreciating the genuine support from your best friend. "I suppose I relied on you heavily after my divorce," you admit. "It was easy to succumb to self-pity and a meaningless routine because you were there to take care of me. Eventually, I knew I was rotting away no matter how indulgent these Netflix shows are,” you laugh a little. “And well, things simply worked out, you know?”

“Yeah, I can see that it worked out pretty well with my sister.” Natasha quips.

"I care about her, Nat. I always have." you say, coming to a stop to face Natasha and properly look her in the eye.

Natasha nods and takes hold of your elbow, urging you to continue walking. "I know," she acknowledges, a knowing smile touching the corners of her lips. "She may not have shown it earlier, but she’s giddy as fuck. Kind of grosses me out seeing her eyeing you like a piece of candy.”

“But kidding aside, you have my blessing.” Natasha says, and you give her a soft smile in return.

A slight pang of guilt tugs at your heart as you decide not to mention your encounters with Wanda. You understand why Natasha requested this private conversation, and you don't wish to complicate matters by bringing up the brief rupture caused by your connection with Wanda. You and Yelena had reached a mutual understanding regarding Wanda, recognizing that your current relationship should not be overshadowed by your past with your ex-wife.

Besides, you haven’t talked to Wanda since you and Yelena entered into a relationship. Things have been going well; consequently, you see no justifiable reason to stir up any unnecessary complications or rock the boat.

But nobody reads you the way Natasha does, as she brings up the person you’ve been trying to forget all this time.

“And Wanda? Is that over?”

Lying to Natasha is akin to attempting to deceive a lie detector machine; there’s just no way out of it but the truth–or at least some of it.

“We were briefly in touch,” you admit, carefully filtering the story in your mind as you speak. "Coincidentally, she happened to be at the same club where Clint organized your going-away party."

Natasha raises an eyebrow; you read her well enough too, and it tells you that she hadn’t had an inkling that Wanda had reentered your life at one point.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asks, the level of her tone masking how she feels about that new information.

“Because you hate her?” You say, daring her to deny it but Natasha only rolls her eyes. “And, uh, I don’t know… Maybe because I knew you’d be disappointed?”

Natasha takes a deep breath, the crisp evening air filling her lungs as she gathers her thoughts. "Did I," she begins, "did I push you into making choices in the past that you weren't entirely comfortable with?"

"Why would you say that?" you inquire, puzzled by Natasha's question.

Natasha's gaze softens, and she replies with earnest sincerity, "Because I never wanted you to feel like you couldn't be completely open with me about anything. I never wanted you to fear my judgment regarding your decisions."

You wonder if Natasha would say the same thing if she knew you had fallen into Wanda’s bed post-divorce. You think about how Natasha urged you to file for it in the first place, how she helped in preparing everything from finding a suitable lawyer to ironing out the details of the agreement. Despite your emotional state during that period, you acknowledge that you made those decisions and chose to take responsibility for them.

“You’re like family to me, Nat. Of course your opinion of me will always matter.” you say.

“I’m happy you stood by your decision without me,” Natasha says. “I was worried you’d go back to her as soon as I was gone.”

A nervous smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flit to anywhere but your best friend; the weight of deliberately concealing a significant portion of the story makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Now more than ever, you regret being with Wanda that way. It had every potential to jeopardize your friendship with Natasha.

“How about you and Bruce?” you say, taking the spotlight away from yourself.

Natasha’s smile is sad as she shakes her head. “That ship has sailed. For good.”

“I’m sorry.” you say.

“Don’t be. He can finally allow himself to be happy. He’s a good man. He deserves more than I can give him.”

“What about you?”

“I’d like to believe I deserve more than he’s willing to give,” Natasha says, her voice not harboring any resentment; but it’s clear that she has accepted the fact that their desires and needs diverged, leading them down separate paths.

“Are you happy?” you ask suddenly, widely curious.

Natasha takes a moment to reflect, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "As happy as I can be," she contemplates. "I've learned that life shouldn't solely revolve around falling in love, you know? I have my work, my sister, my friends, and well, you're not that bad either," she adds with a light-hearted chuckle.

Turning the last corner back to the restaurant, you both bump into Yelena who’s wearing a frown after being left for so long.

“You were both gone for a while already so I thought I’d settle the bill and join you guys for a walk.” Yelena says. “You guys are okay, right?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” you say, taking her hand and interlacing your fingers together.

Natasha ignores Yelena’s question and says, “How much do I owe you for the food?”

Yelena pushes the receipt in her sister’s hand and says, “Everything.”

Settling beside Yelena on the bed, you reach for the lamp on your nightstand and switch it off. The room is cast in a soft, bluish glow, as the moon's radiance filters through the blinds. It hasn’t been too long since you and Yelena started sharing this room, and despite initially intending to take things slow, the pace of your relationship accelerated naturally. With busy careers, it felt right to embrace the opportunity to spend more time together without the added complexities of planning and scheduling dates.

“It was weird introducing you to Nat as my girlfriend,” Yelena says, turning on her side to face you as soon as your head hits the pillow.

"I think you handled that quite smoothly," you say with a quiet chortle, the sarcasm failing to come across as strongly as intended.

"You were absolutely perfect though," Yelena whispers, her hand gently cupping your cheek as she pulls you in for a kiss. It begins with a slow, tentative pace, reminiscent of the other kisses you have shared since becoming a couple.

Tonight, however, there's an undeniable intensity in Yelena's kisses that sends a fiery sensation rippling through your body. Her touch, tracing the skin below your belly button, ignites a rush of heat that intertwines with the passion of the moment. With your hands threaded in her hair, you boldly deepen the kiss, your tongue exploring the depths of her mouth, eliciting a surprised moan that you eagerly swallow.

As Yelena's fingers venture past the waistband of your underwear, a sudden jolt of surprise shoots through your body, causing you to abruptly sit upright. In the process, Yelena loses her balance and falls back onto the bed.

“Y/N?”

"Sorry," you stammer, attempting to calm your nerves and the racing of your heart. "I just remembered I have an important work email I haven't sent yet and..."

Yelena nods understandingly. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I've got some editing to do anyway."

You offer a grateful smile and lean in to press a tender kiss on her forehead. Then, you trail another moist kiss just below her ear, eliciting a soft sigh from Yelena's lips.

“I’ll wait up, okay? Hurry,” Yelena purrs against your neck.

“I’ll be back.” you say.

At half past midnight, you return to a snoring Yelena, her arm sprawled over the empty spot where you’re supposed to be. It was one email and you got carried away. And even if Yelena’s awake, you’re too exhausted to continue earlier’s steamy exchange.

Carefully, you remove her arm from your side of the bed and mold yourself to Yelena’s sleeping form.

You haven’t had sex with her yet. The desire is there–a hot burning coal of it–and you have entertained the thought numerous times, but each time the moment draws near, you find yourself hesitant and not quite ready to take that step. It's a decision you have consciously made, respecting your own boundaries and wanting to ensure that the timing feels right for both of you.

Kissing the back of Yelena's head, you savor the softness of her hair against your lips. With a contented sigh, you nuzzle your nose into her locks, finding comfort in her presence as sleep gradually envelops you.

***

“Ms. Maximoff? Over here.”

Wanda looks up to find Sparky’s doctor motioning for her to come inside the check-up room. She gets up and hurries to where Sparky has disappeared into for almost twenty minutes now, and sees him hooked up to an IV, dozing off on his side.

“Is he going to be okay?” Wanda asks immediately.

“The results of Sparky’s blood test don't look good. His liver is significantly higher than the normal range, and that could be the cause of his recent vomiting. For now, we’ll keep him confined here for one or two more days, depending on his condition, and if he’s responding to medication, you can continue giving them at home.”

“And what if he doesn’t respond to his medication?”

“We will conduct further tests to see what’s going on there. Surgery could be an option, depending on the outcome. While liver diseases in dogs can be treated and managed, there is always the possibility of expiration, I’m afraid.”

Expiration. Dogs have significantly shorter lives; Wanda knows this. But hearing it spoken so soon directly shatters Wanda’s heart. “W-What could have caused this?” she asks.

This is her fault, Wanda makes the conclusion, even before the doctor is done explaining the common causes in detail. She successfully fucked up another important thing in her life.

In the absence of a little furry baby wagging its tail to greet her, Wanda returns home to a dark and empty apartment. Seeking solace, Wanda clings to the hopeful possibility that Sparky may return home in the next few days.

Without bothering to turn on the lights, she kicks off her shoes and curls up into a ball on the couch. Her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, eventually focusing on the small desk where the potted chrysanthemums you gifted her rest. The faint light casts a peculiar shadow on the wall, capturing her attention. Yet, it is the piece of napkin discreetly slipped beneath the pot that her mind is apprehensively fixated to; a thin, fragile thing that would ultimately lead her to you.

It has remained tucked away in Wanda's study, for a month now, as she couldn't bear to disrupt your life once again. She imagines that you are likely doing well, leading a quieter and less tumultuous existence without her. As for Wanda, she has been diligently working on herself, taking each day as it comes. However, the passage of time hasn't diminished her feelings for you, not even in the slightest. The void in her heart, shaped by your absence, remains steadfast, but she has learned to adapt and coexist with it, allowing herself to grow while carrying its weight.

And she wouldn't—not even for a moment—consider disturbing your peace if it weren't for the dog. If your roles were reversed, and you were the one keeping him, Wanda would undoubtedly want to be informed if his brief existence was endangered by an illness.

But then again, you've made your choice. You didn’t want anything to do with her. It was evident in your absence, when you stopped your visits to her apartment, her café; when Wanda's phone could no longer detect any recent online activity from you. You had simply vanished without a trace.

It would be unjust to intrude on your decision when you clearly didn't want to be found.

…And she’s still, quite literally, debating it when she finds herself at your doorstep an hour later.

Your new building looks lavish, Wanda can only imagine how much you’ve spent on the deposit alone. It was a little intimidating when she was asked to leave an ID and the receptionist had to ring your unit to inform you that you had a visitor–dropping her name to you in the process. More interesting than that, however, is that she gave Wanda the go signal to proceed to the elevators, meaning that you gave your consent for her to see you.

There's a sense of relief in realizing that you wouldn't go to the extent of turning her away just to avoid her altogether. She sets aside the questions that her heart desperately wants to ask, knowing they would only thwart the initial intention she has of seeing you.

She is fully aware of how guarded and cautious you were the last time; memories of her well-crafted plans to lure you and get close to you for the obvious reason of winning you back are still fresh in her mind. Wanda understands that she needs to approach this meeting with sensitivity and genuine concern, keeping her intentions clear and focused on Sparky's well-being.

But as she’s about to knock, the door swings open.

“Hi, I–” Wanda’s words die on her tongue and the nervous smile on her face fades into uncertainty.

Standing there, clad in nothing but a t-shirt (which she recognizes having bought it for you) that goes past her thighs, is the woman from the club. The woman who drew the curtains for you in your living room. Her blonde hair cascades in messy beach waves, framing her face and reaching her shoulders.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

But what strikes Wanda the most is how effortlessly the woman seems to blend into the space, appearing more like a tenant than a mere guest who just happened to visit you at this particular time.

Does she live with you?

“Is Y/N home? I’m Wan–”

"Wanda. I know. I’m Yelena," Yelena interrupts, her tone firm yet not unkind, like she’s struggling as much as the brunette. "She's still at work. Is there something you need from her?"

“You’re Yelena? Natasha’s sister?” Wanda asks.

Yelena nods tentatively, her eyes studying Wanda's reaction; she was surprised to get a call from the reception that a certain Wanda Maximoff wanted to come up to her unit. Despite the nagging question of whether you've been seeing Wanda all this time behind her back, she makes a conscious effort to maintain her composure in front of your ex-wife.

Meanwhile, something in Wanda's mind clicks. It's Yelena, not you, who allowed herself to go up to your floor. It's her, not you, who wanted to meet her. Wanda's mind races with questions. Does Yelena know about her? Did Yelena feel the need to introduce herself to your ex-wife?

"Uh..." Wanda's voice trembles with the onset of a panic attack. It turns out, coming here was a mistake, and she’s just grateful you’re not around to witness it. "I'm sorry. Please forget that I came here. Don't let her know I was here, please? I'm really sorry. I'll just go."

Yelena sucks in her cheeks as she reads into Wanda’s sudden panic. "Sure," she replies before softly closing the door on Wanda.

The nights are longer at Stark Industries. You knew what you signed up for when you accepted the job, but now you're starting to feel the repercussions. The stress is taking its toll not only on your work-life balance but also on your relationship with Yelena. You haven’t had dinner together recently, much less a conversation that lasted longer than a few exchanges of “how are you” and “I’m fine”. There’s a lot to make up for, but no date in sight to actually start doing so.

The office is empty except for you and the maintenance worker assigned to the night shift, so when your ringtone cuts through the stillness, the sound of it reverberates off the walls of the empty room, making it too loud for you to ignore.

With your eyes concentrated on a formula on your spreadsheet, you answer your phone without looking at the caller.

“Hey, I’ll be home soon.” you say, assuming it’s Yelena on the line.

“Y/N.” A vaguely familiar voice that’s definitely not Yelena greets you. That’s when you remove your phone from your ear and notice the unknown number on the screen.

“Who’s this?”

The caller doesn’t answer right away. Instead, you can hear rain pouring heavily in the background, something you haven’t been aware of due to the thick windows of the office blocking out outside noises.

“It’s Vision,” The voice cracks over the speaker before you can decide to drop the call. “Wanda needs your help.”

The rain had been relentless throughout the day according to the weather app on your phone. You’ve just been too busy to notice, and so you find yourself without an umbrella. Thankfully, by the time you arrive at the location Vision instructed, the downpour has subsided into a gentle drizzle.

“Jesus, it’s freezing.” you mumble to yourself, wrapping your jacket tighter around your body.

You recognize this part of the city, having gone here numerous times in the past to visit your favorite dive bar where you, Natasha, Clint, and Wanda would hang out for hours just talking and having a good time. Although Natasha and Wanda don’t really talk, they engage in group shots, and Wanda would always challenge you to a game of pool, and you would win one or two matches in a best of seven, because your wife–ex-wife–is just so gifted in just about all kinds of sports.

However, it's not the same bar where you find Wanda. Instead, it’s near a dead-end street and you stumble upon her slumped against a light post in a sorry state. It's obvious that she has consumed a significant amount of alcohol, leaving her almost blacked out. It makes you suspicious if this happens often–Wanda getting shitfaced in random places with Vision in tow.

The sight of Vision doesn’t bother you as much as before, but it still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth to see them together in the same place. Vision, to his credit, keeps a respectful distance, yet the yearning in his face is unmistakable. It's a familiar look, one you've witnessed on Wanda's previous boyfriends when they believed you weren't paying attention.

As you draw closer, Wanda's head tilts back, and her intoxicated eyes, heavy-lidded and unfocused, widen ever so slightly in recognition as they lock with yours.

“Y/N? Is that really you?” Wanda drunkenly slurs, her struggling eyes attempting to focus on your face. “If you’re not, please tell Y/N that I’m not with him,” Wanda says, pointing her thumb in his direction, refusing to even look at Vision. “He just showed up out of nowhere and I told him to stay away. I swear, I’m telling the truth. Vision, tell her, please. Tell her to tell Y/N.”

The street lights become too much for Wanda to bear, and she buries her head into her arms, her knees drawn to her chest. She looks so small and insignificant against the backdrop of a vibrant metropolis.

Steeling yourself against her sorrowful pleas, you turn to Vision instead. “How did you find her?” you demand.

“I was out with my friends, and happened to pass by this area on our way back,” Vision recounts. “I saw two men trying to take her home, and we intervened. I tried asking Wanda where she lives so I can take her home myself, but she refuses to tell me. I tried calling you using her phone, but I think you blocked her number, so I tried calling you myself.”

You’re inclined to believe him, but there will always be bouts of suspicion lingering on the surface when it concerns Wanda. Though as your eyes return to Wanda’s shivering form, you can’t help but wonder if she would truly rather die in the ditches than accept help from him. For the first time, you find yourself contemplating the possibility of believing her, although a part of you wonders if it's simply your enduring soft spot for her attempting to sway your judgment.

“Thank you,” you say to Vision, surprised to find a little sincerity in your voice.

“If I find out you’re the reason why she’s this miserable, I’m putting everything on the line to make sure you stay away from her.” he declares, igniting a cigarette as you support Wanda, draping one of her arms over your shoulder and lifting her up. In that moment, she feels noticeably lighter than before, and your hand can discern the protrusion of her ribs as you secure her against your side.

“Is that a threat?” you say, clenching your jaw, your own clothes getting soaked fast, not realizing early on just how drenched Wanda is from the rain.

“It’s a warning,” Vision answers coolly. “As far as I know, you haven’t atoned for anything. And it’s not because you don’t deserve it. It’s because of her.”

He’s right–you walked out of that bloodied room unscathed from the law. All along you thought the consequences of what you’ve done to Vision just miraculously resolved on its own with the help of Natasha, but if Wanda had anything to do with how you’re not being served with at least damages for physical assault, what price did she have to pay in return?

It’s a conversation for later–you don’t need Wanda to protect you, especially if it means being coerced into complying with Vision's demands.

“I’m ready for anything,” you tell him, goading him with a smirk as you feel Wanda nestle closer to you, seeking your warmth. “Now, get your jacket off her and I’ll take it from here.”

As Vision gently takes off the garment from Wanda's shoulders, your eyes catch sight of a distinct mark on her finger, a faded indentation left by a ring that she no longer adorns.

Upon arriving at Wanda's place, there is no sign of Sparky. You feel a twinge of disappointment, as you had been somewhat anticipating him despite the circumstances. However, your attention swiftly turns to Wanda, who appears even worse now that you have brought her home: her lips are dry and pale, the flush all over her face down to her neck is still there, and she feels excessively warm to touch, almost as if she is–

“Shit, you’re burning up,” you mutter as you place your hand on her damp forehead.

Then all of a sudden, Wanda forcefully pushes you away, her hand covering her mouth, as she rushes towards the bathroom. In her haste, the straps of her sandals snap, breaking under the pressure. Swiftly, you trail behind her, conscientiously removing your shoes along the way to prevent leaving any dirt tracks on her pristine floor.

When you enter the bathroom, you find Wanda hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach. Grimacing at the sight, you kneel beside her and carefully gather her dark hair, holding it up while you wait for her to finish. Once she's done, you flush it down for her. Wanda, seemingly drained, rolls away from the toilet and crawls towards the shower where she simply sits in one corner, closing her eyes with the clear intention of settling down for the night right there.

Faced with a decision, you find yourself contemplating your next course of action. You weigh the responsibilities you had undertaken which was to get Wanda to her apartment safely. What happens to her thereafter should no longer be your concern. After all, Yelena is most likely still waiting for you back at home.

Home. A year ago, the extent to which your definition of it has changed would have been unimaginable.

“Y/N,” Wanda’s weak voice draws your attention away from your thoughts. “You should g-go.” she says hoarsely.

Your fingers close around the doorknob, silent and unmoving, as anger wells up within you; Anger at Wanda for getting herself into this mess. Anger towards Vision for asking you to come to her rescue. Anger at yourself for feeling unable to leave Wanda behind, despite everything.

"Did she tell you about me? I told her not to, Y/N. I'm so sorry..." Wanda's whisper reaches your ears, her eyes remaining shut and her head tilted back, revealing the graceful column of her neck. You instinctively avert your gaze.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“I-I went to see you. But she said you were still working. I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted you to know about Sparky…”

She? Yelena? You didn’t think Yelena would allow Wanda to go up to your apartment just like that.

"He's not well," Wanda continues, her gaze focused on your face as she takes in every detail of it, as if trying to capture the memory of you in case this is the only opportunity she gets.

Your grip on the doorknob tightens. So that explains why Sparky is nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry to hear that. What happened? Is he okay?”

Wanda hiccups, thoughts too jumbled to put together anything coherent. "Liver–not normal," she manages to say, her voice trailing off. She had convinced herself that she wanted to see you for a legitimate reason, but as she gazes at you now, it becomes painfully clear that it was her deep longing for you that has ultimately prevailed.

"Is there anything I could-" you start to offer your help, your concern for Sparky overriding whatever tension lingers between you and Wanda.

"You should leave, Y/N," Wanda interrupts, mustering the strength to open her eyes and meet yours. The shame and despair swirling in those green orbs are hard to ignore, but you try to remain steadfast. "She's probably worried about you."

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, and then, instead of doing as she says, you close the door behind you. Silently, you begin removing your own clothes, stripping down to your underwear.

"I have to dry them anyway," you mumble after feeling the weight of Wanda's stare. "Come on, let's fix you up and get you ready for bed."

Wanda reaches for the hem of her shirt, her hesitation evident as she refrains from removing it. Sensing her struggle, you take the initiative, hoping to expedite the process so you can attend to her needs and leave soon. With gentle care, you lift her shirt up and over her head, exposing her trembling form.

That's when you notice it–her wedding ring that Wanda used to wear on her finger, even after your divorce. But now it has taken on a new form, transformed into a pendant hanging delicately from a chain around her neck. It rests there, nestled between her breasts, a symbol of a past chapter in her life–and yours–that she carries with her, in a different way.

Wanda notices where your eyes are lingering and removes the necklace herself when you remain passive and unmoving.

The next task is unclipping her bra, and as your fingers reach for the hooks, Wanda's hand covers yours, halting your actions.

“Is this–I mean, do you think should…?” she stammers out, and you’re unsure if the blush on her face is still from the alcohol.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," you say, feeling your own face heat up. "I think you have a fever. I need to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?"

Wanda nods meekly, giving her consent.

A few seconds later, Wanda is naked except for the pink she wears on her cheeks. You help her get up and move under the shower. You twist and turn the knob of the shower until you find the desirable temperature, and then start shampooing Wanda’s hair.

As the water cascades over her and rinses away her self-loathing, Wanda finds herself surrendering to your care, allowing her to cherish this rare, tender moment she never knew she’d get to experience again. She is grateful for the water, realizing how weary you must be of seeing her cry; it’s just not possible to restrain herself from it when you’re this gentle with her.

“Can you handle the rest?” you ask Wanda, putting your hands under the shower to get rid of the soap.

“Yes,” she answers.

“Okay. I’ll go get some towels.”

Collecting both yours and Wanda's clothes from the floor, you quickly step out of the bathroom before you can start processing what you’ve just done.

Don’t think, just do, you say to yourself as you put the clothes in the dryer.

Don’t think, just do, you repeat as you get fresh towels from the cabinet.

Don’t think.

When you’re both dry and you’re back in your work clothes and Wanda in her pajamas, you accompany her to her bedroom. You tuck her in and touch her forehead once again to check her temperature. The heat still radiates from her body, and it becomes clear that her fever isn't letting up soon. It won’t go down unless she takes something, but with alcohol still in her system, you don’t think that’s a good idea.

Here, drink this," you offer, extending a sports drink to Wanda.

"Thank you," Wanda murmurs, taking a generous sip before returning the bottle to you.

"Try to finish it. You're likely dehydrated," you suggest. Wanda, acknowledging your advice, obediently continues to drink.

“Better?”

Wanda nods with a small smile. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry you had to go through all that trouble. I didn’t think Vision would–”

“You’re welcome,” you interject as soon as she mentions his name. “We’ll talk soon.”

Wanda's gaze remains fixed on her folded hands in her lap. "You don't have to," she whispers. "You don't have to talk to me or see me if you don't want to. I'm sorry. This doesn't happen a lot anymore—not as often as you might think. Just something happened, and... I didn't mean to involve you, Y/N. I'm really sorry."

Something? What exactly happened? Regardless, you don't think it's healthy for Wanda to subject herself to such a high level of intoxication, no matter what the circumstances may be.

"We'll talk soon," you repeat, keeping your tone firm but gentle. "Take care, Wanda. Good night."

Yelena is wide awake in the living room, her attention focused on a book resting on her lap as you arrive home. The soft glow of a lamp illuminates her features, casting a gentle light on her face. There's a stillness in the room, interrupted only by the turning of pages and the sound of your footsteps.

You hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of her.

"Hey," you greet her wearily. "You're still awake?"

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” she says, somewhat bashfully. "There's salad in the fridge if you haven't eaten." she offers.

You pause for a moment, and then meeting her gaze, you ask, "Do you have something to tell me?"

Yelena levels you with a look, putting her book down, she says, “No. Do you?”

Taking a deep breath, you tell her you do. “I took Wanda home,” you declare, bracing yourself for Yelena’s reaction but her face remains stoic. There's a flicker of something in her eyes, almost as if she had been anticipating your words.

“Can you clarify?” Yelena finally speaks up when you make no further effort to elaborate.

"In the office, I received a call from Vision," you explain. “He said Wanda needed my help. She was in no condition to go home on her own so I took her.”

“Why didn’t he take her home himself?”

You shrug slightly. "Wanda refused to go with him.”

There's a quiet intensity in her eyes, a depth of emotions that she holds back, yet you can sense them lingering beneath the surface. And then, she asks, “And nothing happened?”

“I helped her get change and manage her fever,” you say. “Nothing else happened.”

Yelena's gaze softens, and any trace of her being bothered by your confession finally reveals itself in the form of a soft sigh that escapes her lips.

"Thank you for telling me," Yelena says, wrapping her arms around your neck. "In that case, I should have mentioned that Wanda came by, and I let her come up here."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask curiously.

"She told me not to let you know," Yelena reveals quite casually. "And I didn't think it was important anyway."

You hum in response, grateful for her honesty and openness at least. Although, you sense that there might be more to the story than meets the eye.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I've been in touch with her?" you inquire, unable to ignore the nagging curiosity in your mind. Yelena's seemingly mild reactions in response to her encounter with Wanda is slightly unsettling.

“I wasn’t going to,” Yelena confesses, lowering her gaze before they come back up with a vulnerability that wasn’t there before. “But have you?”

You shake your head in response, indicating the truth. Yelena’s shoulder slackens and she steps closer to you. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I missed you,” Yelena mumbles the words like a secret, before capturing your lips in a short, sweet kiss, effectively stealing you away from your thoughts.

"Me too," you whisper back, feeling the day's events weighing on you, you take her hand and guide her towards the bedroom. "Let's go to bed."

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