#kali writes !

[chaotic-iguana]

how about a five where Javi rejects the reader, so the reader like gets really sad, but one day Javi hears she is going on a date (is not true, Murphy made it up) and he rushed to her apartment and confesses and reader is like ?? What are you talking about, super angsty but super fluffy? Pleaseeee

Out of time | javier peña x f! reader 

summary: javi rejects reader. repents like the idiot he is. (i love him) he is a FOOL in love. fight me. 

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: rejection, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort basically, happy ending. 

A/N: i got you, anon. this promt is the perfect apology for the last one. repentance fr. love u ALL. let me know what you think. also nothing against “hippies” just giving murphy pov. i do however as an indian have a  bone to pick with fake white yoga gurus. it’s gotta be appropriation. 

masterlist

Javi had never been heartless before. Never been cruel before. Now, as you pointedly hunched over your desk in an effort to ignore the chortles and cheap jokes that kept sounding from the men crowded around his desk as they all stood around a nameless note someone -you- had slipped onto his desk. 

He laughed boisterously with them, before crumpling the paper in his fist and dropping it into the bin next to his chair. You refused to so much as raise your head and look his way, feeling the crushing wave of heartbreak sweeping through you. It wasn’t until you felt a tear on your cheek that you realised that you had started crying, and so you muttered an excuse about getting some coffee before rushing to the bathroom and sobbing in a closed stall. So much for Valentine’s day. 

It wasn’t until the end of the day, when you saw him walking your way in the parking lot, that you met his eyes. And you could see, with the set of his jaw; the arch of his brows, that he knew. Before you could scramble into your car, he was yelling after you. 

“Is your new hobby being extended to everyone or did I win the lucky draw? Cute note.” 

Oh, that bastard. 

You scoffed, looking him straight in the eye. “Call it a moment of weakness, Peña. Thought I felt something for you, and it was Valentine’s day. Pretty sure all I feel now is rage, you asshole.” 

A laugh from him. “Don’t be like that, hermosa. Let me know if you feel something between your legs for me, alright?”

Scowling, you turned from him and got into your car. You could have sworn he looked like a kicked puppy as you pulled out of the parking. These past few weeks, you had caught him looking at you more often. Finding excuses to touch you more often, too. A hand on your back, fingers accidentally grazing yours, his knee pressed against your thigh in Murphy’s backseat. Fucking idiot. You didn’t even know if you were madder at him or yourself. You know him. All of fucking Bogota knows him. God knows how you were foolish enough to think he felt anything except for between his legs. 

A few months go by, excruciatingly slowly. It’s as if time itself has decided to fuck with you. You miss his gaze on you, his hands, his smile, him. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague. Stopped looking at him even when he was in the same room, hardly spoke to him even if it was in the middle of a raid, declined Connie’s many many invitations to parties you knew he’d be at. It was just easier to pretend that February the 14th had been a completely normal day. You’re just tired of all of it. It would have been easier not to have said anything at all. 

What you were completely unaware of, however, was that you had a sneaky little shit for a partner. The fact that he had clocked what was going on immediately was completely unbeknownst to you. Both of you pining silently with what Steve dubbed “moony heart eyes”, the radio silence, and the fact that you had stopped talking to Connie just so you didn’t have to show up to her parties? Something had gone wrong. Initially, Steve thought that maybe Javi had made an unwanted move on you - and had damn near scuffed him to death - until he saw Javi’s eyes the next day. Haunted. It seemed that you had managed to take more out of the man than Escobar had. But you weren’t faring much better, either. Irritated and tired and grumbly all the time, refusing to so much as look in Javi’s direction. But you both were pretty much just staying out of each other’s ways, not causing any trouble, so he let it go. For now. 

But then Steve and Javi had to chase a lead down together, and Javi introduced him to an informant who - with a little imagination - looked like your spitting image. The same hair, terrifying similar voice, and a lopsided grin, just like yours. And it clicked. The day that had started it all, and the “anonymous” note Javi had gotten. The idiocy with which you both had handled the situation made him want to run unarmed into a sicario’s den, but he came up with another idea instead. 

Just before a weekend he knew on good authority that you had no plans except for lounging in bed, he started nudging and hinting to Javi the randomest shit about you. Just to reignite the interest. Almost like, you know - bait. 

“Man, her hair looks good. I wonder if she got it done?”

“Hey Peña, d’ya reckon that’s a new skirt? Connie’d kill me if I didn’t ask where from”

“Javi - look - she got her nails done. Before an op? Doesn’t that get a bit…impractical? Hey, I’m jus’ asking.” 

Each time, Steve was met with an irritated eyeroll, scoff, or just flat-out ignored. But around midnight on Friday, he ‘bust out the big guns’, so to speak, making an offhanded comment while jutting his chin out in the direction of your chair. 

“Good thing she left early. Never woulda made it to the date tomorrow mornin’ otherwise.”

Which, instead of being met with the usual options, was met with Javi’s brain almost short circuiting. The sight of his friend, gaping like a fish as his eyes practically bulged out of his head while he stammered out the easiest one-syllable word in the English language is one Steve can never forget. Or let Javi forget, either. 

“W-wha-what?”

And so, like the most devious matchmaker on the planet, Steve proceeded to make up some utter bullshit about a boy he’d supposedly seen you around with, one that had apparently asked you out tonight to meet him for ‘brunch’ tomorrow. Just to fuck with Javi, he made the guy from LA, and a tourist. And white. And the kinda hippie who did yoga and spoke about his newly-discovered chakras all the time. 

Javier could feel the blind panic clawing at his chest, his heart threatening to burst. He didn’t know exactly why, but he had hated every single second you hadn’t spoken to him. Laughed at his jokes. Flashed him your smile, even the sarcastic one. He missed your quips and the way you groaned and swore at him when he pissed you off. He’d convinced himself he could live with that. But this? A date with some idiot he knew wouldn’t treat you right? He couldn’t understand his own feelings compelling him to pack up in a frenzy, ignore Steve’s pointed laugh, scramble into his car and drive straight to your apartment. He didn’t even stop to smooth his hair back, or fix the wrinkles in his shirt from slumping in it all day. No, all that mattered to him in that moment was you. Who was he kidding? He knew exactly why he felt the way he did. He’d just been under the illusion that ignoring it would make it go away, but it hadn’t. He had to fix this now. 

Standing on your doorstep, Javi blinked for a second while marveling at how fast that drive had been - he’d barely registered doing anything since he heard the word date come out of Steve’s mouth. Hesitation clamped a hand over his mouth, his body, and he stood frozen, unsure of whether to knock or just turn around. But if not now, never, right? And who knew how long he would live? Wasn’t this a time he should be getting what he wants, spending time with the people he…loves? 

Before he could overthink himself out of doing it, Javi raised his fist and rapped it against your door, twice. And when you opened the door, rubbing your eyes and standing there in your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, it took a second for his brain to catch up. It wasn’t until you were squinting at him, then stumbling over nothing as your eyes widened that he realised where he was. The hurt on your face in the split second before you moved to close the door had him jamming his foot in the doorframe. 

“Just hear me out, hermosa. I promise if you want me to fuck off after that, I will.” 

After waiting for you to nod and open your door wordlessly, he stalked after you, further into your apartment, stunned by how homely it was. The walls had pictures of you and other people laughing, of art and paintings and sketches that seemed to all have been done by the same person; the sofa was a rich brown leather and the fluffy throw on it just a shade lighter. Everything was carefully coordinated, in color and texture, and he couldn’t help but note the contrast. Some of his stuff was still in boxes. He’d been in Colombia for longer than you, and his stuff was still in boxes. The difference was laughable. 

But when he heard a sniffle from ahead, he found himself walking faster - practically walking into you - before he was planting his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to him, and then gripping the sides of your arms as if they were his salvation. His eyes searched yours, and the heartbreak he found as you tried to look away threatened to make his knees buckle. So he hooked an index finger under your chin to tilt your head up to him, resting his forehead against yours. Moving his thumb to smooth out the furrow in your brow, he huffed at the stubborn frown that refused to budge. 

“I am sorry. I truly am. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to react. I want you, and I did then, too. But I just…didn’t think it was real. I swear I thought you were joking at first. It’s why I let the guys see. Then I saw you in the parking lot, and you were actually sad, and I just panicked. I just don’t think I was ready back then. But I swear to God, I can’t bear another six months of the cold shoulder. I love you, you know. I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realise it.” 

For a whole minute, you just stare at him unblinkingly. Then, suddenly, your face crumples, limbs slackening in his grip. He holds you through it, letting you sob into his chest as he coos reassurances and apologies to you until you pull back from his embrace to look at him questioningly once more. 

“Why now?” Your words make Javi smile, and he cocks a brow at you. 

“You really thought I’d let that idiot take you out before I told you how I feel?” 

You look even more confused now, which is confusing him in turn. 

“Wait, what idiot?” There’s no twinkle in your eye - no smirk tugging at your lips. Not a joke. 

“The one who…asked you out?” Javi cocks his head at you, watching your frown deepen. 

“Who?” The absolute befuddlement on your face is on the verge of making him snigger, and he feels his lips twitching already. 

“The-does Murphy know? That you weren’t busy tonight?” His overworked mind supplies the answer to him, and he has never more in his life wanted to punch and hug his other partner simultaneously. 

“Oh, yeah. He asked cause Connie wanted to know if she could come over? I guess she must have gotten caught- oh. Oh.” Javi gives you a moment to reach the same conclusion he did, and both of you end up bursting out in laughter at the same time. 

But Steve was the one with the biggest grin when, come Monday morning, a bottle of premium whiskey and a brand new watch sat on his desk with a little note: 

Well played, motherfucker. 

What is it they say about couples adopting each other’s habits when they get into a relationship? Javi’d picked up your so-called hobbies within a weekend. 

You ended up spending enough time with each other to pick up everything else, too. Call it cliché, but atleast you weren’t boring. Or, you know, going on dates with imaginary guys that existed only in Steve’s extremely limited imagination. Win-win. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore,@millerscoffee, @ nostalxgic, @sscorpiiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk dividers by @reveriesources

#kali rambles #kali writes #javier peña narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos imagine #narcos #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena fluff #javier pena fanfiction #javi peña x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena imagines #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña imagine #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña smut #joel miller x f!reader #javier peña fluff #javier peña x female reader #javi peña x you #javier peña angst #steve murphy #kali is BACK baby

[meantforinfinitesadness]

Carbon Frozen Obi-Wan AU

Okay! So, the first read more is going to have like all the thinky thoughts that I had whilst building the au itself. So there won't be any dialogue or anything like that. Also, this was taken from discord so it's probably gonna look weird

Oh, @foreverchangingfandomsao3 and @des8pudels8kern (because I thought you would like to know this was happening) here's the first bit

I'm thinking about an Obi-Wan that was put in Carbonite during the war for some reason. Whether that was because he didn't unthaw during The Citadel arc or for another reason. Either way, he's in Carbonite and has been stuck in there for years. years. as in, post-order 66. as in Rebel era.

I'm sure you can see where this was going

I think for sure he was frozen during the war so he knew Cody. I just don't know if they had fallen in love by then or not. Part of me says nah because then I can do this whole thing

ANYWAY

Obi-Wan is found by rebels somehow. somewhere. They find him and they're like "oh shit that's a jedi!" because while the Jedi had been killed, there were some that remember them. Some that know what they kind of looked like

So, they take him back to their base. and they're like "we gotta get this guy out" and they don't know how long he's been in there or anything like that. Cody's there when they bring him in and he's like "holy shit that's my General" and all the rebels are like "huh??" and Cody tells them who that is and it's basically

from the rebels

and Cody's like "yeah, we need to get him out of there." so the rebels are working hard to get him out and it turns out the controls were busted but it's okay! they can fix that!

and they do

and what do they get? They get a very Carbon sick Obi-Wan collapsing out of the carbonite. Cody catches him, obviously. And Obi-Wan can't see anything, but he's terrified because "why is it so quiet? why does it hurt? why is it screaming?" and everyone's like "who? what? what's screaming?" and Obi-Wan, because he's dramatic like that, manages to say "The Force," before passing out in Cody's arms

Cody's obviously in shock that his General is alive and here and he's (mostly) okay. He never knew what happened to the carbonite he was trapped in (or, if I go a different way, he never knew what happened to his General at all) and it's all a bit strange right now for him as well. He kind of zones out as he processes everything and vaguely remembers some of the rebels taking Obi-Wan from him and hauling him off to their medical station. Cody just sort of...sits there in front of the now empty Carbonite...container....thing....and takes a while to come back to himself. When he does, he rushes up and races to where Obi-Wan. Obviously, the medics there don't want him to to disturb Obi-Wan, but Cody's like "please, I need to know this is real. I need to see him" because to him, this is all sort of feeling like a fever dream (it's feeling like his mind is making this all up while he's still under the control of the chip).

He's reluctantly allowed to see the unconscious Jedi and Cody stumbles to his bedside and collapses into a chair next to him because "holy shit my General is alive."

#carbon frozen obi wan au #kali writes

[imonabitchparade]

Uh oh

I might

Do a thing

#kali writes #maybe #original story? #no promises but I really wanna do it #we shall see if my brain lets me #how did this come from me reading Cal Kestis fics?

[reveniemus]

i wrote stranger things fic! bc it has taken over my brain!

#kali writes #stranger things #st fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie

[kalinjdra]

wip wesnesday

izuku doesn't know it but tonight is the night his life changes. for better or worse, is really a matter of view but then again, thats how most people feel about parenting.

izuku had dressed up for this occasion, as much as his broke college student savings would allow.

he put on his tightest pair of jeans, the type that are too tight for regular use so they lay in the back of your closet until you find them again when you're looking for your clubbing outfit. his ass looks phenomenal in it.  he's wearing a fancy green blouse, embroidered with ivy and flowers. the sleeves are sheer with delicate vines trailing up and the top has a deep cut with vibrant flowers sewn onto the collar, calling attention to the pale skin of his chest. izuku has done his full hair routine today, curls fully coiled and bouncy, not frazzled and tied up in a bun.

he leans over the sink, brushing gold glitter onto the green eyeshadow lining his eyes and nose. it's like one huge green bruise marring his face, different colors of shiny highlighter reflecting the light. it doesn't make his eyes pop but he thinks it really sells the look.

hoshiko knocks on the door, peeping in. "all ready to go?" "yep," izuku shoots her a bright, wobbly smile. "how do i look?" "like a paintbomb went off!" she grins, "really sells the forest spirit look though!"

#yes i write entirely in all lower caps #triple trouble #kali writes #kalinjdra

[ambedo-phantom]

i've absolutely had too much caffeine, it's almost midnight, i just submitted an application to a writers' workshop where i will show others my current project, and will work on it through several months. i'm so nervous. i'm nervous they won't accept my application, that seats are full, that they just won't think it's interesting enough. and i'm worried if i'm accepted that i won't be able to afford it. i'm so nervous about all of it i really believe in this story and i want to actually go forward with it and this is the first big step i took. the application form was very thorough and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhh i'm just so nervous and i keep checking my email like they'd answer to my application at this hour lmao. i'm so afraid of getting a big fat NO in my face. anyway i'm just anxious and needed to post it somewhere, even if it is to no one. definitely won't be sleeping any time soon lol. end rant

#sorry for the rant #writing community #writerlife #i'm just so anxious and excited ugh #i'm worried abt the feelings i'm gonna feel if i don't get to join for any reason #i just want to share my art #and i'm really excited about this story which makes me all the more nervous #writer things #writing about writing #sakjdsakfhdghhdfkj #kali writes #kali's oc

[suntails]

loyalty

#bashing my skull thru the floor #its so fun how both of these two would do ANYTHING for malleus and are loyal to their core but like. it manifests differently #like okay. the school vignette where its sebek doing Everything for malleus and silver is more hands-off. the one where he sees jamil w kali #m and is like 'okay yea my way is better' like. that mentally difference translated into the Everything of them is so INCHRESTING #sebek is much more the type to have blinders on and to immediately jump in to what malleus is saying. silver is more levelheaded abt shit #like hes more likely to hesitate if something is off yknow? im gaahhahh im trying to beam my thoughts into ur head. gesturing vaguely at the #the picture describes itself u dont need me to write my little novels here (i will anyways) #mwah mwah if u read this far welcome to my favorite person club <3 <3 an ELITE group u should feel honored #twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #silver vanrouge #<3 #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #i need the OB NOW #suntails #oh yea also more silver head chopping #dont think i forgot

[aurorangen]

It was late into the night and Renee was back at the station. She needed to find the problem with Vincent's phone and why his messages didn't send. Renee relayed all the information Vincent told her and he emphasised using the hospital wifi. They figured his phone was hacked this way and someone was spying on him, preventing him from making calls or messages. With the cyber security knowledge of Captain Vazquez, they tracked the IP address of the device used to intercept Vincent's phone. And the location was Strangerville.

Now Renee had all sorts of thoughts in her head. Despite it being late at night, she found the whole process fascinating. And all the links to Strangerville. The police may be the only way to uncover more about the place and find out what the hell is going on there. Perhaps she should switch from her history course to criminology and become a detective. Yes, she will do that. Renee doesn't like history as much as she did anyway and she liked the idea of solving crimes.

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #postcard legacy #postcard gen 3 #billy reichmann #renee reichmann #kali vazquez #i know nothing about hackers and police tracking im just winging it #its sims anyways doesnt have to be fully realistic whatever makes sense for the story imo! they hacked paytons too #but i didnt write it up there #i linked intercept to that post #bc of hackers intercepting a device not like a kidnapping 'intercept' #i was trying to mislead everyone there on purpose to make you #think vincent was caught and disappeared like that!!! i love my plot #now the barista and bodyguard links to everything and strangerville #all these small clues 😏 and im not following this generations rules entirely im making my own twists to everything 😏

[helena-thessaloniki]

Can't stop thinking about Night Country. That feminine rage is cold and hard; old, older than everything else, and buried deep. That a woman alone is a dead woman; a woman alone is the most dangerous thing. That a man's ego is more important than a woman's life. That a woman who speaks up isn't silenced, she's destroyed. That women are strongest when they're together, when they speak, when they sing. When they're seen.

That what men want for themselves is reason enough to lay waste to everything else. That when it's weighed on the scales, their chance to live a little longer is worth more than a baby's first breath. That they'll do whatever it takes, even when it poisons all of our water.

How a mother dies and her daughter dies too, but a son can't live until he's killed his own father. How women only have power when they lie, assume the role of men, align themselves to men, or die.

And when they will no longer clean up after them.

When they honor who came before, paint the protest on their face, and learn their real name. When they emerge from the ice, leave the night behind and walk toward the sun instead of into the sea. When they shape their own stories. When their tongue is returned to them.

What a fucking masterpiece.

I guess she wanted to take them. I guess she ate their fuckin' dreams from the inside out and spit their frozen bones.

#night country #true detective spoilers #true detective night country #true detective s4 #evangeline navarro #liz danvers #issa lópez #the most metaphorical shit I've ever seen and I am here for it #fucking genius writing #feminine rage #absolute credit where credit is due to the indigenous women and people at the heart of this story #true detective #jodie foster #kali reis

[chaotic-iguana]

quick psa

hi lads!

i don't do discord anymore because it was getting....orwellian. reach out to me on here, my dms are always open.

alternately, there's some stuff i've seen about servers being used to shit on other writers or smaller writers or whatever the fuck.

not only is that elitist as hell, it is genuine cunt behavior. if you're a writer, no matter big or small, you put your work out there and im proud of you.

lately, far too many people have overcomplicated this so let me recontextualise. we are online, we write as a hobby, and the absolute least we can do is be nice to each other. if you can't meet that minimum, get the fuck off my blog.

im someone who likes making friends and reaching out, which is why im going to maintain that and say i do NOT shit on writers on this page. that being said, if you are someone who fails to interact with your own readers or to respond to smaller writers because you're "big" or elite I regret to inform you that in truth, your head is a little too far up your own ass.

if you think the fact that YOU specifically liking my work because again ur "bigger" or more "elite" is going to be taken as a favor rather than the compliment it should be, i cordially invite you again, to get the fuck off my blog. dont condescend to me. this is a hobby. gtfo.

also stop circlejerking on discord goddamn

rant over. come be friends with me im nice i just don't like wankers.

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #kali rambles #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us x reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader #javi p #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña x female reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #fanfic writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #rant post #joel miller fanfic #javier pena x reader #din djarin x reader smut #din djarin x reader

[meantforinfinitesadness]

Though I've not been able to work on the prompts I've been sent (im trying I promise), I did manage to write a little snippet from my Darth Umbra au (sithywan my beloved).

Also, I've been informed by an anon that they didnt know I write and so for those that didnt know I kind of do that, heres my ao3!

Anyway, Darth Umbra snippet below the cut if you wanna check it out.

"They are sentient." Umbra's soft voice breaks the monotonous sound of rain pattering against the window.

Dooku doesn't stop his tapping on the pad before him, his attention focused solely on the screen. "What is?" He asks half-mindedly.

"The clones."

Dooku stops his tapping. He lifts his gaze and turns around to face his apprentice.

Umbra stands there with wide eyes, unblinking even with the hard stare Dooku is leveling at him.

"Oh?"

"You said they weren't." Umbra replies.

"And how would you know they are not?" Dooku asks, steepling his fingers and narrowing his gaze.

Umbra is unfazed as he says, "they have minds of their own. They think and feel, just as you and I. Why would say they are not sentient? Those are all things sentients do."

"You've spoken to them," Dooku concludes.

Umbra blinks. "Yes."

The lighting from Dooku's fingers is fast and Umbra doesn't have time to stop it.

#kali writes #darth umbra #sithywan #sith obi wan

[sweeturis]

where was the scene where noah had to be “harnessed up”? where was the scene with lucas, mike, and will wearing winter jackets? where was lonnie, since his car was in the california poster? where was kali and her gang, since they’ve been seen in bts pics? where was the mike finn described, who was “trying to be as normal as possible and keep on a normal path” and “might be into some new things”?

i am genuinely so confused. it’s like they cut out half the scenes they filmed.

#some shit is just bad writing like max’s letters never being brought up again or the reason for mike being distant from will and not being- #-able to hug him not being explored. but some stuff was just genuinely confusing ?? #maybe they’ve already started filming season 5 (and the finn stuff is because he didn’t know what stuff they shot would be in what season) #but that doesn’t explain why lonnie’s car was in the california poster #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #will byers #kali prasad #byler #mine #mine: stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4

[diordrysdale]

thrill of the rush ⋆ jim hopper

soft!dark!jim hopper x college!female!reader

word count ⋆ 1.4k

warnings ⋆ smut! minor dni, age gap (reader is a college student), semi-public sex, degradation kink, spit kink, slapping, size kink, dubcon, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, daddy kink, submissive!reader, mean!jim,

author’s note ⋆ older fictional men *sighs in hornyness* + no spoilers, this isn’t really set on a specific season or plot, just a little au <3

don’t forget to give me some love, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

you had taken over his mind completely.

everything reminded him of you.

from the smoke of his cigarettes that you whole-heartedly hated— as you’d told him countless times, but you swoon either way when he places the stick between his lips, lighting it up— to the moonlight that decorated the summer nights of june you’d spent sneaking around with him.

everyone was curious as to why hawkins’ stargirl was suddenly attached at hip with the chief of police.

oh, they’d be dumbfounded if they knew if the unexpected friendship was far from innocent.

if they were to learn how insatiable they both became for each other.

he was no longer ashamed of how much he adored spending time between your thighs— he had lawfully memorized the taste of your slick on his tongue.

but you had become distant this week, blowing him off with lousy excuses.

he knew something was going on.

removing his hat, he stepped into the library where his eyes darted across the room, convinced you’d be hidden behind a book-

“ahem.” marisa, the librarian cleared her throat at the sight of the cop.

he nodded once, irking at how uncomfortable the atmosphere had immediately become, both parties reminiscing at how he apparently forgot to call her after a lousy date once upon a time.

he shuffled away, ears perking up at the quiet humming in the corner and the tapping of your sneakers against the carpet floor.

“hey,” he spoke, stomach churning when your head whipped up with widened [e/c] eyes.

“hopper… what’re you doing here?” you stood from your chair slowly as he circled around the table, reaching for your hand as he tugged you between the bookshelves.

“you weren’t answering your calls, so I assumed you weren’t in your dorm,” he mentioned, leaving you to lean gently against the books as you glanced up at him.

“I needed to clear my head, so I just- i-“ he cupped your cheek with his large hand and halted your stuttering, frowning a bit.

“what’s wrong?” he mumbled, watching you sigh with teary eyes as you fiddled with the buttons of his uniform.

“it’s stupid.” you bite back tears, not giving a single thought to his thumb that begun to trace your pouting lips, lust in his eyes.

he had the weight of a long fucking day on his shoulders, he just needed to feel you on his cock.

“c’mon, sweetheart, tell me,” he urged as his free hand disappeared under your mini skirt, his fingers playing with your cutesy, cotton panties.

“last friday, w-when you dropped me off at my dorm…” you trailed off when his large hand forcefully tugged your underwear down your legs, leaving them to puddle around your toes.

“keep talking.” he grumbled, shoving your legs apart his own as his thick fingers found your clit immediately, causing you to whimper and glance around the empty library.

“I-I- um, I got a phone call a-and- fuck!” you cursed out softly as his middle and ring finger circled rapidly on your pulsing button, before he abruptly stopped and rose his palm to smack your cheek, turning your face to the side.

“do I gotta wash your mouth with soap?huh?” he gripped your cheeks and forced you to look at him with the tears streaming down your face, “I’ve taught you better, haven’t i?”

you nodded rapidly, leading his hand back to your heat, “yes- i’m sorry, daddy.”

he grins in satisfaction as he gathers your dripping honey and spreads it across your lips, massaging them a bit for you like a gentlemen.

“so, I got a phone call and it was a boy.” you continued, squirming a bit as he frowned, maneuvering your body, guiding you to sit on the ground as he removed his jacket, placing it behind you— it was like a routine, you knew exactly what to do: lay down on his uniform jacket, spread your legs, and thank him for what was to come.

“a boy, huh?” he hovers on top of you, unbuckling his slacks as you help him slightly pull them down like a good girl, practically salivating at his hardened shaft.

“y-yes, he wanted to know if I’d go out with him-“ you gasped as his thumb zeroed on your swelling clit, making your shut your thighs around his hand but it was no use, your jaw fell slack as your hands attempted to shove him away, it was pathetic, you were already coming for him within seconds, slowly coating his gifted hand with your cream.

“and who the fuck was this boy, baby?” he continued to touch your puffy folds, pride filling his chest at your aftershocks and bratty whines.

“billy. billy hargrove.” you look up at him, terrified of his reaction, and just as you thought, his expression was cold.

you hadn’t thought of him as the jealous type, but there was just something about you that made him feel possessive— he just loved you just a little too much.

“and you wanted to go with him?” he reveals his cock, painfully erect as he rubs it up and down your slit, coating himself in you, as if you were claiming him.

“you wanted to go on a little date with him, like a fucking whore?” he spat cruelly, prodding his engorged tip against your hole— and you couldn’t admit it out loud, but his brutal words made your head spin.

“n-no,” you whimpered, preening at the way his calloused hand began to knead at your clothed tits, he wanted to feel you all over, but there was only so much you could do in the secluded back area of the library.

“you wanted to see if he could make this dumb little cunt feel good?” he made his cock slap on your pussy, the wet noises echoing loud enough for the two of you to etch into your minds forever.

“only you can make me feel good, daddy, I promise— ” you cried out as you were interrupted by the sudden thrust of his cock through your wet, velvety hole, fucking it with a slow pace, but you knew what was next, he wouldn’t be gentle.

“I asked a yes or no question,” he panted as one hand gripped at your hips, and the other held himself up, and before you could think, he spat onto your cheek.

“you know what to do, slut,” he smirked when your trembling fingers reached for the saliva treading down your skin, gathered it and brought it to your lips, making them glimmer, “now, answer me.”

“n-no, he could never make me feel good, not like you do,” your confession is followed with wanton moans, feeling his cock ram into you over and over again, his heavy breaths heating up your neck as he left sloppy kisses down your skin.

it made you realize he hadn’t kissed your lips yet, it made you feel like a his very own sex doll, and even though it made you feel dirty, you loved it.

“fuck my pussy, daddy— faster, please,” your legs wrapped tightly around his sturdy waist, wanting nothing other that to feel his penetration deeper, feeling every ridge, every nudge of the pulsing head of his cock against your cervix— you were mesmerized.

“what’d I say about those filthy words?” you were positive he’d smack your clit just how you wanted, but you cried out when the rough fingers of his free hand ran beneath your blouse, only to pinch and tug at your sensitive nipples.

“you love how this feels, right baby? you drive me fucking insane,” the tears running down your cheeks made his balls tighten, thighs shook as he tried to drag out his orgasm, but it was too late, he was shooting his hot load deep inside of you.

you hadn’t even realized he didn’t have a condom on, but, fuck, it felt amazing.

“shit,” he breathed out, lifting your shirt to lower down and suckle at your breasts, giving him some sort of calm and comfort as he came down.

“daddy,” you whimpered when his teeth dragged against your nipples, hoping he’d detach, yet your back arched for more.

“we’re going back to my place, sweetheart,” his forehead rested against your chest, his mustache tickling your skin, “but before that, we’re giving billy hargrove a visit.”

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

a/n; this took a dark turn but I seriously cannot stop thinking about this man he makes me FERAL

#kali writes ! #stranger things #Jim hopper #david harbour #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x female reader #jim hopper x female reader smut #stranger things season 4 #david harbour x reader #david harbour x reader smut #stranger things smut #Jim hopper fluff #Jim hopper angst

[ratanslily]

y'know.. it's funny how the author thinks Ratan will be chill and have a happy ending with Amala on Rage of the Goddess ending when he acted like this👇🏽 when Devi was skeptical of Goddess Kali

like be for real right now. Ratan would hate Rage!Amala's guts for the shit she spews out of her mouth for India and Hinduism and their Gods. he'd never leave India with her! she (remy) can't even write his character in accordance, deadass💀

#romance club #rc ratan #ratan vaish #just came across this line in my passion gameplay #tbh Devi came off as dumb in that 💀 I don't like that #kali: flame of samsara #kali: call of darkness #i should just write my hcs abt ratan. they're better than what remy thinks he is

[quesadilla-day]

first-time mind-sharing (what if we were both telepathic) (what if we kissed 🥰💕😍)

#genshin impact #scarahida #nahida #scaramouche #wanderer #hat guy #HAHAHAHAHAHHAA #this one was a fit of inspiration #i finally fixed the colors i think #i think it looks good at least!!! #hooray #i love writing little fan fics like this #art #mine #additional note: telepatía by kali uchis

[konigbabe]

little storm (part iii; set me ablaze)

final part

Author: @konigbabe

Pairing: Keegan Russ x (vague and not described) fem!OC

Word count: 3.8k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; explicit language; keegan calls OC 'kid'; canon compliant; pre-canon; smut; p-in-v sex; kissing; vaginal fingering; cunnilingus; slight dom!Keegan; soft(er) sex; female gendered anatomy; 3rd POV

Summary: Months pass after their latest meeting; yet here she stands, in his room, way past midnight...

A/N: It's been months since I last wrote any piece of creative writing so excuse the possible slight change in tone. I tried to keep it together as much as I could.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3

little storm: part i • part ii

A part of her is paralyzed, afraid to make a move; afraid that if she does, she'll break the spell, that he'll retreat back behind his walls and the moment will be lost.

Desire bursting through her veins like liquid fire, all she wants to do is tear off that damn mask – see his face, see the full expression as pleasure takes over him. Yet the mask stays on.

There is an air of impropriety in the way her fingers trace the fresh wounds adorning the delicate skin over her knuckles. A gentle tap echoes through the stillness of the night as she stands before the wooden door, uncertain of what awaits her on the other side. A part of her yearns for him to answer, while another is hesitant, wavering in indecision.

Time had slipped by like a thief in the night since she last saw him.

She’d never admit it but she misses the feel of his presence. The annoyed tone of his voice, the watchful eyes of his that never seemed to miss. They shared a part of their past. Not a significant one, neither one that’d change their lives; but it still made her heart warm to find out that she might be the first person outside his team that saved the Keegan Russ. At least these words were said to her multiple times to her by her colleague after they found out what happened.

The door swings open with ease, revealing a shadowy figure with a mask obscuring his features. Keegan stands still, broad shoulders blocking the view into his room.

Words pool in her mouth, caught by her teeth when attempted to spill. Biting the kindness away, she can’t help but chuckle.

“Damn…you really never take the mask off, huh?” she slips past Keegan’s frame, arm brushing against the hard surface of his chest as she uninvitedly enters the room, “even when you’re alone—“

Her eyes dart around the bedroom. The room is spotless, an oddity in this dim, sulky space. It's too quiet, even the sound of her own breathing feels like an intrusion. The full moon casts a grey hue on everything, making it feel like time has frozen in this room. It matches his demeanor perfectly, she thinks to herself.

“—you’re here.”

Keegan’s voice breaks the silence as he turns around to face her. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, scan her every move as she approaches his bed, noticing the sheets neatly arranged. Her usually confident steps falter in his presence. Usually very secure and confident enough to get by, something about being here, in Keegan’s room, feels intimate.

“What you want, kid?” he meets her steps in the middle of the room.

“I just realized I never got to thank you; for saving me,” her eyes follow him, taking in the way the black military shirt hugs his upper body, vaguely outlining the defined muscles underneath, “twice actually.”

“‘s that all?” he asks.

She looks up at him, trying to read his stoic expression. The sharp and penetrating gaze seem to bore into her very soul. She can't help but wonder what he's thinking, what he sees when he looks at her.

She takes another deep breath, steeling herself to ask the question that's been plaguing her mind since the day she heard. The cuts on her knuckles throb under the bright light, a stark reminder of the past few weeks.

"Why’d you get me into Ghosts?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicker to her knuckles, then back up to meet her gaze. There's a moment of hesitation before he speaks, and she can see the flicker of something in his eyes.

"You're good, kid," he finally answers, his voice measured and calm. "It’d be a waste of potential if you left."

She raises an eyebrow at his answer, surprised by its simplicity. "That all?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Keegan nods, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed. She’d expected something more profound, some hidden meaning behind his actions.

"And here I was," she says, trying to lighten the mood a little, "thinking that I grew on you." She offers him a small smile, hoping to ease the tension between them.

Above Keegan’s tall frame, the analog clock clicks as it strikes way past midnight, yanking her back to reality. The late hour dawns on her as she realizes they have a lot of work to do the next day.

“Well,” she transfers her weight from one leg to another, stopping herself from clapping, “I better get goin’. We have a lot of work tomorrow–or today, should I say.”

She makes her way towards the door, still slightly ajar.

For a moment, Keegan doesn't respond, his silence stretching on as she grips the door handle. But then he speaks, his voice low and gravelly. It makes her stop in her tracks, her back towards him.

“You’re reckless, impulsive, and a pain in my ass,” he remarks, making her pivot to face him, “but you’ve got potential, kid. And that’s something I don’t come across very often.”

His words jolt her, heat creeping across her cheeks. She’s not used to hearing praise from Keegan, especially not when it’s mixed with insults.

"So yeah," he continues, his tone softer now, "maybe you've grown on me a little bit."

She turns back to face him, a small mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Well, I’ll take that.”

As Keegan closes the distance between them, his long strides are quiet but purposeful. The floorboards creak softly beneath his weight, the sound echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. His eyes are fixed on her, unblinking and intense, as he steps up before her.

She can feel his heat emanating from his body, warming her as he moves in closer.

"But don't let it go to your head," he murmurs, "I'll still kick you out if you mess up."

Her heart thuds against her ribs as she faces him, her eyes meeting his. There's something different in his gaze now, something that sends a thrill through her. It's as if he's seeing her for the first time, really seeing her, and she can't help but feel a little dizzy.

“But you’re not my captain,” she teases, her eyes flickering down to his torso. Her fingers twitch with a desire to touch him.

“I still outrank you,” he retorts.

“Oh, c’mon,” she exhales theatrically, “you’ve been a lieutenant for a couple of weeks.”

Silence descends on the room, thick and electric with tension. She breaks the stillness with a soft inquiry.

“How's your side?” she asks softly, reaching out to touch his hip.

“It's fine,” he replies. ���I've had worse.”

It’s at this moment, her arm barely moving in order to touch his side, that she realizes just how close the man before her actually stands. It emits questions in her head – did he move closer on purpose? Or was it the same string that pulled her towards him all those months ago? That made her run through bullets to get him to safety…

Out of reality, as if she’s watching her own body move on its own, her hand reaches for his mask. Slow. Calculated and careful. As if she’s reaching to grab a piece of delicate glass, afraid it might shatter at any moment.

Her fingers brush against the rough surface of the mask, feeling the contours of it, tracing the edges.

Keegan feels her hand on his mask and for a moment, he hesitates.

Her heart races in her chest as she begins to lift it off his face. The pace tantalizing, she offers him an escape route. Enough time to pull away. To stop her.

Yet the man stands still. Frozen in his own body, he allows the woman to do as she pleases. Vulnerable as the moment might seem, she might not be aware of the fact that he carefully calculates his timing.

Only to grab her wrist when she uncovers his mouth. It’s enough; enough for him to trace her jawline, watch her eyes widen, the moon illuminating her features. Him casting a shadow over her form, trapped between his battle-worn body and the wooden door that seem to survive many airstrikes.

A part of her is paralyzed, afraid to make a move; afraid that if she does, she'll break the spell, that he'll retreat back behind his walls and the moment will be lost.

But then he moves, his hand coming up to cover hers, and it's as if a dam has burst inside her. She leans into him, her lips meeting his in a slow, steady kiss gradually increasing in hunger and neediness. She longs to feel his skin, his body. To touch his soul. To let him light that fire within her bones.

Breaking away, Keegan's eyes flutter open at a leisurely pace, fixated on hers. His expression exudes an aura of tranquillity and satisfaction as if he's at long last discovered what he's been yearning for.

He reaches up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her jawline as he leans in for another kiss. This one is slower, more exploratory as if he's trying to savor every moment of it. His movements are deliberate and controlled, like a man who knows what he wants and how to get it.

Keegan's hand slides from her cheek to the back of her head, tangling in her hair as he pulls her closer to him. For her, it's a kiss that tells her that she's not alone, that he's not just her lieutenant, but her ally, her partner, her friend, and maybe something more.

The day-old stubble scratches the delicate skin on her clavicles as his fingers unzip her jacket, undoing the single button at the top of her shirt to reveal more of her softness. Her content moans only fuel the hunger bubbling deep within Keegan’s insides. Hands grasping her hips, she feels like she’s flying as he picks her up.

Her legs cling to his lean frame, like vines entwining a sturdy tree. Gazing into his topaz-blue eyes, illuminated by the moonlight peeking over his shoulder. She only catches a glimpse of his rugged features before he claims her lips once more. The taste of him, the roughness of his stubble, all enveloping her senses.

Keegan’s walls are slowly crumbling down around her as she grasps the back of his neck. Partially covered in his mask, her fingers slip beneath the scratchy material, nails scratching against his scalp. A content hum assures her of her actions.

He lowers her body down onto the bed, his touch like a feather as he pins her war-ravaged body underneath him. She hears the distorted creak of the mattress as their weight meets in unison. Keegan's name slips from her lips in a breathy sigh, as she feels his warm hand glide underneath her shirt, flattening against her tummy. With his body inching closer to her belt, he halts and pauses, hovering just above her skin. A single question hangs in the air between them.

Locking eyes with her, he softly whispers, "Are you sure?"

Without a word, she nods in response, her hand gripping his shoulder tightly as she surrenders to his touch and allows him to undress her. It doesn’t take long until she’s half-naked underneath the masked man; content with his wandering eyes, roaming hands. Lips tracing the contours of her legs – ankles, knees; then indeed thighs, hips.

Keegan takes his time. Hands gripping under her knees, heels digging into his shoulder blades, she feels his lips trace the apex of her thighs. So close to where she wants him the most, a desperate groan makes its way out of her throat. Shamelessly bucking her hips into his mouth, she momentarily swears to hear Keegan chuckle.

Looking down, the man’s eyes are already looking at her face and she can swear that he’s smirking; unable to see the lower, exposed part of his face. Keegan doesn’t waste much time after she lets out another desperate plea, swiftly and with expertise taking off the last barrier between him and her innermost parts, she lays completely vulnerable before him.

The moment his lips brush against her core, his touch sends a current of electricity throughout her body and she feels herself falling into the abyss. Too much time had elapsed since someone had caressed her with such sensuality, and Keegan's deliberate movements brought her back to life.

Bursting with hidden energy, her sounds grow louder the more his tongue delves inside her. Tasting her. Lapping at her like a man dying of thirst; she completely overtakes his mind as he watches the woman before his eyes twist in pleasure. Rapture coursing through her veins like molten magma, all she wants to do is tear off that damn mask – see his face, see the full expression as pleasure takes over him.

Yet the mask stays on.

She feels like she’s been thrown into boiling water; drowning in the feeling of Keegan’s tongue, fingers curling deep inside her. His hands heating the skin of her chest, feeling her hardened nipples underneath the remaining pieces of clothes none of them bothered to discard.

The symphony of her cries when she finally reaches her peak is music to Keegan’s ears, fueling his ardor as he savors everything of hers with unmatched hunger. Unwavering in his passion, if anything, it only grows more fervent as he loses himself in the intoxicating taste.

Something snaps.

Inside Keegan; something breaks.

The cage holding his inner, primal side of his; it escapes.

Keegan's fingers are like a vice around her thighs, an unexpected surprise that has her muscles tense momentarily. His grip only grows tighter as he easily flips her onto her stomach. Her skin aches from the sudden change of position and she feels his lips lightly brush against the back of her thighs. A gasp spills from her throat as Keegan's teeth dig into her plump flesh, a fire of sensations burning in its wake.

Shameful; that’s how she believes that she should feel.

Shameless; that’s how she truly feels.

She can feel his tongue trace the globe of her ass, moving upwards until he reaches her lower back. Blatantly digging her knees into the mattress, her body moves into override. All sense of rational thought fades away as her instincts kick in, driving her movements to a cardinal level. Her body moves with a life of its own, responding to the sensations coursing through her veins.

The desire coursing through her makes even Keegan’s smallest acts seem as if her whole existence depended on him. The way his voice rasps when he whispers into her ear; feeling his hand knead the skin of her ass.

“You never told me your name,” his teeth mark her shoulder.

That’s when she feels the side of his face brush against hers, a sudden rush of realization washes over her — he’d taken off the mask.

She answers with a name as sweet and gentle as the lilac flowers she'd pick on summer days, as beautiful as the melody of her father's song that used to echo through the kitchen walls, yet still as false as the family she was born into.

His hand clutches the back of her neck, pinning her in place and trapping her in the moment of wild passion, caging in any curiosity or doubt. She unsuccessfully tries to twist around and see him, but instead finds herself pressing further into the lone pillow adorning his bed.

When his fingers scorch her oversensitive folds, each stroke seeking out pleasure spots within; it makes her forget it all. Her hands fist the bed linen, almost tearing it from the mattress.

“Fuck me already,” her impatience grows as he toys with her more. Unbothered by her writhing body. By the way she desperately tries to back into him; to feel him inside. The fabric of his shirt still brushing against her bare back as Keegan stills, hearing her raring demand.

“Manners,” he challenges. He tortures her with his fingers; two of them completely buried, it's enough to bring her back when she would have felt right at home sinking into an infinite loop of pleasure, "I'll keep going until you ask nicely."

“Keegan,” his name tumbles from her lips now more as a plea than as a word, “please," she surrenders willingly, craving for more.

It’s then that she can hear the buckle of his own belt. Feeling its part slide over her bare ass as Keegan works his pants down; not fully, just enough to free his aching cock. It doesn’t really matter to him at this moment, whether he’s fully naked or not. He only wants one thing; and that one thing is laying beneath him. Bare. Vulnerable. Willing and oh so desperate for him.

Fisting his own cock, he can feel his heart pumping; hard fast thuds against his ribcage. All while his other hand grips the pillow right next to her head. A guttural moan escapes his lips as her legs move wider, inviting him in.

His name a sonnet, a mixture of moans and mewls fills the darkened room. The spongy head of his cock teases her entrance, collecting her wetness. Occasionally dipping inside just enough to feel her opening up to him.

He wants to hear her beg once more.

Determined to do it; “Fuck,” is all he’s capable of saying when her walls enclose his tip before he withdraws again. Teeth grazing the same spot on her shoulder, sure to leave a mark after he’s done with her, he continues to repeat the action – just the tip; in and out, drawing sweet cries out of her.

His name becomes a safe haven when mixed with her moans; her writhing body, ass pushed against his hips, thighs enclosing around his.

Gripping the metal headboard, her words fuel his starvation. Tongue tracing the slight teeth marks on her soft flesh, hand flicking over her aching nub, its the simple, sweet little word, the plea, that does it for him–

–”please”.

His pace is slow; teasing. Tempted to thrust all the way as for his it’s been way too long since he felt the exquisite squeeze around his cock, he continues the leisurely tempo. His fingers, circling around her clit, follow the rhythm.

It’s calculated; as everything Keegan does. Steady, quick thrust in. Punishingly slow thrust out. His desire to savor her, to savor the feeling overtaking her very own primal needs. Yet, she’s content. Chest pushed into the hard mattress, the feeling of springs pushing back against her; hand grasping the headboard, feeling its cold surface against her heated skin.

Keegan's rough breath tickles the skin on her neck as his face nuzzles against it, his lips occasionally brushing against her flesh. Her fingers delve into his hair, surprised by its length and texture. Soft and fluffy, with curls that she can feel around his temples. But even with her grip on his hair, she still can't quite see him – he remains a mystery to her.

Even now, deep within her walls, feeling the head of his cock kiss her cervix, Keegan Russ still remains as puzzling as the depths of the sea, unfathomable and enigmatic.

Her hand grips the back of his neck, pushing him forward; lips connecting in a crushing kiss, she can feel the muscles in her neck strain as she desperately sucks on his lower lip. Pulling away with a groan, his hands grip her waist; a single tug forces her lower body to move back on her knees. Breasts firmly pressed into the mattress, arms stretched forward, his name escapes her lips as his thrusts grow impatient. Hard and relentless, hands grasping the skin on her lower body, anywhere he can reach and squeeze.

The pillow muffles her cries of passion for only a moment; until Keegan moans out her name, hand sneaking around her clavicles, to grip the side of her neck just enough to bring her up to him. Back to his chest, the fabric of his shirt scratching her exposed skin, his breath fanning over her ear.

Eyes closed, lost in pleasure and pain, she thrusts backwards, meeting Keegan halfway. Hands gripping his forearm, she can feel the tension building.

Her vision is filled with shimmering pinpricks of light, as though her entire being were consumed by a starry night. Keegan's body moulds to hers, holding her tight in his firm embrace as she reaches the peak of ecstasy. His voice rasps out her name like a prayer, and he clings desperately to her neck, burying his face against her skin.

Breathing heavily, he clings to her as if his life depends on it. His fingers dig into her back, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. She can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his ragged breaths tickle her skin. He's holding her so tightly that it's almost painful; she swears can sense the fear and desperation in his touch. Despite the intensity of the moment, she can't help but feel a sense of comfort in his embrace, knowing that he needs her just as much as she needs him.

It’s not long after that he stirs before getting up, watching as she lets her spent body fall onto his very own bed, face towards his window; she watches as the moon shines over the top of the nearby building while listening to the rustling next to her before a towel lands next to her head.

Turning to face him, a sense of disappointment washes over her as she sees Keegan with his mask back on. Fully dressed, in stark contrast to her completely naked body laying on his bed, illuminated by the night sky. A picture he surely will remember for a long time.

She stares at him, intensely analyzing his stoic expression while her body still pulsates with his own cum leaking out of her cunt.

“You good?” she breathes, breaking the silence between them.

He hesitates before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine, kid. Just...trying to process everything."

A slight grin pulls at the corner of her lips.

“You shouldn’t call me kid now, Keegan,” getting up, she walks towards him, still completely naked, feeling the cold breeze wash over her glistening skin, “makes you look like a paedophile.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh softly, “you’re right.”

“Think I can use your shower,” she asks, “I’m quite sticky if you get me.”

Arms crossed, he nods towards the door next to his bed. She can feel the tension emanating from him and decides to break the silence, "y’know, for someone who just had sex with me, you're awfully distant."

“It’s not like that,” he huffs as she makes her way towards the bathroom door.

"Ah, I see. So, I guess that means no cuddling?" she says playfully, hoping to lighten the mood.

She can see his eyes quint beneath the mask; a small smile surely to decorate his face. But even now, she can still see the walls he's built around himself. "I don't cuddle.”

She shrugs it off, "Suit yourself," and enters the bathroom, leaving him alone in the room. The sound of the shower soon engulfs the space. Keegan stands there for a moment, lost in thought, before finally making his way towards the door. He takes one last glance at the bathroom door, his mind racing with conflicting emotions, before turning to leave.

#keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #keegan russ x you #keegan russ #keegan russ x oc #cod #cod x reader #cod ghosts #keegan cod #cod keegan russ #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #keegan call of duty #ghosts #moni writes #keegan x kali #kali #smut #call of duty keegan