#a quick little attempt at shading/lighting

[soosoosoup]

Queen Poppy spins into our hearts!!! (an Alt. pallete for her Valentine's outfit.)

couldn't decide which i prefer, so have both :)

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls poppy #queen poppy #braided pig tails poppy!!!! #had a lot of fun with her valentine's outfit #so here's part 2 #alt color edition! #consider this a thank you for all who have like and reblogged #felt real welcomed :) #and especially to the very first followers!!! what's up lovelies!!! #shout out to the reblog who said they wanted to eat the last post #really made me smile :) #excuse the messiness #tried to get this one out as soon as i could #hopefully this isnt fuzzy #trolls fanart #my art <3 #a quick little attempt at shading/lighting #gotta actually learn how to haha

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Thinking about playfighting with Rafayel

+ brief sexual content, play fighting, subby rafayel

Your sweet, dramatic friend of a man. Your fights with him normally stay in the verbal arena, where he excels at throwing playful jabs, sassy remarks, the quick teasing nickname, and occasional cocky comment. When he’s smart-mouthed one too many times, oh, that’s when you have to drag him into your arena. It never hurts to teach your Lemurian charge who’s the real boss from time to time.

It never goes far; you think he might be a little too delicate for your full strength. So, you stick to a quick tackle, some torturous tickles, and silly pokes, all in attempts to make his face go a lovely shade of red and hear him beg for mercy. You love when he’d whine your name and plead for forgiveness while the angry pout and glare after would always be the icing on a very much deserved cake.

Sometimes, when he’s in a cheerful mood, he fights back, determined to give you a taste of your own medicine.

It always ends up with you two on the ground in front of his couch. You pin him on his stomach to punish him for defying you, and he tries his best to regain dominance. Even with all his squiggling and wiggling like an octopus out of water, he won’t be able to get you off.

Forcing yourself to lie on top of him and pressing your chest into his back, you ignore his demands for you to let him up, not until he apologizes. Ah, but he never wants to give in right away, and you up your force a little as he tries to flip you over.

Then, there’s a tug.

It’s an accident.

You weren’t entirely paying attention to where your hand was until there’s already wavy purple strands tangled around your fingers and the loud moan that filled the room was already beginning to fade away. It leaves you frozen with Rafayel whose hair is clutched in your hands and whose ears and face are very, very deep red.

This is certainly a first.

“Did you just—” you ask.

“No,” he groans out, but his denial is short lived because you just can’t resist teasing him and seeing that blushing face of his, so obviously, you have to experiment by giving another light tug. It yields the same result: a whine held deep in his throat and the tensing of his legs under you.

“Stop,” he says. “You’re gonna—”

You cut him off with a grunt, already knowing where he was going.

“Turn you on?” You finish for him. “Don't tell me you have a hard on.”

The pout he gives is adorable, his face brightly decorated like a bucket of vermillion paint was dumped on him. He lifts his arm to his face, trying to hide the blush behind his hand, which you take that to mean as a ‘yes’.

“What else do you expect to happen when you do that?” he comments between heavy breathes, and the absolute embarrassment laced in his voice makes a tingle go down your spine as he sputters out lame excuse after excuse – it was reflex, random timing, the rubbing, to try not to get too full of yourself—like he was an inexperienced young man dealing with his first rush of hormones.

All you could hear was your own thoughts whirling faster and faster and the adorably flustered sounds of his voice straining as you repositioned on top of him.

“Round 2,” you whisper then blow against the back of his heated neck, causing him to shudder.

A lightly grumbled “shameless as always,” puffs from behind his trembling hand. But when have you ever led him to believe that you weren’t especially in situations like these?

You squeeze your hand between his stomach and the floor, slowly drawing it down and stopping at his belt. He doesn't fight it, doesn't move even, maybe is silently anticipating this even more than you. Still, you’re not “shameless” enough to not give him a choice in the matter.

“Last chance to tap out, fishie. Apologize,” you warn.

It takes him time to respond, but when he does you can’t resist smirking. He finally asks, “Do you really think I’d give in so easily? Do your worst.”

You nearly laugh. That’s what you thought.

#rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel smut #lads x reader #lnd x reader #love and deepspace #lds x reader #notsfw #adelssmut #gender neutral reader

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)

This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.

As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.

TW: violence, monsters

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]

You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.

"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.

You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.

Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.

Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?

You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.

There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.

"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.

You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.

Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.

After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.

The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.

A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.

Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.

"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!

Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."

The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.

"You're not him, are you? But then again..."

"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."

"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.

"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"

"The exit to...where? You're outside."

You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"

"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."

Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.

"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."

You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.

Something just grabbed you.

Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.

You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.

Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.

The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.

You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.

"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."

The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.

"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.

Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.

"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."

"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"

"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 

You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 

You just want to sleep.

You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 

"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 

His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.

Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 

"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.

Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.

"What do you mean?"

"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"

"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."

A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.

"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 

The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 

"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."

As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 

A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 

"Found you."

The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.

How will you get out of this?

#female reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere yokai #yandere demon #yandere monster #monster x reader #yokai x reader #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #original work

[rynwritesreid]

hi hello yes i just read your post ab spencer buying the necklace and it was amazing and i was hoping to see a pt 2 with spencer buying an anklet with his initials for the reader? and at first you thought it was a bracelet but then he tells you it’s only for him so he can see it while y’all are fucking and your legs are on his shoulders 👀

A/N: You guys have to stop coming up with such good ideas :,). to anon, I am so glad you liked the first part to this, I hope this is everything you want it to be.

Summary: Spencer feels it's unfair that you don't have a piece of jewellery with his initials on it, and decided to make things right. But when you find out the reasoning him for picking an anklet over a bracelet, you can't wait to see if his idea matches reality.

Content: Smut 18+. Fluff. Dom!Spencer. Fem!reader. oral (F!receiving) No mentions of contraception. Penetration. Creampie. some aftercare mentioned. Possessive Spencer. Pet names (princess and my love).

Masterlist| requests are open| navigation

After Spencer had seen your reaction to his necklace with your initials, he thought it was only fair in getting you something. However, while Spencer enjoyed seeing how effective a little piece of jewellery was in stopping him from getting unwarranted interactions, he didn’t necessarily want that for you.

So, when you came home to see Spencer with a carefully gift-wrapped box you weren’t too surprised as he did love getting you gifts, but you had no idea what he had gotten you. 

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing the box suspiciously. Spencer grinned mischievously, enjoying the anticipation written all over your face.

Open it and see," he urged, handing you the box.

You carefully peeled away the wrapping paper, revealing a sleek black velvet box. With a quick glance at Spencer, who was practically bouncing with anticipation, you lifted the lid to find a stunning silver bracelet nestled inside. As you looked closer you could see an S and R entwined in an elegant script, just like the necklace he had. You gasped, running your fingers over the delicate design as a smile spread across your face.

"It's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered, feeling touched by his thoughtful gesture. He beamed with pride, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Can you help me put it on?” 

“Of course I can, my love.” He paused for a brief second. “But I do have a confession to make about it.”  Spencer’s cheeks seemed to become a light shade of pink, his eyes twinkly with mischief. “It’s not.” He coughed slightly, one of the nervous ticks you had noticed about him when you two first started dating, “it’s not a bracelet. It’s an anklet.” 

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "An anklet?" you echoed, pretending to be surprised. Spencer nodded, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. 

"I thought it would look perfect on you," he explained. With a chuckle, you sat down and lifted your leg for him to fasten the anklet around your ankle. “And, well this is for my eyes only.”

“For your eyes only, huh?” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in your eyes. Spencer's cheeks flushed even deeper as he nodded, his gaze locked on your ankle as he fastened the anklet securely in place. “I didn’t know you admired my ankles this much, Spencer.” 

Spencer let out a nervous laugh, feeling caught in his attempt to keep the anklet more of a private sentiment. “It’s not your ankles I’ll be admiring when I am looking at this.” Spencer moved a little closer to your ear. “It’s the fact they’ll be resting on my shoulders.” He stated in a whispered tone.

"Spencer," you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to cup his cheek, "you never cease to amaze me." His eyes sparkled with affection and a hint of something more as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “Should we test it out. Because I also want to know what it will look like on your shoulders.” You whispered, a playful twinkle in your eye.

Spencer was more than eager to test it out, he also loved knowing there was always going to be a reminder on you that you belong to him. With a shared grin, you both rose from the couch, your new anklet glinting in the soft light of the room. Spencer's hand found yours, his touch warm and reassuring as he led you to the bedroom.

As you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer gently turned you to face him. His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, a silent promise lingering in their depths. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly knelt before you, his fingers deftly tracing the delicate chain of the anklet around your ankle.

"Beautiful," Spencer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But not as beautiful as you." The sincerity in his words made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through you at his tender gesture. Silently, he rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving yours as he led you to the bed.

With a gentle hand on the small of your back, Spencer guided you to sit on the edge of the mattress. He moved closer, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away in that moment, leaving just the two of you lost in each other.

As the kiss deepened, Spencer's hands began to explore, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire. You responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. The anklet felt like a secret between the two of you, a symbol of your connection and the intimacy you shared.

Clothes were shed in a flurry of urgency, but there was a tenderness in each caress, a deep-seated love that transcended mere physical desire. But Spencer was not in a hurry to do anything else, he wanted to take his time with you, admire you.

As you lay in your shared bed with him, he couldn’t imagine been anywhere else. “I love you so much.” His voice husky and filled with lust. He started to kiss your neck, but he started moving down.

He peppered kisses down your neck and traced the curves of your skin with his lips, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Your breath hitched as he reached your collarbone, his touch igniting a passion that burned brightly between you. Spencer's hands roamed your body with reverence, mapping every dip and curve as if committing you to memory.

You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation of his lips on your skin, the love and desire mingling into a heady cocktail that enveloped you both. His movements were slow and deliberate.

Spencer's kisses trailed lower, his hands guiding the path as he worshipped every inch of you. When he finally reached the curve of your hip, he paused, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of adoration and hunger. Without a word, he pressed a soft kiss to your hipbone, a silent promise of all that was to come.

As his mouth finally meet your clit, almost by instinct, you wrapped your legs around his neck. You gasped at the sudden intimacy, the surge of desire overwhelming you. Your hips bucked instinctively, the need to feel him against you consuming you. He smiled against you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began to move his tongue in a rhythmic pattern that made your body clench.

With each stroke of his tongue, your moans grew louder, each one a testament to the pleasure building within you. His fingers found their way to your throbbing core, sliding inside you with ease. The sensation was too much, too intense, and you cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Spencer pulled himself away from you, and gently pulled you to the edge of the bed. He grabbed your legs and placed them above his shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours. As he began to line himself up, he couldn’t believe how lucky he is, seeing his initials dangle from your leg and how you react to every touch he gives you, he knew you would always be his.

As he entered you, slowly at first, your eyes locked in a passionate gaze with his own. Your breath hitched as he made his way deeper, claiming you fully. Your senses were heightened, the anticipation and longing that had built between you now manifesting in the most intimate of ways.

Spencer moved with purpose, his movements slow and deliberate, each one designed to bring you closer to the edge. He could feel your body responding to his, the perfectly synchronized dance of your hips and his thrusts.

“Spencer, you feel so good.” You basically moaned out. 

Spencer briefly moved his attention away from your eyes and turned it towards your ankle. Although this was Spencer’s favourite position before, because of how deep he could get, it had somehow become even better. 

Seeing the anklet on your ankle, with his initials, as he thrust into you was an erotic sight for him. And while Spencer was definitely more dominant than you, and he did sometimes like to act like that when it came to sex, what he said next seemed to be a bit of shock for you.

“You feel so good, princess. Especially now, knowing you belong to me and that no other man will ever get to look at you like this. Because these, are my initials.” Spencer stated, his eyes glinting with a mixture of possessiveness and love.

You moaned softly, your hips bucking against him in response. "You belong to me, always," Spencer promised, his voice low and husky with desire. "And I will make sure everyone knows it."

You knew Spencer was just stating a fact, but hearing it like that, it seemed so much more real than before.

Spencer's movements grew more urgent, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. You could feel your climax growing near, the pleasure building up inside you.

"Spencer," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I need you to...please, don't stop."

He smiled at you, a mix of tenderness and dominance in his eyes. "Don't worry, I won't. I'll give you whatever you need."

With that, he increased his pace, driving deeper into you. You could hear him moaning softly, his breath hot against your ear as he thrust into you.

Your body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming you as you felt the sensation of a climax building within you. Spencer knew the moment it hit you, his fingers digging into your hips as he matched your rhythm. As you cried out his name, he thrust harder, his own release not far off.

His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity and passion etched across his face. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so beautiful, so perfect, and all mine."

With a final thrust, Spencer groaned out your name, his pleasure intertwined with your own. Your bodies pressed together, sweating, and gasping for air, as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, the evidence of his love for you, and vice versa.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Spencer whispered softly, a hint of possession in his voice. He gently pulled out of you, admiring the wetness that had pooled between your legs. You watched as he stood up and walked over to the bathroom, his body still glistening with sweat.

He turned on the water and adjusting the temperature to warm, he walked back into the bedroom, as he knew it would be almost impossible for you to walk and carried you into the shower.

He gently placed you under the cascading water, his hands caressing your body as he washed you clean. The water was warm and soothing, but the real heat came from the look in his eyes as he admired your naked body.

"You are mine," he said softly, his fingers tracing the wet skin of your back. "And I will never let you go."

~join my taglist~

~taglist~

@iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee @katieeeee314 @evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @krokietino @xohoneybun @spencerreidwifeee @purplepistachi0 @pleasantwitchgarden @bitchassbecky691 @piperb400 @queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @luvpiercethekaty  @anna-belle-xd @catsareawesomek @drreidsfavwhxre @oureternalbond @beth-gallagher22 @keiva1000 @k3nzxx @lookingforgodintheclouds @firstunmannedflyingdeskset @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @r-3dlips @keiva1000 @peppersapro @just-a-harmless-patato @spenxerslut @skulliecadaver-blog @svnfully @reidsgirlhottie @amethysssssst @bluepuppethidinginafilingcabinet @lover-of-books-and-tea @Indigosamsblog @khxna @jem08 @ladylincoln @khxna @Kimm4710 @karenfrancoespinosa-blog @Ltscar9 @niktwazny303 @sleepysongbirdsings @st4rdusks

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #dom spencer reid #sub reader #mgg smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid imagine

[ryuluvr]

needy. (wlw, smut)

warnings: softdom!ryu, sub!reader, mommy kink, thigh riding, praise, slight begging, orgasm permission.

summary: reader is horny as hell but is shy when it comes to asking ryujin to help them out. (requested, tysm!!)

word count: 1000

( not proof read, ends as quick as it starts tbh, just wanted to get something out after such a long break! )

you adjusted yourself on the edge of your double bed, crossing one leg over the other as your eyes settled on ryujin across the room. she was gaming at a desk, the game irrelevant to you in this moment. this woman looked good, too good. and no matter how hard you fought it, all you could think about was her touching you, her slender fingers exploring every inch of your soft skin. you left the room more times than you could count to try and occupy yourself and distract your dirty mind, but of course it was no use. you needed her, desperately, but asking for that felt beyond embarrassing for someone as shy as you.

a deep sigh escaped your lips once you reached the living room, throwing yourself down on the nearest couch and immediately zoning out. cleaning wont help, listening to music wont help, nothing you try will take fucking ryujin out of your head.

“hey, you okay?” immediately you snap back to reality, ryujin chuckling at the sight of you just sitting there in silence. in a poor attempt to clear your mind you shake your head and smile up at her sweetly. you didnt even hear her walk to you.

“i’m good, sorry!”

“you look like you got a lot on your mind… stressed, baby?”

“no- nothing like that, dont worry.”

ryujin quickly makes herself comfortable beside you on the couch, her eyes scanning every inch of your face which immediately made you feel hot. her hand reaches for your thigh and she gives it a light squeeze, frowning at your silence.

“talk to me, baby. what’s wrong?” her eyes were practically burning into your skin and it was unbearable. as you glanced in the opposite direction, your cheeks flushed a deep pink shade, embarrassment completely taking over you. as much as you didnt want to admit it, you thought maybe its time. she was not going to let you leave until you told her.

to your surprise, ryujin took your chin gently between her thumb and finger, turning your head to face her. “baby.” she spoke once more, this time much lower, her voice barely audible. something had switched up inside her and it was obvious to you.

“i just… i dont know… i just keep thinking about you.” you matched the other woman’s tone, soon biting down on your bottom lip due to the nerves.

ryujin understood within seconds. she always does. “you want me, pretty?” she began, “want some attention?”

her voice was enough to make you go weak, nodding without giving it a single thought. she quietly asked you to stand up before pulling off your panties and letting your skirt fall to the floor shortly after. ryujin lightly tapped her thigh with the hand previously holding your face. you wasted no time, immediately positioning yourself on her thigh and letting her soft lips teasingly brush against your neck. you grip onto her shoulders to keep yourself up as a slight whimper escapes you. ryujin started by trailing multiple kisses across your neck and up to your jawline, her hands rubbing your back lightly from under your top.

you were still, yet could still feel how wet you were against her thigh. ryujin was wearing shorts, so the skin on skin feeling was driving you beyond crazy. her lips claimed yours in a desperate kiss, eventually disconnecting when she slipped your top off and over your head, her fingers immediately working at your bra to remove that too. a gasp left your lips when you felt ryujins tongue trace along your nipples, flicking them enough to make you whine loudly.

“ryu, please…” you could barely think, and your cheeks showed no sign of cooling down. she paused to press a gentle kiss to your lips instead, her right hand brushing your hair out of your face. it was little things like that which made you melt.

ryujin’s hands gripped onto your hips and began guiding you on her thigh causing a soft moan to escape you. you continued grinding against her and your clit was throbbing more with every passing second. you dragged your soaked folds against ryujin’s skin, your nails practically digging into her shoulders to keep yourself upright.

“does it feel good, baby?” ryujin asked, her warm breath tickling your ear, “you like getting off on mommy’s thigh, hm?”

your entire body shuddered at her words, your pace quickening as you desperately tried to chase an orgasm.

“ah- i do!” a series of moans and whimpers filled the room as you continued grinding against ryujin’s thigh, one hand running up to squeeze your breast. “mommy, ‘m so close.. fuck, it feels so good..”

a devilish smirk appeared across ryujin’s face as she tensed her thigh, sending immense waves of pleasure to your needy cunt. her grip on your soft hips tightened as she kept planting sloppy kisses to your lips and neck.

“have i told you that you can come baby?” ryujin asked, her tone even lower than before. your head dropped as your body twitched over her, needing to stop yourself before you came without her permission. you didn’t care if it was embarrassing, you needed release.

“please ryu- fuck, please mommy! please can i cum? i need it!” you begged, pathetically whining into the crook of her neck. she waited a few moments as if to torture you before quietly agreeing. “cum for me, angel, let it out.”

your hips didn’t hesitate to pick up the pace once more, only taking a matter of seconds to reach your climax. your pornographic moans and loud squeals filled the room as you made a mess all over ryujin’s thigh, desperately rubbing your overly sensitive clit against her soft skin until you felt your whole body go limp on top of her.

ryujin instantly wrapped her arms around your waist and held you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek as you came down from such a high.

“feel better, baby?” she whispered before pulling you further onto her lap, your cheeks flushing a deep pink shade. you nodded as if to say yes and cuddled up to the other woman, smiling through the gentle kiss you pressed against her lips.

#shin ryujin smut #ryujin smut #itzy smut #girl group smut fxf #girl group smut #itzy imagines #ryujin itzy #itzy fanfic #ryujin fanfic #wlw nfst #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #fxf smut #kpop smut #smut #itzy ryujin

[barelytolerabled]

Unexpected Chemistry

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: You, a new member join the BAU team and learn about Spencer Reid's germophobia, especially his theory about kissing being less germ contagious

Warnings: none

WC: 1.034

Taglist: @envraijesaispas @rosecentury @taygrls @thisismeraki @thenerdthatwrites @bigbunnygucci

You stepped into the BAU bullpen, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. Today was your first day as the newest member of the team, and you were eager to prove yourself. As you glanced around, taking in the familiar faces and busy agents, you noticed the whispers and knowing glances exchanged among your colleagues.

Curiosity piqued, you approached one of your future teammates, Emily Prentiss. The dark-haired agent flashed you a knowing smile before leaning in conspiratorially.

"Welcome to the BAU," she said, her voice low. "Just a heads up, our resident genius, Spencer Reid, has a bit of a germophobia."

"Really?" you asked, intrigued. "In what way?"

Emily chuckled. "He's known for his fact about kissing being more hygienic than shaking hands. It's become kind of a running joke around here."

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips. You were an extroverted and confident woman, unafraid to take risks. And if Spencer Reid had a thing about germs, well, you couldn't resist the temptation to playfully test his limits.

Later that day, the team gathered in the conference room for their usual briefing. You sat eagerly, ready to dive into the world of profiling and investigations. The door swung open, and in walked Spencer Reid, his lanky frame adorned in his characteristic cardigan.

Your breath hitched as your eyes met his. There was something undeniably captivating about the way his hazel eyes sparkled with intelligence. He took a moment to scan the room, his gaze briefly settling on you before moving on. It was now or never.

Standing up abruptly, you made your way over to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Spencer's brow furrowed in confusion as you closed the distance between you.

"Hi," you greeted, your voice laced with confidence. "I'm the newest member of the team. It's so nice to meet you.", you said your name.

Before he had a chance to respond, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, a quick and playful peck. A chorus of gasps and surprised murmurs filled the room. Spencer's eyes widened in astonishment, frozen in place.

"Oh, sorry," you said, stepping back with a playful smile. "I just figured a kiss would be better than a handshake."

Emily burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. Hotch struggled to keep a straight face, while Morgan raised an appreciative eyebrow. Garcia let out a delighted squeal, finding the situation highly amusing.

Spencer blinked rapidly, his brain attempting to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he stammered out a response.

"I, um... I... Uh, yes, that's... statistically accurate," he managed to utter, his voice a little higher than usual.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension dissipating in the room. It seemed you had managed to catch the brilliant Dr. Reid off guard, and it delighted you.

From that moment on, Spencer and you formed a unique bond. The initial surprise gave way to a playful dynamic between you, filled with teasing banter and lighthearted flirtation.

He discovered that your outgoing nature and confidence were refreshing, a counterbalance to his more introverted tendencies.

As days turned into weeks, your relationship with Spencer deepened. Beyond the initial prank, you saw the real man beneath the genius exterior—kind, compassionate, and fiercely loyal. He shared his vulnerabilities with you, trusting you with parts of himself that few had ever seen.

With time, the playful kisses transformed into

tender embraces and lingering gazes. Your connection went beyond the initial joke, evolving into something deeper and more profound. The germophobia that had once defined him faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of your affection.

In the midst of high-pressure cases and the constant darkness of their work, you and Spencer found solace in each other. You became his anchor, providing him with love and support when he needed it most. And he, in turn, showered you with the kind of intellectual and emotional intimacy that made your heart soar.

So, as you walked side by side, hand in hand, through the corridors of the BAU, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Your unconventional first encounter had set the stage for a beautiful love story—one that proved that sometimes, the unexpected and bold choices could lead to the most extraordinary connections.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds

[nctsplug02]

Over that about corruption kink with Johnny or jaehyun?

[9:24PM]

GENRE: smut, brothers best friend x VIRGIN, cocky innocent reader!

WARNINGS: LOST OF VIRGINITY, masturbating, fingering, soft sex, slow sex, vanilla sex, praising, degrading, condom usage, and kissing.

you moan, squeezing your eyes shut while he desperately grabs at your hips and drives his hips against yours.

his balls slapping your ass, causing a light pink shade to show up on the part his balls were smacking against.

“oh, fuck.” you moan and toss your head back.

your fingers working into your hole while your vibrator sits against your clit. your body jerks violently against the buzzing bullet.

“oh, my god.” you gasp and arch your back off the soft mattress.

“jae,” you moan.

“y/n?” you gasp and sit up, eyes going wide.

your eyes land on the tall and slim figure that stood in your doorway.

oh no.

you knew who the figure was; jeong jaehyun, your older brothers best friend.

“i knew it.” the man scoffs with a smug smirk.

“hm,” your gaze darkens. “care to join me?” you bring your fingers up to your mouth and you plop your fingers onto your tongue.

jaehyun looks back and licks his lips before slipping in and shutting your door behind him. it locks with a quiet click.

you softly gulp when jaehyun takes your offer.

you didn’t think he would.

“do you know how long i’ve been waiting for this day? i’ve dreamt of this day, y/n.” your eyes follow his black t-shirt that he’d tossed to the side.

“w—what day.” your chin slightly shakes when jaehyun begins to unbuckle his pants. “the day you caved in and finally allowed me to fuck you.” he crawls on your bed and stops when snuggled between your legs.

jaehyun looks down and smirks. “can i touch you, baby?” the nickname makes your stomach flutter and you follow his smirk and lazy gaze.

“since you asked so nicely.” you coon and lean forward, ghosting your lips over his.

jaehyun scoffs and quickly slams his lips onto yours. you fall back against your headboard and you let out a quiet whimper.

your hand slaps itself on the man’s freshly shaved beard while a moan escapes from your throat. jaehyun cups your thighs from under and yanks you until your under him.

jaehyun pulls away and rubs your clit with his thumb while his jaw clenches. “oh, wow— fuck.” you gasp and attempt to clamp your legs shut but jaehyuns hands are too strong that they keep ‘em apart.

“kiss me with those pretty lips, baby.” you cup his jaw and lower his lips to yours.

a moan causes you to pull away from the man. his finger slowly sinking into your pussy. “s—slowly.” you whisper, watching your pussy suck in his middle finger.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jaehyun looks up and softly chuckles. “and i’m only using one finger.” you toss a scowl at him.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.” jaehyun kisses your forehead and grins.

you moan and slightly toss your head back. his finger just sitting inside you felt amazing.

“i’m gonna add one more, okay?” he speaks softly. “wait— ow!” you let out a small cry when feeling the slight stretch.

jaehyun pauses and looks up at you. “you said to wait.” you nod and attempt to take in slow breathes but they come quick.

“wait,” you look up at him. “are you a virgin?”

fuck.

“i..” you hesitate.

would jaehyun change his mind after finding out you’re a virgin?

“i’m sorry, i’m really sorry.” you speak fast.

jaehyun tilts his head. “sorry? sorry, for what?”

you shake your head. “you probably don’t sleep with virgins. i—if you want to change your mind then just do it, i don’t care.”

your chest heaves and your eyes swell with tears. you look up to see jaehyun smiling at you. “why— why’re you smiling?”

jaehyun shakes his head and sighs. “are you done, now?”

you cock a confused eyebrow. “what do you mean?”

jaehyun laughs and slips his fingers out of you. “i mean with your little babbling,” jaehyun circles your face. “look,” he sighs, “i don’t care that you’re a virgin. i just want your first time to be.. with someone more special.” he says with a shrug.

“but, you are special. do you know how long i’ve been crushing on you?” jaehyun shakes his head. “seven years, jaehyun. seven.”

“you’re so cute.” your eyes blink shut as his finger comes into contact with the tip of your nose.

when your eyes open up, you see jaehyun smiling down at you. “maybe we should hold off on the sex and start with foreplay.”

“jae, seven years. i’ve been waiting for seven years—?!” jaehyun cups your face and nods while laughing. “alright, i get it! you waited seven years.” he laughs while you scowl.

jaehyun knocks your legs apart and he looks down before looking back up at you.

your eyes twitch while feeling jaehyuns fingers slide back into you. your lips slowly parting.

jaehyun watches your expression, his eyes searching and looking out for any signs of discomfort.

“um,” jaehyun stills his fingers in you and you bite your lip. “you can move, im fine.” he nods and begins to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy.

“you smell so sweet, y/n. fuck.” jaehyun sighs and dips his head, connecting his lips with yours.

you pull away and moan when jaehyuns fingers brush against your g-spot. “shit,” you gasp and jaehyun looks at you. you gasp, again when jaehyun brushes the same area.

“feel good?” you nod, biting your lip and shutting your eyes close. your eyes quickly reopen and your jaw drops when feeling a volt of pleasure shot up your spine.

jaehyuns thumb rests on your clit and rubs the bud in a circular motion. “oohh, my god.” you sing in a shaky tone.

“jaehyun,” the man nods, his fingers slowing down. “i think im ready.” jaehyun slips his fingers out of you and sighs. “you can’t think that you’re ready. i have to be sure that you are. i don’t want to take your virginity if you think you’re ready. i’m serious, y/n.”

“i’m ready, jae. please.” your eyebrows pinch together.

jaehyun licks his lips. “are you sure?”

“more than ever.”

jaehyun sits up. “i’m gonna go grab a condom real quick, okay?” you quickly snatch his hand. “i—i have one.” jaehyun tilts his head. “johnny gave one to me for whenever i went to parties and said it was just in case i was looking for fun.”

jaehyun laughs. “where is it, princess?” you bite your lip. “my closet, black louis purse, it’s hanging on my door.” jaehyun nods and climbs off the bed, rushing over to your closet and yanking the door open and digging through your purse.

you sit up when jaehyun finally pulls out the golden foil and looks over at you. he kicks the door close and climbs back on the bed.

jaehyun rips the foil open and pulls out the condom, sliding it on his rock hard cock.

“are you sure you’re ready.”

“yes, i’m ready.”

jaehyun cups your calves and yanks you towards him. his thighs under your hips. jaehyun jerks himself a few more times before lining himself up.

“this may hurt a little.” jaehyun slowly pushes himself in and you wince. “ouch,” you hiss and bring your balled up fist to your mouth, digging your teeth into your knuckles.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” jaehyun takes your hand and squeezes it firmly. “fuck,” you whine, hips digging into the mattress.

jaehyun groans at the right fitting and then sighs when feeling you release the tight hold. “you feel amazing, y/n.”

a few minutes with jaehyun whispering sweet praises in your ear go by.

“you can move now, i think im okay.” jaehyun looks up at you before slowly lifting his lips and slowly dropping them back into place.

you moan and drop your head on your pillow. “wow,” you sigh and laugh.

you lift your head as jaehyun picks up his pace. he begins to snap his hips while grunting and scrunching his nose.

“i’m gonna cum, y/n.” you bring your hand to your clit and your fingers begin to rub the hard and swollen bud.

“cum and show me how good my pussy makes you feel.” jaehyun sighs and drops his body onto yours.

you gasp when feeling his dick slip in deeper. you squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your legs around him with your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders.

you let out soft moans while jaehyun works his way towards his climax. his base rubbing your clit, causing your orgasm to grow closer.

“i’m gonna cum— fuck, y/n.” jaehyun moans and holds himself up with his forearm.

jaehyuns forehead rests above yours. your eyes holding contact with his. your chin rises up and your jaw drops when feeling a pressure on your clit.

jaehyun smirks at your reaction to his fingers messing with your clit. “jae— oh, my— im gonna cum!” you gasp and arch your back off the bed as your orgasm crashes over you.

“oh, fuck!” jaehyun hisses when feeling you tighten around him. “shit, im cumming.” jaehyun sighs as he releases his load into the rubber condom.

jaehyun stills before getting up and sliding off the condom, tying it and tossing it in the trash can that was next to your dresser.

you watch as jaehyun cleans you up with tissue from your nightstand. “you okay?” you nod.

a grin breaks on your face when processing what had happened.

“i’m glad it was you.” jaehyun sits up with your panties and bra in hand. “hm?” he hums, turning to you and dressing you.

“i said im glad it was you that i lost my.. virginity to.” jaehyun softly smiles and sighs. “you’re brother is going to kill me.”

you sit up and snatch your bra from him. you slip your arms through the straps and you clip it on. “let’s not worry about him for now.”

as you go to wrap your arms around his neck, shouting from outside your room causes you to freeze.

“jeong jaehyun, stop banging my sister and get out here, now!” you look at him with wide eyes.

“or sure, let’s worry about him now.” jaehyun laughs and stands up from your bed, dressing himself and leaving your room to face your older brother.

#anon #ash talks #nctsplug02 #nct scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #nct 127 #nct smut #nct imagines #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun masterlist #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun imagines #jeong jaehyun fluff #nct jaehyun #jaehyun

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.1)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

summary: fluff omg, jk being a cute bf, painting each others nails and its just basically cute stuff HAHA

word count: 600+

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

Ever since you and Jungkook had started dating three years ago, he became a major part of your daily life, and even on days where he would not be able to see you in person, your boyfriend would always make the effort to give you a call and whisper sweet nothings into the phone.

One of your adopted habits was to include your boyfriend in every aspect of your life. Whether it was a casual get-together with your own circle of friends or any other social event, you had an inclination to bring Jungkook along with you, a gesture that he wholeheartedly embraced, never once expressing reluctance or complaint.

In this case, Jungkook finds himself trailing behind you and your best friend, Sohee, as the both of you enter the familiar shop. A subtle wince crosses his face as he observes the two of you quickening your pace, your excited squeals filling the air upon reaching closer to the rows of products displayed before you.

Jungkook watches as the both of you light up upon noticing a small booth, remembering you had mentioned once about that particular brand. A quiet hum leaves his mouth as he watches the both of you excitedly swatch the different shades of eyeshadow, but to him, they look exactly the same shade.

—

“___, I’m gonna go to the toilet, wait for me here okay? Don’t you dare to try other stuff without me,” Sohee raises a finger at you playfully as she walks off. Now it’s only you and Jungkook, and your boyfriend is more than content to finally get some of your attention.

“Jagi,” Jungkook whines as he leans down to peck you on the lips, you chuckle as you reach up to ruffle his hair in sympathy. Poor boy, you thought.

“If we stay here any longer I’m literally going to go insane,” He whines, eyes adverting to your hand filled with various makeup products smeared onto your skin.

“I promise we’ll be quick,” A laugh sounds out from your mouth at his exasperated state, as Jungkook sighs, mentally cursing at himself for not charging his phone the night before, now that it’s battery had gone flat.

You begin to test out more shades where you and Sohee had left off, not leaving anywhere else, but it seems as though your boyfriend had other plans.

“Hey!” You gasp as Jungkook gently tugs on your arm, forcing you to follow along behind him as he trudges towards another aisle.

“Baby, what are you doing?” You question his sudden actions when your boyfriend reaches for the nail polish tester and raises your hand to paint your index finger oh-so-gently, his brows furrowed as he tries his best to paint within the nail. You begin to laugh at Jungkook’s sudden actions, but he cuts you off, “Jagi, stop moving, you’re gonna make me mess up,”

After he’s done painting your fingernail, Jungkook looks contented at his little artwork on your nail, and then he proceeds to attempt to paint his own finger too, but it’s harder for him when he attempts to use his non-dominant hand to paint. A disgruntled sound emits from his mouth, eyebrows furrowing as you grab the nail polish from his hand to do it yourself.

“I should have known you would betray me for you man,” You hear Sohee dramatically sigh as she approaches the both of you, Jungkook sticking his tongue out at her as she rolls her eyes.

Even though you and Sohee had spent at least another good twenty minutes in that store, your boyfriend didn’t mind as he held your hand the whole time, sometimes hugging you from behind and leaning his head on your shoulder as your best friend clearly annoyed from the third-wheeling.

a/n: hello!! i kinda wrote this in a rush without really planning so it might not be the best but its really short anyways haha, i realised i havent been putting a note at the end of my fics recently 😭 and i want to talk with you guys more! i also def need more inspo to write more scenarios so if you guys have any pleasee send an ask to me ❤️

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook comfort #boyfriend jungkook

[ravenromanova]

On the run

Pairings: Bounty hunter Nat x Thief female reader

warnings: Mentions of death, knives, kidnapping, SMUT 18+!!! (Thigh riding, face sitting, oral, fingering, squirting)

Word count: 3.8k+

Summary: Natasha is hired to kidnap you. But when she finds out why will she be able to do it? (I’m sorry this is so late!)

Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

Breaking into The White Wolfs office building was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. You picked the lock and ran upstairs without being detected as fast as possible. When you finally found the office labeled “James Barnes” you smiled to yourself and picked the lock. You were able to hack into his computer very easily thanks to your fathers teachings.

Scanning through all the files you smile when you find exactly what you were looking for. You clicked on the filed named ‘The winter project’ and after a quick confirmation that it was indeed the filed you needed, you put your usb into the computer and downloaded the data.

Once the data uploaded you took the drive and put it in your pocket before exiting out of the computer and shutting it down. You opened one of the large windows in the office and housed your grappling hook to scale down the building. You mentally give yourself a high-five as you get into your car and drive back to your apartment which was 5 hours away from the city. And that night you fell asleep peacefully to the sounds of crickets and smiled knowing your plan was in motion.

The next day you got ready as normal and went about your day as you normally do. But as you were walking around town you felt as if someone or something was watching you. It wasn’t until you were walking around the farmers market that you knew for a fact that someone was following you.

You noticed a flash of red which you assumed was the persons hair color as you bought some strawberries. After you paid the lady you wanted to really confirm your suspicions, so you walked down an alleyway. And when you did you heard another set of footsteps. Slyly you grabbed the 3inch blade that was in your belt loop and turned around and held it to the persons throat.

“Fuck” The woman muttered as her head hit the brick wall behind her. You pressed the blade into her throat more as she grunted in pain.

“Why are you following me?” You spit out at the woman and she pushes you off of her before catching her breath to speak.

“I was trying to capture you.” She says in between gasps of air.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes went wide. “Capture me! I dont even know you! why the hell would you want to take me” You ask as you grip the handle of your blade tighter ready to attack if needed.

“Because i was paid 2 million dollars to” The woman responds as she walks up closer to you. It’s at this time that you really get to notice her features. Her eyes are a light shade of green, She has light brown freckles that litter her cheeks and you cant help but get captivated by her.

You’re soon snapped out of your thoughts as she goes to grab your hand to take you with her. You pull away from her and draw your knife to her throat again before she kicks out your knee and pins you.

“You’re either coming with me willingly or we can do this my way where i knock you out” She huffs trying to catch her breath again.

“What!? Who hired you?” You question as you attempt to free yourself of her hold. She smiles a little evilly at your question and you just grow more confused.

“Did you really think you could break in and steal information from the white wolf and him not know?” She quips and just kinda laughs at her own question.

“Well maybe if he wasn’t a killer i wouldn’t want to steal his information and take him down.” The words come out a little broken as they come out and the woman definitely notices.

“Well your vendetta against him isn’t my concern all i know is that i was hired to bring you to him so he can deal with you himself.” The woman says and she then takes your hand and handcuffs you to her.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” You yell at her and she just simply shrugs and stands up pulling you with her.

“This way i dont lose you” And with that she’s tugging your arm making you walk beside her. At this point you dont even know if you should try to run away since she seems to be much stronger and quicker than you.

“So you’re seriously going to hand me over to someone you know is a gonna kill me the second you deliver me” Her facial expression falters slightly at your words but she keeps walking. You roll your eyes and just huff as she doesn’t respond still trying to think of a way to get out of this.

After walking for what feels like thirty miles out of town you finally make it to what your assume is her car. You look at her confused since you have no idea hoe the hell to get in the car handcuffed.

“Crawl over the drivers seat and sit down. if you think i trust you to willingly get in the car and not run you’re even more insane than i thought.” The woman says and pushes you into the car. You do as you’re told and crawl over the drivers to get into the passenger seat. She followed behind and got into the drivers seat and started the car.

“This is so fucked up” The words are barley audible as they leave your lips. As she drives off you just stare out the window with your left arm strained as she drives. At this point you fully give into your situation and come to terms with it.

~an hour later~

As you stared out the window as the car was filled with silence. Neither you or the woman spoke to each other for nearly an hour until you felt the car come to a halt.

“Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?” You ask looking out the window and seeing just a bunch of nothing where you are.

“Because we ran out of gas” The redhead slams her hands on the steering wheel in frustration and in turn pulls your arm with her.

“ow! could you be a little more careful” She rolls her eyes at your statement and mumbles a ‘sorry’ “What are we supposed to do now? We are in the middle of nowhere with no gas and the nearest gas station isn’t for at least another fifty miles” She just groaned at your words. The next few minutes are silent as the woman tries to come up with a plan.

“Well i guess we are gonna attempt to hitchhike or find a place to crash for the night.” And with that she’s pulling your arm as she gets out of the car and you obviously follow.

“This is ridiculous if you had just let me go we wouldn’t be here.” You huff and try crossing you arms but fail.

“You know i still dont even know your name random woman who kidnapped me” She laughs at you remark as she grabs a bag from her trunk before she starts walking off.

“Well i didn’t think we’d be around each other for long but plans change” She replies as you two reach a dirt road to follow. “It’s Natasha” The woman adds with a little hint of a smile on her face.

“It’s pretty” You admit looking at Natasha and she blushes a little.

“Thanks- uh try and see if you have any service and if you do try to find the nearest motel if possible” Nat said clearly changing the topic of conversation. Pulling out your phone you squeal when you see you have on bar. Quickly you go to look up a motel and see one fifteen miles away.

“There’s one fifteen miles down this road should take about an hour or two” You point north and she nods and you both just walk in silence.

The sun goes down as you both tread to the motel and luckily it’s autumn in new york so it’s not hot. Neither of you speak unless you’re giving her directions which wasn’t often. You did however notice how gorgeous the woman was. Granted she was literally delivering you to deaths door but hey at least she was hot.

Natasha stole glances at you here and there as you walked. For some reason she had a pit of guilt in her stomach. Normally she has no remorse for her bounties since most of them are awful people. But here you were this girl who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly, She couldn’t help but wonder why The White Wolf wanted you dead so bad, What did you steal?

The two hours go by rather quickly even though your legs are indeed killing you. The two of you walk into the lobby of a very shabby motel.

“Hi there! What can i do for you two” The woman at the front desk asks as both of you approach the desk.

“We’d like a room for the night please” You say with a smile and the woman nods and starts typing.

“We have a room with a queen bed for twenty dollars a night will that work dear?” She asks and you look over at Natasha who just shrugs and nods her head.

“Alright dear and if just for the night then it’s twenty even” You nod and pull out your wallet from your pocket but Natasha beat you to it. She gave the woman her card and paid. The woman handed you the room key along with telling you where the room was and you thanked her before walking away.

It was silent as you two walked up the stairs to the second floor. When you reached the door Natasha used the key card to open the door. You walked into the room first and she followed behind. The room wasn’t the worst but it also wasn’t exactly the best. Luckily it was only for a night.

You were quickly reminded of the handcuffs when your left arm got pulled towards the bed and you groaned.

“Okay listen i know you handcuffed us because you think im gonna run but if i promise not to run will you take them off.” Natasha noticed the pleading look in your eyes as you spoke. She was a little hesitant about uncuffing you both, on one hand she didn’t want you to run because if she lost you’d she be dead, and she also kinda liked your presence.

“If you try to escape i don’t hesitate to knock you out understood” She agrees with a stern look and you nod in agreement. When she uncuffs you she notices how you dont move away from her and you just kinda look at her.

“Uh thanks” You finally spoke breaking the trance you were in.

“No problem. Why dont you go take a shower and then we can figure out how to get back to the city later” Natasha said and it’s then you realize you have no clothes and nothing to shower with.

“I would if i had anything to shower with” Pointing to the lack of bags on your hand. She nods her hand and opens the bag she grabbed earlier before you left her car.

“That’s why i brought these.” And with that she hands you a change of clothes and mini toiletries. You thank her and head to the small bathroom and lock the door.

You turn the small shower on as hot as it can go before getting undressed. Setting the clothes on the sink and stepping into the hot shower you sigh in relief as the water runs down your skin.

While your in the shower Natasha has the most infuriating internal struggle she’s ever had. She knows she should bring you to The White Wolf but she can’t help but feel like there’s something that she doesn’t know. She is determined to find out why he wants you dead so bad when you get out of the shower.

After you wash your body you grab one of the towels from the motel and wrap it around your body. You wipe the fog off the mirror before staring at yourself in the mirror. Your mind wanders off to your father and how he would handle this situation, He’d probably would have already killed this woman, You wish you could call him and ask him what to do…But you cant. So with a heavy sigh you put on the oversized t-shirt and shorts before wrapping your hair in the towel and walking out.

When Natasha sees you step out in her clothes her breath hitches in her throat. She takes a moment to study your features and take in how breathtakingly beautiful you are, Your hair that flows past your middle back, How long your eyelashes are, How soft your skin looks-. She cuts her own thoughts off as you sit on the bed next to her.

“Thanks for the clothes” Your voice comes out soft and for a moment you forget that this woman is bringing you to your death. Suddenly you feel a sense of fear and your eyes swell with tears. Natasha notices your change in demeanor and puts two and two together.

“If you dont mind me asking…What did you steal from The White Wolf? Why does he want you dead” Natasha asks as she scoots closer to you and gently holds your hand.

The look you give you give her before you speak can only be described as innocent. “Two years ago my father was killed. He worked for The White Wolf as his second in command for fifteen years. He found out that the White Wolf was planning on conducting illegal human experiments in attempt to make something that he called a super solider. My father said that he would report him to the fbi if he did so and then he executed my father right then and there. I had found out from my brother who worked there as well what happened and since that day i vowed to take him and his entire operation down.” Tears start to fall as you recall your fathers death and you just sit there stuck in the memory.

It’s right then and there that Natasha decides she’s not gonna bring you in. You were innocent, You were just trying top avenge your father she couldn’t bring you to deaths door because of that. She just hugs you after you finish speaking. The action takes you by surprise but you accept it and quickly embrace her back.

“I’m not taking you to him anymore- Now that i know why i-i cant do it” She whispers into your hair and you look up to her and start to cry even more.

“He will kill us both if you dont you know” The words are shaky and broken as they come out. She just shakes her head and puts her finger against your lips.

“I dont care what happens to me. I just wanna keep you safe.” She says honestly and you’re amazed by her. She has only known you for a few hours and yet is risking her life for you.

“Why? You dont even know me…For all you know i could be a serial killer” You joke a little and she laughs and god its the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“I guess you’re right. But i’ve done my research on you Y/n killing doesn’t quite seem like your MO” She teases back and you giggle and reposition yourself against the headboard.

“Yea i guess you’re right but still why are you risking your life for someone you just met?” Natasha looks at you and sits down next to while taking your hand in hers again. Her thumb runs over your knuckles and you get this feeling as if you’ve known her for years. It takes her a moment before she responds as she get lost in the moment herself.

“I see something in you and it makes me want to protect you- i can’t describe it” She confess and your heart swells. Before you can even think about your actions your lips on on hers. Natasha is quick to reciprocate the kiss along with grabbing you and having you straddle her hips. You moan into her mouth as she grinds your hips down on her thigh.

“Fuck me” You whisper into her mouth and she’s quick to leave dark bruises on your neck. After she’s satisfied with the marks she lifts your shift off you and moves to your boobs. She moans when she sees your bare chest and you blush as she grabs the soft skin.

“So pretty Kotenok” The words she speaks makes you groan and grind on her thigh a little faster. She quickly takes a nipple in between her teeth and grazes it lightly before sucking on it.

“Oh fuck Nat-Please fuck me” She doesn’t need much more convincing after that. Natasha flips you both so you are underneath her on your back. She rids you of you shorts and underwear and stares at your bare pussy.

“So fucking pretty” Her voice is deep as she drinks in the sight in front of her. Slowly she makes her way to you slit licking from there to your clit and you let out a soft moan. She focuses on you clit and starts sucking on it at a fast pace. She moans at the taste of you as if its the sweetest thing on the planet.

“Oh fuck yea right- right there” You moan and she adds two fingers into your tight hole and you scream.

“So tight baby so fucking tight” She mutters into your pussy sending vibrations to your clit that makes your back arch. Natasha kitten licks your clit and the teasing of it drives you up a wall. Once she adds the third finger that’s when you really fucking lose it.

“Oh fuck yes YES!” You scream and you swear you can feel her smirk into your pussy as she sucks your clit harder. You can feels your walls pulsate on her fingers as she gives you an unrelenting pace,

“Cum for me baby” She urges picking up the pace and fucks into you harder. You can feel the coil in your stomach grow tighter as you drink up the pleasure coursing through your body. You’ve never felt anything like this before and you know that after this you’ll be ruined for anyone else.

“Fuck-har-harder natty please” Natasha smirks at the nickname and happily obliges and fucks into you at a much harder pace. It doesn’t take long before you’re back in arching and you’re screaming as she kisses your g-spot.

“i-im cumming!” And within thirty seconds you squirt on her fingers and tongue. Natasha groans and continues to lick your pussy clean. When she comes back up for air she sticks her fingers in your mouth.

“Taste yourself baby” And you do as you’re told and swirl your tongue around her three fingers. She pushes them further into your mouth and fucks your throat with them. You gag on her fingers but you dont complain as you relish in this filthy moment. Once you have cleaned her fingers to her liking she takes them out of your mouth and replaces her fingers with her mouth.

“Fuck baby you taste so fuckin good” She praises in between kisses and you moan out a thank you in response.

“I wanna taste you too” A hint of mischief hidden on your words as you scoot down on the pillow. She takes the hint and rids herself of her pants, before she places herself around your head and settles her pussy down on your mouth.

You wrap your hands around her thighs and push her onto your tongue. She grinds her hips on your face and moans as your lips suck on her clit.

“Oh fuck baby” She moan and her hands tangle themselves in your hair as you continue sucking. You quickly add a finger into her already dripping pussy and that drives her crazy. She’s quick to fuck herself as much as she can on your finger. You moan in satisfaction as you feel her clench around your finger, when you add another one Natasha practically screams at the stretch.

“Fuck baby im gonna cum” Her words feel like a challenge to you and in that moment you want to make her cum more than anything. You add a third finger while nipping and sucking on her clit. Her walls clench on your fingers as you hit her g-spot.

“FUCK!” Natasha screams as she cums on your fingers and tightens her grip on your hair. She falls on the bed next to you as she tries to catch her breath. You roll over on your side and look at her fucked out face and smile.

You cuddle into her side and run your hand under her shirt in soothing motions. “That was amazing” You confess and she looks at you with a dopey smile on her lips.

“Agreed” She says and wraps an arm around you waist. The two of you stay like this for a moment not caring about aftercare right now. The silence is nice as you both enjoy each other’s presence.

“So what happens now?” Your voice is the first one to break the silence. Natasha lets out a sigh and rubs her hand over your hip.

“Well i have a plan but it’s not exactly that well thought out” She admits as you look up to meet her gaze. You nod as a sign for her to continue. “Why dont we just take the money and run? We can go anywhere you want, and we can change our names so The White Wolf doesn’t find us and we make a life together-“ Your eyes widen at her words and she takes that a sign that she’s being crazy and that there’s no way you’ll agree to this.

“Unless you think its a stupid idea, Because in that case ill split the money with you and we can go our separate ways” The words come out anxious and shaky and you shake your head and put your finger to her lips like she did earlier.

“Let’s do it” You smile “Lets be on the run together.” After the words come out Natasha smiles and kisses you with more passion than before.

Being on the run with the woman who was hired to kidnap you? Definitely not what you had on your yearly bingo card but hey… at least you aren’t dead.

~The end~

I do not give permission for my work to be translated or posted on other sites

#natasha romanoff #ravenromanova #natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x reader smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x female reader smut #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha romanova #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel x reader

[myosotisa]

deep end - s.h.

Steve Harrington x Reader

‖ summary: You and the gang have a pool day and some bad memories come up.

‖ tags: angst, hurt with very little comfort, post season 4, everyone lives (but that don't mean they ain't got trauma lmao), no y/n, no pronouns, reader is referred to as "honey". depictions of PTSD, anxiety/panic attacks. tw for fear of drowning. past tense? present tense? the fic is tense, that's for sure.

‖ word count: 2k

Today, May 6th, 1986, was a good day.

Up until very recently, most of the days had not been good at all. Spring break had done a number on all of you – nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks. Some worse than others.

But today was a good day.

At least, until it wasn't.

Summer sun had invaded Hawkins and left everyone sweating and seeking shade after even a few minutes outside. AC blasted indoors and opened windows begged for a breeze to come through and bring some solace from the heat. The community pool was packed shoulder to shoulder and nearly impossible to get into – but that was fine.

Because Steve Harrington had his own pool.

Eddie, Lucas, Dustin, and Max were all already in the suburban backyard by the time you showed up with Robin. Steve had joined the other boys in the shallow end to start up a game of chicken – Dustin on Steve’s shoulders and Lucas on Eddie’s. Max sat on the pool’s edge with the water up to her shins, not able to get in further with the cast still on her right arm, and rolled her eyes as her friends tumbled over and into the water just to get back up again.

Robin went to go and sit by Max while you let yourself into the Harrington home, a container of drinks destined for the fridge just inside. By the time you had them chilling and pushed back out into the oppressive heat, Steve had pulled himself out of my pool to wait for you.

“Hi honey,” he said with a sticky sweet smile, ducking in to press a kiss to your cheek and dripping water on your cover-up.

“Hey handsome,” was your easy reply, Steve's smile lighting up further at the compliment. You called him handsome all the time and he still reacted like he'd never heard it before.

“Harrington, come on!”

His smile fell slightly as he rolled his eyes, shrugging at you before jogging back over to the pool.

You were just about to pull out your book and set up on one of the deck chairs when Nancy and Mike pushed through the fence gate.

More happy greetings, a hug from Nancy, and some chatting about the things she'd brought with her. Mike stripped off his shirt and shoes before walking over to the pool steps beside Max, submerging to his chest as he watched the others continue their game.

Robin came over and helped you and Nancy blow up the 3 inner tubes she had brought – Robin having to rescue you both with her superior musicians lungs. She quickly claimed the green dinosaur float, falling into it in the water as Dustin and Mike started to squabble over what kind of dinosaur it was supposed to be.

While you had originally grabbed the unicorn float, with it's pink hair and blue horn, you were quick to notice the longing glances from Nancy and offered a trade. She never would've ended up asking for it – she thought it was too childish to actually want the unicorn float – but you didn't miss the giddy grin on her face as she traded with you and settled into the pool a lot more gracefully than Robin.

So, with your strawberry frosted donut float and book in hand, you laid out on the sticky plastic and began to roast beneath the summer sun.

You and Nancy both had paperbacks cracked open while Robin seemed content to attempt a nap beneath her shades. Max busied herself by using a foot to gently push your floats around like a slow and lazy game of bumper cars. Mike finally succumbed to peer pressure and joined in with the boys playing with a volleyball toward the deep end and everything was good.

Everyone was smiling and laughing. Warm and lazy with the heat of a good, summer day.

Focused on a particularly intense chapter, you hardly noticed someone approaching your float until a wet chin draped itself over your arm.

Steve was looking at you with that lovesick smile again, his hair wet and pushed back as his tan skin glowed beneath the golden rays. “Enjoying your book?”

“I am, thank you very much.” But still, you placed it down on your stomach and turned your attention to your pretty boyfriend. “Are you having a good day?”

“Might have a couple bruises tomorrow, but not a big deal.” He hooks a wet arm over the side of your float, anchoring himself to you, and the skin along your thigh breaks out in goosebumps from the sudden brush of water.

“Steve, that's cold!”

He barely conceals a laugh, grin growing wider, before he tilts further toward you. “What, this?”

Was the only warning you got before he shook his head out like a dog, water flying from the ends of his hair and sprinkling all over you.

You nearly squealed, shoving him off and shouting about him getting your book wet, even though the smile on your face betrayed you.

After a few minutes of insisting it was funny as you fake pouted, and then Steve giving you some pathetic puppy dog eyes, you accepted his half hearted apology and settled again – one hand intertwined with Steve's as he held onto your float.

“Nance seems fine,” he said quietly, bringing your attention to the brunette. You had told him earlier you were worried about today, about bringing her back to the pool she spent two years barely able to look at, but she seemed perfectly at ease on her unicorn float. Just slowly turning page after page as she continued through the fantasy romance novel you’d lent her last week.

“Yeah,” you agreed, exhaling a relieved sigh, “I'm glad. She deserves it, y'know? We all do.”

Steve's hand squeezed yours, bringing your attention back to him on your other side. “You're the best, you know that, right?”

Not expecting the compliment, you got slightly flustered with the praise. “No, that's you,” you joked with a light flick to the tip of his nose.

He released your hand in mock offense, pushing your float slightly away as he put on a dramatic frown. He inhaled to reply, mouth parting, before he suddenly disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

The next few moments played out in slow motion.

In reality, Lucas and Eddie dove under the water to sneak up behind Steve – each of them grabbing an ankle and tugging him under as a practical joke.

To Steve, his heart stopped.

His chest constricted as his heart rate doubled, eyes squeezing shut as the panic gripped him tight and he waited to be pulled through the gate and thrown out on the other side.

Water filled his mouth from his half completed inhale as he was dragged under – his eyes widening and immediately beginning to burn from the chlorine.

But he wasn't in the pool anymore. It was dark; so, so dark and cold. He couldn't see anything through the murky water as he sunk lower and lower. The vice around his ankle held tight as he gave a kick, continuing to pull him back down to hell again.

To you, the world flipped on its side.

The last thing you saw before Steve went under was a flash of panic in his wide, brown eyes. Just like that night, on the boat. When he got dragged down and didn't come back up again.

“Steve?!” Your call is shrill, very quickly panicked as your adrenaline surged and your body tensed for a fight. It gets the attention of the rest of the group but you don't notice – eyes hyper focused on the spot he was before he disappeared.

In reality, you could glance down and see him in the clear water, just barely a foot below the surface. But you're not there in the Harrington’s pool. You're on a boat at Lover’s Lake and the man of your dreams just disappeared into the murky depths below.

“Steve?!” You scream again, rolling off your float and into the cool water, just like you had that night. I have to go after him, I have to get to him.

You vaguely register someone calling your name but you’re diving under, eyes burning instantly as you continue to look at Steve.

Eddie and Lucas have let him go now after sensing some sort of commotion from above, but Steve isn't moving. He isn't trying to swim up, though he is slowly ascending toward the surface. He's completely frozen there in the water, curled in on himself defensively.

You grab him and he grabs you in response, his nails digging into your bicep painfully as his eyes shoot open again. He doesn't even seem to realize its you before the two of you break the surface again.

Steve gasps for air – choking slightly on the water that was still in his mouth – and then starts to cough as he grabs tightly to you with both hands.

Your heart is pounding against your ribs like a hummingbird as your eyes rapidly scan him for the battered bruising across his throat, the blood coming from his mouth. “Steve? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

Robin is by your side an instant later, her head and shoulders still dry as she comes around the side to place a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder while he coughs out chlorinated water.

Steve gives a stuttered nod as the coughing stops and he's able to take another deep breath in, his grip on you loosening to not be so painful as he closes his eyes. His inhales are coming through quickly, his eyebrows drawn together tight like he's in pain.

Your tunnel vision begins to scope out and you catch sight of Lucas and Eddie looking pained and apologetic in your periphery. They're both treading water in the deep end as you turn on them, anxiety and panic filtering out quickly into rage.

“What the fuck is your problem, huh?!” You snap, causing both of them to jump. Lucas's eyes are wide as saucers and Eddie looks like he's half tempted to book it just from the look on your face. “What the fuck kind of trick was that?! Maybe I should pull a gun on you, Lucas, just for fun. Or maybe, Eddie, I'll loop a rope around your neck for a few minutes and see how the fuck you like being reminded of almost dying!”

Both of them wince, drawing back from your outrage, which only makes you want to advance.

“H-honey,” Steve stutters beside you, half scolding and half terrified as he tries to put on a brave face. “It was just a joke.”

You turn your wild eyes back on him, body still reeling in fight or flight mode, as you realize his hands are trembling and the wetness to his eyes isn't from the pool at all. While you could easily continue to scream at them (which, when you're in a rational headspace again, you will feel guilty for), you focus in on Steve.

“Come on, let's go get you dried off, okay?” You offer much quieter, hovering close to him to try to keep you both grounded. He gives another shaky nod and lets you lead him over to the steps and out of the pool.

No one in the group says a word as you wrap him in a towel and then drape one over your own shoulders before sitting both of you down on one of the deck chairs. He continues to tremble slightly beside you as you tuck yourself tightly to his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you try to comfort him (and yourself).

We’re safe here. We’re okay. We’re going to be fine.

Everyone else watches silently as your paperback continues to collect water until it sinks down to the bottom of the deep end.

It was a good day. Until it wasn't.

-

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#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #myos ideas #myo4harrington

[callsignmarz]

‼️MDNI‼️ - Keegan P. Russ x Y/N | Fem

“Claim Me.”

"Just grow a pair and go talk to him." Keegan insisted, slamming the door to a humvee, clearly checked out from the conversation.

"That's not how nature works, Keegan." You riposted, turning your attention back to Logan, who was currently across the motor pool, chatting to a few other soldiers.

It was no secret that you had a little crush on Logan Walker.

Whenever he was in the area, you felt like a teenager again with her first school crush. Just the sight of him made your cheeks flush a light shade of pink and your knees ready to buckle. And If Keegan had to sit and listen to how fine of a man Logan was one more time, he swore to himself that he will end it all, right then and there.

"Besides, I'd rather just...you know, let things...happen..? Yeah. Let's just go with that."

Keegan raises an eyebrow, shaking his head, unconvinced by your sad attempted claim.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Keegan makes his way over to the mobile toolbox that you've been leaning on for the past half hour — instead of helping him like he asked you in the first place.

Sensing you needed a little help in the love department, out of the kindness of his cold grinch heart, he gives you some words of advice.

"Standing on the sidelines isn't going to get you far, y/n. A man likes it when a woman takes charge. It's hot as fuck, actually." Keegan galled, giving you a friendly wink. He obnoxiously clicks a pen that he had tucked behind his ear and retrieves the clipboard next to your elbow, scribbling down the required maintenance notes.

He had a point though.

But you would never admit that, especially with how vulgar he put it.

So, you just roll your eyes in protest. "Is that so? Then tell me this. Since when did you become such a 'Love Guru?' Last time I checked, you still had trouble finding yourself a girlfriend." You implored the 'notorious' ladies man.

He hands you the clipboard and you promptly grab ahold of it. You watch him lift up the hood of the truck with one arm as if it weighed nothing.

Why did anything he did always had to be so..?

"That's where you're wrong, Sweetheart. I'm not looking for a girlfriend. Just looking for a good time." He chuckles dryly.

"You're vile." Your face contorts in disgust, but he just shrugs off your jab.

"I've been called worst, Sweetheart."

The sound of a boot scuffling against the gravel, pulls your attention away for a moment and your heart flutters when you realize Logan was standing a few feet beside you.

Okay. Act normal, Y/N...what the fuck is normal!?

"What's up, kid?" Keegan greets cooly, snapping you out of your head.

Tearing himself away from the vehicle, Keegan and Logan clasps their hands together, briefly pulling each other in, bumping shoulders before releasing one another.

"Let me guess, causing trouble?" Keegan quipped as he folded his arms across his chest.

Logan gives a friendly smile, his voice came out a smooth baritone, "Always." He flicks his gaze to you, with eyes now wide and mouth agape with incredulity.

"Who's your friend, Russ?" Logan asks as he gives you a once-over look, intrigued and wondering why he hasn't seen you before.

"This is y/n. She more of a thorn in my ass than a friend." Keegan half-jokingly introduces while giving you a look that says 'Now's your chance.'

Clearing your throat of all the cobwebs that formed within the few minutes, you extend your right hand as you give him a quick run down, "Sergeant Y/N L/N, PCS'd from Fort Wainwright about a month or two ago." Logan listens intently, taking ahold your hand with a firm grip and a surge electricity to shoots through your body.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sarge. Alaska must've been one hell of an experience." He mused with his dark caramel eyes locked in on yours. Slowly, Logan lets go of your hand, but purposely allows his touch to linger.

"I'm surprised you didn't go AWOL." He chorkles.

Slightly shrugging your shoulder and batting your lashes, you pick up on his subtle cues.

"There were days where I was tempted to, but I'm pretty good at being on the straight and narrow." You say coy-like with a smile that matched your tone.

"Good, good. But, hey! I actually have to get going, but uh...You should stop by later tonight and we can finish up this conversation. What do you say?" Logan asks with a quizzical smile, his teeth were pearly white and straight, just the way you like them.

Your mouth gaps open slightly, surprised by how fast everything was moving. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you weren't in a dream but the look from Keegan was an obvious indication this was no dream. Far from, actually.

"Uh, y-yeah. I don't mind." You finally answered.

"Cool...See you then, y/n."

With that, Logan walks off with your eyes following him until he's no longer in sight. You then whip around, almost tripping over your own feet, turning to Keegan and exploding with screeches of excitement.

"Did that actually happen!?" You squeal, rushing over to vigorously shake Keegan's shoulder.

Swatting your hands away, Keegan keeps his eyes forward as he tick in his jaw serves as a seedling of jealously that grew and bloomed a vibrant sprig of green.

"Yes. Now can I get back to work?" He sneers in frustration, retreating his focus back to the engine of the truck.

⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆

As painful as it was to your ego, you take Keegan's advice and with newfound determination eddied in your irises, you come up with an idea.

A man likes when a girl takes charge.

Keegan's voice resounds in your head. The heedful reminder causes your eyes to roll into the back of the your skull. Then your attention shifts back to your reflection. Surveying your outfit one last time as you twist and pose your body in the mirror making sure you were up to par.

Adjusting your black crop top so it flattered your boobs and the ripped up mom-jeans you wore were loose but they hugged you curves just enough to accentuate the roundness of your ass.

And underneath...a matching set of magenta laced lingerie.

There was no way you were not getting laid.

It was a quarter until midnight. The plan was you were going to sneak into Logan's room undetected and surprise him in his bed.

As crazy as it sounds — it was foolproof.

Like, what man wouldn't dream of a woman, as feral as you were, crawling into their bed in the middle of the night?

Right?

After applying the last layer of your clear lemon flavored lipgloss, you roll your plumped lips together followed by a loud suckered pop and you set out on your mission, making a swift exit out the door.

Approaching his quarters, you had to move quickly and quietly. You discreetly reach into your bra and redeemed a simple black bobby-pin.

Good ole reliable.

Throughout the years you've served in the military, you were taught a lot of different things. Tactical insertion being one of them. You knew how to breach any area. From battering rams to hacking security systems but, none that required something so mundane as a hair accessory.

While you expertly pick the lock, you kept your head on a swivel, making sure no one spots you committing this heinous act.

Once you hear the audible click, the corners of your mouth lifted into a confident smile.

Getting up to your feet, you casually make entry.

First thing you noticed was the overpowering smell of cedar wood. Coughing up a lung, you came to the conclusion that the air quality in here was 99.9 percent cologne and that last .1 being oxygen.

Getting past that, it was also rather dark.

Carefully waving your hand around, you try your best not to crash into anything. Eventually, you find yourself bumping into his bedpost, startling Logan out of his sleep and the same familiar baritone voice calls out in surprise, "What the fu—Y/n?"

"Wait! Shh...Just listen, please!" You say right away, hoping it'll calm him down.

"I know this is a bit crazy but just...listen. Okay? I've had a crush on you for a while now and I don't want to blend in with the other girls. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is," You swallow hard, your tone drops to barely a whisper, rolling your lips together as you crawled your way into his bed.

"Just let it happen."

In the dark, your lips find his, silencing any doubt or apprehension from leaving his mouth. A bolt of electricity shoots throughout your body, awakening the longing desire within you.

Not only was he surprised by your assertiveness but it came as a shock to you as well. Being an introvert, you wouldn't have guessed in a million years that you would've be the one to make the first move — all thanks to Keegan.

Logan's lips end up prying your lips apart, deepening the kiss with his tongue, ravishingly exploring your mouth and eliciting soft moans to muffle out as your mouth moves in sync with his.

His rough hands snake their way to your waist before hauling you over onto of him.

Your breath hitches when he breaks away from the kiss and his nose creeps up alongside your throat. Once he finds the most sensitive spot, his mouth latches onto your skin, nipping and sucking until little plum colored splotches decorate your neck.

The two of you wasted no time tearing the clothes off each other. The lingerie you wore for show, unfortunately went unnoticed as it was discarded just like the rest of your wardrobe.

You felt a firm grip on your left breast, before you were greeted by the warmth of his mouth. Not only did Logan have a pretty smile, but he knew what to do with it as his tongue swirled and his teeth gently gnawed on your erect nipple.

A symphony of orchestral moans filled the room.

The sexual connection and burning passion between you two was undeniable.

It was as if this moment was supposed to happen.

As if the two of you were meant to come together and become one.

A dream verging to come true.

Digging your nails into his back, you align him up against you seeping cunt, slowly slipping his swollen cock inside. A small whine of pleasure leaves your lips as you allow your slick walls to accommodate and adjust to his size.

"Ride me, beautiful." He rasped, his tone dripping with ascendancy and urgency.

Like flipping a switch, your back arches, rolling your hips and taking your time descending down only to spring back up when you couldn't fit any more of him.

His size was impeccable.

Your ex wasn't even close to the size and length that Logan held and from the one night stands you've had in the past, they could barely last two whole minutes.

You were in for one hell of a joy ride.

Logan's hand creeps its way from your navel, up and between your breasts to wrap around your throat accordingly.

Taking back control, he bucks his hips, crashing them underneath your thighs, barbarously driving himself deeper into your tight pussy. With your hands on his chest, you prop yourself to hover your ass over him as he kept his unwavering assault.

"Yes, yes, yes! God fuckin—Please don't stop." You whine breathlessly.

"Does the princess want to cum all over my cock?Mmm...such a needy little whore, you are..." He growls, his tone edging you closer to unraveling.

Your body felt as though God sent an angel down just to solemnly fulfill your sinful needs, relieving you of your last unholy act, right before your soul ascends to the heaven's gates.

Delirium intoxicates and overwhelms your senses, clenching your silky walls around his otherworldly cock, urging him to spill his load inside.

"Keep it coming and drown my cock. Fuck...I'm about to cum...Say my name, baby." He grits through his teeth, his thrust becoming more erratic by the second.

As your moans grow louder, your body quivers, riding the wave of your own insatiable orgasm.

"Oh God, Yes! Logan!" You screamed his name.

Your lips collided with his own as he lets out a deep groan. The heat of his load erupts and pulsated deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim. You slide off of him, allowing the contents to pour out of you. The two of you pant and gasp for air, coming down from the euphoric high of your releases while your bodies entangled together.

If you had to be honest, he was more than good, probably the best sex you've ever had.

Silence fills the void with the lingering scent of sex in the air.

Without saying a word, Logan sits up, detangling from your arms and walks out of the room then returns with a towel in hand.

Your eyes strain trying to make out his features as an unsettling tension builds between you two.

"Lo—" You say faintly, making an effort to comfort him.

However he sharply cuts you off, "Lemme stop you right there." His tone dripping with grimness.

Your face twists, utterly confused, watching his dark silhouette walk over to a drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats to slip in.

"I was bound to break it to you one way or another." He says sardonically, scuffling his way across the room, flicking on the light and blurring your vision temporarily until it steadily returns to adjust to your surroundings.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sweetheart. But unfortunately I'm not your knight and shining armor." He says with a disdained sniff.

Your mouth flops open, struggling to form any sentence, but ultimately one phrase rolls off your tongue.

"What the fuck..."

The .1 percent of oxygen left in the air was sucked out the room completely, leaving you to suffocate on the distressed revelation.

The love story you'd hope for came crashing down hard. Once again, he was right about one thing...

He was no Prince Charming.

He was Keegan motherfucking Russ..

#call of duty fanfic #call of duty #call of duty imagine #keegan p russ #cod mw2 #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ smut #keegan russ x you #keegan cod #mw2 imagine #fanfic #Spotify

[izurou]

you can’t sleep, and so kento can’t either.

it’s a recurring theme. you toss and turn, turn and toss, and being the light sleeper he is—kento will wake up.

he always attempts to lull you back into a slumber though, even if he is only twenty percent aware of his surroundings. one of his arms will reach out to your side and pull you close upon discovery, more or less restricting any further movement on your end as he keeps you in place with his strength.

ten minutes pass, followed by fifteen, twenty five, half an hour—and all you get is the overflow of his seemingly endless supply of body heat, which in turn, just makes your dream of a good night’s rest—or what’s left of it, even more unattainable.

you slip out of his grasp—mumbling something about getting a glass of water from the bathroom—or using the kitchen? he isn’t entirely sure. even so, you’ve pulled this stunt enough times for him to know you won’t be back anytime soon.

so he forces himself out of bed and steps into the pair of sandy brown slippers he keeps by the door—dragging them against the hardwood floors as he joins you downstairs.

“you can’t do this every time,” he mutters over his shoulder��filling your little kitchen with the steady sound of his spoon as it clinks against the sides of his mug. “you do know that, right?”

he’s cute like this—little blonde tufts sticking out all over his head, a faint red indentation wrapping around the arm he was passed out on, and the subtlest hint of annoyance woven into his words—a watered down version of the tone satoru is often on the receiving end of.

“why not?” you ask, sweet and innocent—you’re not hurting anyone—well, maybe yourself in the grand scheme of things, but that has nothing to do with him, right?

“don’t you think it’d make more sense to, i don’t know,” he pauses, lifting the cup to his lips for a quick sip before turning around. “try to sleep?”

“no,” you say, mimicking his movements as you reach for your own cup—chamomile tea he made for you. “sometimes you just have to get up and move around.”

“yeah?” a puff of air leaves his nose—something resembling a laugh as he hides his growing smirk behind his coffee. “looks like you’re doing a lot of moving, sweetheart.”

well, he isn’t wrong, you’ve been leaning against the kitchen island this whole time—at no fault of your own though, because kento insisted on making the beverage himself.

“you know what i meant,” you grumble, giving him a rather unsavoury glare.

he just hums in agreement, pushes himself off of the edge of the counter, and settles in next to you—same exact position, better company.

“something on your mind?” he asks, knowing full well that your brain is often the culprit on nights like these.

“nothing major,” you reply, “just wondering why you put creamer in my tea.”

flavoured creamer to be exact—tasting vaguely of peppermint, something you’d only expect to find in store around the holiday season. why kento has it now will have to remain a mystery.

“i did?” he furrows his brows, craning his neck to peek into your cup—and sure enough, the liquid is a much lighter shade of brown than it should be.

you didn’t say anything of course, seeing as he was nice enough to do it for you—but apparently, not conscious enough to do it well.

“mhm, it’s,” you pause—bringing the rim of the cup to your lips, reluctantly letting the concoction slide down your throat, and over exaggerating the disgusted face you make in the process. “t’s really bad, maybe you should’ve let me do it.”

“tch, don’t give me that,” he huffs, though he just can’t seem to fight the grin that bullies it’s way onto his lips.

“give you what?” you ask, as innocent and sweet as always—even despite the pout on your face.

“that,” he clarifies, pressing a finger against the apple of your cheek, which consequently replaces your pout with a pretty smile—and maybe, this is worth more than the sleep he’s missing out on.

you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into the warmth of his chest—ironic, you know—but it’s much different when you’re not buried under the blankets. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

you remain like this for a few minutes, and he’s silent, incredibly so—with his chin resting atop your head and his hands holding your waist. you can’t make out the sound of his breath, nor the beat of his heart—did he die up there?

“ken?” you poke him, searching for a sign of life.

“hm?” he jolts a little, seemingly coming back to his senses on contact. well, he’s not dead—just sleepy, and totally giving himself away.

you might not be able to sleep, but kento can—he just chooses not to, for your sake.

#izurou #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami <3 i miss him sob

[spider-stark]

Anti-Hero // Hero x Villain Trope // pt. 2 //

Previous Part

Summary - Reader and Peter are both living double lives. Spider-Man is considered a national hero, while the reader is viewed as a criminal. In their personal lives, they're both head over heels for one another, their friendship finally blossoming into something more. But as vigilantes? It's complicated

Warnings - Blood, mentions of kidnapping/abuse, knife violence,

Word Count - 4.6k

Your foot bounced against the footrest of the barstool you were sat in, your patience wearing thinner and thinner with each passing minute. Another glance at your phone as it laid face up on the counter, confirming that it had now been twenty-five minutes past when you and Peter were supposed to meet. 

Five more minutes, you told yourself, only five. 

Peter Pan’s doorbell chimed as soon as the thought crossed your mind, as if Peter knew that you were getting painfully close to assuming that he had ditched you. 

“Y/n!” He sounded like he had run several blocks just to get here, gasping for breath as he jogged over to where you sat. Your foot stilled at the sight of him, the anxiety of being stood-up immediately dissipating. 

He slid onto the stool beside you, still struggling to steady his breathing. You grinned at him, and the sight only made his lungs feel tighter. “You’re late, Parker.” 

A knowing tone, yet so light and playful, and it somehow held the power to wash away all the defeats he had faced today. It was one of the things Peter loved most about you, the way that you could melt all of his stress away, without even lifting a finger. 

“I’m sorry.” He choked the apology out between labored breaths, his body finally settling enough to let him try to speak. 

While Peter hadn’t run several blocks to get here, he did frantically swing a few dozen blocks, his muscles screaming out in pain the entire time. He was thankful that the annoying girl from earlier had been telling the truth when she said he would recover from the toxin, but he only managed to regain control over his motor skills with enough time to change clothes and come straight to Peter Pan’s to meet you. 

She also could have mentioned that he would feel like he got hit by a bus afterwards. 

“I started to think you were standing me up.” You admitted. 

“Never!” Peter blurted the word out, squinting slightly under the fluorescent lights that only added to the pounding in his head. “Today just felt kind of… paralyzing, I guess.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own pun, knowing it would fly right over your head. “Had a hard time getting myself moving.” 

Concern suddenly washed over your features, brows pulling together. “Do you feel sick or something?” 

You didn’t wait for his answer, leaning forwards on your stool and placing the back of your hand against his forehead. The sudden contact had a blush creeping up his neck, his face beginning to turn red. “You do feel a bit warm.” You hummed with a frown. “You should’ve texted me if you didn’t feel good, we could’ve rescheduled.” 

“No!” Another too-quick response, only deepening the crimson shade now painting his cheeks.“I feel great, promise.” He awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less, well, excitable. “Just a rough day, ya know? Nothing worth rescheduling over! But I’m still really sorry that I’m late.” 

Peter already wanted nothing more than to throw that sorry criminal in jail, if not for being a thief than for attempting to ruin his plans with you. God, they knew just how to get under his skin. He tried to shake the thoughts of them from his mind, wanting to focus entirely on you, his mind free of irritating distractions. 

Today might have kicked his ass, but there was no way he would miss out on coming to see you. He struggled to make time for ‘Peter Parker’ things while managing to balance his duties as Spider-Man, but when it came to you? He would gladly shove Spider-Man to the side when possible. 

“I get it.” You reassured him, a soft smile that had his heart melting. “My day wasn’t that great either, but that’s just how it goes sometimes, yeah?” 

It really hasn't been a great day for you. Getting away from Spider-Man was the only thing that had gone right today. The job you were on earlier when Spidey had caught up to you ended up being a total bust after faulty intel led to your target getting away before you could even make a move. It threw things off for you—left you without a profit and forced you to evaluate your sources. 

“Well,” you cleared the brief silence between the two of you, “do you wanna get started?” 

Peter only stared at you, those beautiful brown eyes filled with little other than complete confusion as his mind lagged behind. You giggled at how dumbfounded he looked, and while he was slightly embarrassed, he also savored the sound of your laugh. 

“On studying.” You clarified with your index finger tapping against the garishly colored chemistry textbook laid on the counter. “Our test is next week and I really don’t wanna fail Mr. Harrington’s class.” 

Peter’s mouth formed a perfect O shape, his head nodding along as you reminded him of the reason why the two of you were meeting up today. Truth be told, he had been purposely letting himself forget about the ‘study’ part of your study date. 

“Oh, yeah.” He shook his head a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the coffee-stained countertop in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was still blushing. “Sorry, I’m still not all here yet.” 

“We can still reschedule, ya know? If you’re just not feeling up to this right now.” You hesitantly reminded him, silently hoping that he would say no, that he would insist that he stay. It had been days since the two of you made these plans, and you had been looking forward to spending time with him. 

“No, really, I’m fine!” Peter answered your silent pleading, adding a smile. “I think we need to be on page 279.” 

You nodded in response, returning the expression before moving to flick through the pages of the book. 

To be honest, Peter really couldn’t comprehend why you needed his help to pass Harrington’s class. In nearly every other subject you were at the top of your class, serving as one of his biggest academic competitors at Midtown. What he didn’t know, however, was that the only reason you needed his help was because of certain distractions in class. 

Chemistry was the only class the two of you had together, and unfortunately that meant that the majority of it was spent with you staring at the back of Peter’s head and barely listening to a word Mr. Harrington said (too busy daydreaming about what it would be like to run your fingers through his gorgeous wavy hair). Your little crush had ultimately led to you just barely passing the class, which had turned out to be quite convenient, as it served as an excuse to ask Peter for help and get the chance to hangout with him outside of school. 

“Oh c’monnn.” You groaned as you examined the page, immediately filled with dread when you read scientific notation printed in big bold letters. 

“I promise it’s really not that hard!” Peter tried to assure you, hiding his amusement at your dramatic reaction as you pressed your forehead against the book, little sounds of protests still falling from your mouth. “You’ve got this, mkay? I’ve got full faith in you.” 

“As sweet as that is, Parker,” your close proximity to the paper muffled your speech as you refused to face him, “math is actually my arch-nemesis. I’m horrible at it.” 

Besides Spider-Man, you jokingly thought to yourself. 

“It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds though!” Peter continued to make promises that did little to ease your dread. “Let’s just give it a try.” 

You turned your head to the side just a bit, cheek still flush against the book as you looked over at him from the corner of your eye. “Do I even need to know how to do this? Like, if I don’t pursue a career in chemistry, will I ever need to actually understand scientific notation?” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

“Give me an example.” 

“I don’t know, what if you wanna figure out how many drops of water are in a river? You’d need scientific notation.” 

You furrowed your brows at him, although still amused by the response. “Why would I ever wanna know that?” 

Peter’s shoulders lifted into a shrug, an action he swiftly regretted as a burning pain coursed through his forearm, a reminder of the wound he sustained earlier that hadn’t quite healed yet. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Whoa.” You quickly straighten your posture, staring at him cautiously. “Are you good?” 

He forced out a quiet mhm sound as he bit down on the inside of his cheek, desperately hoping the feeling would subside. Peter wasn’t used to his healing abilities being so impaired, yet another side effect of the toxin, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt to be injured. 

“Are you sure?” You asked again, clearly not convinced by his less-than-impressive attempt at hiding his discomfort. “Is it your shoulder or back or something?” 

Peter felt your hand coming towards him, his Spider-senses snapping him out of his current agony as you hovered just inches above the covered wound. He reached out and grabbed your wrist so suddenly that it made you gasp, shocked by how fast he had moved. 

“Sorry.” He apologized, immediately loosening his grip. Your eyes remained wide, the shock still evident alongside a bit of suspicion. “I think I pulled something in my shoulder the other day and it’s still sorta tender to touch, ya know?” 

He already felt guilty for the lie, but it was the best he could come up with to ensure you wouldn’t try to reach for him again. Coming up with lies was already difficult for him, and he had no clue how he’d be able to craft a story for how he ended up with a giant slice taken out of his arm if you found out. 

“You really have the worst luck, don’t you?” You mused, your hand retreating back to your lap as you spoke. “I still have trouble believing that last week you accidentally ran into that streetlight and gave yourself a black eye!” 

Peter laughed nervously, thinking back to the moment. Funny enough, he hadn’t really been lying about that one. Sure, he had been swinging and not running, but he did hit a streetlight. “What can I say? I’m just not the most coordinated.” He fidgeted in his seat, an action you equated to embarrassment. 

In reality, the action had been fueled by anxiety. There had been too many close calls lately, too many instances where he had to make up an excuse for a bruise or a cut or whatever else, especially with the new girl running around. He was running out of lies to tell, and more than that, he was getting tired of having to lie. 

“Well at least try and be more careful, alright?” You teased him, though your concern for him was still evident. While he might’ve hated lying about his injuries, he did quite enjoy the way you’d dote over him whenever you’d discover a new one, always desperate for your affection in whatever way he could receive it. “If I’m gonna pass chemistry then I’m gonna need my tutor in one piece!” 

Peter grinned, returning your teasing tone, “If you’re gonna pass chemistry then you’re gonna need to learn scientific notation.” 

You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, a low groan following suit. “Fine.” You reached for the book, sliding it closer to the two of you while scooting your stool a bit closer to Peter’s. “But you owe me.” 

“I owe you?” He shot you a bewildered stare, struggling not to laugh. 

You nodded. “Mhm.” 

“I’m the one helping you pass chemistry.” He noted, shifting his index finger from himself to you as he spoke. “So technically wouldn’t you be the one that owes me?”  

“Nope. Pretty sure I was right. You owe me.” You feigned complete seriousness, mocking him by pointing your finger in his direction. 

He decided to play along, electing to ignore the fact that you’re just procrastinating studying. “Okay, fine. So what do I owe you?” 

You paused for a moment, a mischievous look appearing on your face, causing Peter to raise a brow at you. “A date.” You declared confidently, taking advantage of the opportunity. “A real one. No school stuff or anything.” 

Peter felt his heart skip in his chest. 

“Deal.” 

Maybe learning scientific notation was worth it.  

Coming to Queens was a risky move, one that you didn’t like to make often. It was one of two places in the city that you liked to avoid—the other being Hell’s Kitchen—in an attempt to try and avoid running into anyone with devil horns or spiderwebs. 

Luckily, your line of work typically kept you out of the ‘problem’ areas of the city. The majority of your targets were New York's wealthiest, the kind of people that wouldn’t so much as dream of stepping foot outside of Manhattan. 

You much preferred meeting them in their own territory, finding it all the more enjoyable to toy with them in the places where they felt safest. But, sometimes, that just wasn’t a possibility for one reason or another. Despite that, bringing your business into Spider-Man’s self proclaimed home territory was always a dangerous move. 

In this case, though, it was unavoidable. 

For months you had kept a close eye on councilman Rupert Fletcher, a man that many others in your circle had tried to go after, only to fail time after time. At first, you struggled to understand how so many accomplished thieves had somehow been stumped on such a painfully average man. 

Despite Fletcher's status as a councilman, he was of little importance, his wealth being the only thing to put a target on his back. On the surface, he lived a rather average life of a man in his position. 

He owned a sizable penthouse on the Upper East Side that he shared with his wife and their french bulldog. A quick peek at his schedule revealed that his weekdays were typically spent in the office, the deviation being an occasional conference. His weekends were always the same, a trip to the country club in Spring Valley to decompress and unwind. 

There were sizable gaps in his schedule, several windows of time where his apartment was left unoccupied, with his weekend trips to the country club and his wife’s recent trip back to her home country for family matters—essentially meaning that Rupert Fletcher was every thief’s wet dream. Yet, even the craftiest of them all came out empty handed, claiming the man’s home was unusually bare. There was nothing of much importance in it, no safes filled with cash, no lavish jewelry. It was painfully basic, appearing as little more than a model home. Every one that dared to go after him all left the same: empty handed. 

You started to think you hit a dead end with him, after questioning every single person in your circle, desperate to dig up something on him. That is until a tiny girl by the name of Red made an offhand comment, one she clearly thought was of little importance. 

“The best I got out of it was this Dukes of Hazzard keychain,” she flashed a disturbing grin, the street lights illuminating the silver caps on her teeth, “better than nothin, right?” 

It was better than nothing. A lot better. 

While the keychain itself was rather stupid and not something you cared about, there had been a dingy key dangling off of it, a tag attached that read: StorageMart #813. At first you considered the thought that it had belonged to Red, but given the fact that a pristine Bugatti key hung alongside it, you quickly decided that it must’ve been Fletchers. 

That same night, you broke into the office of the StorageMart that night, combing through their records until you found payment receipts for unit 813. It hadn’t shocked you when you saw it was purchased under a different last name: Petrov. You recognized it as his wife’s maiden name, a fact learned through your prior research on him. With confirmation that it was his unit, you wasted no time with swiping a key from the utility office and heading straight for the unit. 

Its contents were a mystery to you, your imagination running wild. What could it be? Diamonds? Gold bars? A Dukes of Hazzard boxset? You weren’t sure, and truthfully, you didn’t care all that much as long as it was something of value. You didn’t know what he was hiding in the unit, but what you did know was that Rupert Fletcher was a bad man, and he deserved to pay for it. 

And discovering what he had worked so hard to keep secret only cemented that fact. 

The first thing you saw was a mattress laid out on the cold cement floor, a tattered blanket with the thickness of a sheet of newspaper spread across it. Beside it was a dingy orange bucket, the scent of what was inside practically overwhelming your senses entirely. You almost considered slamming the door shut, almost decided to cut your losses and get out of there before you emptied the contents of your stomach on the floor and left evidence of your presence. 

But then, you heard it. A faint voice, small and fragile, the words in a language you didn’t know. You didn’t need to understand what she said to know who she was, though, to know that you had finally caught Fletcher in his biggest crime of all. 

A bit of gossip tends to go a long way. It took a bit of work to find out where the women in Fletcher’s wife’s inner circle like to hang out, but it turned out to be well worth the struggle as all of them sat amongst themselves at lunch and chatted about how she had been threatening divorce months prior, and their theories of what he had done to her upon finding out, entirely unaware of the listening ear just a table over. A bit more digging led to gaining even more intel on Fletcher’s past tumultuous relationships, only furthering the suspicions. 

“Ms. Petrov?” You purposely opted to avoid use of her married name, hoping that it would indicate to her that you were there to help, not to cause further harm. 

The woman was emaciated and looked as if she were just days away from death, and you struggled to hide your shock. “I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” A promise you intended on keeping. 

A huge part of you wanted to take the story public, to take pictures of the unit before he could destroy any evidence she was here and send it straight to the Daily Bugle. Jameson was an asshole, but he was never one to miss out on a good story. But, despite your desire to see Fletcher’s mugshot on the news, you bit your tongue. 

It wasn’t your story to share. And, even if Petrov had wanted to come clean and expose him to the world, men like Fletcher were rarely forced to deal with the consequences of what they’d done. He was too wealthy, too well-known, too powerful. 

Which was exactly why you were back here in Queens, at the same shabby StorageMart you had pulled Fletcher’s wife from just a few days ago. She was safe, staying in a women's shelter upstate, already beginning to plan her trip back home where she would be away from Fletcher for good. There was just one thing she needed before she could make her escape. 

“Thanks Rupey.” You sang over your shoulder, lazily wiping the ruby stained blade against your pants, “It was a pleasure doing business with ya.” 

He coughed a few obscenities in your direction, but made no move towards you as you headed towards the door of unit 813, too weak to move from where he laid on the floor. Everyone liked to put on a good show at the end, run their mouth just enough to make themselves feel like they put up a fight. You usually ignored it. Usually. 

 “How much did you take?” He spat in your direction, your footsteps falling silent as you paused by the door. 

You didn’t like his tone, the arrogance in his voice, his domineering attitude. You were a bit shocked that he had any snide remarks left in him, and even more shocked that he could even form words after you knocked two of his teeth loose. 

“I took what I needed.” You assured him, your own tone calm and collected in comparison to his. “And then some. Gotta make a profit in this business somehow, Rupe.” 

His wife had told you he would be here tonight, promised that he came by every other day just to chuck some food in her direction and try to convince her to reconsider her decision to leave him. Waiting for him was easy, since she said that Fletcher liked to stick to a tight schedule, and incapacitating him was even easier. 

A quick slash to the forehead, just a half an inch above his brows. It was the easiest way to stun someone, there were enough capillaries in the forehead to cause profuse bleeding that would eventually impair their vision, making it even easier to keep control over the situation. Immobilizing him wasn’t hard either, a quick jab to his right leg, maybe two or so inches deep. Deep enough that the average person wouldn’t be able to keep their weight on it without passing out from the pain, but nowhere deep enough that he would bleed out from the wound. 

After that, it was as easy and slipping his phone out of his pocket, forcing him to use touch-ID to get into his bank account (threatening to cut off someone's thumb makes it quite easy to get them to follow instructions) and then transferring a couple hundred thousand dollars to an untraceable bank account you had a friend set up for his wife. Fletcher had been the one to ruin her life and damn near kill her, it was only fair that he was the one to pay for her new one, especially if that was the only justice she’d ever get. 

“They’re gonna find you–” Fletcher swore, his strained voice growing louder as you moved to open the door, “I have cameras set up in here! There’s cameras all over this fucking property! The cops are gonna find you!” 

You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, your mask still secured over your face, confident that the NYPD would find nothing that could trace back to you. Not any more than they already had, that is. “You’re not gonna tell them shit.” You laughed at him, rolling your eyes, “You think I wasn’t smart enough to hack into your stupid security cameras and duplicate the footage? I have hours of it, Fletcher. Hours of you torturing your wife, keeping her caged up in here like some sort of animal.” He didn’t respond, barely moved a muscle as his face paled. “You tell a single soul what happened here tonight, and I’ll send the footage off to every news station in New York. Got it?” 

You didn’t need to wait for confirmation, aware that men like Fletcher would do anything to avoid bad press. He would make up a story, the same way all of them did. A mugging gone wrong or some stupid lie, anything to paint himself the victim and keep his wrongdoings away from the public. You looked forward, savoring the feeling of the cold Winter air kissing your skin as you let the door slam shut behind you, relaxation washing over you at the thought of finally getting to go home. 

“Do I wanna know what you were doing in there?” 

Well, so much for relaxation. 

You glanced up, immediately noticing Spider-Boy crouched on the unit across from 813. “What are you even doing here?” You asked him, an exasperated groan following after. “Like, seriously, do you have a tracker on me or something? I’m gonna get you one of those little collars with a bell on it, the kind for cats, ya know? That way you at least can’t sneak up on me.” 

Spider-Man narrowed his eyes at you, and your lip curled in response. You didn’t like the way the whites of his mask moved to match his expressions, finding it a bit unnerving. “What were you doing?” He asked again, ignoring your previous sarcastic remarks. 

“Why don’t you go look for yourself?” You jutted your thumb over your shoulder, pointing towards the unit door where Fletcher’s groans of pain should still be faintly heard. “Cause I’m a bit tired from doing your job and all, so I’d rather skip the small talk tonight and head home.” 

He scoffed, still perched atop the building, staring down at you. “Doing my job?” 

You nodded. “Uh, yeah. Did I stutter or something?” 

“How were you doing my job?” He rephrased his question, annoyed by your constant habit of avoidance. 

“Do your own research for once, Spider-Kid.” You told him lazily, shaking your head as you began to continue your walk towards the exit gates of the StorageMart. “Maybe then you’ll realize we aren’t quite as different as you think.” 

The nickname annoyed Peter, but he tried to shake it off, aware that it was just another way you tried to get under his skin and throw him off. He swiftly jumped from the building, landing directly in your path to keep you from leaving. Before his feet even touched the ground you already had a knife drawn, as if you had predicted his movement. 

“While I commend you for wanting to stop me,” you spoke slowly, the tip of your blade pointed at his throat—it was an empty threat, as you knew that you would never strike what would most certainly be a fatal blow against him, although he didn’t know that and chose to keep a safe enough distance. “There’s a man in there that’s in desperate need of medical attention. I suggest you run off to be a hero and get him to a hospital.” 

Peter’s eyes shifted towards the unit, his amplified hearing allowing him to hear Fletcher’s heartbeat from where he stood. You were right; and while he didn’t sound like he was on the verge of death, he needed a hospital, and a fight with you was one he wasn’t confident he would win—not quick enough, at least, to justify leaving a wounded man to suffer. 

“We’re very different.” He promised you, taking a step back to show that he was backing down. To show that he was a hero, that he would prioritize a civilian's life over stroking his own ego by attempting to capture you right now. The two of you were nothing alike—Peter worked to protect this city, locking criminals up and fighting alongside the Avengers. And you? “You’re a villain.” 

You snorted at his dramatic choice of words, still armed and prepared to strike if he made a move towards you. He didn’t, though, taking a few more steps backwards towards Fletcher’s unit.

“Villain’s such a harsh word.” You clicked your tongue, chastising him, making his blood boil as he had to use all the restraint in his body to prevent himself from going after you as you readied yourself to dart for the exit. 

“I prefer anti-hero.”

tag list: @llovergirlll @hpchosen1 @vintageoldfashion

#peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker headcanons #spiderman fluff #spiderman imagine #spiderman fic #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman angst #tom holland imagine #tom!peter imagine #tom!peter x reader #peter parker mcu #mcu imagine #avengers imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x plus size reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #antihero

[lebrookestore]

nct 127 as demigods!

authors note: i have no time to even be doing this i don't know where it came from but the pjo brainrot and phase is so real and back with a vengence so please enjoy while i hope i won't be failing my mathematics final. and yes, i absolutely want to write a full fledged fic based on this.

Mark: as a son of Poseiden!

listen...this man is everywhere and is so important that its no surprise he's the child of one of the big three.

has a natural affinity for swordplay.

used to depend on his swordsmanship a lot more than his inherited powers from his father but learned to strike a balance between both as he grew older.

has a very obvious, clearly powerful aura, but he's also Just A Guy.

when he first arrived to camp, everyone thought he was a child of Hypnos actually because he quite literally slept through the first two days he was there due to how exhausted he was.

got claimed on the third day and everyone was shocked (yes he's my Percy stand in and what about it)

doesn't really like how much everyone looks up to him, it makes him scared for the moment that he inevitably disappoints them all - or so he thinks.

bro is clueless for the most part but always manages to pull through and get himself out of any situations (*cough* monsters *cough) he finds himself in.

when he's especially emotionally disturbed or angry, he causes earthquakes.

Johnny: as a son of Hecate!

when he was little he didn't really understand how he could make things simply appear or scenes in front of him change by simply imagining it.

it kept him out of a lot of trouble during his younger years.

manipulation of the mist has always come easy to him, he barely even breaks a sweat.

his weapon is an enchanted spear.

it helps channel his power and helps in physical battle as well, though he tends to rely on his powers more.

the spear was a gift from his mother, the only time he's ever met her or spoken to her.

he tends to make people nervous with so much as a glance.

its not just the fact that he has that demigod aura of power- he's just an intimidating figure.

the air of mystery around him is furthered by how private he is, but he's all smiles and jokes if you're a close friend of his.

knowing how easily he can make someone nervous, Johnny uses it to his advantage often, whether it be to get out of trouble or to get his way.

Taeyong: as a son of Iris!

take a moment to see the vision here folks

he totally has the vibe of a hippie rainbow goddess' son.

was brought to chb when he was fourteen, which is relatively old for a demigod.

the colour of his eyes varies and changes according to his moods and emotions.

when the sun hits his hair it seems like that too changes colour and shifts from one shade to another.

once tried to tie-die his camp half-blood shirt with Jaehyun to make it a little more stylish since the both of them were tired of the bright, unflattering orange. lets just say it did not turn out well.

his weapon of choice is a scimtar - a wicked curved blade.

for someone so peaceful and smiley, he's scary when fighting with his scimtar, quick on his feet and downright deadly. unlike his siblings, who tend to despise conflict, he's one of the best fighters.

like all children of Iris, he can create a rainbow barrier for protection

he possesses photokinesis, a rare power among children of iris, in which he can focus an intense beam of prismatic light which will burn anything it touches.

Doyoung: as a son of Athena!

was taken to camp when he was nine and quickly adapted although he was so young.

the definition of a know-it-all, but its kind of in a lovable way.

he has the habit of rambling so his attempts at sounding all knowledgable tend to come off as dorky a lot of time.

make no mistake though, Doyoung is as cunning and resourceful as they get.

although every child of Athena is talented at battle strategy, Doyoung is the one most of the other campers turn to in times of crisis for guidance through any battle.

spends countless hours reading and studying the old stories of great greek heroes and demigods and his favourite is Odysseus.

is proficient with almost all weapon but usually uses a sword.

his fighting style is more calculated than most, his mind is always racing and thinking about weak spots and dissecting his opponents fighting style and flaws.

although a good fighter, he first and foremost relies on his wit and strategic skills and can make use of whatever is at his disposal to hold his own.

Yuta: as a son of Ares!

competitive little bitch (and we love that for him).

got kicked out of three schools because he would pick fights (and win them).

usually leads during capture the flag.

during battle, there tends to be a somewhat manic glow of delight in his eyes because no matter how dangerous the situation is or how bad the odds are, fighting his what he's the best at.

to him, its an art form.

his weapon of choice is a pair of daggers.

usually children of ares don't opt for small weapons as such, and although he has control over any weapon like Doyoung does - though Yuta's control is more innate and in built- he prefers the versatility his daggers give him.

he's quite deadly with them.

the only person that can take him in a fight is Taeyong, and that is also quite rare.

his fighting skills are enhanced when angry or particularly vengeful.

impulsive when it comes to any sort of fighting - prefers to deal with it head on and directly.

Jaehyun: as a son of Aphrodite!

his birthday is literally on valentines day i will not take criticism about this.

bro is literally stunning.

his weapon of choice is a sword.

a surprisingly competent fighter considering his siblings don't particularly enjoy any form of sparring for the most part, and helps out with teaching the younger campers sword fighting.

has the ability to melt anyone with that pretty boy smile of his.

knows exactly how to win someone over and use his natural charm, but doesn't know how to stop it from going too far, which leads to people falling for him left, right and center.

this doesn't mean he's oblivious to those who like him - make no mistake, he is well aware when someone is crushing on him.

unfortunately, he hasn't quite mastered the art of gently letting someone down, which leads to very awkward moments after some poor soul confesses to him.

thus he unwittingly follows the whole 'heartbreaker' agenda the Aphrodite cabin has, though he doesn't approve of it.

doesn't have charmspeak but can tell when its being used on him.

Jungwoo: as a son of Hephastus!

a literal genius.

could solve college level mathematics in the third grade, but his mother never made that fact known - simply because she knew about his demigod nature, being one of the few mortals who could see through the mist.

she didn't want to attract any more attention than necessary.

first came to camp half blood when he was twelve.

can sense how any sort of mechanism works.

possesses pyrokinesis unlike most children of Hephastus, but it takes a lot out of him.

usually relies on his fire manipulation while fighting, but otherwise makes use of an axe as a weapon.

while he is pretty damn good fighter, he prefers to take a backseat and work behind the scenes on weaponry and creating traps to capture or unarm the enemy.

can easily disarm any traps and can sense them if close by, but can also make traps deadlier.

spends a lot of time in forges.

also loves working with the Hermes' campers to construct devices for pranks for fun.

Haechan: as a son of Apollo!

literal sunshine boy.

must protect at all costs but is honestly quite capable of protecting himself and then some.

his mother is a nurse and with her busy schedule he was left alone at home for the most part when he was younger, so being taken to camp half blood by his satyr when he was 10 seemed like the perfect solution.

chose to be an year-round camper since it was safer that way.

an excellent archer.

isn't much of a healer, but if his siblings need help in the infirmary, he'll assist them.

leans into his musical gifts more - his voice can quite literally make anyone stop in their tracks.

if an especially young demigod shows up at camp, he goes out of his way to make sure they're okay, knowing how daunting it all was when he was their age.

gets along well with the Hermes campers due to his mischievous nature.

his favourite trick is putting a rhyming curse on whoever the victim of his prank is.

Taeil: as a son of Demeter!

he's been at camp since he was ten years old.

very level-headed and calm, due to this he often is able to break up any fights started by the Are's cabin.

has an addiction to froot loops.

my boy is badass as hell his weapon is a scythe.

for most people, its too big and bulky to fight with, but he knows just how to make it work.

it takes the form of a hand weeder when not in battle for easy transportation.

can summon, manipulate and and control all sorts of vegetation.

he can make them grow faster but on the flipside can also make them decay quicker.

spends a lot of his time in the strawberry fields since working with working with agriculture is hardwired into him.

has a motherly presence, a lot of campers turn to him for advice.

especially fond of Haechan and is also one of the only reasons the Are's campers haven't gone all psycho on the boy- Taeil is the only one who can calm them down through their bouts of rhyming phrases (which happens suspiciously often).

#nct headcanons #nct 127 headcanons #nct x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct fluff #nct crack #mark x reader #jaehyun x reader #haechan x reader #yuta x reader #johnny x reader #taeyong x reader #doyoung x reader #jungwoo x reader #taeil x reader #anyways im going back to studying now 🙏🏼

[abbysbunny]

NEW STUDENT

--------------------------------------------------

part two

plot: hazel joins a new school and maybe makes a new friend

warning: none, like a tiny weeny bit of fluff, this is low-key boring so:3+not proofread because I'm dyslexic and lazy

word count: 0.7k

--------------------------------------------------

school. it's boring and confusing, but lucky for you a new classmate was joining you today. the bell rang, signifying the start of first period, you say down in your assigned seat and noticed the spot next to you was empty, 'huh weird' you thought, thinking nothing of it.

Ms.smith walked into the class with a short haired girl behind her, "good morning class, this our new student hazel callahan, be nice and give her a warm welcome", some people around the class said hi but no one really cared, she ajusted the sting of her backpack before sitting down in the seat next to yours.

you looked at her with a small smile on your face, giving her a little wave, she just glaced at you before turning around to pull out her notebook. the smile on your face quickly turned into a slight frown, you whipped your head around to face the chalkboard.

it felt like 10 hours had passed before the bell ringed, you finally had break. after a quick snack it was time to go out in the freezing cold, 'great, I'm cold and have no friends to hang out with' you mentally noted. suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder interrupting your train of thought.

you turned around and saw, hazel. she looked at you with an awkward smile before speaking, "um, Ms.smith said I could ask you to give me a tour around the school, is that okay with you?" she anxiously scratched the back of her neck, you thought about it for a moment, with a small amount of hesitation you said yes.

you grabbed her hand and led her around the school, showing her the bathrooms, classes cafeteria and even cracking a few jokes here and there making her chuckle, by the end of the tour you felt proud of yourself for maybe making a new friend. the bell ringed, again, and it was officially time for second period, today was gonna be a long day.

lunch was always loud and lonely, you grabbed your plate of suspicious looking food and sat down at an empty table guessing someone with a dog collar would sit down next to you and gush about some anime. surprisingly someone different sat down, hazel sat down.

"hey hazel, how're you liking the school?" you said in a hopefull sounding tone,"it's okay" your conversation attempt was shut down with her dry tone, you continued eating your french fries before noticing hazel was reading. 'reading? at lunch? with this chaos?' you thought.

looking at hazel really scanning her face you realized that she was actually attractive, like really attractive, usually the most attractive person at your school is a teacher who kinda looks like Sarah Paulson, but someone your age who looks attractive who's also gay? here that's crazy. 'wait is she gay? I mean she dresses like a little boy who just discovered urban outfitters' you were 99% sure she was, but...was it better to ask?

"hey hazel?" she quickly lifting her head, her eyes peeking out of her bangs, "are you gay?" hazel slightly choked on her sandwich before taking a big gulp of water. she looked at you with a confused look, "uhm, yeah I am but uh why do you wanna know...?" you thought of a quick reason without trying to sound offensive, "I don't know I guess I wanted to know if I'm the only gay person at this school...?" you awkwardly chuckled.

"oh well you're not I guess..." you noticed a light shade of pink on her cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but before you could get anything out the bell rang, had it already been a half hour? 'fuck we have Mr.Gs class now' you sighed, "hazel since we have Mr.Gs class now and it's not that important, so wanna sit next to me and maybe chat a bit?" she looked at you for second and quietly agreed.

by the end of the school day you and hazel had actually gotten to know each other pretty well, you walked out of class together, her hand accidentally brushing against yours, making your face hot, "hey uh, could I get your number or Instagram, or whatever you wa-" hazel was cut off from her awkward ranting by your voice.

"yeah I'll give you my number" you exchanged numbers before saying your goodbyes, maybe school isn't so bad after all.

notes: this is my first post I'm so scared please don't be mean I'll pee my pants, also I rushed the ending😛 if you fruity people want a part two tell me😈

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan oneshot #hazel callahan fanfiction #ruby cruz x reader

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (Nicknamed Poppy)

WC: 6600

Warning: 18+ Blog/Minors will be blocked; Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

A/N: We’ll, there’s a lot here. This week was draining with a teething/no sleeping babe— but I was determined to get this finished! I don’t have a lot to say, but I’m excited for this part of their story! Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey again for her support and proofreading every week! And thank you to everyone who has continued to stick with these two dumb dumbs as they figure their shit out. Love you all!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous/ Next

Breathe. 

In. 

Out. 

Dieter wills himself to regulate the adrenaline surging through him, it has his muscles tingling as its increasing levels spread through every pliable fiber. 

Breathe. 

In. 

Out. 

He takes in his surroundings, a steady attempt at grounding his mind, assuring him, keeping him present, giving him a chance to regain his composure. 

He Sees…

The ornate tile that dresses the front steps to your Spanish Revival home, the perfect backdrop to the ‘welcome’ mat that greets him the minute he arrives to your place. 

The sturdy wooden door attached to your home that keeps you protected, allowing you to live comfortably and securely without a bother from the outside world. 

The well maintained landscape, no real knowledge of the specific varieties of plants that decorate the front, he senses a low maintenance and drought tolerant feel— a few things he had never heard of until moving in with Diem. 

The way the sky begins to shift from its golden orange and purple hues to an even shade of deep blue as the sun tucks behind the horizon line, welcoming the stillness of the night. 

The way he is actively replaying an episodic memory of you from just an hour ago when you had joined him at Diem’s house to read over his lines for his upcoming movie role. 

*

“Are you sure you even want me doing this? I don’t know a single thing about acting. Can’t Diem help?? I don’t want to mess you up.” 

It’s been a few days since the Capri re-grand opening. And a few days since yours and Dieter’s almost kiss. 

There hasn’t really been a discussion on what had happened, or almost happened, only due to the fact that you hadn’t seen each other since Dieter had to leave to take Wren home. 

Now you find yourselves sitting in Diem’s living room, on opposite ends of her sectional couch, ignoring the residual heat that is currently reigniting as you both look over the scripts you’re each holding— alone together, zero distractions. 

“This scene is between two people who are navigating a new relationship, dancing around the sexual tension between them—“

The coincidence not lost on you. 

“So, there’s no fuckin’ way I’d read through this with my sister. And I doubt she’d want to anyways, she hates this kinda shit, so I don’t even bother.“

“Okay, I’ll try my best, but if I fuck up—“ 

“You’re not gonna fuck up. I highlighted your lines in pink, just focus on those and you’ll do fine. Besides, you’re a teacher— you read stories for a living, just think of it like you’re reading to your class.”

“Dieter, it says right here at the bottom of the page in bold type, ‘HER EYES CLOSE AT HIS TOUCH FOLLOWED BY LOW SENSUAL MOANS’— there’s no fucking way I can imagine myself reading this to my class.” 

You look up from the paper, his eyes already on you. You note the way his neck muscles flex as he swallows, the grip on his paper a little tighter— you’re not sure how you’re going to survive this. 

*

He touches…

The weight of his chip, the brass cool against his warm clammy skin, pulling it from his pocket, it sits heavy in his palm— a quick reminder that who he was doesn’t define him now. A few light tosses, before gripping it with his thumb and his forefinger, one last look before returning it to his pocket. 

The compact device that connects him to everything important to him in a single touch, his finger navigating back and forth between the home screen image of Wren and him eating donuts then to the text you had sent not long after leaving Diem’s house — Poppy💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it — Then double checking the numbers on the house match the ones that you sent after he text back asking if he could come over tonight— a perfect match. 

The silky strands of his ruffled dark brown hair as he tries to tame his wild curls, the cottony fabric of his gray weathered shirt pulling at it in such a way so it drapes over him just right, the rough texture of his faded jeans against his sweaty hands as he rubs them several times over where they hug his thighs— a blind once over of his appearance. 

The way his hand skims over the velvety skin above your knee, the hem of your dress delicately dancing over his fingertips, the faint scar that now lives on the side of your thigh from a biking accident as a kid lays uneven under his gentle graze. 

*

“Is this okay?” 

Somewhere between shared lines, and fiery dialogue, Dieter finds himself sitting closer to you, his knee brushing against yours—hand so effortlessly placed on your thigh as he checks in with your comfort. 

“Y-yeah— it says ‘HIS HAND REACHES THE APEX BETWEEN HER THIGHS’, so she would know that his hand is moving up her leg—.” Your voice trembles as you try to concentrate on the words printed in bold on the current page. 

Looking up, you see Dieter’s focus solely on you, his folded script tucked between his leg and the couch cushion. 

“That’s not what I asked.” There's a deep husk to his voice, his movements halted as he draws your attention away from the pages and up to him. “Are you comfortable with this, not what the paper reads or act is telling us to do. Is this okay with you?” Your consent, regardless of what the characters are doing, his number one priority. 

“Y-yeah…” You murmur as you look down to where his hand is still subtly holding your leg. Your attention drawn back to his handsome face, placing your hand on top of his, encouraging him to continue his efforts. 

*

He hears…

The symphonic resonance of the nightfall harmonics drifts through in the crisp evening air, a modest breeze carries the lilt of the chirping crickets throughout the stilled neighborhood, the rustling of the leaves scattered and swirling across the sidewalk, the faint cries of coyote pups awaiting the arrival of their mother who’s been in search of a hearty meal. 

The way his heart beat reverberates against his eardrums, the thudding of his heart an emotive chorus, its pace evening out with each grounding thought. 

The way your breath catches, its auditory staccato floats through the air and nestles somewhere deep within his mind, storing its melodic rhythm away as an echoic file, never wanting to forget how it sounds. 

*

Dieter shifts himself forward, the crunch of the leather puckering as he settles a knee on the cushion, a hand gripping the back of the couch as he angles himself closer. 

The crackle of paper startles you, Dieter grabbing the crumbled heap of papers and tossing it over his shoulder, removing any distractions that might be bothering. 

Bit by bit you allow yourself to fall back onto the mound of decorative pillows in the corner of the couch. Dieter following your lead, keeping a close distance between you as he settled himself between your legs. 

“When is Diem going to be home?” You breathed, a warmth spreads through your body as you fixate on the fact that this is really happening. 

“Don’t know, at least an hour.”

A few loose curls fall into Dieter’s face, you lightly comb them back, the movements unhurried and attentive. Your fingers catching the frames of his glasses in the process, you gingerly remove them from his face, carefully tossing them to the side— producing your favorite lopsided grin from him. 

Dieter pauses to study every little detail of this moment— the flash of want in your eyes, the way your fingertips skim over and around his taut biceps, the deliberate way the tip of your tongue wets your bottom lip before it’s drawn in between your teeth, the way your lungs continue to fill with the air you’re both sharing— he’s never felt more alive than in this moment. 

*

He smells…

The night brings a refreshing scent of calmer air, the aromatic warmth of the citrus  groves meld with the fragrant lavender farms that accumulates throughout the day, the herbal aroma that triggers a distinct nostalgic smell of his childhood. 

The way your perfume mixes with your natural pheromones, the unmistakable notes of musky vanilla and orange blossom paired with your own unique scent stimulates his olfactory nerves, his spine tingling with pleasure as he breathes you in. 

*

Dieter takes his time, deliberate in his own way, he wants to take his time— savor the moment. 

He lowers himself down to the open space where your shoulder meets your neck— warm, delicate and inviting. 

You angle your head, allowing him more space to move, your hands wrapping themselves around his neck, twisting his hair between your fingers. 

Dieter places a soft tentative kiss to your shoulder, then slowly dragging the tip of his nose up the column of your neck, mindful of how responsive you are, nudging at your jaw before stopping.  

“You’re so fucking soft.”  His lips ghosting over your ear, voice honeyed and thick, his hand now situated on your bare hip, thumb toying with the seam of your underwear. 

You nuzzle into the side of his head, his scent provocative in the way you crave it immensely. The smokiness of the sandalwood and cedarwood compliment the spicy musk and floral base— it’s Dieter, wild and delicious. 

*

He tastes…

The ache for sustenance, a morsel of pleasure activates his taste buds, a palatable desire that he craves in hopes to fight off the hunger that plagues him. 

*

A fieriness burns through your body, causing you to lose all ability to properly handle the way Dieter is making you feel— ravenous. You need more, something substantial that satiates the emptiness and the yearning. 

The unfaltering look in his eyes, an unspoken feeling of infatuation that has you melting under his gaze. 

Dieter leans in, gradually closing the gap between his lips and yours, sparking the immediate surge of oxytocin actively flowing through your veins.

 His breath fanning across your lips, warm and minty, a brief remembrance of your almost kiss— several times over. 

This position offers a new approach, angle of motion, feeling the fullness of his bottom lip catch your top lip, your fingers gripping tightly to his hair in anticipation as the weight of his lips begin to slot gently over yours. 

*CLICK* 

“Dieter? I’m home!” Diem announces her arrival. 

Releasing the breath you were holding, grip loosened, warmth lifted— another moment gone. 

“Fuck me!” Dieter grumbles, his forehead falling to your shoulder, your chest vibrating with a silent laugh. 

Dieter places a kiss to your shoulder then pushes himself back from where he had been hovering over you seconds before, helping you to readjust the flowy fabric of your dress, a silent look to you asking “are you okay?”— you nod yes. 

His body slumps back into the cushioned backrest, head falling back as he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away his annoyance at Diem’s horrible timing. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were here too, Poppy. I dropped Wren off for a playdate and picked up some dinner on the way home. You hungry?” 

“Umm, no I’m good. Actually, I’m going to head out. I’ve got— there’s some things I need to do. So, yeah— I’m gonna go.” 

You feel like two teenagers who were caught by the other’s parents. That awkwardness that looms over afterwards, not really knowing what to say or do. 

You give his leg a light squeeze, pulling his attention back from his sulking, propping himself up with his arms on his knees, grabbing your hand and returning the faint gesture. 

“I’ll text you later.” You mouthed to him before grabbing your items from the coffee table and making your way to the front door. 

“You still on for this Friday?” Diem asks you as she’s unboxing the pizzas she had picked up, arranging a few slices nicely on plates. 

“Yep— yeah! Friday is still good! See you later.” Your response short and to the point as you close the door behind you. 

Dieter can hear the rustling of the wrappers and then a stillness hangs in the air. His back is to where Diem is standing in the kitchen, but he can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. 

“What?” 

“Why didn’t you mention she was coming over? I would have grabbed more food, we could have all hung out together.” 

“It was a last minute thing. I asked her to come read lines with me.” 

Diem rounds the couch and places the food on the coffee table, before sitting and making herself comfortable. 

“So… Did you finally kiss her?”

That gets a laugh from Dieter, face falling into his hands at the ridiculousness of Diem’s question. 

“No, I haven’t kissed her.” Tilting his head towards where she’s sitting, chin resting against his clasped hands. 

“Oh my god! You haven’t kissed her yet? What the hell, Dieter!”

“Trust me, it’s not for a lack of trying.” He assures her, picking at the toppings of his pizza slice that had fallen onto the plate. 

“I don’t get it. If you’ve been trying, then what’s stopping you from actually doing it?” 

“You are! Literally every chance I’ve taken, you stroll on in and fuckin’ cockblock me.”

“Wait— you’re blaming me for you not kissing her?” The shocked look on her face is priceless and equally hilarious. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely blaming you. You have the worst timing ever!” He laughed, because even as annoyed as he is, the whole situation is a little funny. 

*BUZZ* 

The vibration of his phone cuts into their conversation, a text from you pops up on to the screen, he swipes it open.

Poppy 💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it. 

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few. 

He wipes his greasy fingers with a napkin then tossing it onto his forgotten pizza. He stands to his full height, placing his phone in his pocket and makes his way to the door. 

“Where are you going? I was going to turn on that one show we’ve been wanting to watch.”

“I’m— going out. Go ahead and start it without me.” He shouts as the door clicks closed behind him. 

*

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few. 

Poppy 💐- House number 402. White house on the left side of the street. See you soon!

The distance from your house to Diem’s is a short one, 3 minutes if you’re a fast Walker, 5-6 if you take your time. 

Dieter was on his way— to your house. 

You toss your phone onto the counter, and run to the bathroom. Not knowing how soon he was leaving after stating he’d be here in a few, didn’t leave you much time to freshen up. 

You literally just saw him, so you kept it simple a few swipes of deodorant, clean away any mascara flakes and opting for a fresh coat of chapstick instead of lipstick— less is more approach. 

2 minutes down. 

Running through the house, you do a quick once over, grabbing any loose items, out of place items or kind of embarrassing items and tossing them into your hall closet— making sure to snag your copy of ‘My Pleasure: An Intimate Guide to Loving Your Body and Having Great Sex’ off of the coffee table. 

4 minutes down. 

Heading into the kitchen— Maybe he’ll want something to drink? You grab two tall glasses and fill them with ice, sitting on the counter waiting to fill with whatever Dieter wants. 

5 minutes down. 

Nervously, you stare at the front door, your nervous tick of picking at your fingernails keeps your hands busy. Should I turn some music on? Should I have put on a little more perfume? Maybe I should have brushed my teeth? 

*Knock Knock Knock*

You grab for the door handle, pausing for a minute to take a deep breath, then cracking the door open to see Dieter standing on your front porch, hands in his pockets, casually looking down at his feet then up to you at the sound of the creaky door hinges— his face lights up instantly. 

“Hey! Hope you found it okay?” You can’t help the dopey smile that grows on your face. 

“No issues at all. Didn’t realize how close you lived this whole time.” He says, gesturing in the direction of Diem’s house. 

“Yeah, almost neighbors.” Your smirk is laced in flirtation, your head leaning against the edge of the door in the most 90s rom-com way. “You wanna come in?”

“Sure.” 

“Are you thirsty at all? I have sparkling and regular water, Diet Coke, and some beer— I haven’t made it to the store this week so I’m running low on things. I’ll be more prepared next time.” You ramble as you lead him into the kitchen, your nervous energy spiking just slightly. 

“I’m good for right now, thank you. So, there will be a next time?” He asks, observing the way you bite at your lower lip when he mentions the prospect of a “next time”.

“Yeah,” You shrug your shoulders, noting the way the corner of his mouth quirks up and the light flutter in your stomach that follows. “I think so, if that’s what you want?”

“Yes, definitely want that.”

There’s a beat of silence, sans the sounds of home— the tick of the clock, the clinking of ice falling into the tray, a faint sound of music coming from another room. 

“Oh! I—I have your jacket, I keep meaning to bring it over and then it would slip my mind…” Very much a lie, you were wearing it early this morning while you sipped your morning coffee, reading the latest chapter of ‘My Pleasure’… and you also might have worn it afterwards, when you needed a little— relief. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I mean, a little Birdie has been asking about it— it’s not a big deal.”

“Let me go grab it so I’m not tempted to hold it ransom for longer. Umm, help yourself to whatever. Then I can show you the easel, see if it’s something that will work for you.”

“Okay.” 

Dieter takes in your home, it’s very much you. 

Your love for plants extends inside, dozens of potted green plants, in varying shapes and sizes grace just your living room alone. 

There’s a hint of a modern flare to your style, clean lines and lots of wood, a very neutral aesthetic— most of the color living as art work on your walls. 

The art hanging throughout your home, he can only assume is your own. He’s drawn to the texture and the style of each painting— faint lines formed into human figures , landscapes resembling the world outside of these walls, and vivid abstract strokes of color adorn canvas everywhere he looks. 

A soft glow catches his eye and like a moth to a flame, he’s lured to a dimly lit room— your art studio. 

Large windows flank the walls, he imagines the natural light in the daytime is ideal in a space like this. 

Tattered empty tubes of acrylic paint, evidence of being overly pinched to extricate every last bit of paint, strewn across a large table against the wall. Empty glass food jars repurposed as storage for your massive collection of paint brushes, while spatulas and other painting instruments lay haphazardly across the tabletop. 

The table seems to double as a desk, once  light colored, now coated in layers of colorful dried paint drips and spills. He runs his fingers over the surface, a balance of smooth and irregular textures, imagining the years you’ve spent standing over this table deliberately colors and mixing new ones. 

Dieter thinks you must have been painting recently, a clear palette holds fresh dollops of paint in the center with a few experimental strokes on the side. He dips a finger into one of the little mounds, rubbing the emulsion between three fingers. It's cold and wet as it glides over his skin. 

The wall of windows behind him he finds an easel, it too covered in coats of paint— a newer canvas sits in the support bar, a rough sketch of something just barely visible. 

Next to where the easel rests, there are canvases  stacked neatly against the wall along the floor. He analyzes each painting with regard, taking in each deliberate stroke and use of color— intently connecting with the emotions you’ve experienced in creating each piece. 

He admires your tenacity. Through your long days of teaching at the school, little humans requiring so much of your attention for hours. To volunteering your time to help others explore their creativity at the gallery, planning and teaching weekly. And yet, you still find time to cater to your needs by doing something that makes your life more fulfilling, not allowing any roadblocks to deter your endeavors. 

There’s an ache in his chest, a deep reminder of how different his life could have been had he not been bound by the shackles of Hollywood and the dark world that surrounds it. 

Dieter had only ever dreamed of having such a space like this of his own, where he could chase a creative high and drown out the loud noises that followed him daily. 

Stopping his thoughts before they begin to spiral, he thinks back to a motivational speaker he listened in on while in rehab. There were a lot of valuable words shared during the speech, but he remembers the line that really stood out to him— even through the darkest moments and afflictions that overpowered all his memories and people closest to him, it didn’t mean he is less worthy of a good life, a great life, moving forward. 

Dieter realizes that with everything he’d lived through and how much hurt he had caused, he knows those things led him to this point in time— they led him to you. 

“I ended up washing it, read the care instructions on the tag so I wouldn’t fuck it up. I found some melted Kit-Kats in the pockets and a few condom wrappers— this jacket has definitely seen some things…” You stop talking when you realize you’re met with an empty room, Dieter not where you had left him. “Dieter?” 

There’s a slight movement that pulls your attention in the direction of your studio. 

You find Dieter standing in the center of the room, the flicker from a burning candle emits a diffused light, washing his sharp features in a soft glow. There’s almost a pensiveness to his expression, hands tucked in his pockets lost in his thoughts, you watch him quietly take in the room around him. 

“I see you helped yourself to a house tour.” You announce your presence as you enter the room, placing his jacket on the overstuffed chair in the corner then turning around to walk in the direction of your large art table, the skirt of your dress shifting from side to side as you walk. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—“ He starts to apologize, realizing you both hadn’t set any boundaries with each other. 

“It’s fine, I’m just messing with you. I hid all my incriminating things already.” You joke, but there’s something about him that makes you feel like you don’t have to be guarded. 

“Are these for your showing?” He asks, pointing to the canvases he had just been studying. 

“Yeah,” You say as you turn to face him, lean back against the table. “They’re all pretty much done— I’ll probably fine tune some things before the big day.”

“Can I ask what they represent?? I can see two figures— a man and a woman in some sort of intimate setting. I see the woman is fully fleshed out in color with distinct features, similar to your own— but the man looks like a shadowed figure, starting out blank, then slowly gaining color and personality in each painting— like an evolution of some sort. But what’s the narrative behind them?” 

The way he’s analyzing your work, makes you feel even more captivated by him. 

“I was having this dream— a nightmare maybe? For weeks, it would come to me every night, always starting out in the same way. I would feel him all around me— his hands, lips, everything. I would try to speak to him, but he would never respond, and I could never see his face, didn’t know who he was. Then he would vanish, like I had lost him and I would wake up in a panic. But as the weeks went on, it was like I could start to see him a little clearer…”

Dieter hangs on to your every word, he’s drawn in to your openness to share your thoughts so freely with him. He steps closer to where you’re standing, wanting to know more about these dreams. 

“Go on.” He says softly, encouraging you to share more details. 

“Some nights his face was a blur, but I could see his features, more clearly each night. And as his face became more visible over time, the dreams didn’t feel like I was losing him— it felt like I was gaining more of him. The last week or so, I can see his face— I know who he is.”

At some point in explaining the story behind your paintings, your eyes fell to the floor— the way he was watching you so intently felt overwhelming the closer he got. 

“Who is he?” He asks, placing two fingers under your chin to slowly lift your gaze up to him. 

“You.”

It’s a fierce softness in the way his mouth molds to yours, the gentle press of his lips is breathtaking— punching the air right from your lungs. 

His touch is meticulous and thoughtful, resting his hands on your bare thighs, fingers lightly graze over your soft skin leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps. 

Your hands snake up his body, settling back to where they were not so long ago— cupping the back of his head, slow drawn out scratches to his scalp. 

“Is this okay?” He murmurs against your mouth. 

“Y-yes— more than okay!” You breathe out— you’ve  literally dreamt of this moment. 

Experimentally you slowly swipe your tongue across his plump bottom lip, silently begging for a little more and he obliges, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. An equal exchange of feelings and yearning as the kiss alternates between a tangle of tongues and sweet pecks. 

Dieter pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, his breaths ragged puffs across your warm face.

“Why did you stop?” Your breath equally as ragged, chest heaving as you question his halted movements. 

“Be-because—“ His throat dry as he tries to regulate his breathing. “If we don’t stop, things will get— more serious.”

“I-I’m failing to see the problem in that.” You tease. 

“I don’t have any condoms— I didn’t think we’d get this far with our track record.” 

“I locked the door, after I let you in— didn’t want to chance any interruptions.” His chest vibrates with a soft chuckle at your response. “I’m clean and on the pill— but only if you’re comfortable.”

“I am, clean I mean— I’m clean, plus haven’t been with anyone in, well, awhile now. Might be a little rusty in all actuality.” He confesses, his thumbs still moving in sweeping motions over the tops of your thighs. “You sure you want this?”

“Very, very sure.” You whisper against his lips, grabbing one of his hands and dragging it slowly up under your dress to the throbbing ache that has settled between your legs since he started kissing you. 

“Fuck!” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of your bare cunt, nearly choking on air— his fingers start to tentatively swipe through your wet folds, watching as your eyes start to roll back in pleasure. 

“I thought I had felt some kind of underwear earlier?” He asks, as his fingers coated in your slick start to draw lazy circles over your sensitive clit. 

“Ah!— I-I did. But I was so keyed up when I — left, I came home and had to— Oh! I had to— Fuck I can’t think straight when you’re doing that!” 

“Did you come home and touch yourself?”

“Yessss— Oh god!” You whine breathlessly as two of his fingers enter your heated core, remnants of your earlier orgasm fully welcoming him. 

“You’re so perfect.” He exclaimed,

his free hand cupping your face, keeping you close, his thumb lightly tracing across your lower lip. 

His two fingers continue to move in and out of you, working up so effortlessly. He presses a long slow kiss to your lips, followed by a few short light ones. 

You can feel yourself moving closer to the edge, there’s a tingle running down your spine, converging with the fire that’s beginning to break within you. Your velvety walls begin to flutter around Dieter’s fingers,  prompting him to kiss you a little deeper and it’s just the push you need. 

“Oh my god! I’m gonna come—“ Your body begins to shake, your hands slamming done on your table— paint splattering into the air. 

It’s an inferno of ecstasy blazing through your body, you wrap your arms around Dieter’s waist, clinging to him as you ride it out— letting the embers cool down. 

Without a single breath, you grab for the button on Dieter’s jeans as he tries to pull at the straps of your dress. It’s a jumbled mess of limbs, but finally working in tandem to rid each other of clothes. 

Dieter crowds you against the table, the edge digging into your lower back causing you to yelp. 

“Are you okay?” His eyes etched in concern, as he scans over your blissed out features. 

“Ye-yeah! The ta-table is digging.” You say, pointing to show him. 

He bends down to grab onto the back of your thighs. “Jump.” He says as he helps guide your naked body onto the table. 

His hands rest on the table as he leans in to kiss you again, unhurried as he licks into your mouth as he guides your body to lay down on the table. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, Poppy.” He says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and over your chest, stopping and pressing his lips over the spot that he hopes to hold on to for a while— your heart. 

The gesture has your eyes welling up, blinking rapidly to fight them off. You feel so completely overwhelmed by him, you have to actively stop yourself from telling him how in love you are with him. 

He lifts himself off of you just enough to reach between the two of you, giving his cock a few hasty strokes before notching its weeping head at your entrance. 

“Fuck!” He gasps as he slowly pushes his full length into your warm cunt— the slightest ghosting of your climax now pulsing around him. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in as close to you as possible, silently begging him to move, but he grips onto your leg to halt your movements. 

“Wait— I need a minute otherwise this is going to be over before it even happens.” He says, resting his head on your sternum to give himself a moment. 

“Dieter, it’s fine. Just take what you need— I’m— I’m good.” You feel more than satisfied with the two orgasms you’ve already had, you just want to feel him. 

He slowly states to move his hips, several purposeful thrusts, wanting to savor the way you feel, the warmth already starting to bloom in his belly.

Dieter lifts himself off of you, sensing this new angle is pleasant based on how you start to arch your back off the table, his steady thrusts working you both up in a desired frenzy. 

“Fuuuuck, you feel like a dream., Poppy.” His voice is hoarse, glancing down to watch the way your arousal coats him, his hands gripping your waist as he thrusting into with a little more earnestness. 

“Dieter— I think I’m going to come again— oh god!!” You announced into the lust filled room, the tell-tale signs barreling through your body. 

You try to grab onto something, hands looking for something to anchor yourself to, Dieter too far away and too lost in his own pursuit— each thrust is a little deeper producing your muscles to tighten on their own accord. 

An unexpected swipe of Dieter’s thumb over your clit is blinding, sweet erotic sounds pouring from your mouth, hands slamming back onto the table, you're met with wetness, your brain registering where you are and that your hands are covered in paint. 

The thick emulsion is cold when it hits your skin, your nipples pebble at the sensation of the paint gliding over them, your hands kneading the weight of your breasts— paint building up between your fingers with each calculated squeeze, each roll of your nipple sends you closer to your third orgasm. 

You look up to see Dieter’s slack jawed expression, which only makes you emphasize your movements, giving him a little show. You’re arched back putting your chest on display, your hands working over your exposed skin covering your upper body in a rainbow of colors. 

“Oh shit— shitshitshitshit— I’m gonna— fuck!” The sight of you sets Dieter off, folding himself over the top of you, face nestled into the crook of your neck as his thrusts begin to falter at the way your cunt begins to contract around him. 

A gravelly moan against your damp skin and one final thrust, his hips still as he’s spilling into you. 

The room is still again. The faint scent of your oud and  sandalwood candle is overpowered by the sex hazed aroma. Chests moving against each other simultaneously, lungs begging to properly breathe, skin slipping with each pull of air— this might become your favorite way to create art. 

A soft kiss to your shoulder  as Dieter lifts himself up into his forearms, resting his temple against your jaw to give his arms a chance to regain their strength before giving you a softer kiss to your lips. 

“That was—“ He’s still trying to regulate his breathing, words jumbled in his brain and not quite producing properly. 

“Amazing!” You finish his sentence for him. 

“Yeah— amazing.” He says, one more kiss because he doesn’t think he’s given you enough yet, then he’s slowly pulling out of you and helping you sit upright. 

“What a mess we made of ourselves.” You laugh as you examine both of your colorful torsos. 

“Worth it.” Dieter replied with a slight shrug and a quirky smile on his handsome face. 

“I’m going to go grab some stuff to clean us up. I’ll be right back.” 

Hopping off the table to head towards your bathroom, Dieter grabs you by the wrist, spinning you back towards him, your bodies flush against each once more as he gives you a toe curling kiss. 

“Alright, hurry back.” He says, giving your backside a few taps. 

*

You take a few minutes to freshen yourself up, wiping away as much of the paint as you can. 

Throwing on a clean pair of underwear and a loose shirt, the hardwood cool against your bare feet, you make your way back to your studio where you’re met with an unexpected sight when you get to the door, Dieter sitting in front of your easel where your last canvas sits. His naked body wrapped in his fuzzy coat, his brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moves around the canvas with a paint drenched brush. 

You take a moment to just watch him, leaning into the door frame, watching how he looks so relaxed and happy. 

“You snoop and you help yourself to my painting, you sir are a menace.” You jokingly say to him, it earns you a generous laugh. 

“Sorry, guess I’m two for two now. I saw you had it roughly sketched out and thought I’d paint you the way I see you.” He explained, leaning back into the small metal chair. 

“And how do you see me?” 

“Beautiful.” The word floats out and around you, its weight settling into that little space in your chest that has felt empty for so long. 

“That’s two times you’ve painted me now— I think those would be grounds for someone to fall in love.” You tease, but there’s truth wrapped up in your statement. Pushing yourself off the doorframe, making your way over to where he’s sitting. 

He places the brush in the glass of water, his hand reaching out for you to come closer, softly grabbing at your hips he’s pulling you down so you’re straddling his lap— fully aware he’s  still naked and covered in paint under his jacket. 

“Do you?” He has to know if you’re feeling the same way as him. “Do you, love me?” 

“Yes.” Your voice a little wobbly, your emotions bubbling up in your chest. 

But you do, you love him without a doubt and it’s the most terrifying and thrilling feeling you’ve experienced in a long time. 

“I love you too, Poppy.” He whispers to you, his eyes glossy as he fights back tears. 

“Why are you crying?” Wiping the single tear that has started to fall down his cheek. 

“I’m scared— that I’m going to fuck this up. And you’re going to resent me. And I’ll be back to where I was a year ago— alone.” 

Your heart nearly breaks at his confession. 

“That’s not going to happen though.” Brushing his wild hair away from his eyes, caressing his face and hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice. 

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t. But a wise man once told me— we’ll figure it out as we go.” 

His arm wraps around your waist as his other hand cups the back of your neck, bringing your face to his, your nose bumping into his. 

“I love you.” He breathes against your lips. 

And before you even have a chance to reciprocate, he’s kissing you with so much love and feeling. 

“Will you come? To see my showing on opening night?” You ask between feather-like kisses. 

“I wouldn’t miss it, Poppy.”

*

It’s a few hours later when Dieter walks through the front door of Diem’s house, ready for a shower and sleep. 

“You’re home late.” Diem’s voice sounds from the same spot on the couch he’d left her in. 

“Uh, yeah. Lost track of time.”

“Were you at Poppy’s?” She asks with herround of motherly questioning. 

“Yeah, I was. She had that easel, so I went to get it.”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The easel.”

“Oh, I— I must have forgot it. We were talking, lost track of time. I’ll grab it another time. I’m gonna take a shower then head to bed. Night.” Hoping to throw her off his scent, the last thing he wants is to hear her boast about what you and him were up to. 

“Night. Oh hey, Dieter.”

“Yeah.” Turning back towards her. 

“Make sure you wash that cute hand print on your neck.” Her devilish grin beaming at him. 

He gives her a middle finger for good measure, then heads to the bathroom. 

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