#Honestly who gets a dog and then refuses to pick up after it
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Not to whinge but can the next big Tik Tok trend PLEASE be putting your litter in the fucking bin and not dropping it in the street like a baby
#Then we can get grown adults to pick up after their dogs as the next thing#Honestly who gets a dog and then refuses to pick up after it#Arrogant entitled pricks#I know it's a complaint as old as time but honestly who just drops their litter in the street what the hell#I mean how spoilt do you have to be#It's not just The Youth TM though they get the blame for it most of the time#But the fact it hasn't gone away over the years amazes me
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Yandere Farmer character x GN reader
Concept: Yandere Farmer x GN reader
Tw: Delusional Yandere, Age-gap?, Obsessive, Possessive
PART 2 <-
-Yandere Farmer who lives alone on a farm. There was no one to comfort him, make him any meals, or lay in bed with. It hadn’t dawned on him how much he desired a family.
-A cute little spouse who would stay home and greet him with a kiss. They’d whisper sweet words as they threw their arms around his neck. Children that would run to his side after a long day.
-Yandere Farmer who opens the door to three college students. They’re all standing on his porch eagerly asking if they can stay the night. They explain that their car died on the road. Honestly, he doesn’t give a shit. He’s about to kick them off his property until they offer him money.
-Yandere Farmer who reluctantly lets them in. He tells them they can figure out sleeping arrangements in the living room. He’s about to go to bed when one of the students stops him. They ask for a favor. Their stubborn friend refused to follow them and insisted on sleeping in the car. They ask for him to pick up their friend.
-And he’s about to decline the favor. Until they offer some more cash incentives. He groans internally but hops into his red pickup truck. His trusty revolver is strapped onto his side. However, he deploys his two guard dogs to watch the house before he leaves.
-He drives down the road until he spots an abandoned car. He gets out of the truck with his flashlight.
- Slowly, he approaches the car windows. He shines a light inside and his heart skips a beat. There you are fast asleep tucked in with a blanket.
- The moonlight shines over your face as you snuggle deeper into the blanket. You were the prettiest thing he'd seen in a long time.
-You were so vulnerable. What if he was a bad guy? It would be so easy to take advantage of you. Good thing he stumbled upon you instead of some creep.
-It feels like hours as he simply stares at your face. You look like a fairy who descended upon earth. He felt wrong waking you up from such a peaceful slumber. Yet, it’d be much safer in his arms at his house rather than this dingy car.
“Ay, Wake up.”
-He watches as your eyes begin to open in confusion. You look around until he knocks on the window. Your eyes dart up and go wide. Just like a deer caught in the headlights.
-He explains the situation then insists you get into his car. You reply that you’d rather spend the night in the car. You don’t want to trouble him.
-How sweet. You think you have a choice.
-In the end, you were forced into his pickup truck. He threw your luggage in the trunk then slid in the driver seat. The car choked to life as he shifted it into drive. The atmosphere was tense.
-You’re silent. He’s silent.
- Yandere Farmer who doesn’t know what to talk about. He doesn’t have much experience interacting with other people. He grew up mainly isolated with overbearing parents who were abusive. (Good thing he fixed that problem though)
-However, his gruff voice breaks the uncomfortable tension between you two.
“What’s yer name?”
“Y/n” You answered back meekly.
“Got a loverboy waiting for you?”
-You shake your head. He listens to how you mentioned that you’ve never been in a relationship.
-Good.
#yandere x reader#yandere#male yandere#yandere farmer#yandere x darling#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#tw yandere#original yandere#yandere smut#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere drabble#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere stories#yandere fic#gn!reader#yandere x gn reader
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The Quest for a Second Life - Part 6 - 50 Shades of Audacity (2)
KAKASHI x ALPHA!READER
Summary: An office scandal, the start of your gold digging arc, and a mysterious house in the countryside... It still annoyed you that you had to have a job, but honestly, it could have been worse. This was kind of exciting! GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple
Word count: 8.7k
Warnings: N-sfw content, workplace violations, vague discussion of canon specific suicide, playful smacking, playful physical restraint. All alphas have dicks, fyi.
A/N: Hey! We're rapidly reaching the end of this story now! Only one more chapter before the epilogue, crazy! Time has flown. Happy holidays to everyone, especially @omeganronpa who is working so hard, hopefully a break is coming soon 😖 Not much porn in this one, as I'm saving it for the finale. Enjoy~
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue
Going for a Sunday drive was always a nice way to spend a morning. Well, it wasn’t Sunday and technically you weren’t driving, but the point still stood.
You had your nose basically glued to the window as the unfamiliar city sights bled into an equally unfamiliar, but timeless countryside. Fields, animals, trees, they all rushed past, familiar and new in the same breath. You were pleasantly surprised that this erotica world city didn’t have suburbs; who knew you just had to die to benefit from good city planning?
Kakashi’s fancy car was growing on you too, with its heated seats and spacious leg room, and you couldn’t deny that it was also having an impact on how much you were enjoying this drive. It even had six cupholders. Six. Kakashi didn’t even have that many friends in total, but even having the choice to have six beverages felt like a luxury experience.
Kakashi was also in his fancy car, of course, but he was considerably less interested in the view, and more interested in the paperwork he’d brought along. What a boring place to put one’s attention; you needed to rectify that immediately.
“If you could pick one of your dogs to magically learn English, who would you pick?” His pen not even slowing for a moment, Kakashi answered with no hesitation.
“Anyone but Pakkun.”
Hmm, maybe a harder question would work?
“What’s 472 + 9012?”
“9484.”
Something shocking perhaps?
“Does your pubic hair also defy gravity?”
“No comment.”
Oh, something weird would surely get his attention!
“If I were a worm, would you still love me?”
“No.”
You huffed, sinking down into your heated seat. He hadn’t even paused in the paperwork, so your plan had thoroughly failed. You wondered why Kakashi, a man you’d seen climb out of a window to avoid a work meeting once, was now diligently completing paperwork when he had a good excuse not to. Whatever, he’d probably already procrastinated on it enough that Iruka had threatened him into finishing it. No one ignored direct instructions from Iruka, even though he wasn’t technically high up enough to give instructions at all.
You sighed, turning back to the window to keep yourself amused, acknowledging that you’d lost the battle for Kakashi’s attention to his paperwork. Maybe it was the effect of the car journey, or maybe you were just sappy, but you quickly found yourself reminiscing.
Two weeks ago, you never would have imagined being here with him like this. It was almost difficult to wrap your head around how much your relationship had changed in such a short amount of time, how comfortable you’d both become with each other. Kakashi still took his role as ‘professional nuisance’ seriously of course, revelling in winding you up as what seemed like his main past time and hobby.
He was also still late to meetings, refused to do work, skipped lunch if you didn’t bring it to him… Okay, so maybe not that much had changed. But hey, you kissed frequently now, that was new! And your name was also currently the hottest topic in every break room at work.
That very first day after the tryst in Kakashi’s office had to have been your favourite in terms of gossip shockwaves. It had turned out that Kakashi did have another spare shirt for you to wear home after both your shirt and his first spare had been ruined, and the next morning, groggy and tired, you grabbed it to wear to work without thinking about what you were doing.
You had known that there was gossip about you and Kakashi leaving work together, but apparently the security guard’s version of events, that you had both come back to work together after hours, you without a shirt, and then locked yourself in his office, was in hot debate. Many refused to believe that terminal bachelor Kakashi Hatake would ever sleep with his secretary. ‘Something out of a bad porn book’, you had heard multiple times. How ironic.
So, when you walked in late, wearing Kakashi’s shirt, you corroborated the security guard’s story and confirmed the rumours all at once.
The break room fell silent the second you walked in, even though it had been filled with loud debate moments before. Everyone turned to look at you. Have you ever lifted a rock and had all the bugs underneath it suddenly freeze? It felt like that.
“Good morning,” you said, shooting everyone a hesitant smile. “Sorry I’m a bit late today.”
You watched as everyone’s eyes flickered from your face, down to your shirt, and then up to your face again. The room was uncomfortably silent.
Suddenly Asuma cheered, and chaos descended on the room. Not everyone seemed as thrilled as Asuma though. Kurenai only sighed and passed Asuma a handful of cash. Anko did the same, but with significantly more swearing and threats towards his delicate parts.
(You would find out later that Asuma had seen the security footage of your interview and had proceeded to make many, many bets that you and Kakashi would be fucking within a week. Because of Kakashi’s ‘no dating’ reputation, you were sure he had raked in a significant amount.)
Iruka’s face went bright red, and he sputtered for a moment before turning around and pretending to organise the mug cupboard. He did not succeed in hiding the small bit of blood now dripping from his nose.
In contrast to Iruka’s not so subtle hiding, Gai came right up to you and thumped you on the back, shouting about youth.
Yamato only stared at you, his already large eyes wider than normal. You weren’t sure what emotion he was embodying, but it was certainly creepy.
Maybe it was best if you just went to your desk?
Just as you turned to leave, Gai had one more final thing to say.
“I hope your love blossoms with intensity!” he said, giving you a thumbs up.
Why did that feel like he was giving you permission to fuck Kakashi?
People did slowly get used to the idea that you and Kakashi were something more than coworkers. It helped that you had lunch together most days, which gave people a chance to get used to seeing you together.
On days where your schedules didn’t align for lunch though, you made a point to grab dinner together. Your favourite by far had been dinner at his penthouse flat. Not only was that the night where you’d first called Kakashi your boyfriend, but it was also the first time you were introduced to his dogs.
It felt strange to be walking through a block of flats that was so fancy. The lobby had looked like something from a 5-star hotel, and you had had to show your ID before the front desk would let you upstairs, even though Kakashi had informed them that you’d be coming. Security reasons, they had said. You wondered what other high-profile people lived here.
Kakashi had the penthouse flat, so his was the only one on the top floor. You exited the lift and were immediately confronted with his front door. It wasn’t quite as big as the door in the library you had chosen his story from, but it was still an impressive size.
If you were being honest, it was a little intimidating.
The intimidation factor was shattered as soon as you knocked on the door however, because the second your fist made contact with the wood, a cacophony of barking sounded from the other side.
“Yes, yes, I’m going, you can stop barking.” You could faintly hear Kakashi’s voice through the door. “Bisuke! Get off there!”
The barking still continued.
“Sit, sit. All of you sit! I mean it, or you won’t be getting any treats today.”
Slowly, the barking and the sound of claws clacking ceased, and suddenly the door was pulled open. Standing there, in all his homey glory, was Kakashi.
You were used to seeing him exclusively dressed in suits, but he was wearing lounge clothes. Lounge clothes! Uptight, always ready for a fancy restaurant Kakashi, was wearing a grey tracksuit, with a long-sleeved top in dark blue, and fluffy slippers.
A smile grew on your face; perhaps you were biased, but these suited him a lot more. They still looked expensive, but they were just so much cosier than his normal get up. It made you want to hug him. You resisted for a moment before remembering what world you were in and what the point of this whole second life thing was, and then your resistance crumbled into nothing.
You threw yourself at him for a hug.
“Oof.” Kakashi floundered in surprise for a moment, but when you didn’t let go, he tentatively patted you on the back. You giggled and squeezed him harder, burying your face into his neck.
There were no scent patches! He wasn’t wearing scent patches! Giddy, you took a deep breath of his scent, letting it fill and sit in your lungs. Yes, he smelt utterly delicious.
Kakashi put his hands on your upper arms and gently tugged you away from him. His face was bright red. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears. You laughed at him but decided to show mercy and not tease him over his obvious bashfulness. You instead turned your attention to his dogs.
They were all sitting together to your right, tails wagging furiously. You could tell that if they had been any less well trained, they’d have been jumping all over you.
You opened your bag and pulled out a little something that you’d brought to make sure they liked you. When the dogs caught sight of the McDonald’s bag, their excitement obviously got too much to contain, because they all ran over to your feet, a couple jumping up at you, a couple barking, all looking eager to get their hands on the carroty goodness.
Kakashi, although you could tell he was amused, stepped in to corral his little gremlins. God, he was such a dog dad.
You had received copious wet kisses that day, mostly from the dogs, but also from a sappy Kakashi who had seemed utterly thrilled that you and his dogs got along.
You had had to make and study flash cards to remember all his dogs’ names, but Kakashi’s genuine smile as he watched you interact with them made it all worth it.
You had also met Charlie, Kakashi’s personal chef that evening.
The presence of his personal chef didn’t surprise you. What surprised you was when said chef made dinner for the dogs and then immediately left, leaving Kakashi to cook for you and him. It was exactly that abrupt, and you had laughed until you cried. Of course, he hired a personal chef just for his dogs. He spoilt them rotten.
You were sceptical as to how much skill he would have in the kitchen, but he produced a delicious meal with little trouble. It made you warm that Kakashi was so enthusiastic about cooking dinner you.
Cooking wasn’t the only way he was spoiling you though; he seemed incredibly willing to flash his cash for you, much to your delight.
“Have you considered a top hat?” you asked, picking up the worst top hat you’d ever seen and holding it up as a suggestion. Kakashi gave you a flat look. “What? If this Autumn Company Party thing is so important, you need to make an impression, and this hat would certainly make an impression!”
“I don’t want to make the kind of impression that has my board of directors attempting to oust me from the company.” He took the hat and placed it back on the rack.
“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “If you didn’t want my fashion advice, why did you even bring me along to pick your outfit? I could have just waited in the car.”
The attendant that was serving you walked back into the room with a selection of ties based on Kakashi’s preferences. He laid them out on the stool for him to peruse. He had already witnessed a great deal of your banter, but if he was surprised by it, then he was too professional to let that show.
“You’re my personal assistant.”
You flicked the tie he was currently wearing up into his face. “That doesn’t mean I need to watch you pick out ties, asshole.”
Kakashi flicked you on the forehead in turn, rolling his eyes as he always did. “No, I mean that you’ll have to attend the party with me, and I figured you would need a new outfit. As you said, it’s important to make an impression, especially as this will be your debut of sorts.”
You snorted, pulling at one of the price tags of a nearby shirt. “Not in here, thanks. Just reading these numbers is making my bank account cry, I can’t imagine what buying them would do to it.”
Kakashi watched you for a moment, before he stuck his hand into his pocket. Out came his wallet.
‘James? Is what I think is happening, actually happening?’
‘I believe you are about to reach a major milestone in your goal to become a ‘gold digger’, human. My soul is warmed by your success, may it be prosperous and eternal.’
‘Thanks, James, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’
Just as you predicted, Kakashi slipped his card out from his wallet and handed it to you. “Buy whatever you need, I can’t have my assistant looking shabby now, can I?”
You could imagine this scene in other stories, stories where you weren’t the lead. The MC would decline, either out of bashfulness or a sense of pride. Kakashi would probably then insist, and maybe MC would feel obliged to agree, but they would slip outside and purchase the outfit from a cheaper shop down the road to make a point. And then Kakashi would swoon because MC is ‘not like other alphas’.
You were the lead in this story though, so you took the card immediately, grinning from ear to ear.
“Fuck yes,” you said under your breath. Kakashi snorted, but he looked amused, not offended, by the way you were treating his money. “I’m going to dress up like royalty.”
You scurried off into your preferred section of the shop, Kakashi’s card clutched tightly in your grasp. You eagerly rifled through the racks. At several moments, you got the feeling that you were being watched, but whenever you looked back, Kakashi was fully focused on shopping. Maybe you were imagining it?
The Autumn Company Party had been coming up a lot. It was clearly the climax of the plot, but unlike Itachi’s story, you weren’t really sure what the plot was. James had no idea what would be happening at the party either, just that something would happen, and whatever that something was, it was heavily influenced by your actions. You had originally been apprehensive, but you figured that for a porn story, it couldn’t be anything too bad, so you focused on your excitement about attending such a fancy work party. You’d bet the hors d’oeuvres were going to change your life.
(You were confident because you had been the one in charge of choosing the catering company and the menu. Your job was pretty fun at times, even if your true career calling was independently wealthy.)
In between the planning for the party, your physical relationship with Kakashi had also developed over the last fortnight.
“You’re needy tonight,” you teased, curling your fingers just right. Kakashi shivered.
“On the contrary, you need to shut up.”
You tutted, “That wasn’t your best work.”
“Forgive me; I’m a little preoccupied.” You took that as an invitation to press at his prostate as hard as you could. Kakashi face screwed up in pleasure, and he made no more comments.
“Wow, who knew that you had an off switch this whole time? If I’d had known this little bundle of nerves had such an effect, my interview would have gone very differently.”
“The more time I spend with you, the less I’m surprised that you were single when we met.”
“Asshole.”
That had been during his first visit to your flat. You had the strange impression that he felt more comfortable in your home than his own, for some reason. Regardless, that night was the first time you’d gone all the way.
“Are you ready?” you asked, kissing on his collar bones to distract yourself from his tight warmth, and how much you really wanted to move.
“I was ready ten minutes ago. I’m not going to break the second you put any pressure on me, or in me, as it were.” Kakashi purposely clenched around you causing you to hiss. “Get on with it.”
You pulled away and narrowed your eyes at him. He only raised an eyebrow in response. Fine, if he wanted it rough, you’d give it to him rough.
…
“Fuck, I’m tired,” you said, flopping back onto the bed, exhausted. Kakashi looked much the same, panting hard from exertion.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he replied.
“…”
“…”
“Second round in the shower?”
“Obviously.”
Now that had been a fun night. Your activities didn’t stay exclusively in the bedroom though. You had quickly found that not only did Kakashi like it when you took control in social situations, like ordering for him at restaurants, he also liked it when you lightly teased him in public.
Nothing too extreme, of course, as there was a chance that such a thing would literally end up in the news if you were caught, but you had both made a game of seeing how many dirty messages you could hide in the other’s paperwork. You were winning, although the scores were close.
You were so glad that Kakashi’s morning meeting was being held in one of the rooms made entirely of glass. It meant that, although you weren’t in the meeting, you still had a prime view to Kakashi’s reaction when he inevitably found the note you had hidden in his folder.
You watched as Kakashi continued his speech to the board of directors, reaching for his folder to check something.
Oh, there, he was opening his folder!
The cover flipped open and Kakashi froze for only a moment, before he continued like nothing had happened.
You were impressed by his ability to keep his cool, you had to admit, but you still noticed the way his hand shook ever so slightly, as he snuck the note out of the folder and into his pocket without anyone noticing.
When the meeting finished, Kakashi walked straight back over to you, dropping the note in question on your desk.
“You’re incorrigible.” There was the slightest pink to his cheeks.
“So, you don’t want a rimjob?”
Kakashi gave you one of his signature flat looks, although the pink tinge ruined it somewhat, and wordlessly walked into his office, leaving you fruitlessly supressing your cackles.
To sum it up, you really liked him, and it was clear that he really liked you. You had seen his home, met his dogs, eaten his food, and seen flashes of the complexity bubbling just below Kakashi’s purposefully distant exterior.
In a moment of surprising seriousness, Gai had vigorously shaken your hand yesterday and told you that he’d never seen Kakashi as light and happy as he’d been these last few weeks. It was nice to hear.
You still didn’t like the fact that you had to work, but again, the job could have been a lot worse, and you were playing the long game. Technically, you were working right now, but Kakashi had asked you to accompany him on a mini road trip into the surrounding countryside. The days where Kakashi took you with him out of the office were your favourite, but today something was off. You had tired to write off Kakashi’s out of character behaviour as him just having an off day, but there was something about it that was really putting you on edge.
It was like he was trying to distract himself with the paperwork. You wondered if this meant his backstory reveal was coming up. Itachi had started behaving strangely when his worries about you rejecting him for his past were about to make themselves known. Maybe Kakashi’s backstory had something to do with where you were going.
Apparently, you were going to visit a house. Kakashi had mentioned that one of his properties (one of them, pfft, rich kid) required some maintenance. According to him, the roof had been damaged in a storm a few weeks earlier, and he needed to prepare the house for the builders to carry out repairs. Kakashi had described your tasks as mainly including clearing space for scaffolding, cleaning and packing away the breakables in the main rooms, and plugging in the fridge so the builders could store their lunches and have milk for beverages.
They didn’t seem like the kind of tasks that would cause a significant amount of stress. If he was doing things like packing away valuables and plugging in the fridge, it was probably a place he lived, rather than a rental or something. Maybe it was a summer home? You supposed that Kakashi was a very private person, so maybe he was on edge at the thought of having a load of strangers in his house without supervision.
Hmm, that sounded too simple for this universe though. You were due a backstory exposition scene, and maybe you spent too much time reading erotica, but this felt like it had ‘tragic backstory incoming’ written all over it.
“So, this place we’re going… is it a summer home? Oh! Or a summer estate? Is it a mansion? Does it have a pool, and can I use it?”
Kakashi didn’t take the obvious banter bait, he just kept his head down and continued signing documents, providing a short, factual answer.
“It’s none of those things, nor does it have a pool.”
“Aww.” You tried to play up your sadness with a pout. “I was excited.”
“Doesn’t your complex have a swimming pool?”
“I mean, yeah, technically, but this would be a private swimming pool, that’s way better.”
Kakashi chuckled, but his heart didn’t seem in it. You put a hand on his knee and squeezed. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face melted into something softer. He took the hand in his and gave it a squeeze in return.
“If it makes you feel better, the property does have a habitat for racing pigeons.”
“Wha—Really?!”
“No.”
“…”
“…”
“I hate you so much.”
…
As the car turned off the main road, you pressed your face back against the window to ooh and ahh at the sights. The road was less maintained and significantly bumpier, but you didn’t let the risk of a concussion stop you from your sightseeing.
There were bushes and flowers and pretty trees lining each edge of the road, and one more turn had you going down what looked like a private road, or dare you say it, a driveway. At this point, you were kind of expecting a mansion, no matter what Kakashi said. What other homes had long private roads? Unless it was some kind of farmhouse? You couldn’t imagine Kakashi owning a farm, but his name did mean scarecrow, so perhaps he’d purchased it as a joke? Did rich people buy property for jokes?
As the car slowly turned one last time, the house in question crept into view. It was neither a farmhouse nor a summer estate. No, it was a traditional, single story, Japanese minka house, set amongst a beautiful and equally traditional garden, framed by beautiful trees, all of which were orange and red and practically screamed Autumn.
The house was large, but not excessively so. At a glance, you would assume it had three to four bedrooms. The roof was sloped and covered in worn shingles, stretching out to shelter the sprawling engawa. Wood and stone materials were used heavily in the walls and decorations, and lamps hung from both sides of the front door. It was beautiful.
You were out of the car the second it stopped.
Now that you were walking up to it, you could see the stone pathways, the koi pond, the sliding glass door at the side, and the shutters on the windows. It was a minka house, but it had clearly been modernised.
You heard the sound of two car doors opening and closing and figured that Kakashi and his chauffeur had joined you in front of the house.
“This is completely gorgeous! I’ve never seen a modernised minka house before. If it’s not a summer home, what is it for?” There was no response, so you turned, breaking eye contact with the beautiful house to search for him. “Kakashi?”
He was standing a few paces behind you, just staring at the house in silence.
“Kakashi—”
“Let’s get everything out of the car,” he mumbled, cutting you off and turning away from the house.
“Kakashi—”
“There isn’t that much; we could probably carry it all in in one trip.”
His tone made it clear that he wasn’t interested in answering your question. You trusted that the narrative would push you into finding out what was wrong when the time was right, so for now, you broke the trance the house had on you, and helped to unpack the boot.
The supplies in the boot took the form of cleaning products, empty boxes, and a few bags of groceries and kitchen supplies. Between the three of you, it was light work, and soon everything was resting on the engawa, ready to be moved inside.
Having other duties to attend to, the chauffeur took his leave once everything was out of the car, leaving you and Kakashi standing in front of the house, side by side. You awkwardly waited for him to unlock the door, but he didn’t seem interested in moving.
You cleared your throat, “Um, should we go in?”
Kakashi jolted like a doll suddenly coming to life and fished the key out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and the door swung open, creaking all the while.
“WD-40 who? This house doesn’t know her.”
He sighed, “Just go inside.”
“Alright, spoil sport.”
Kakashi held open the door and you went inside, slipping off your shoes in the entrance.
Inside, the house was… confusing.
Your eyes darted left and right, trying to understand what you were looking at. It was traditional but modernised with new appliances, not strange considering the outside of the house, but it looked distinctly like it had been modernised at least two decades ago. It was immaculately tidy, not single object out of place, and yet the entire thing was covered in a thick layer of dust. To make things more confusing, it looked lived it, personal, with clutter and photos, but it had an overwhelming air of abandonment.
As you said, it was confusing. Vibe check thoroughly failed.
“It’s… nice?” you said, hoping you could force your voice into something sincere. “Traditional modern vintage? Troderage? Vinadern? Whatever it is, it’s interesting, and I—”
Kakashi cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. He looked amused and exasperated all at the same time. You went cross eyed trying to look at the offending finger, which only seemed to amuse him more.
“You don’t have to find something nice to say, I’m aware that it’s seen better days.”
You went to bite his finger, so he tugged it away, leaving you to snap unsatisfyingly at empty air “Hey, I’m not lying! I like it, it has potential! And potential is the more important thing for a property in my opinion. Like, sure, you could buy one of those awful modern renovated homes with no personality, but if I wanted to live in a white monastery, I’d just—”
Kakashi took one of the masks he’d brought and pressed it over your mouth and then stretched the elastic over your ears to keep it in place, effectively cutting you off once again.
“You know I can still talk through these, right?” you asked, voice slightly muffled, but still clearly understandable. He passed you a dusting cloth and a bottle of unidentified cleaning spray.
“Just… clean. I’ll carry the boxes through and start packing, okay?”
“You’re not the boss of— Oh.” That’s right, he was literally our boss. Good job this was a porn world, because you had a feeling that real world HR wouldn’t approve.
You were rewarded with another one of his eyes smiles as he snapped his own mask into place. “Chop chop, dear assistant of mine.”
Ugh, fine, whatever. Kakashi went back out to the engawa, and you decided to start by dusting the mantel place. If you dusted the photos and ornaments first, which practically covered the mantel place, Kakashi could get started with packing them up.
You started at the left end and grabbed the first picture. Confusingly, it had been laying face down. You hesitated, wondering if it was something Kakashi explicitly didn’t want you to see. You felt drawn to it though. Was that just you being nosy, or was this some kind of hint from your porn logic overlords? Was it moral for you to look when—Too late you already grabbed it and flipped it over.
Philosophising took too long.
It was a photo of two people, obviously a father and son, sitting in the garden you’d just walked through. The sun was shining, and both people were covered in mud, clearly having just finished some gardening. It was a sweet picture, but more importantly you recognised the two people from your google searches.
It was a photo of a young Kakashi and his father. This was his—
A hand tugged the photo out of your hand. Kakashi.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think—”
“It’s fine.” His voice was short, but at least he didn’t sound angry.
“This was your family home, wasn’t it?” you asked softly.
Kakashi sighed, turning away from you to put the photo in one of the boxes. “In a way. Although I haven’t lived here since I was four.”
You put a comforting hand on his shoulder, wondering if this was where you were going to find out about Kakashi’s angst. The death of his father had definitely made an impact on him, but you had a suspicion that there was something more to his angst than that.
Kakashi looked as tightly coiled as a spring, though. You decided to wait until he was more relaxed before you tried coaxing his backstory out of him. Some cleaning would get his mind off things.
“Let’s start with the dusting!” you said, artificially injecting some chipperness into the conversation. You saw Kakashi’s shoulders lift as you stopped prying into his backstory. “You should be careful though.” Hook.
Kakashi looked confused. “What? Why?” Line.
“Because we won’t be able to tell if it gets in your hair, old man.” And Sinker.
Kakashi scowled and threw a dusting cloth at your face.
…
Kakashi warmed up again as you worked. It seemed to help him, having a job to focus on, and of course, you were doing your best to keep his spirits high as well.
And honestly, all the cleaning and mood management was well worth it to see his baby pictures! He didn’t have parents to show you, so you were taking it into your own hands. You avoided bringing attention to any that also contained his father, but there was still plenty to work with.
You squealed, pulling a photo of a tiny, grumpy Kakashi holding a freshly caught fish off the wall to dust. “Look how cute you were! You know how to fish? I’ll be honest, I didn’t imagine that as one of your skills.”
“Will you stop—” Kakashi said, plucking the picture from your hands and hanging back on the wall. “Do you have to put effort into being so nosy, or is it a natural born talent?”
“Completely natural.” You grinned and grabbed the photo back, giving it a quick dust and then putting it in the box of valuables, cooing all the while.
Kakashi rolled his eyes, but you could see the pink dusting his ears.
“Hey, here’s a question.”
“Can’t you just dust?”
“Why was the outside of the house so immaculate, when the inside looks like it hasn’t been touched in a decade?” you asked, taping up one box and grabbing another empty one.
“I hire a groundskeeper for the outside, but I personally clean the inside.”
Your face spoke for itself as you looked around the room, still half-covered in dust. Kakashi sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “I haven’t done it for a couple of years, I admit.”
You laughed, grabbing the next photo to dust. It was another one of just Kakashi, although this time he was sitting behind a dog-shaped birthday cake, scowling at the camera.
“Did you ever smile?” you asked, holding up the photo. “Even now you don’t seem much better at it, always stone faced or rolling your eyes, do I have to teach you?”
You slid the photo under your arm so that your hands were free to push up Kakashi’s cheeks into a faux smile. You managed to hold his cheeks in a forced smile for a second, before Kakashi smacked your hands away, scowling. You sent him a cheeky grin, but he only yanked the photo out from under your arm and bent down to pack it away in a box.
What you did next, could hardly be held against you. You mean, it was right there, in all its glory: Kakashi’s toned but ample butt.
You pinched it.
Kakashi jumped before immediately standing and whirling around to face you. Your grin froze on your face as you noticed something intense flashing in his eyes, the kind of intense that promised revenge.
Oh, fuck.
You broke into a desperate run away from Kakashi, but he immediately gave chase. You ran around the coffee table and into the kitchen, thunderous footsteps sounding behind you. Your heart pounded and some hysterical giggles escaped as you ran through the second door in the kitchen, grateful that it wasn’t a dead end.
“Stop running and accept your fate!” Kakashi called from somewhere behind you.
“You’ll never take me alive!”
You ended up back in the living room, but you managed to catch Kakashi in a stalemate, with you standing behind the couch, and him standing in front of it. Every time he darted around one way, you went the other. You both stared at each other, watching for even the slightest hint of movement.
“If you give up now, I promise the punishment won’t be so bad,” Kakashi said with an unfairly attractive lilt.
“If you think I’m going to give in, then you’re as senile as the grey hair suggests, old man.” To further make your point, you gave him the middle finger. You weren’t really sure how this was going to end, because he would inevitably catch you, even if only because you arrived in his car, but you weren’t a quitter and you certainly didn’t surrender!
Kakashi chuckled, and then in a second, his whole body shot forward and the man leapt over the sofa towards you. You shrieked and continued running. Adrenaline pumping, you automatically ran towards the front door.
Unfortunately, all it took was one moment of weakness. There, in the doorway, you suddenly realised that you weren’t wearing shoes. You hesitated for only a moment, but that was all it took for Kakashi to catch up with you.
“Hidden technique: One Thousand Years of Death!”
There, in the doorway of Kakashi’s childhood home, you let out an ungodly screech as Kakashi’s fingers jabbed you in a place that you really didn’t want to be jabbed.
Your back arched and your butt cheeks clenched.
“You bastard!” you screamed, turning around to smack Kakashi’s chest. He was dying laughing, happily taking your smacks. “That wasn’t funny!”
“It was very funny,” Kakashi disagreed, moving backwards to dodge your smacks. “Although maybe not for the local wildlife; I think they might be traumatised after that screech.”
You huffed, gingerly rubbing your backside as you followed him back into the living room. “You know, you are completely and utterly— Woah!”
Midsentence, because this world was ridiculous, you slipped on a section of wet floor that you were 100% sure you had already dried. There was a split second of relief where Kakashi managed to catch you, before he also slipped on the floor, and both of you went crashing to the ground.
Kakashi hit the ground first, laying on his back, and you quickly followed, landing on top of him. Kakashi let out an oof noise as you knocked the air from his lungs.
It was the exact same thing as had happened with Itachi, except you were the one on top this time. Porn logic was just running out of ideas you thought, bitter at having been tripped on a wet floor that you had already dried.
‘Careful human,’ James interjected. ‘You do not wish you issue a challenge to porn logic, because in my experience, it does not take kindly to such things.’
‘Wait, really? What happens if I issue porn logic a challenge?’
‘The last alpha who did that… well, let’s just say that I doubt their penis was ever the same again.’
You loved porn logic. Porn logic had zero faults and you wanted to kiss it on the mouth, marry it even. It was just perfect in every way.
‘Good save, human.’
‘Thanks, James.’
“Are you going to get off me or are you just going to continue staring into space?” Kakashi’s voice jolted you from your conversation with James and you bashfully cleared your throat.
“Right, yes, of course, but I am going to use your tits as leverage to stand, just saying.”
Kakashi rolled his eyes, which seemed to be his go to response when he was in your presence but didn’t protest your grabbing at his chest.
You put your hands down and gave his chest a little squeeze, ooh, nice and squishy. You were about to push off him and into a standing position, when you felt something that wasn’t so nice and squishy.
In the inside pocket of his jacket was something hard, almost like a small book. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been notable at all if Kakashi hadn’t reacted. You would have assumed it to be some kind of paperwork or light reading, but Kakashi froze, and you’d seen more innocent expressions on kids caught with their hands in cookie jars.
“What’s that?”
“Paperwork.” Kakashi answered far too quickly for you to believe him for even a second.
“Well, if it’s only paperwork, then you won’t mind me having a look.” You grabbed the book out of his pocket, dodging his attempts to stop you. Your weight on top of him was keeping him pinned nicely, and moments later you had the book held triumphantly above your head.
“Now, let’s see,” you hummed, giving the book a look. It was a small yellow book, with large writing ‘Icha Icha’ over the top. The 18+ logo on the front was a damning piece of evidence. This was a porn book. How hilariously ironic.
“I can explain—”
“Kakashi!” you said, in a faux scandalised voice.
“I read it for the story!”
You hummed, considering his story, like a judge. Kakashi stared up at you, trying his best to be the picture of pure innocence, pleading with you to end the interrogation.
Obviously, you had no choice but to push things further.
“Well, I can understand that!” you said, chipper as ever.
Kakashi blinked, “You can? I mean, you can. Great, so if you could just give it back—"
“If the story is as good as you say it is, then I would love to give it a look!” Any hope that had started to bloom on Kakashi’s face died as soon as he registered your words. He tried to sit up, presumably to wrestle the book from you, but you used a knee to hold his chest to the ground. “Now, now, you wouldn’t be so cruel as to deprive me from such a great story, would you? If it’s good enough for you to be carrying around at work, it must be something special.”
Kakashi made another swipe for the book, but you simply held it above his reach. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
“No, you don’t! Now, let’s see…” You flicked to a random page. “This page looks like a good place to start.” You cleared your throat. When it became obvious that you were about to do a dramatic reading, Kakashi groaned.
“You’re ridiculous, completely ridiculous. I should sue you for assault and theft.”
You ignored him, scanning the page. A feral grin blossomed on your face; it was perfect.
“Elisabeth grinned down at Makoto, hunger and lust warring for dominance in her eyes, reflecting the real life battle that Makoto had just lost. Makoto wondered what it would be like to have her mouth on his—” you gasped, clutching imaginary pearls. “Oh my, Kakashi, what are you reading?”
“I’m reporting you to HR.”
“Oh? And this” -you shifted your hips against his, watching as Kakashi hissed at the pressure on his rapidly rising cock- “is going to end up in the report too, I presume?”
Kakashi had no comment to make, but his rosy cheeks spoke loud and clear. You took that as an invitation to carry on reading. You skipped a few paragraphs to get to the really juicy bits.
“Elisabeth wrapped her hands around Makoto’s neck in a gentle mockery of a collar. Makoto bit his lip, overwhelmed by the imagery. He wanted her to own him, mind, body, and soul. But first, he needed his punishment. A punishment? How exciting! Do you remember what punishment Elisabeth is going to give to Makoto, Kakashi?” You rolled your hips again, delighting in the pleasured grunt you forced from him. Kakashi shook his head as a negative to your question, something you didn’t believe for one moment; the book was clearly well loved and had been read many times before.
You leant down over his pink face and gave him a chaste kiss. You saw his arms move and for a moment you assumed that he was going for the book, but he merely settled his arms on your hips before pushing his crotch up into yours. You hummed and kissed him again. He was such a brat.
“Makoto was forced to kneel at her feet. It was with eagerness that he anticipated the crack of her whips against his skin. He had been bad, he knew that, so he accepted his punishment with grace and also a raging boner. Ah, I see what you’re into. And just when I didn’t think you could be more cliché, the CEO is into BDSM.”
“And how many porn books are you reading to know that it’s cliché?”
“Change the subject all you want; you were the one caught with your proverbial trousers down.” Kakashi rolled his eyes. He seemed to have recovered from the minor embarrassment, because the light dusting of pink didn’t get any worse. You guessed it took more than that to embarrass someone who apparently caried porn around in their pocket of their work clothes. “Okay, okay, one more and then we can keep cleaning.”
You flipped through the book, trying for find the right scene to end it on. Hmm… Maybe you should let porn logic choose? It would probably know exactly what page to pick. You closed your eyes.
‘Porn logic, choose the page that will get the best reaction from Kakashi please!’
You flicked through the pages until you felt the overwhelming urge to stop, at which point you clamped your thumb down. You had landed on page 154.
To your immediate confusion, it didn’t look like it had any porn on it at all. It looked like it was just a sappy conversation between Elizabeth and Makoto. You debated picking another one, but after James’ warning about pissing off the porn logic, you decided to just trust it.
“Elisabeth, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a while, something important,” you read out loud. Kakashi let out a strangled noise as he realised what page you were on. His lightly pink face quickly deepened into an impressive red. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.
“Fine, you win, can I have my book back now because—”
“What is it, Makoto? What could be so important that you called me here at this time?”
Kakashi whined, pressing his hands to his face. You had never seen him act like this before. You watched, fascinated, as you continued to read.
“Elisabeth… With all my heart, deeply and truly, I love you.”
Those final words were enough for Kakashi, because he easily broke out of your hold, knocking you off of him and onto the living room floor. Now free, he turned over onto his front and buried his face into his arms. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.
It was as unexpected as it was adorable. You hoped this wonderful omega never stopped surprising you in the best way.
“Aww, Kakashi, I’m sorry,” you cooed, rubbing his back. “It’s okay to be a sap at heart, I won’t tell anyone! I want to keep this cute side of you to myself.”
Kakashi took a shaky breath before pushing himself into a sitting position. He was still bright red. “You are…”
“Are…?”
Kakashi gave you one of his eye smiles, reached out with a hand, and firmly flicked you on the forehead. “Annoying.”
It was such a weak attempt to restart the banter on a equal standing that you couldn’t hold your laughter in.
“You’re so pathetic,” you laughed, clutching at your stomach. “I love it.”
“So are you,” Kakashi said, pouting.
“I know, that’s why we’re perfect together!”
Slowly, Kakashi started to laugh too, joining your hysteria on the living room floor of his childhood home. You were leaning on each other, just completely lost in a weird joke that only you two could understand.
What a team you made. You really liked Kakashi. Honestly, you could say that you loved him at this point. He was just so fun to be around, fun to tease, fun to bite, everything. Being around him made you feel alive, and having money for everything you could ever need was only adding to how relaxed you had been feeling the whole time in this dimension.
You could see a very happy life here. You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that you saw an equally happy life with Itachi. Your laughter petered out as you considered the impossible choice you were going to have to make.
The knowledge that no other person would ever enter this universe if you didn’t stay only made you feel guiltier. Was it worse to leave Kakashi alone forever, but with his money and friends, or leave Itachi with the possibility of another great love, but an equal possibility of being forced to settle with some awful person who just happened to die early and choose him?
You sighed, trying to put such heavy thoughts out of your mind for now.
Kakashi was watching you, a soft look on his face. His mask had slipped off at some point during the chase, so you could see his face unhindered. He was just watching you in silence.
You reached out a hand to cup his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I am,” he said, still staring at you like you were the centre of his world. “It’s just… it’s been a long time since there was laughter in this house.”
“I bet.” You smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His backstory was so sad that whenever you thought about it for too long, it hurt your heart. It had been easier to read at first, when he had just been some nebulous, kind of dickish, person on a Wikipedia page, but now he was Kakashi, your Kakashi… It hurt to imagine him suffering.
His father had committed suicide when he was only four, and then Kakashi had been raised by custodians, forced into business from a ridiculously early age, and then been betrayed by those who were supposed to look after him as soon as he came of age.
“Kakashi? Can I ask you a question?”
“You? Of course. Always.”
“Do you…” You struggled for a moment, thinking about how best to phrase the question. “Do you enjoy your work? Do you like business? Because from what I understand, you didn’t really get much of a choice.”
Kakashi seemed baffled that you would ask such a question. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“I… like my job,” he said, entirely unconvincingly.
“What do you like about it?”
He didn’t answer. That didn’t surprise you.
“Did you ever get a chance to follow your own dreams?”
Kakashi blinked at you, looking lost. He swallowed heavily. You rubbed your thumb on his cheek to try and comfort him. You understood that for someone who had never been given a choice, your question might have been quite jarring.
“What are your dreams, Kakashi?”
He stared at you and shook his head, still silent.
“You don’t know?” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’s never too late to make dreams, Kakashi, remember that.”
“If you say so,” he said, trying and failing to keep a light-hearted tone. “We need to keep cleaning, you know, we’re burning daylight.”
You allowed the heavy-handed topic change to slid by without acknowledgment. “You’re right, come on, let’s get up. You’re buying me dinner tonight, by the way, as thanks for all this cleaning.”
He rolled his eyes, standing. “Fine, but I’m picking the restaurant, and I want it delivered.”
“Sounds good to me!”
…
You yawned, gratefully climbing into bed. This MC had invested in expensive sheets, and honestly you loved them for it. There was no better way to end a tiring workday than climbing into bed.
You couldn’t wait to either reject society and run off into the woods with Itachi or have a full-time profession as Kakashi’s eccentric trophy spouse. Work sucked.
You closed your eyes, and just as you were starting to drift off, your phone started to ring. Ugh.
You forced yourself awake. Your fake family and friends hadn’t even been invented yet, and you were already being bothered. You squinted at the caller ID. Oh, it was Kakashi. That was weird; he wasn’t a phone call person.
You answered the phone. “Hello? Kakashi? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry for calling you.” His voice sounded strange. It was softer than usual, like his head was off in the clouds.
“That’s okay.” You waited for an explanation of his call, but none came. “Did you need something?”
“Yes, I… I was thinking about the Autumn Company Party and I…”
“Yes?”
“Do you think…” He stopped talking again. Something was off.
“Kakashi, you’re freaking me out. Please tell me what’s wrong?”
There was a pause. “Nothing, I’m sorry, I’m fine. Goodnight.”
“Kakashi—” You couldn’t get any more words out before he hung up the phone.
You sat there in bed, staring down at your call log, confused.
What on Earth had that been about?
Next chapter
#the quest for a second life#kakashi#kakashi hatake#sub!kakashi#sub kakashi#omega kakashi#omega!kakashi#alpha x omega#a/b/o#omegaverse#alpha!reader#alpha reader#dom reader#dom!reader#gn reader#kakashi x reader
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mark finally coming back after the last race of the season just very fluffy
A/N: This is when Mark was still racing for Red Bull
You couldn't wait for him to come, honestly you missed having his snores and hairy body next to yours when you slept. You've gotten so used to him sleeping next to you that now that he wasn't you weren't able to get proper sleep.
The warm bodies next to you are your three dogs that roam free on the ranch, but they knew when Mark was gone that you allowed them to sleep next to you. He didn't like it when you let the dogs inside as he wanted them to protect the property. But you still left one dog, who didn't like anyone but Mark.
He was your 6-year-old great pyrenees, named Prost. You have no idea why Mark picked that name, but you just rolled with it. You could see the outline of Prost's body standing in front of your porch door. He might not like you, but he took it serious when Mark tells him to protect you and the others.
Mark was probably on a plane right now, flying back from Abu Dhabi and couldn't wait for him to get home. You just wanted him home, to spend your times outside enjoying the sun and helping around the ranch. Have the other visit and just be away from the world for a few months without the weight of being a Red Bull driver on his shoulders.
Sighing, you're unable to sleep and stand up the dogs also popping their heads up but refuse to leave the warm bed. Walking through the house you notice that Prost was following you, you smile and open the front door and step out onto your front porch. You have no idea what time it was, as you step out onto the porch and sit down on your porch swing.
You notice Prost come up to you but circles around before dropping his heavy body onto the floor lying right at your feet. You smile, knowing if he wanted your attention, he would ask for it. It was never silent in the outback as you just enjoyed the sounds of the nature. Closing your eyes, you take deep breaths until you hear the small sound of an engine and dirt crunching underneath it's weight.
You notice a jacked-up Jeep driving down the driveway. Prost jumps up and starts to growl, but you don't worry knowing exactly who the Jeep belonged too. There was only one person who drove that Jeep, you smile as the headlights hit you but quickly are turned off and soon the engine follows.
Prost starts to growl louder, even letting out a sharp bark that has you jumping. 'Easy boy," Mark's voice rings out which has Prost just turn into a low rumble and lay back down in front of you. Mark comes into view, the porch light soft on his tired face. "Hi," You whisper as Mark drops his bag and bends down, squishing Prost's face and then kissing the top of his head.
"Hey, Roo." Mark stands and moves sitting down on the rocking chair with you. "You had a great race," You whisper, running your hand over his stubbled cheek. "Sebastian won," He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder, wrapping an arm tight around you. "Yeah, he did, but who cares, racing isn't everything," You whisper.
Mark chuckles and sighs, the outback night filling the silence. "You're everything," Mark whispers after a while which makes you smile. "You're everything too,"
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#mark webber#mark webber imagine#mark webber fluff#mark webber x reader#mark webber x you#mark webber fic#mark webber x y/n
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Eddie Munson's second chance
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14
Prompt: Angst with a happy ending
Rated: G
CW: referenced child neglect/abuse
Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson
Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.
Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.
Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour.
Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood.
Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head.
Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning.
"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong.
"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-"
"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?"
"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over."
*
They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him.
Even if she tied it to one condition.
He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat.
He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi.
*
"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.
Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends.
"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel."
The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."
Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should.
Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking.
"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?"
Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday.
"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph."
He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin.
"Don't worry, I won't tell."
This gets him a huffed laugh.
"He'd love this place, it's really cool."
When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard.
"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself."
A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.
Well, shit.
"Listen, your highness …"
"Steve is fine."
"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick."
A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly."
"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?"
"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged."
Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh.
"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets."
Eddie frowns.
"Dustin as in the kid or …"
"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon."
Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way."
He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.
"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow."
*
When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains.
"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?"
"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number."
Part 3
All my holiday drabbles
#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#steddie holiday drabbles#hype's holiday drabbles
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Bungou Stray Dogs Men with a S/o that has an Animal Ability:
This was just something I whipped up! I also edited my layout! lmk what u think! Still some add-ons and fixes I need to do but I'm really liking it so far! Without further ado, enjoy :) -spence
(I may make a second part to this if it does well.)
Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Kunikida, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Atsushi
Warnings: Slight nsfw halfway through Kunikida's part, but for the most part it's fluff!
Reader is non-gender specific!
Dazai:
S/o with a dog ability!
We all know he hates dogs
So after finding out about your ability, long after the relationship had begun, he was quite thrown off.
I’d like to think he doesn’t show any fear towards your ability, although he’s secretly terrified.
Rants to kunikida, even asks for advice on the situation.
( Has never seen said ability in person, just knows from stories you’ve told him. )
You try convincing him that your ability isn’t that scary, that all that happens is you turn into an adorable puppy! ( Your ability isn’t well created for combat. )
Couldn’t help but stare in awe as a little fluffy animal appears in front of him.
Screams like a little girl when you try to approach him.
Has his arms held out in front of him, eyes squeezed shut as you nudge up and down his bandaged arms.
He eventually gets warmed up to the little fur-ball constantly around him now!
Shows off to the ADA his “major” improvement towards your ability as he picks up the newly turned dog.
Everyone stared at him with a “seriously?” look across their faces.
Still startled when coming home to find a little puppy laying on his bed!
He secretly got over his “fear” of dogs a little while ago, although claims he’s still frightened to tease you.
He’s like a puppy, he’s always all over you, littering you with kisses.
Chuuya:
S/o with a Red Panda Ability!
He ADORES your ability.
Walking into the PM to see a Red Panda wandering around one Saturday afternoon was not what he expected, although he wasn’t too bothered with it.
Thought it was some pet Mori bought to please Elise.
Soon finds out it’s not some pet, but the new recruit.
The two of you instantly became close after Dazai left the PM, soon developing into something more.
You tend to have the mannerism of a Red Panda, he’s always sure to cater to any needs!
Makes sure to find the best, high quality, expensive bamboo he can to satisfy said mannerisms and tendencies.
He’s a big whiny baby who refuses to fall asleep (some nights) with you unless you are in panda form.
Enjoys the warmth, and softness of your fur!
Finds you to be the cutest thing he’s ever witnessed, I think he’d honestly prefer you to stay as the red fluff ball forever.
Kunikida:
S/o with a Fennec Fox Ability!
He’s honestly not bothered by it much, see’s it as any other ability.
Can often be easily annoyed by how playful you are.
You’re very talkative and active, often tiring him out while he’s trying to focus on work.
He also is very tentative to your needs.
Understands your ability to easily be scared, always is able to calm any anxious jitters!
Just like fennec foxes, you hate being held, touched, any of the sorts, he knows better to push those buttons, no matter how badly he wants to cuddle after a long day at the agency!
( You do often allow him to hold you upon seeing how exhausted he is! )
Nsfw (ish) Below !
January-February is mating season for Fennec Foxes, Kunikida has the dates marked in his calendar!
Your sex drive goes up incredibly.
Ensure to take a little bit of time off to help with your needs.
100% willing to partake in anything to help you feel relieved!
Will go round-after-round for you <3
Secretly enjoys Fennec Fox mating season, stress relief for both of you!
Ranpo:
S/o with a lamb ability!
ADORES how fluffy and cute you are.
I imagine the ability to cause disorientation and confusion on basic topics.
He’s very understanding and talks through everything with you!
Many lamb mannerisms and tendencies, often ask questions on why he doesn’t eat greens like you!
Tries to feed you sweets 24/7.
Gets scolded by Kunikida because your digestive system can’t handle such foods.
Tries to encourage your interactions with others as the result of knowing how shy you tend to be.
Immediately sticks up for you against Dazai’s teasing.
JEALOUS!
Someone tries to pat your head? Expect him to plan their death.
Someone tries to make flirty remarks? He’s throwing himself at you.
So protective of your innocence :(
He’s genuinely a really sweet s/o, always thinking of his partner and making sure they are okay. <3
Akutagawa:
S/o with a Sea Otter Ability!
Shocked with how much energy you have, Sea Otters have a ton of energy, didn’t expect for it to rub off on your actual personality!
VERY social!
It’s a, you talk, he listens, relationship.
People often question your relationship as the two of you are total opposites.
I feel like he hates water, idk why he just does.
So when he found out about your love for water he internally scolds himself.
You two take baths together!
(Enjoys when you wash his hair.)
He struggles to express his emotions 99.9% of the time, unlike you.
He gets easily flustered at your ability to compliment him with such ease!
You’re very touchy, another shock for him.
He’s not used to physical affection, so when you randomly grab his hand while out in public, he tenses up.
In private he’s super sweet and tends to any of your needs!
A relationship with him is a learning process, but he’s trying his best. <3
Atsushi:
S/o with a sloth ability.
He genuinely has a bunch of energy, so having a s/o with the ability of an animal so sleepy he doesn’t know how to handle himself at first.
Should he ask you to hangout? Should he invite you to movies with Kenji?
He soon finds out you’d love to do anything with him, just to be patient with you.
Often has to catch you when you fall asleep standing up.
Work for you takes quite a long time, he often insists he helps you!
Startles every time he comes back to his dorm to see you asleep on a support beam.
( Often has to help you down from the high places you get stuck in. )
Like sloths, some of your actions and thinking are rather slow!
He waits patiently while waiting for an answer, or anything for that matter.
He knows not to rush you, knowing you get upset thinking you aren’t trying hard enough!
Enjoys napping with you SO much.
Poor baby goes through so much, sometimes he just wants to curl up and sleep with you in his arms.
#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs fluff#bsd fluff#bsd x reader#bsd smut#atsushi x reader#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#akutagawa x reader#kunikida x reader#ranpo x reader#atsushi fluff#dazai fluff#chuuya fluff#kunikida fluff#ranpo fluff#akutagawa fluff
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let it happen (it's gonna feel so good)
↪ summary: now that you're officially kate's again, she puts you to good use.
sequel to the plum tree blossoms even in winter
a commission for someone who wishes to remain anonymous
↪ pairing: kate bishop x reader, yelena belova x reader
↪ words: 10,043
↪ trigger warnings: heavy pet play, implied kidnapping, dehumanization, blowjobs using strap-ons, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, strap-on PIV sex, manipulation, mob au, dark au, mentioned free use, mentioned primal play, use of 'daddy'
ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi
News of your return travels fast. Gossip does that in this business - all people have is the word of mouth and their reputation. The second one utters a juicy bit of conversation over a line or while on guard, a clique of power-hungry goons are picking it up and spreading it around as far as they can. Kate’s one of the most powerful mobsters in the Northern Hemisphere, visible in ways leaders hadn’t been in the past. Women, certainly not pretty ones, are ever as influential as she’s been.
So, you’re not surprised when every bodyguard, goon, runner, rat, dealer, and saleswoman who walks through the doors of her home or office looks at you with a mix of pity and smugness. The former because they knew what happened to those that betrayed the all-powerful Kate Bishop. The latter because people had been placing bets on how long you’d make it out in the real world, and you’d learned from Carol that very, very few had actually thought you’d last the year.
Honestly, the fact people were gambling on your ability to survive hits you less than you think it should. In truth, you wouldn’t have bet on yourself either. There are no underdogs here; only winners, losers, and those throwing money between them.
You try and remember the positives of being back in Kate’s care. Warm beds, always. Food that tastes good and doesn’t come from a bag. Her large bathtub with massaging jets. Her personal chef. Her caves of heated blankets you can hide in during traditional New York blizzards. Her chilled pool during hot summers. Fleeting memories of your time on the street bring your gratefulness into perspective, choosing to ignore your feelings of inadequacy as people you’ve known for years gawk at you like a newly revealed zoo animal.
It’s not as if all of them are mean – Kate would never allow them to throw things at you, touch you, or even come within a few feet of you without her express and explicit permission. But their heavy gazes, their snickering…it all makes you curl even deeper into yourself as you curl against the large dog bed. Kate has bought a new one, the deep gray contrasted by “Kate’s puppy” embroidered off to one side. Your skin occasionally brushes against it when you’re sleeping, yet another sensory reminder of your place.
Natasha is the first one to really meet with Kate after your newfound arrival, the two of them chatting over drinks and dinner. You get occasional bites of the lobster rolls (one of Natasha’s favorites), but as the meeting leeches deep into the night, you’re too tired to do anything else but keep your form.
She looks you up and down as you remain in position in the corner, your thick collar keeping your head up and face forward. It’s a strain, but one that’s familiar enough to feel…nice. You choose not to lean into the comfort, just letting it warm you from the inside out.
“The pet’s back, huh?” she asks as she shakes her head and turns back to watch Kate sign checks. Money laundering is a complicated business that requires careful precision and planning. These include cutting real, legitimate checks for fake, bloated amounts. Kate could have one of her assistants do this, but she likes to double-check the numbers – she refuses to be on the other end of such a heinous crime. “She’s prettier than I remembered.”
Kate grunts out a laugh. She’s known Natasha since the two of them were mixing coke with pre-workout…the redhead is allowed to make comments that would get other people shot. Still, Kate doesn’t need Natasha getting too big for her britches…even if those britches are currently skin-tight leggings that flatter her ass tremendously.
“Yeah,” your owner says, not bothering to look back at you. She’s still shaky in her belief you’re back for good this time, and doesn’t want to jinx it by going soft. “They just can’t seem to stay away.”
“Has it really been a year?” Nat careens her own neck to rake her eyes up your form once more. She’s not as into such discipline as Kate is - preferring a little more push and pull with the ones she decides to fuck. Even so, she can’t deny the scene in front of her is hot. Your form is perfect, with your back arrow straight and your gaze unflinching. Not to mention your nipples are hard as diamonds as they’re exposed to the chilled office air, and you shiver every so often when the air conditioning sputters to life.
Kate hmms after a minute or so, shoving the stack of checks into an envelope before pushing them aside. “And about a week. Time flies so fast, doesn’t it?”
It's Natasha’s turn to murmur a response, the both of them watching you now. It takes all your might not to look at them, keeping your eyes trained on one of Kate’s small vintage horse statues she got into collecting a few years back. Most of them were tossed when she moved into her new office after her old club was mysteriously burned to the ground after an undercover cop was found flirting with an escort Kate hires every so often. The insurance money was quite a lot, enough to build her a new office, and buy a whole lot of new decorations.
But that horse statue, somehow, remained unscathed. Depicting a wild stallion running through a river – its eyes wide, mouth open, teeth barred as fish flip uselessly around it, hair tossed from imaginary wind, and light brown coat speckled with dirt – you wonder if she had kept it for any particular reason. The statue, though dynamic, was neither large nor immediately thought-provoking. You also wondered why it was so low on the set of black matte shelves, given its old place had been higher and on an adjacent wall.
“You know what they say,” Kate leans over to graze her knuckles over your cheek. You don’t flinch, instead leaning into her touch. She rewards you with a smile. “Pets always find their way back to what they know.”
Natasha doesn’t disagree but does turn the conversation away from you. She’s not a prude, but watching you get eye-fucked by a mafia boss is not her idea of a fun evening (at least, not now. You’re always more interesting when there’s an audience). She’s certainly not against voyeurism, but in a world where she can touch…she’d always rather be at the center of the action.
“When are you meeting with the Russian?”
Kate takes a sip of her drink. The bourbon is just how she likes it, neat, and she hums in appreciation. She may be a very complicated woman, but she prefers a very simple drink. “Tonight. Said she’d come later into the evening when the club was busiest.”
If this were anyone else, Natasha would say something sarcastic, mocking the person for hiding in the sea of hot, sweaty bodies (not that it would work, Kate’s team of bodyguards are exceptionally well-trained in the art of track and trace.). But they’re not talking about just anyone, and although Natasha isn’t afraid of her…it’s just best not to invite the devil to your dinner table. “Makes sense. You know how they are.”
“Speaking of which,” Kate leans over and unhooks your collar, a sign you can lay down and rest for a little bit. “Don’t want her all worn out before our special guest arrives.”
Natasha says nothing. She’s pushed her luck enough.
“But yes, I’m intimately familiar. When they shave your head after kidnapping you and do it poorly, you tend to remember their cruelty.”
She wrinkles her nose at the memory – including the number of wigs she had to buy once she was safely returned. She was young when it happened, and her hair had long grown out since then, but her skin still remembers the itch of the growing stubble atop her head.
“Anyway, you know what I need from you,” Kate shakes her head to push the experience back deep into the recesses of her mind. “Everyone is hands-on, everyone tracks her. I don’t want a single person entering or exiting this club without us knowing any affiliations.”
It’s not as if Natasha knows the protocol – she was the one who developed it after an unfortunate incident with a Bratva a few years back – but she nods along as if it’s the first time she’s heard it. It’s easier that way.
As she goes to leave, Kate stops her – a wave of emotion cracking through her harsh façade for just a moment, before her steeled brow resets itself into its regular position. “Keep her safe. I can’t lose her again.”
The redhead just nods once, silently, before going back to the security wing with the rest of the team. Even underground, she can faintly hear the deep bass of a particularly rancid EDM remix, but mostly the only noises are the sounds of tactical gear clacking against itself. Loopholes in a military overstock program meant police departments were willing to exchange gear for cash with nonsequential serial numbers, and Natasha was always the first in line when silent auctions went live. It’s what she liked, it’s what she was good at: protecting, watching, strategizing.
She liked Kate trusted her enough to give her as much freedom as she does. That’s where she saw other mobsters fall—egos too big it couldn’t fit inside of them, imploding the whole organization from the inside out in a single generation. Natasha didn’t want to a freelancer anymore—the money was good, but stability had become more important in recent years. Maybe she’d gone soft, maybe she’d just gotten older. Either way, looking at the vast away of screens that covered every inch of the club and its perimeter…she felt truly at home.
Back in Kate’s office, you lay in your dog bed while your owner smokes a cigarette. It’s not something she does frequently—she’s a busy woman, she doesn’t have time to press pause every hour to hunch outside. Plus, she hates smoking with other people. She quit for the reason most people refuse to: the social aspect proved a worse taste in her mouth than the nicotine. Even the e-cigarette people didn’t find themselves outside, instead blowing fruit-smelling air into whatever closed space they felt entitled to.
Whatever, she sighs, putting it out in an ashtray that looks suspiciously similar to your pussy. I’ve got more important things to think about anyway.
Kate sees the suit first – a muted orange with fantastical patterns woven into the fabric, reminiscent of tapestries she remembers from a museum visit from a job farther down the East Coast. The thread glimmers in the light, a subtle way to signal her importance. Heeled boots thump against the tile as she walks, her loose, bouncy blonde hair framing her face. Unlike most of the people in the club tonight, she’s perfectly relaxed. It’s as if she’s sitting down at a family restaurant she’s been to a million times before, confidence in her step you’re not used to seeing.
“Yelena,” she says, gesturing to the seat where – just last night – Kate fingered you until you squirted all over the floor. She made you clean it, but your face still heats at the thought of her sitting there. “Come, sit. I will have my assistant pour us a drink, if you’d like.”
Assistant. Its double meaning hanging in the air like a dark, ominous cloud.
Yelena looks you up and down, eyes raking over your form as if you were a painting she was attempting to commit to memory. Her eyes seem to see not through you, but all of you – flesh and bone and sinew. You’re not sure what to make of her heavy gaze, the way she stops every few inches for just a moment before continuing. People watch you, stare at you, all the time – some shocked, some less so. She doesn’t look at you the way they do, like a starved animal seeing its keeper dangle fresh carnage outside of its cage. Rather, she’s a fully fed bear, fat and happy as it revels in its hunting ability. She knows she doesn’t need to kill, doesn’t need the destruction or chaos or unspeakable violence; but she can. She very easily can. And that’s all that matters to her, and her prey.
You’re wearing a gag – that part isn’t new (she’s not some sniveling virgin) – but what surprises Yelena ever so slightly is that it’s shaped like a dog bone. Drool pools at the side of your mouth, dripping down your chest and covering you in your own spit. All you can do, though, is look up at her with wide, empty eyes.
That is, until you remember your manners and turn your gaze downward.
“I don’t intend to stay long,” she says. It’s not meant to be sarcastic or clipping. It is what it is. Still, as she looks you over once more, a small smile curls at her lips. “Bishop-“
“Kate, please,” the brunette insists. “We have enough history to be past that formality, don’t we?”
Yelena doesn’t correct herself, continuing to stare at you. Her gaze is so intense you can feel it without looking back, small fires igniting down your spine under it. “I see you found a way to occupy your time since we last spoke.”
You wish you could see her, but all you can do is stare at the floor while the tension in the room builds in the way one expects the crash of a tsunami. Kate keeps much of her time in the Eastern Bloc a secret lost to time, but you’re not that much of an idiot to understand what silence means in these spaces.
Kate gives a tense smile, stepping to give Yelena some space. You’re not sure if the guest is asking for it, or if Kate needs it to cool down. “Sit, please. We’ve got much to discuss.”
It’s hard to track the movements of their feet through sound, but the slight scrape of the chair legs against the hardwood floor is too distinctive to ignore.
Kate tries to ease them back to the intended conversation, the experienced gears in her mind turning as fast as they can. “As I told Melina, your ports would be an incredibly valuable asset to us, and-“
“What are you offering me?” Her accent is thick, her tone straightforward. It’s one of the things Kate likes most about working with Russians – they don’t dance around the issue, they don’t fuck around, they don’t ask her to read between the lines. They say what they want to say without preamble or metaphor. Life is easier when you know what kind of target you’re shooting at. “You want access to several multibillion-dollar ports for what, the shithole Jersey has to offer?”
Kate narrows her eyes. “Underestimating your enemies seems to be a thing with your people, isn’t it?”
Yelena just laughs. It’s a dry, husky sound, and you do poorly at dampening the flutter in your chest. “Governments are very temporary where I’m from. No sense in vesting yourself in something that can’t touch you in a country so big.”
Both women pause. In the distance (or maybe right next to you), you hear waves crashing ashore—the sound of car alarms and windows breaking and people screaming. It’s here. It’s here and you are stuck in the middle of it.
“What do you want?” Kate remains outwardly calm, combing through her knowledge of the other woman to try and find some middle ground. It’s true – dock access benefits her much more than her Eastern counterpart. But she’s made people agree to a lot more for a lot less.
The woman across from her hmms, but stays silent otherwise. It’s that heavy, weighted silence; the kind that begs for another party to ask a question, lower their offer, barter for less. It’s an anvil that hangs over the both of them, swinging as they work against each other to determine where it will fall.
“Sign this deal, give me access to the ports, and if all goes well I’ll let you stay a week with my puppy over here,” Kate says plainly. Your head shoots up and your eyes widen when you realize what she’s saying, that she’s offering you up as bait for this deal. The bait part isn’t so surprising, you’ve been used as a carrot much more than you’ve been used as a stick. What causes your heart to stop is how sincere she sounds. Kate’s poker face is akin to a brick wall (maybe concrete – a brick wall has too many imperfections to be compared to your owner), but you’ve known her long enough to know how her tone wavers just a little when she’s lying. You hear nothing, no notes skipped or rests added. Just a sincere, long melody that rings throughout the room in a minor key.
It’s not as though Yelena isn’t gorgeous – with her plush lips, soft face, and eyes lined with dusty eyeshadow. She has this relaxed air about her that screams “I know exactly what I’m capable of, and you do, too.” And if your relationship with Kate is any indicator, you’re very attracted to that energy. Still, a pretty unknown is still an unknown…and you’re worried your recently lost seniority with Kate could have devastating consequences.
“I can give you money, drugs, equipment, girls,” Kate tells her. “But you said you willing to come and talk, so I’m assuming you didn’t come here just to-“
“No,” Yelena cuts her off. Fucking bold ass Russians, Kate thinks. You’d think they’d at least let you finish “I want to take the puppy out on a nice dinner, a little…what is it you Americans call it?” She smiles, laughing to herself just a little. “Dine and wine?”
Kate doesn’t correct her.
“Whatever it’s called, I want to do it to the pet. One night, including dinner. That’s what I want in exchange for giving you dock access.”
Kate clenches her jaw just a little. You don’t notice, head perking up at all the attention on you. It’s nice to not be a little toy on a shelf sometimes, everyone staring at you but no one touching. Having merely the focus of one person is a nice change, especially in a restaurant as fancy as you presume Yelena frequents. Perfectly literate in poverty, you can tell this woman and Kate fall in the same tax bracket (if they paid their taxes accurately).
They work out the details on their own, details far above what you’re able to hold in your own brain. All you care about now is what happens next, your body thrumming with excitement. If you’ve gotten the attention of this woman, you’re curious of what others would do for you.
Kate cuts up pieces of the food to feed to you from her own fork, pausing every so often to take a bite of her own. It’s awkward, sitting there just out of view but so exposed, hands bound in front of you as you’re denied the chance to feed yourself.
Sharon blinks, face blank. “Must we do this now, boss?”
Kate just smiles, watching as you eagerly swallow the spoonful of mashed potatoes. Ever since your return, she’d had her chef prepare comfort food she knew you’d missed while you were on the run – macaroni and cheese, pot pie, chicken noodle soup, decadent desserts. Watching pleasure wash over your face with every bite was worth denying you all those months. It’s something Kate’s had to learn intimately; how torturous waiting is. Still, she knows she—and you—are better off with abundance of patience.
“This is the only time I have available to speak on this matter,” she doesn’t look away from you as she speaks, her tone light while her words pointed. “We can either discuss this now, or you can wait in three days when the subject in question is back in position.”
The blonde’s jaw sets, her hands balling into fists under the lip of Kate’s massive oak desk. It’s not like she’s some prude, like that one guard who lasted twenty-four hours before begging to be moved to another post. She just knows that, less than four feet away, you’re clad in only soft panties and a large t-shirt that shows off your hardened nipples, collar jingling with each movement and your hands kept inert. If she had her way, she’d be bending you over and filling your holes with her fingers, laughing as you wept from the pleasure.
She’s not a prude, she’s just really fucking horny and wants to go home so she can watch the most intense porn she can find. Alone. With her vibrator and thruster and noise-canceling headphones and maybe an expensive bottle of Scotch. Or an edible. She doesn’t know, yet – part of the joy for her is sitting with the process and going with whatever sings to her heart the most.
So, Sharon shoves down the memory of your moans, of past promises of letting you loose in Kate’s mansion while Kate’s most trusted within the organization hunt you down like prey. She digs her nails into her palm as a distraction, but all it does is think of them digging into your hips.
“Are you really going to let her do that?”
Kate doesn’t move a muscle, and, for a split second, her blonde counterpart thinks she’s going to crack. Sharon knows what you mean to her, what your return symbolizes. When you decided to leave, Sharon remembers how angry she was, how often Kate came home with bloody knuckles or a split lip from forcing Nat to spar with her. To have you back and then immediately do something she’s never done before with you—letting someone outside their tight-knit group lay any sort of claim on you…it worries her.
But she’s Kate fucking Bishop, she has no flaws, admits no wrong, displays no weaknesses.
“We need several billion dollars, and all we have to do is let our little pet out into the world for the night,” Kate says with a shrug, looking at you with the same critical eye of an art collector. “Seems like a good deal to me.”
“Plus,” she pets the top of your head as you nuzzle into her knee. “Yelena’s not an idiot. She knows we’ll be watching and if anything happens to my prized pet that she’ll meet the end she was promised by the Red Room.”
Sharon nods just a little, trying to imagine how much a nightmare tracking you, the Russian, and the Russian’s own security will be awhile keeping Kate in the loop. She and her team can get it done (not as if they have a choice), but it'll be the definition of a logistical nightmare.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Kate coos to you. You keen under her words, pressing your face into the side of her knee and rubbing your face against the fabric of her jeans. “Daddy will always keep you safe.”
“Kate,” Sharon can’t tamper down the bile that rises in her throat as she imagines a Kate without you once more. “You’re sure?”
She ignores her, instead forcefully grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to face Sharon. You let out a small yelp, which Kate simply ignores.
"Do you want to be a good girl for me?"
You nod, desperately trying to push the fear to the back of your brain. Needless to say, it doesn’t work – you can feel it oozing down your spinal cord and settling into your stomach. You’ll be good – you’ll do anything to be good…but you worry your clammy hands and shaky breath might give you away.
Kate pulls you back so that you’re facing her, forcing a whimper from your throat.
“Then don’t leave that Russian’s side for a single fucking second, you understand?”
You nod as much as you can, eyes wide with fear. You truly have no plans to run again—you’d spent enough time on the streets to know that even if you somehow got away (which, in and of itself, is about as likely as you jumping off a building and flying), there’s nowhere for you to go. You have nothing to your name, nothing to barter or trade for on the streets. Kate is, in all ways, the devil you know. Better her than what waits beyond her scope.
The woman holding you face smiles—not the kind that comforts you, but the kind that has you bracing for what comes next. “Perfect.” She pushes you away as she lets go, patting your cheek hard enough that you’re sure it qualifies as a slap. “I knew you could do it. Now, Sharon, walk me through the security protocols, please.”
Kate’s bedroom in her mansion is technically categorized as a “master bedroom,” but feels close to its own apartment within the house. It’s bigger—much bigger—than the home you grew up in, certainly larger than anywhere you found to sleep while away from her. She’s got a large vintage wardrobe that’s been fitted with the favorites of her toy collection, a huge bathroom with a tub large enough for three people, and a small kitchenette.
You have your own walk-in closet, too, not that you really use it. On occasion, you’re arm candy to a fancy dinner or meeting, or you need to catch the eye of a target to leave them vulnerable. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of clothes hang, sadly, mostly unused, as you clap (yes, clap, Kate is not one to spare any expense, especially when it comes to you) the lights on.
You wish you had been given some sort of dress code; you’re not really used to dressing yourself. Truthfully, you’re not used to making any decision on your own, and now that everything rests on you… you’re terrified of messing it up.
It takes what feels like hours, but soon you’ve got three options. A vintage satin wrap dress that hugs your figure but gives you room to breathe, a strappy emerald green floor-length gown with a visible slit that parts every time you walk, and a plush pink sun dress that barely hits your knees but whose sleeves and straight neckline give the illusion of modesty.
In the end, paired with black stilettos and diamond jewelry you’re nearly completely sure was stolen from the Met, you choose the wrap dress. You’re not sure what Russian mobsters like, but you think it’s a safe bet that they enjoy plunging necklines, a high, hidden slit, and perfectly winged eyeliner.
(Or, at least you hope so.)
The car Yelena said would come at eight comes right as the clock ticks into the hour, one of Kate’s servants alerting you to its presence as it pulls into the winding driveway. It’s empty, save the driver, who attempts to neither greet you nor converse with you. He opens the door for you and helps you over the curb, certainly, but the car ride there is completely silent.
Wherever you go, someone seems to be right at your side. The driver escorts you into the restaurant, and the hostess walks you to the far back, where Yelena is already sitting at a perfectly set table in a private room.
“Sit,” she says, pouring champagne into shiny fancy glasses. “We have much to discuss.”
You do as you’re told, taking a champagne flute from her. Initially, you’d hope the alcohol would calm your nerves. Now, you’re settling for it warming your skin.
“It’s nice to have you alone, маленький щенок. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Your face heats—you know your existence is the elephant in the room in many meetings with Kate, but having people know you when you don’t know them has never gotten less strange. Still, your lightweight nature begins to mask itself as bravery as you down the rest of the bubbly liquid. “Anything in particular?”
Apparently, the champagne, while calming your nerves, also dulled your inhibitions.
Yelena, to her credit, just laughs. Like her voice, it’s deep and raspy and goes straight to your center.
“Just that you are a very, very good girl who would do anything for her beloved owner.”
Her energy is electric, enigmatic. This must be what Eve felt like in the garden, with the snake swirling around her in its impossible size. Truthfully, you’d bite into anything Yelena asked you to, if she did it in the same way she asked the waiter for a booth in the corner or how she requested a more “balanced” selection of wine from the sommelier. She even lets you order for yourself, something Kate has never let you do.
It’s interesting to see the differences between the two of them.
As you watch Yelena cut a thin bite of bloodied steak, though, you realize how similar they really are. Yelena, like a knife with an intricately carved handle, and Kate, like a baseball bat with blood in its grooves, may not be mirror images of each other. It is easy to imagine, though, the both of them, side by side, waiting for their turn to torture someone who had wronged them in some way. Danger, regardless of its form, settles its heated self into your lower abdomen.
The conversation is light, flirty. It reminds you of a first date, the kind you went on before Kate domesticated you. You feel…warm, the light of her gaze. It’s hazy, too, the way a fire is in the wee hours of the morning. You feel that same sort of flush, that sort of vulnerability that only reveals itself in the hours before the birds start to sing. It feels both like decades and like seconds before you’re splitting a cherry crème brule and Yelena is sliding the waiter her black card. She holds you close to her with her arm around your waist, her thumb drawing small circles even as the directs you into a black car with the same driver as before. The ride is a daze, her hands dancing over your skin in complete silence.
She guides you into your destination—a hotel—in the same manner, the doorman pointedly making an effort to keep you from his eyeline.
The name of the place doesn’t register until you’re stepping into the lobby, a hand on your waist guiding you to an elevator hidden off to the side. Of course – this is the expensive hotel Kate gets rooms in sometimes to house guests she wants to keep an eye on. Yelena booked her own accommodation, and you doubt Kate needs as much retcon on Yelena as she does for a normal client, but what really causes your breath to hitch in your throat is the cost. A week here is more than most people make in a year, and you know she’s staying for two.
“You’ve been here before?” she asks as she hits on the buttons closer to the top row. The penthouses, you recognize.
“A few times,” you answer honestly. “But never for more than a night or two.”
The room Yelena’s staying in looks exactly like yours did all those years back—modern, tastefully decorated, almost too neat. You don’t have much time to look around, though, before Yelena’s got you pushed against one of the walls while presses her lips to yours. She doesn’t say anything—doesn’t need to—simply bunches your dress in her hands to pull it off you.
It falls to the floor in the same way you think Marie Antoinette’s head did – smoothly, and with silent, eager onlookers watching as it finds its place on the ground.
You expect, or at least hope, there was more fanfare, more witnesses to her destruction. All this dress is getting, as you step out of it and deep into Yelena’s arms, is one woman’s lust. It’s easy to see, though, how anything the Russian does would overpower a crowd of thousands; in the same way her silence screams louder than an army, the way she tugs her bottom lip between her bright teeth says more than anything anyone else could tell you about her.
Her hand rests over your clothed pussy, skimming over the soft skin there. “What a good girl you are.”
You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks and over your chest. You wonder if this is what being burned alive would be like—the light tinging the border of your vision and painful heat quickly turning into pleasure.
“I like them well trained,” she murmurs into your skin. All you can do is grab at her shoulders, holding her close. If Kate said it was okay…
“I’m a busy, busy woman, little puppy,” Yelena peppers small kisses across the base of your throat, her soft, plush lips sending shockwaves through your body. “I don’t have the time to break the brats my…colleagues seem to enjoy so much. But you…you’d do whatever I’d ask you to, wouldn’t you?”
If the room was on fire, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to tell until the roof caved in. Heat licks at your abdomen, sparks flying across your center as you cross your legs in an attempt to dampen the flames. It, needless to say, doesn’t work at all.
“Oh, puppy,” Yelena grins as the hand begins to ghost over your tummy. “No, don’t do that. Don’t hide from pleasure, my darling.”
Your mouth feels drier than a desert as you meet her heavy gaze, her eyes lined with artfully smudged black shadow. She’s stunning, there’s no way around that (not that you want to avoid it); but, truthfully, you’re also not so sure what she sees in you. It’s easy to forget your insecurities, though, when one hand is suddenly moving south and pushing your carefully curated panties to the side.
Her hands remind you of the rest of her—rough, skilled, no-nonsense. She teases you for a moment, ghosting her fingertips over your desperate cunt. You want her, you want her more than a man dying of dehydration craves an endless freshwater ocean. She knows it, too, watches through dark lashes as you pant and chase her lips when she pulls back.
It's only when you begin to whine that she slides her fingers into your dripping pussy, a moan passing her own lips the same as yours. “Oh щенок, you’re wet after just a little kissing, huh? You like it when I touch you there?”
You swallow the frog in your throat, trying to find a way to defend yourself. The choosing you, the conversation in the restaurant, the touches in the car…but your protests die in your chest as her other hand moves to your throat.
“Gotta hold you in place, щенок,” she murmurs. “Can’t have you running away, can I?”
She finds that special spot inside of you easily, like a scent hound to the hideout of a family of foxes. You can hear the beats of horses’ hooves in just under your ribcage, their owners hollering at the chance to hunt properly.
“I-“ You gasp, trying to find purchase against the wall. When the concrete doesn’t make way for your fingers, your find yourself digging them into her suit. “I-“
"Come on, baby, be good for me,” Yelena purrs. It’s sweet, sincere…but you also can’t imagine how fake it’d have to be for you to not feel a trembling in your knees. She could be a snake oil salesman, and you a harlot hypochondriac with money burning a hole in your purse, and you’re sure you would do whatever she asked. “Give me what I want.”
And so, you do – exploding from the inside out like dynamite inside a coal mine. It’s hard for you to keep yourself upright, and you find yourself leaning on Yelena entirely. She catches you, keeps you upright enough so you can catch your breath.
“I know, baby,” Yelena purrs, rubbing her thumb against the fabric of your dress. “I know, it’s okay.”
She holds you to her, gives you a moment to find your proverbial footing as the pleasure settles into the base of your spine, your knees no longer struggling to hold your weight. You pull back, leaning on the wall as her arms cage you in.
“What a pretty girl you are,” she says quietly, as if she’s merely confirming to herself that her assumptions were correct.
Your heart—the stupid, fluttering thing—thumps against your ribs as you reach for her belt.
Yelena lets you do as you please, finding your lips as your hand finds the toy placed just for you. “Mm,” she moves to nip at your neck as you spit on her cock, your hand finding purchase on the carefully molded silicone. “So good, too. I’ve heard a lot of rumors, щенок. It’s good to know so many of them are true.”
Heat rises in your cheeks and chest. You’re not sure what to say, or do. Even if you did, all of your focus is concentrated on releasing what you want from their confines. Yelena doesn’t stop you, but doesn’t help either. All she does is push you to your knees, one hand on the top of your head while the other guides the toy to your lips. You’ve done this thousands of times with Kate, with her own strong hands at the top of your head.
This is different, though, with Yelena. Different in the way swimming in an ocean is different than swimming in a lake; in the same way sexting through text is different than through a phone call. It’s indescribable but perfect, and you can feel yourself dripping as you lick up the length of the shaft.
“Look at me, красивая девушка,” Yelena murmurs, voice low as if to not startle you. She moans as you meet her heavy gaze, the corners of your eyes watering as you slowly swallow her cock. “Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
You’d smile if your lips weren’t so thoroughly occupied, the praise hitting you at every angle. The warmth prods at you, urging you on, with the world shrinking until it was only the two of you and no one else. There was nothing, no one, who could break the focus of you on Yelena, and vice versa.
It's easy, with her hands on the top of your head and endless sweet nothings tumbling from her lips, to swallow her down until your nose was pressed against her pubic bone. She’s got a tuft of light brown hair on her lower tummy, a happy trail you’re eager to nuzzle into when you’re not pre-occupied with her cock.
“Gorgeous,” Yelena whispers, seemingly more to herself than to you.
Funny enough, looking up at her, you’re thinking the same thing.
She swipes her thumb over your cheek, following the outline the silicone makes in the muscle. “Absolutely fucking gorgeous, милый.”
Her praise spurs you on, pushes you to force yourself further and further down until you can feel tears forming at the corner of your eyes and your lungs fighting for air. Yelena just watches you, eyes full of awe and one hand at the back of your head, as you pull back and sputter for air before licking up the shaft once more.
“Enough of this,” she says gruffly, suddenly, grabbing you and throwing you over her shoulder before you can so much as squeak. You’re tossed on the bed much in the same fashion, her hands unzipping your dress and tossing your panties aside as Yelena kisses you. She’s rough, passionate, moving you without pretense until she’s on her back, your core hovering over her face. “Now this,” she moves her head enough to kiss as your empty, waiting cunt. “This is what I’ve been looking forward to since I saw you the first time.”
You want to question her—ask her how she knows about you, how she saw you when Kate keeps you under such close supervision. The curiosity dies as she grabs reaches under your legs to grab your hips and seats you atop her, her lips and tongue moving in tandem. It’s hard to keep yourself from rocking against her, and so you don’t. You grind against her tongue, your hands finding hers to help with her balance. You cum easily, quickly, shaking against her as she moans into your pussy. As the pleasure subsides you push yourself away ever so slightly, seating yourself against her chest. Both of you catch your breaths, the shared panting the only sound in the otherwise quiet hotel room.
When you’re finally able to look down, to see her blissed-out face covered in your juices, you’re mesmerized.
Yelena just smiles up at you, eyes half closed. “черт возьми, you’re amazing. Give me a second, and we can do it again.”
The next morning, Yelena drives you herself, waving away the driver who passes her the keys despite his concerned look. She opens the passenger door for you and closes it once you’re fully inside, getting into the driver’s seat after that. As she drives off, silence settles over the two of you. It’s hard to make small talk in your situation, and so you wait for her to say something first.
Luckily, she does.
“You could come with me, you know.”
You don’t meet her gaze, if she’s even looking at you. All you can do is stare out the car window and watch as the world passes by.
“Americans have nothing on us,” Yelena continues. You wonder if she notices your hands balling into fists. “I could keep you safe, if you wanted to run. It’d be very easy to convince my own people to love you the way Kate’s people do.”
The car stops—a red light, hopefully—and her hand caresses your cheek. “Look at me, щенок. Please.”
And so, you do. Apparently, you’re very easily persuaded.
“Not sure if Kate has told you, but you’re quite the talk of the underground.” Heat rises on your cheeks, the horrors of being known pricking at your skin like needles. “Like some kind of cat tossed out the back. Many people were following your path, щенок. Many people were following Kate’s path as well.”
“W-“ you stop for a second as her thumb rubs at your bottom lip, the lip she was nipping not-so-long ago. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you are a trophy,” she murmurs, eyes flitting from your lips to your eyes to your heaving chest. “You deserve to be treated like one. And I’ve got a special place for you with me, if you want it.”
Yelena lets you look away from her as the light turns green, the world once again shirking its responsibility to be a quality distraction. The car goes too fast for that, and so you are stuck rolling her words over in your brain.
“I can’t,” you say when the club comes into view. “I just can’t.”
The blonde next to you sighs quiet enough that you barely hear it. She nods to the valet—some scrawny kid you’ve seen once or twice. Where your hands rest in your lap, you feel Yelena’s own sliding between your fingers and depositing a simple business card. On it is just a number, the characters a stark black against the thick eggshell paper.
“Maybe one day I’ll see you again, щенок,” she whispers into your ear. “Tell your владелец she can use the docks whenever she’d like.”
You don’t speak Russian, but it’s easy to tell who she’s talking about.
“Thank you,” is all you can say back, eyes wide and waiting. You worry there’s some catch, a bit of rope you forgot to step over that will make you hit the concrete face-first.
But you remain upright, familiar faces ushering you through. It’s still early in the day, which is something you’re grateful for. You don’t need to deal with the prying eyes of patrons on top of the pity from the workers who are mopping the floors and cleaning glasses. You pass a few of Natasha’s lower guards in the narrow, dim hallways—all of them staring at you as though you were a cow being sent to slaughter. They’ll feast on you someday (both of you know it), but you still can’t make yourself do anything but stare at the floor.
Kate shows no emotion as you step into the office, her face expertly wiped of emotion. Natasha, standing guard at the door, seems relieved. She and her guardswomen have always been a sort of Greek chorus, their reactions slipping through the cracks in their facades every so often. It makes their earlier expressions far more sinister.
“Go lay down, puppy,” Kate says without looking at you. “Daddy’s got some work to finish.”
You do as you’re told, taking your shoes off before sliding onto the dog bed. As soon as your skin hits the fabric you can tell it’s been cleaned – the blanket on top of it, too. It’s still warm from the dryer, smelling distinctly of the lavender dryer sheets she buys in bulk. The bed at the hotel was too big, uncomfortable in its never-ending borders. This feels closer to home, and you lose consciousness to the sound of Kate’s keyboard clicking and opera music playing softly from her desktop.
Hours later, you lift your head when you hear her desk light being turned off, the familiar click a moment of respite from the harrowing silence of the office.
She smiles – a small smile, but a smile nonetheless – when she sees you perk up.
Home? You ask silently, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes.
Home, she tells you through a silent nod.
You tamper your excitement enough to follow her calmly, her arm wrapped possessively around your waist as you exit. The club hums with the pre-opening anticipation, and your own eagerness mixes with the electricity in the air.
The ride home is silent, Kate looking more at her phone than you. She does, though, keep one hand on your thigh, and for that, you are ecstatic.
Once home, Kate grabs one of the collars and leash sets that hang inside a custom end table, a bowl of car keys on top hiding its true function. You drop to your knees without further prompting. It’s hard to fight the moan that bubbles at the familiar clicking sound, and so you don’t.
It makes your owner smile, and you preen under the attention. The hand not holding the leash cups your jaw as you, too, grin with her.
“Such a good puppy,” Kate purrs, looking you over for signs Yelena had failed Kate’s commands.
“If I see a single mark on her, I will kill you,” she’d simply said.
The Russian just laughed. “Going to be hard, Катя. How about just the neck?
Kate hmms, thinking about it. She certainly doesn’t need Yelena to pull out of this deal for something as simple as a few hickeys. “Fine. Anything below the collarbone is fair game.”
“Be careful what you wish for, baby.”
You do not heed her warning—you don’t need to. You’ve known Kate long enough to know exactly what you’re getting into.
“Come on, pup,” she says, standing up straighter as begins to walk towards her personal wing of her house. Just as she trained you, you stand and follow right behind her, eyes focused on the floor. You miss crawling, but know Kate likes to keep your favorites for when she’s really rewarding you. When you’ve proved you deserve it.
As you follow her, you pass a room that’s hidden from view - the door closed to warn the eyes from unwanted, unexpected visitors. Inside rests the larger pieces from Kate’s sexual collection - the full cage, the St. Andrew’s Cross, the coffee table with rivets made for rope. All custom-made to her specifications (and your body measurements).
It surprises you, just a little, when she doesn’t lead you directly to there. Kate has always preferred grand gestures to smaller ones, and that preference doesn’t end when she steps into the bedroom. Once, after receiving news a rival of hers was finally killed by another, second rival, she tied you to the bed and edged you for six hours. She set a timer and everything, telling you it was “an hour for each bullet in his skull.”
You swallow your shock, following her diligently throughout her large mansion. You like Kate’s predictability – even when it’s paired with brutality. This change…you’re almost worried, even as excited and the last thrums of your previous orgasms rush through your blood.
It all melts away, though, when you feel Kate come up behind you, kissing at your neck. She pushes you towards the bedroom—the shared bedroom—the one with the bed you’re rarely allowed to sleep in. This is her version of affection, her language of love. She would never say it, never out loud, but it still makes your heart flutter.
“Good puppy,” she moans as she pushes you against the doorframe, kissing you fiercely. “Such a good fucking puppy for Daddy.”
One of her hands snakes between you, cupping your heated mound. It’s still sore from last night, but that certainly has never stopped her before.
“You’re so beautiful, too,” she murmurs breathlessly. “My gorgeous ray of fuckin’ sunshine.”
The beating in your heart travels south, Kate’s hands roaming over your hips and ass and thighs as she kisses you breathless. It’s easy for her to push your dress up, exposing you to the cool air. Kate laughs, staring at where your very expensive panties were no longer present. “She took ‘em, huh?”
You swallow, not sure what to say. In truth, you hadn’t even thought to look for them—Kate usually makes you go without.
She just laughs, going back to caressing your ass. “Can’t even blame her, I would’ve done the same thing if I had the chance.” She moans as her fingers sink into you. They’re not too deep, but that doesn’t do much to mitigate the stretch. “Fucked a lot of good pussy when you left me, but not a single one matches up to this cunt right here.”
You yelp as she slaps your clit, moans replacing the sharp sound as she circles it slowly. It’s easy to love her when she’s the one taking the pain away, even if she’s the one who caused it in the first place.
Without panties, her fingers slide in easily – your wetness already pooling under you. Your pussy is sore, but it only adds to the pleasure that spreads in your abdomen. It’s the kind of soreness you can feel everywhere—your shoulders, your thighs, your stomach, your arms. It feels good to be a well-loved toy, you think. It feels good to be used, to be useful.
“So wet already?” Kate purrs, a humiliating laugh tinging her words. “I bet I could get my dick now and I’d be able to fuck you exactly how I want to.”
You moan—you can’t help it—biting at your bottom lip.
“You want me to fuck you, puppy?” she asks, smiling as you nod feverishly. “Good girl. Strip, then go wait for me on the bed. Hands and knees, puppy.”
You scramble to take your clothes off and find your place as soon as she lets you go, almost tripping over your own feet in your frenzied desire to follow her orders. The bed, luckily, has already been made, providing you with a wide landscape in which to stake your claim.
Kate appears behind you, it seems, seconds later. The elaborate strap she’s chosen is gorgeous—all woven leather and silver hardware. She has a plethora of harnesses at varying levels of similar and dissimilar to the one she’s wearing, certainly, but after she wore it when she made you squirt for the first time…this one had remained her favorite.
You shiver, just a little, when you feel her hands running over your hips. Kate guides you, silently, closer to her. The silicone brushes against your bare core ever so lightly, sending another wave of desire through you.
“So wet,” she murmurs, her fingers everywhere except exactly where you want them. You’re about to whine, to cry, to beg, to do something to convince how desperately you want her, but before you can even open your mouth, you can feel the head of the toy slip inside of you.
“Oh,” you moan, barely fighting the urge to collapse into the bed, to let her use you like a toy. You know, though, that she likes to be the one to choose your position—if she wanted you with your face pressed into the sheets, she’s put you there with a hand between your shoulders. “Oh, please.”
“You’ve been a good little girl,” Kate muses. You bite your lip, trying to suppress the slew of pleads desperate to spill from your lips. “And well-behaved puppies deserve rewards, I suppose.”
You don’t have time to breath before she’s slamming into you, the toy fully sheathed as Kate pins you to the bed.
“Tell me who you belong to,” she hisses, the strap stretching your cunt. Unlike Yelena’s, this one is smooth, ridgeless, with a bulbous head that ends in a cone shape. It hits that spot inside of you with the kind of delicious pain Kate is so well known for—your cries interrupting her commands. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
You can’t speak—you simply can’t. Your fingers grasp at the silk bedsheets, desperately wishing you had claws so you could hook them into the $15,000 fabric and tear them into shreds. Like a werewolf stuck in the middle of its transformation, the rabidness racing in your blood feels too much for your mortal flesh to bear.
And yet, Kate pushes.
“Say it,” she growls, barring her teeth as she thrusts into you.
“I-I,” There’s no way, no way you’ll be able to choke those words out, choke any words out – everything you want to say is lodged in your throat, stuck there like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. You thrash in the same way, knowing your fate but fighting against it anyway. What was that guy’s name? Sisyphus? He had it easy, rolling that boulder up that hill. At least he wasn’t getting his cock teased while it happened.
Or maybe he was…you couldn’t remember much of your early college English classes as a fire raged inside of you.
“It belongs- oh!,” you moan as Kate bottoms out, the leather of her harness pressing against the inside of your thighs. “It belongs to you.”
“That’s fucking right,” she moans, deep in her chest, as she fucks into you with purpose. “You’re mine, all fucking mine and no one else’s.”
Your cries punctuate her proclamations, hiccups and moans layered over her words.
“I don’t care how many other people touch you,” Kate tells you, ignoring you as your howls of pleasure. “I don’t care if every fucking night you’re at the center of some orgy. You’re mine. Not Natasha’s, or Maria’s, or even fucking Carol-“
You’re wailing now, sure the soundproof walls have disintegrated and are thin as paper—pieces of which flap against your sound waves. Kate, in her unwavering desire to ruin you for eternity, keeps going.
“And certainly not some goddamn Russian who doesn’t know when to stop fucking pushing.”
“N-no!” All you can do is wail, clutching to her so hard you’re sure there will be red marks down her back come morning. Kate won’t mind, though. She also likes a bit of pain to remind her of her own mortality.
“Good fucking puppy,” she whispers, panting into your ear. “Took a stray dog in from the street, gave it a collar. Look at it now, huh?” You can hear the smile on her lips—the kind hunters have when their prey whimpers below them. Kate could set a thousand traps, catch you a thousand times, and she’d still have that delicious grin plastered over her face. It makes you feel small, vulnerable, like a rabbit caught in a snare. You love it.
“Such a good fucking mutt,” she moans. “Good fucking mutt who takes my cock so well.”
It’s easy to come, then, already sensitive and desperate and so deeply happy to be back with he woman you love the most.
“Yes, puppy,” she moans. “Give it to me.”
And so, you do, over and over again. Kate continues fucking you, even as you begin to shake from the overstimulation. The world shrinks to just the two of you, Kate panting in your ear and you swimming in pleasure. There is no one, there isn’t a need for anyone, to exist outside of you and her.
You’re not sure when it ends. Like an ocean in high tide, you can only wait for her to recede and grant you peace under her thick duvets. She wipes you down with warm, fluffy towels with Puppy embroidered onto them, cleaning your slick and the dried lube from your center and inner thighs. When you gasp at the feeling of the cloth against your sensitive skin, to which Kate just coos and peppers kisses against your sweaty temple.
“It’s okay, baby,” she whispers. “Go to sleep. I know you’re tired.”
Always the best at following directions, you allow unconsciousness to overtake you.
You wake up hours later, the darkness outside giving you no clues to the time. Your whole body is the kind of sore you haven’t experienced in years, the kind that reminds you of when your college roommate freshman year convinced you to run a 5K with her.
Kate sits beside you on the bed, reading some hardcover book about something or other. She likes older books, the boring kind you’d expect a dad to be reading in an old armchair.
It’s easier to deal with her when she’s satiated; when a deal’s gone well, or her product sold for more than she expected. She’s got a quicker step, and holds one hand in her pants’ front pocket as she smirks.
You’re not always the first thing she concerns herself with after her days go perfectly. She wants to brag—to soak in the euphoria of hard work done well with the people who benefit the most from her dealmaking.
But now, as she pushes sweaty hair from your face and smiles softly…it feels good. It feels right.
“How are you feeling, puppy?”
You blink, trying to clear the sleep from your vision. “M good, I think.”
Kate hmms. “Need anything?”
It’s only then you realize how dry your mouth is. “Water, maybe?”
She grabs it for you without question, reaching into the mini fridge hidden inside a less garish nightstand. She waits, patiently, until you’ve downed the whole bottle, before she speaks again.
“Now,” you can hear how out of breath Kate is, as though her restraint in not asking immediately after you’d woken up had driven her to the brink of madness. “Tell me everything she told you. I want every. Last. Detail. And I’ll reward you in ways you can’t currently comprehend.”
You’re not sure what to say at first, the fear of triggering Kate’s possessiveness is always a looming threat. What does she want to know? That you sat on her face? That she likes red wine? That her Russian accent thickens when she’s fucking?
Kate grabs your chin and forces you to meet her gaze, her eyes narrowed in determination. “Don’t think, puppy. Just tell me everything that happened in the order it happened. This sort of arrangement could change some things, could make you a much more important asset.”
You blink, still unsure. Kate’s eyes, though, don’t move from yours.
“Come on, puppy,” she leans down to kiss your forehead. “Tell Daddy what happened, and I can make you a very happy pup.”
#yelena belova x reader#kate bishop x reader#yelena belova x kate bishop x reader#lukis does commissions#lukis writes stuff#kate bishop/reader
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NANAMI AS YOUR GYM CRUSH
you needed him to pleasure your mouth.
Tags: heavy blowjob, sub reader, cute pet names, soft dom Nanami, fem reader, dumbification, I imagine her being a thick black or Latina woman but it’s up to your imagination.
You'd picked up a good rhythm at the gym recently. You had a goal in mind, and to motivate you a little more, you also had a crush, and no lie, sometimes you'd come to the gym hoping to bump into him. It wasn't a serious crush, just a source of motivation.
He was a tall, muscular blond with a focused, impassive face, just your style. He didn't talk much, except to politely ask the gym staff something.
Seeing his sweat dripping down his muscles and forehead as he worked out made you hot, very hot. But usually, you'd quickly come to your senses and move on.
Once you went to the gym with your friend, trying as hard as you could to maintain your rhythm on the treadmill, and suddenly your friend took away your headphones.
- Y/N, do you know him? she asked, pointing discreetly at nanami.
- Uh, not really. Why not?
- He's been giving you those looks since a moment ago... He's not indifferent to you.
You blush at this sentence, was Nanami looking at you? Had he noticed you too? Thank you for wearing such lovely sports pants, you thanked yourself inwardly. They really showed you off.
That episode had happened two weeks ago, and right now you were ovulating, and damn it, you were horny as ever. You were showering at the gym and you couldn't stop thinking about the blond, muscular, tall, broad and virile man. His gentle yet piercing gaze... You'd start rubbing your thighs together and blush thinking about him.
You were really starting to want to fuck him, a simple crush that had started out so innocent had turned into a pure erotic fantasy.
You put on clean clothes and combed your hair before getting your things and leaving the girls' changing rooms. And honestly, you were so horny you weren't thinking straight.
You followed Nanami's gaze as he wiped his forehead with a towel and headed for the men's locker room to change.
As he closed the door behind him, you soon heard the water running, a sign that he was showering. It was now or never.
You stood obediently in front of the locker room, some of the men who they were there smiling at you a little embarrassed, but you didn't care, you were waiting for Nanami with bated breath.
He came out of the men's changing room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing in front of the door.
- Looking for something? he asked.
He smelled so good... You looked at him with puppy-dog eyes.
- Excuse me, do you have a minute?
- Yes, of course," he replied.
The last man left the locker room, leaving only you and Nanami.
- Could I ....
You looked at him more and more insistently, and he found himself swallowing and feeling his cheeks heat up.
- Could I please suck your dick?
It was asked with such politeness, contrasting with your look full of envy, which unsettled the blond.
Nanami had noticed you and found you extremely beautiful, your self-confidence making you sexy. So for a beautiful woman like you to propose such a thing to him, he'd have to be crazy to refuse.
- I... Are you sure?
- Yes, please," you insisted, placing your hands against his chest.
Nanami briskly ushered you into the changing room. You smiled happily before giving him a kiss on the lips. He kissed you back, exchanging butterfly kisses, and after a few seconds you found yourself kneeling in front of his immense body.
He was standing there and you were on your knees, starting to lick the fly of his pants. You felt him gradually get hard, he unbuttoned his pants and you admired his length, which almost pierced his shorts. You could see the shape of his cock through his boxers, it was all curved upwards and looked so long and thick. You were already salivating.
You pulled down his shorts and finally came face to face with his dick, starting to lick his tip with the tip of your tongue. He let out a moan as you continued to play with his tip, looking him straight in the eye.
You were having fun licking him, you were already so wet.
Nanami was moaning louder and louder, trying to keep his moans to himself but you were teasing him too much. And you were very very beautiful too, your mouth was filled with his cock which made you big cheeks, you had eyes so sparkling with lust and cheeks so red... He felt that it would be difficult for him. He had just finished sport so he was also very horny.
He let go when you started touching yourself while you were sucking him.
- Y/N... he moans softly.
He grabbed your head and violently began to go and come into your mouth. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to take control as your seed began to bead like little drops of rain on the ground. Nanami was forcing his cock to go down your throat and stain every part of your mouth, he felt your tongue wrap around his length and your lips were locked around his cock that even if he was pulled by force, you wouldn’t let him go.
Nanami fucked your mouth like never before, it was so violent that you changed your position. You were on your knees, now you had your buttocks on the floor and your thighs spread. He didn’t even hide his moans.
- it’s amazing, you’re amazing, he complimented you. You swallow everything, you manage to take me...
He moved his hips faster and faster, your mouth was only the receptacle of his frustration, your eyes began to bead with excitement. He was using you and using your mouth as if it were a pussy, your breasts were moving to the rhythm of its comings and goings and his pre-seminal fluid slipped along your throat to drip on your chest.
You were moaning with a big cock in your throat.
"Are you moaning?" We felt that it excited him.
You were so masochistic, it was getting ridiculous. You could not answer, but there was something else that spoke for you: you had just peed on yourself.
Nanami thought it was adorable.
- you look and act like a little cat... maybe I should please your pussy too?
Slowly, it withdrew from your mouth, its length was so impressive that you felt the centimeters slip on your tongue.
"Kitten, turn around."
"I just peed". You were having trouble talking, you were drooling a mixture of your own saliva and his cum. You were shaking too.
"It’s okay, I’ll clean it up later."
You obey him and act like a little cat, you get on all fours, arch yourself as if you stretched and spread your thighs to better take him.
Nanami came to caress his cock against your pussy, he felt that you were stilll very horny.
"Nanami. Please be rough... "
"Your desires are orders, princess."
You’re smiling at the idea that he’s gonna hurt you. You were a little princess in Nanami’s big muscular venous hands that could break you in half in a split second.
His cock slipped into your pussy, you were so wet that penetration was easy. Well… for him. Not for you. You felt like you were just running away with a torture machine. If your mouth couldn’t stand his cock, then your pussy would break in half.
"N...no...." you groan as you stick out your tongue so much.
"Mh? Are you all right?"
- Too big...
He smiled at the heard of this remark which he took for a compliment. Nanami began to slowly moving, you were struggling to stay firmly on all fours, you were on the verge of collapsing. Nanami felt you shaking, so he grabbed your arms firmly, lifted you off the ground and abused your back as no one had ever done.
You could hear the sound of his balls slamming against your butt all over the room.
You shouted with pleasure, you said incomprehensible things but it was so enjoyable to hear you have pleasure that it only excited Nanami. He was getting stronger and deeper, his cock was so deep in you that you felt everything. You asked again and again you didn’t want him to stop.
You suddenly remembered that you were in your ovulation period, he musn’t ejaculate in you.
- Y/N… I will...
- Nanami waits...! Do it in my mouth."
You were so adorable. He let you go before suddenly getting on top of you and putting his cock in your mouth. You were lying on your back and Nanami was standing over you, his cock crudely buried in your throat. He kept moving before finally coming in your mouth. A moan of pleasure escaped from his lips while on your side, you ejaculate in your turn.
You couldn’t scream because he was in your mouth, his hand leaning against the back of your head to keep your lips locked around his cock, Nanami didn’t intend to leave you alone. You were crying with joy, smelling piss and cum . Your eyes were staring at the ceiling and were almost back in your head.
"You look so pretty, don’t hesitate if you still need me. I’d be happy to do you a favor again."
Please I need to suck his dick omg…
#jjk smut#nanami kento headcanons#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento imagine#black reader#anime imagines#nanami headcanons
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And You Are? | Dean
Summary: You enjoy a night at the bar with your friend, who is certain someone’s trying to flirt with you.
Based on this request here! Thank you! :)
Y/F/N: Your friends name
Y/D/N: Your dogs name
Word count: 1,161
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
It's not unusual for you to go out with your friends once in a while. The occasion this time is because you've holed yourself up in your house for 'far too long' according to Y/F/N, who has basically forced you out of the house for some fresh air.
Leading up to the bar, you could tell it was a dingy, cheap place just from how rowdy the men are, and the sound of glasses smashing and people cheering. What's up with that?
"You wanna sit at the bar?" Your friend says, scanning the whole place for somewhere to sit. "If it's best, yeah, it's quite full," You say. The place was packed full of sweaty boisterous bodies, you make your way over to the bar, finding a single stool to sit on. Your friend stood next to you. The both of you ordered your drinks and eventually someone moved, so your friend sat opposite you.
"Hey," She says, nodding at something behind you. "There's a guy, 6 o'clock, has really keen eyes," She says, and you turn around, scanning the room for said 'guy'. "Honestly, I wouldn't even know who you're talking about. There's that many people in here it's almost impossible. Plus, Y/F/N, I am blind." You chuckle, and she facepalms. She reaches down and pets Y/D/N. "Sorry, Y/N. I forget." A smile creeps on your face as you take another drink.
"No, but seriously, this guy is checking you out. If you don't want him, I'll have him." She laughs, showing him a quick smile before taking a sip. You take one last search around, feeling the contact like there are eyes burning right through the back of your skull. "Oh my God, he's coming over." She panics, darting her eyes from you to the handsome 6 foot something guy making his way over. She picks up her drink and downs the rest of it, waving for another round to be sent over.
"Hey, ladies, can I buy either of you a drink?" A deep voice appears from the heavy sounds of the bar. He looks down at you, showing you a warm, friendly smile. His hair short and dark, wearing a dark green unbuttoned over-shirt and a light blue/grey t-shirt underneath paired with some black jeans. His eyes are dreamy, a lovely shade of shiny green, speckles of sunny hazel compliments his dark exterior. Whether his appearance matches his personality, you're almost eager to find out.
"We're fine, thanks. Y/F/N has just ordered a couple more," You start, pointing to the empty glasses in front of you. He holds a glass half full of what seems to be beer, which wouldn't be to your surprise. "There's no harm in ordering more!" Y/F/N laughs, accepting the round of drinks from the bartender, sliding yours across to you. "Here, Y/N. That ones yours." She says, taking a sip of hers. "Oh, Y/N, right? It's nice to meet you, I'm Dean." He holds his hand out, and you grant him a pleasant smile, shuffling in your seat. "Nice to meet you, Dean."
He awkwardly moves his hand away, placing it back in his pocket. "It's nice to meet you too, Y/F/N. I hope I'm not intruding..." He trails, hoping to hear 'no' as an answer. "No, Dean, don't worry about it. We're only out for a couple of drinks then heading back home. She forced me out of my own house." You chuckle, and Y/F/N rolls her eyes. "She's refusing to leave her bed, so I've had to practically drag her by the ears to get her here."
Dean laughs, bringing his drink to his lips. "To be honest, it's not a great place here. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to get out and go someplace else?" He suggests, and you snort. "There's no way in Hell I'm leaving this place with some guy I've met 5 minutes ago, I'll pass." You say, waving your hand at him. Dean holds his hand to his heart, scrunching his shirt. "Some guy? Most ladies are dying to take me home after 5 minutes!" He jokes, and it doesn't fly too well with you.
"Okay, wow, and now he's assuming." You feel a smile creep up, unable to keep it under wraps. "Hate to say it, but I'm not like other girls," You state, silently laughing to yourself.
"I can tell you are," He says, and you tilt your head. "What?"
"I said I can tell you are." He speaks louder, moving closer to your ear. You get a whiff of his cologne, woodsy, musky and sexy. Your eyes lit up as if something inside you has awoken, you've never smelt anything like it. Now you have to know who this man is and what he's about.
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
After a small while of talking, Y/F/N found a different guy she could keep her eyes on and left both you and Dean alone. "To be honest, I'm done. Now Y/F/N has disappeared I feel like I don't have to force these drinks down me," You laugh, "You wanna go sit outside?" You ask Dean, and he nods "Yeah, let's go." He says, he shuffles out of the way to make room for you to get off of the stool. You pull out your cane and take Y/D/N leash, and Dean looks shocked. "Y/N, sorry for not noticing, but you're blind?" He questions, a confused look on his face. "Yeah, you didn't see?"
"Honestly? No, I didn't." He says, and you fold your cane back up. "Well, good, cause that means I can do this," You say, gently placing your hand in his. "Lead the way."
You head outside onto a bench out by the doorway, and you both sit down.
“I cannot believe you kept so quiet about this,” he starts, looking at you with a warm grin. His sudden interest in still wanting to get to know you really makes you wonder if he’s actually worth spending your time with. Dean seems like a really lovely guy, even with all the micro-flirting that’s been happening all night. Not that you’d complain, though, it’s nice to have recognition from such a charming, handsome man.
“I felt like it wasn’t something to mention,” you nod, “plus, I thought Y/D/N hi-vis vest was enough.” You laugh, and Dean nods. “That’s true, I guess I just had my eyes set on someone else.” He rasps, taking the last swig of his drink, before setting the glass on the patio floor. You grew tired, the night getting darker and longer made you crave your own comfort in your own home. Dean isn’t keeping you, yet he gets the hint. The conversation slowly grew quiet, as you both sat and and enjoyed each others company for a while longer.
“You know, I’d thought I’d change and be a gentleman for tonight, but screw it. You wanna come home with me?” He asks, seriousness in his voice.
“Thank God, I thought you’d never ask.”
#supernatural#spn#supernatural imagines#spn imagines#dean winchester#dean winchester imagines#sam winchester#sam winchester imagines#supernatural imagine#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader
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" the wag diaries "
How You Met
~ Mary Earps ~
~~~~~~~~~~
meeting Mary came alongside your introductions to all your new teammates when you joined Manchester United
having previously played only in the Championship League there were equal nerves with everyone
just settling into the club was scary enough, you didn’t have time to think about crushes even if you wanted to
one thing you had seen as a little odd though was when you came home and the same car from training was again next to yours
this time at the house next door
the following morning you strode through your front door, keys spinning on your finger
and saw the one and only Mary Earps climbing into that very vehicle in the driveway beside your own
what began with waves and morning greetings quickly progressed into carpooling together, and soon came invites to dinners, movie nights and post-training exploration of Manchester
(disguised as a simple tour guide act, just welcoming you to the city, obviously!)
after three months of shared rides and teasing jibes at each other constantly, came the sudden announcement of lockdown across the country
you were together during the initial announcement
and still a few hours later when it was decided that training would be cancelled for the foreseeable future
quickly it was decided that if you were to get cabin fever, you would rather do it with your new friend by your side
unbeknown to you at the time the world would be shut down a lot longer than expected
you developed a strong routine though, cooking together, training together, taking your daily walk together
Mary talking you out of adopting a dog on every walk you took
there were also the less enjoyable moments
arguably though they were the ones that bonded you more
picking Mary up from where she lay sobbing, questioning her worth and her skill, vowing to help prove it to her
you went online to order a goal for your back garden the moment she fell asleep cuddled into your lap that night
Mary picked you up too
particularly upon finding out your dad’s cancer had made a recurrence and knowing you could easily make it ten times worse if you travelled home
so walking back into training post-lockdown, there was no question of who your best friend was
you could rival Lessi & Tooney with how close you became
there was an obvious improvement in Mary’s goalkeeping following the lockdown
and she only continued to develop as you encouraged her into extra training sessions
benefitting just as much, as a striker yourself
the following year she finally received her well-deserved call-up as Sarina’s number 1
you couldn’t be prouder! sending flowers the second you heard
unfortunately within that year, you had left Manchester and coincidentally lost contact with Mary
you had returned home to care for your siblings when your father's condition had worsened
taking a break from football entirely since the day he passed
but upon receiving your congratulations the older girl took it as an olive branch to reach out
getting in contact she tried to convince you to return, if not to Manchester then at least to football in general
she was determined to help you to the England team just as you had fulfilled your vow to help her
you were hand-in-hand, knees bouncing anxiously, sat together when her efforts were proved successful
Mary’s call-up came first, and hours of nervous waiting later, yours followed
it was earlier that morning that you had admitted the more than friendship feelings that had been realised between you since your return to Manchester
having woken up to find yourself sharing your bed again
(you had honestly lost count of how often it happened)
and you had refused to ignore it any longer
pulling her tighter in your grasp rather than slipping away
you soon found yourself spilling it all
hence beginning a beautiful journey together in both romance and football as you prepared to head to Australia
~~~~~~~~~~
I hope everyone continues to be as excited as I am about this series!! Big Mary day today🩵
#wag diaries#ace writes stuff#lionesses#woso x reader#mary earps x reader#mary earps blurb#woso blurb#man utd women
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Shadow x reader jealousy hcs?
A/n: yeah! Sure I can! Thank you for requesting! Shadow’s one of my favourite sonic characters due to all the depth they have and all the lore, so I got really excited to write this one and possibly delve slightly into shadow’s psychology a bit when I saw it in my inbox! Also, don’t mind me playing around with post layout, just trying to find something that sticks, y’know? Also, I wasn’t sure if you specifically wanted the reader and shadow to be dating or not so I wrote it as they are, lmk if you wanted something different! I’m not confident in my ability to write jealousy though, so this may not be that great— I hope you enjoy it regardless, though!
Media: Sonic the hedgehog
Character: Shadow the hedgehog
Type: Romantic
❀❀❀❀
-Shadow… doesn’t want to admit these feelings of jealousy. It makes him feel inferior.
-When you’ve been hailed and called the ultimate life form for as long as you can remember, well, I figure feeling like you may not be so ultimate would weigh on you.
-He’s admittedly, at first, not sure what the feelings he’s experiencing are.
-Eventually, when he figures it out, he’s confused. Jealousy? Why? He’s the ultimate life form, why would he be…?
-He feels. More vulnerable than he would like, honestly.
-He trusts you immensely. (If he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t be. Dating you.) Logically he knows you wouldn’t betray or abandon him, but… after all he’s experienced in his life, the fear still lives quietly inside him. The fear that he’ll open his heart to someone fully once again, then he’ll lose them, or they’ll betray him, or leave completely and replace him- he’ll never voice it, though.
-…He pushes it down, though.
-There were people that saw him as a monster. What if you saw him as a monster and replaced him with someone “better”?
-When you get back to him, he’ll be a bit… touchier than normal. He’ll be quicker to hold your hand, might rest his head on your shoulder if you’re sitting.
-“…Shadow? Are you okay?”
-He responds with a noise.
-I feel like if anyone tried to talk to you while he was like this he might just. Pick you up and leave, or, if they’re persistent, might tell them to leave, his aggression in his words depending on who it is and how persistent they were
-He just kind of wants to be alone with you. He wants your attention right now.
-He’ll also be a bit broody the rest of the day.
-God forbid sonic want anything from you shadow would be so snappy at him-
-If this were a scenario where you were being hit on by someone though……
-Shadow would be *very* quick to grab your hand, or put an arm around your shoulders and pull you into him.
-“Not interested, leave.”
-He’s staring the person down in a very intense manner. His eyes boring right into theirs.
-…if the person keeps going though-
-He’ll likely grit his teeth out of frustration, and you’ll feel his hand tighten around yours.
-Yes, he is absolutely down to fight this person if their vibes are off or they just refuse to take a hint.
-“Not. Interested.”
-He’s… sort of like a calm angry. The type you really shouldn’t mess with.
-I… think you may need to stop him, because he might legitimately fight this person if they don’t stop.
-After this goes down, whether he fought the person or not, he’ll just want to go home and spend the rest of the day with you.
-just… a lot’s happened in his life, and… some of that still effects him and his actions.
-…He’s almost like a guard dog or something when it comes to your safety, though at the moment… maybe it’s best not to speak that comparison aloud for now.
#Sonic#sonic imagines#Shadow x reader#Shadow#shadow the hedgehog#my writing#sonic the hedgehog#x reader#shadow the hedgehog x reader
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Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 01 -> CH 02
"Having any second thoughts about staying in the house of horrors?"
"I'm embracing the horrors that make up my life, remember?"
A year ago Jack was being checked into a mental health facility by his best friend. He didn't resist. He felt like he had lost his mind in the process of losing his parents, his childhood dog, his fiancee and the baby she was carrying, along with things that weren't as important like his home in California and his job for the magazine. He had officially lost everything and the only thing that was keeping him tethered to life was Shanda. She refused to let him off himself so the next best thing was to get him help.
Jack had received a few diagnoses during his facilitation. He learned some hard truths as well. His mother had perished in the car accident with his father, the "neighbor" Duncan was actually not real and the people who lived next door were all much older and retired without children.
Once he finally got around to reaching out to Cleo, she threatened him with a restraining order if he ever contacted her again. He knew he deserved that after letting her suffer from a miscarriage alone.
The doctors felt as though the repressed memories of his sexual abuse as a child would eventually resurface. They claimed it to be PTSD triggered by the sudden deaths of his parents. The mental break was classified as a psychotic disorder which made him roll his eyes.
"Oh just that?" He had criticized the doctors at how blase they had been when he explained he tried to murder the ghost of his mother in the place she had died in the car wreck. He knew he was psychotic, he just wanted to make sure he would be able to get cigarettes when they locked him up and threw away the key. However once he got an established therapist, a plethora of medications and a regularly monitored schedule, they felt he was ready to be released.
"Are you sure this is where you want to be? We can get a place here that's not this house or you can move in with Crystal and I?" Shanda had picked Jack up from the facility and he was determined to gut out the memories of his childhood home and start over. There was nothing left in California for him and currently this was the only place he could go that he knew and didn't have to pay for.
"I'll be fine. I'm sure you've already removed the sharp objects so what's the worse thing I could get into?" Jack joked darkly.
"I'm serious. I can stay with you if you want? Crystal will understand." Shanda pressed. Jack hadn't been alone since the day she dropped him at the facility. The idea of leaving him unsupervised in a place with so many horrible memories didn't sit right with her.
"I'm highly medicated and supervised by a licensed therapist almost daily. Fuck, they even have a care worker that stops by at least twice a week to make sure I'm not just sitting around drinking myself to death so I think your bases are covered, Shan." Jack knew the medications had terrible side effects but he can honestly say killing himself hadn't been on his mind in at least 4 months.
Shanda had visited him in the facility once a month and once he leveled out, his therapist had him write apology letters to all those he had hurt. The only person to reply was his old coworker who had sent a "Sorry about you getting fired after you lost your mind" text. Shanda got a letter but she slapped him in the forehead and said "I love you, you stupid fucker." He didn't expect Cleo to respond but he hoped that she was doing alright.
He had abandon all forms of social media during his rehabilitation and had zero desire to fire up any of those accounts now that he was out. There were moments where he wasn't even sure why they agreed to release him but he wanted to at least try and live as normal as possible.
Shanda pulled up to Jack's childhood home which she had made sure to run threw top to bottom almost as if she was child proofing it for Jack's brain to handle. He joked about the sharp objects but she in fact replace the cutlery with plastic ware just to be sure.
"Having any second thoughts about staying in the house of horrors?" Shanda asked pulling him from his thoughts as he stared at the house.
"I'm embracing the horrors that made up my life, remember?" Jack looked from the house towards his best friend. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into a hug inside of the car and feeling the bone crushing grip she had on him. He knew she was scared. He couldn't lie and say he wasn't either but he had to try. He couldn't live locked up forever.
They got out of the car and walked into the front doors. Things had been cleaned up. The window had been repaired and the floors looked polished.
"Jesus did you stress clean the whole house?" Jack teased tossing his bag on the floor.
"Fuck no, I called a service. I'm not Mary fucking Poppins, bitch." Shanda shook her head. Jack smiled at his friend and gave her a playful shove. He walked through the first floor of the house, into the kitchen and noticed the plastic ware.
"So who do I call when I need a can opener?" Jack tapped the top of some spaghetti-O's with a plastic knife.
"Try Ramen. It's in a package and you can tear it open with your teeth." Shanda had apparently gone grocery shopping too. The pantry as full of snacks and things for him to prepare that require minimal effort.
"Oh so you prefer I die of heart failure from the sodium instead of driving a corkscrew into my neck, I see." Jack tossed the package of Ramen on the counter. Jack's jokes about death or killing himself used to bring humor to their conversations but Shanda found it hard to hear him joke so freely after watching him go through his breakdown.
"Hey, I wouldn't be back here if I didn't think I could handle it. I promise to call you every day. I have my therapist on speed dial and I will talk to one of the neighbors about being my life alert or whatever if that will make you relax." Jack put his hands on Shanda's shoulders and rubbed hoping to ease her anxiety. She threw her arms around him to hug him once again. This time he hugged back with the same force.
"I love you, you stupid bitch. Don't you ever forget it." She said into is hair.
"I love you too, you whore." She had saved his life. It was time he started making something of it again so it would be worth it.
#Jack Thurlow#Jack x Y/N#One Shot Series#Culkin Cult#Rory Culkin#Jack Goes Home#Glass Houses#Y/n not mentioned in this chapter but this is just an intro for story layout#Y/n will appear in the third update#1/38
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♡︎𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫♡︎
pairing(s): Tim Shepard x gn!reader, Sodapop Curtis x gn!reader, Dallas Winston x gn!reader
summary: Coming back from your outing never did your boyfriend expect you to come home with a gift that needed receiving than giving
word count: head canons so no need
request(s): Is this the right spot? I never ask for anything so idk. I haven’t seen much of Tim Shepard so I want to ask for a gn reader that brings back a puppy or kitty for the holidays if not for Tim, maybe dally, or sodapop please —anon
warning(s): fluff, kisses, mentions of violence, pet names, grumpy Tim and Dally per usual, and language
A/n:—GIFs @moirailegiance,@tessgifs,& @angelic-stimz— First holiday/winter request! I haven’t done head cannons in such a long time so let’s get to it
♡︎Tim Shepard
You were literally Just going to the store so you could grab some more sugar for you Christmas cookies-
So how the hell you ended up with a puppy is beyond you
“Where the hell have you been!? I was about to send a search party after ya!” Coming from a worried Tim who was having heart palpitations he’d honestly thought the Soc’s had got their grimy hands on you and that made him beyond uneasy
“Okay so when I tell you, promise you won’t freak out” Your now bouncing on the balls of your feat and Tim couldn’t tell if it was from nervousness or excitement you couldn’t tell either
“Okay.. tell me what?” All while looking exactly like this. 🤨
“Never mind”
“Just Tell me!”
“I just said never mind!”
You guys went on like that for a while until you just finally snapped
“I got a puppy! It was the last one In it’s bunch and it was alone!” Cue you taking a little puppy no more than 4 weeks out of your inside coat pocket
“Oh lord Y/n, and it’s one of those little rat dogs!”
“It’s gonna get bigger Tim!”
I strongly believe that Tim is like one of those dads who swear up and down that it’s your dog, your responsibility, and he’s not going to do anything for it.
Scolds you for like an hour about how much time goes into puppies while your just nodding like a child who got caught with their hand stuck into the cookie jar
But then does everything and more under the sun for the little fella
Tim fucking knits!
And he knits them little sweaters and booties because ‘their too little and it’s too cold’
He’s definitely one of those dads who like have a beer in one hand your little puppy sleeping on his chest and is like two seconds away from falling asleep in the reclining chair
Very protective
God Bless one of his guys accidentally step on HIS SON!?
I don’t think they would be very recognizable afterwards…
Refuses to let the little pup walk on their own afterwards for a while…
REFUSES to put HIS SON in a cage/dog house/ restriction of any the sorts
You think his child is going to sleep anywhere other than a doggy bed that’s 100x their actual size?
“If their not drowning in it it’s not good enough”🤷🏽♀️ —Tim Shepard for president
Once caught Ted —one of his guys— trying to give his son a bone
He. Let. Him. Have. It.
Because the audacity, his child is held to respect as he is. So to think you were going to give him your scraps it’s disrespectful to him. Puppy get his own chicken torn off the bone 🙄
Does not let them cry or whine for more than five seconds.
Immediately picks them up.
Secret does ‘the baby voice’ he thinks no one know about
Christmas morning he’s sitting on the floor beside you with your son between his legs guiding his little hands to open his presents
It’s the cutest thing.
They play for hours too.
Moral of the story Tim is a proud dog dad🫡
♡︎ Dally Winston
“No.”
The first thing that comes out of Dally’s mouth as soon as he sees you step into your shared home with a cat cradled in your arms
Takes a lot of convincing for you to keep it
Dally Still doesn’t like it though and keeps his respectful distance
Or tries to and fails
Cue to your cat following him around everywhere
It annoys the hell out of him.
Until one particular day
You both visited Dally at work aka Bucks places and Dal was practically rolling his eyes at the little feline attached to your hip
It was in the afternoon and the bar was empty
“Dal watch them so I can go to restroom please” Dally just nods his head so you can stop bothering him about really keeping his eyes on the thing
Buck has a fish tank.
And Dally only looked away for a minute and there goes your kid swatting at the fish as Buck is running around like chicken with its head cut off
*proud dad look while nodding his head
So your kid is into mischief?
Dally claims them now.
Doesn’t move from behind the counter as he watches them jump onto tables pushing glasses off the surface onto the floor
And then as soon as you get back he jumps back onto the floor and snuggle around your feet
He really likes this kid now.
Probably because it’s quite literally him in the form of a cat but yk thats just a guess🤷🏽♀️
They are the biggest trouble together
But they know they’re both adorable so they can’t get into too much trouble
Dally swears up and down he doesn’t know what your talking about when you ask him about the missing tuna cans
I mean his child has to eat something Y/n 🙄
Sometimes their so bad together it gets to a point where you put both of them in a timeout in separate corners. Both. Of. Them.
*cat meowing
“Yea man I know.”
Moral of the story Dallas ends up falling hardest 🤭
♡︎ Sodapop Curtis
Being honest
Soda was the one who actually brought your puppy home-
“She’s so cute can we keep her Y/n pleaseeeeee!”
“Soda honey, a puppy is a lot of responsibility”
“I’ll feed her, and walk her, and everything! You won’t have to lift a finger I swear!”
You lift lots of fingers.
But they both go great together! They have so much energy they will be outside all day if you let them
All. Damn. Day.
Once you called them both in for dinner just to see them standing on the porch both covered in mud. Head to toe. Snout to paw.
You had to wash them off with the hose.
Soda takes her everywhere.
To the store, on walks, even to work!
They’re the best duo on the block 🙄
She has like four beds all around the house and still sleeps in the middle of the bed between you guys
Everything soda eats they eat too
“Soda no!”
Cue sodas hand pausing in mid air as he tries to give the pup chocolate
Catch and Tug of war is the only game they play
Religiously.
Moral of the story they’re your favorite people!
#tim shepard#tim shepard x reader#sodapop curtis#sodapop curtis x reader#dallas winston#dally winston#dallas winston x reader#dally winston x reader#the outsiders#the outsiders imagine#the outsiders x reader#fluff#romance#gn!reader#gender neutral reader#i love you#2022#thewriterg
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"Do you wanna have a baby, baby?" Having Kids headcanons (Psycho Pass)
Kogami
Kogami always wanted a family. A big one.
Being an only child, he was always jealous of his friends and classmates who had siblings. So he decided early on that once he found someone, or the System picked for him, he’d have at least 3 or 4 kids.
His perspective obviously changed after his fall and becoming an Enforcer. Besides it becoming an almost medical impossibility for Enforcers to have kids with the drugs they give them, his world view has changed significantly on the idea of brining an innocent life in the world.
Once his role has changed, and he joined the MFA, his feelings on the matter change a little bit. He thinks about it, from time to time, but still has the barrier of bringing a child into the world with the evil still going on around it.
Gino
Gino has never wanted children.
Their unpredictability and messiness is a trigger for his borderline OCD. Plus there are other factors.
His father was a criminal, according to the system, and more pressingly his mother had a very serious disease. Since the system refuses to acknowledge it, there is no proof on whether it is an environmental mental disease like depression or anxiety, or a genetic mental disease like schizophrenia or bipolar. He can’t risk it.
There was a time, when he was younger and still in the System’s good graces, that he felt it was his duty to have law abiding, upstanding children, and would have had at least one if he got married. Now he realizes that was selfish, and chooses to just be childfree with is dogs.
Kagari
Doesn’t want kids. Doesn’t need kids. Actively hates them.
This could be because he’s still young, but he’s never liked kids. In big part because he’s never interacted with them.
His whole life has been in incarceration. So the idea of kids and family were never an option for him. And the fact that his family threw him away because some computer told them he was bad still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
Honestly, he’s been on the contraceptives/medications they give Enforcers and other jailbirds so long, that he doesn’t think he could get a woman pregnant. There’s a fair chance he might just be sterile now.
Sugo
Sugo really wants a family.
One of the reasons he joined the military was to have a stable, steady pay check and benefits for his family. His grades in school were middling, so his work options outside of military service were limited. Also making the world safe and all that.
He’s the only one who hasn’t really given up on the dream. Sugo isn’t sure how he’ll swing it (maybe get a special dispensation from the government or something for exemplary service) but he’s sure he can figure it out.
He’d like to have two kids. Either a boy & a girl, or two boys. He has nothing against daughters, but Sugo knows he wouldn’t be able to handle them properly. Plus he knows himself enough that he’d never be able to say no to them and he’d be wrapped around their finger.
#psycho pass#psycho pass headcanon#psycho pass hc#kogami#kogami shinya#ginoza nobuchika#sugo teppei#kagari shuusei#headcanons#kogami shinya x reader#psycho pass ginoza#ginoza nobuchika x reader#kagari shusei#kagari shuusei x reader#sugo teppei x reader#psycho pass x reader
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Hello! I've been looking around the PTN blogs and didn't found that much work about us being a sinner, i would love to see Langley in a relationship with a mad guard dog sinner reader
I see we as a society have progressed from wanting to kiss Rahu to wanting to be Rahu. I completely get that though.
Hope you enjoy, anon! Warnings for violence and some minor coercion (NOT in regards to the relationship) beneath the cut.
Langley in a relationship with a “mad guard dog” Sinner!Reader
Honestly, Langley is not the sort of person who needs a bodyguard, Paradeisian or not, so one couldn’t help but wonder just what she was playing at by hiring you. Perhaps it had something to do with her enmity with the Hush, seeing as Shalom had acquired a bodyguard for herself? Whatever, you weren’t paid to speculate.
The first time you met Langley was shortly after you were detained by the MBCC. You were an S-Rank Endura Sinner, kept under high security as you had caused a massive incident and been incompliant during interrogation. Even the shackles weren’t enough to keep you in line – or rather, the Chief simply refused to deny even you your autonomy if they could help it. What a sentimental fool.
When you first laid eyes on Langley, you felt a plethora of mixed emotions. Disgust and rage, because this woman was the director of the 9th Agency, Paradeisos’s intelligence organization, and you had no reason to believe she was any different to the rest of those scum. Fascination and curiosity, because… this woman was a Sinner.
Eventually the rage won out. Who cares that she was a Sinner? She’s Paradeisian, a gear in the machine that grinds people like you into dust. The only thing that stopped you from trying to attack her were your heavy restraints, applied after the incident in the interrogation room.
Given how you’d treated her, the last thing you expected was to be unchained the very next day. But that’s how things turned out; you couldn’t even fully process the series of events as you were being herded into a 9th Agency car and shipped off to a Paradeisos mansion.
The mansion was large and ornate, and your room was comfortable. You were allowed to even roam in the gardens, though guards were posted to prevent you from leaving the property.
You hated it. Who did that bitch think she was? You weren’t some fucking dog or pet. Mania exacerbated your fury, and you ended up breaking many things inside Langley’s mansion. A sense of vindictive satisfaction washed over you as you observed the mess you had made; surely this would make that bitch realize the mistake she’d made. Chained up in an MBCC cell had to be better than being penned in by this ridiculous attempt at playing house.
Much to your dismay, Langley wasn’t upset by your rampage; if anything, she was amused. She seemed to have expected it even, judging by the smirk on her lips as she shook her head and tutted, “My my, I seem to have picked up quite the troublesome little pet.”
Her words boiled your blood. You! Weren’t! A! Pet! When she expressed her intentions to take you in as her bodyguard, you saw red.
When the haze of Mania cleared from your mind, you were pressed face down on the carpeted floor of the room, the cold steel muzzle of what could only be a gun pressed to the back of your head. “I can’t force you to do it,” Langley murmured, voice low and deadly, “since I’m well aware that it’s foolish to have a bodyguard that wishes for my head. I can keep you here for as long as I like. It’s not a good idea to bite the hand that feeds you.”
Though you despised it, you knew she was correct, so over the next few weeks, you worked on taming the rage inside your veins every time you saw her. If she wanted a bodyguard out of you, all you had to do was bide your time until she realized she wasn’t getting one. Sure, you’d be shipped back to the MBCC, but with escape not an option, this was better than the alternative.
Or at least, that was your plan. As time spun on, it became easier and easier to restrain your anger with each passing day, and something new flooded into the void eagerly. No, not something new, something abandoned; that initial spark of curiosity you had felt towards her.
When you realized this, at first you were suspicious, scrutinizing your interactions with Langley for any sign of deception or manipulation. Unfortunately, there were none, unless you counted your first day at the mansion. Which you definitely were, but other than that… Langley had been nothing but surprisingly kind to you.
Damn it all. When had you stopped seeing her as filthy Paradeisian scum, and instead begun to view her as someone you’d be interested in getting to know? It was an unbelievable hit to your dignity.
You half-couldn’t believe it yourself when you approached her hesitantly, mumbling that “fine, alright, I’ll be your bodyguard.” And from the way Langley smiled, you realized she knew it would turn out like this all along.
The thing is, Langley was incredibly competent and hardly had a need for a bodyguard. Most of the time, she’d dispatched any threats before you even knew they were there, and you suspected that the Corruptors or gangsters or assassins or what-have-you that you did get to take out were her gift to you, a way for you to take out the violence and Mania that thrummed beneath your skin. It had to go somewhere, after all, lest you bring yourself to ruination.
Still, this allowed you to be closer to Langley than you had ever been penned up in her mansion. Always a step behind your mistress, silent most of the time – but sometimes, when nobody else was around, Langley would talk to you, about any and everything, asking for your thoughts and feelings on a wide berth of topics. The last time you’d felt as calm and soothed as in these moments was long before you became a Sinner.
After a year or so spent in Langley’s service, however, a moment arose where you truly had to protect Langley. You don’t know what calculation had been incorrect or what clue had been missed – that wasn’t your job – but something had gone wrong. It felt like a chill down your spine, an uncanny feeling of instinct, and you moved before they did, and your world turned red as the white-hot pain of a knife sunk into your abdomen–
You’re not sure how long you spent unconscious, between the bloody madness and the blissful nothing that followed after, but when you next came to awareness you were laid up in your bed. Wondering how you got here, you tried to sit up – only to hiss in pain as your wound flared up. Looking down, you saw your abdomen wrapped in gauze – that’s right, you remembered now. You’d been stabbed by an assassin trying to protect Langley. Where was she? Was she alright?
Before you could begin to fret too much, the door to your bedroom swung open, and there she was. Her hat covered her expression, but you could nevertheless hear the genuine concern in her voice as she called your name. Langley… cared for you? Really? But you knew the spider well enough to know she wouldn’t fake something like this. Plus, it was in line with what you’d seen of her interactions with her subordinates in the 9th Agency.
You’d been asleep for three days, she told you, and yes, she was fine. Your wound would fully recover but the assassin’s blade had been tinged with Mania, so you’d be on bedrest for longer than normal. The assassin themself was dead. You’d made sure of that. Apparently you’d gone into such a fit of Mania that Langley worried she’d have to shoot you for the sake of everyone present – but there had been no need for that, since apparently after the assassin was dealt with, you’d collapsed then and there.
It was around now that you noticed that you were wearing a clean nightgown, not the clothes you’d worn on the day of the attack. There was also a conspicuous lack of blood on your body. You asked about it, and the answer you got caused you to flush red to your ears – she’d taken care of bathing you herself. “I hope you don’t mind, pet,” she said, with a smirk half-hidden by her hat that indicated to you that she was well aware that you didn’t mind at all, aside from how flustered it made you.
The pain from your injury went ignored as impulse suddenly spurred you to act, as it so often did. You grabbed the spymaster’s face and pulled her closer, crashing your lips together in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You relished the tiny gasp against your lips, the satisfying thrill of taking Langley herself by surprise just this once; then, her hands were on your hips and she was pulling you closer, her tongue slipping into your mouth as she claimed her rightful dominance.
When you finally parted, breathless, your abdomen was on fire. Noticing this, Langley chuckled and pushed you down by the shoulders. You went willingly. “Try not to tear your stitches open, dear,” she chided, though her tone was amused – and you couldn’t help but notice you were dear now, rather than pet. “We’ll have plenty of time for this once you’ve fully healed and are back to work.”
She didn’t linger for much longer after that – work called – but you were, for once, perfectly content to lay in bed, heart thudding. Langley’s words carried an unspoken promise of a future of you and her, and with the memory of your lips on hers and her tongue in your mouth, you couldn’t wait.
#ptn#path to nowhere#ptn langley#path to nowhere langley#langley#ptn headcanons#path to nowhere headcanons#headcanons
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What Dies Doesn't Always Stay Buried (Missy/Gomez! Master x reader x Thirteenth Doctor)
Summary: you left your home to travel with the Doctor after the loss of Missy, but what happens when she comes back?
Warnings: implications of the reader going through the different stages of grief, references to overdrinking, mild swearing, starts sad but ends happy, the beginnings of a surprisingly healthy poly relationship between Missy, reader and the Doctor, suggestive comment made by Missy near the end
A/N: is this an incredibly niche pairing that I wrote for? yes. but I can't get the thoughts I have of Missy x 13 out of my mind, so I can't be bothered to apologize for it. I just sort of spilled out a bunch of nonsense onto my keyboard so the plot, storyline, ending, literally any of it might be garbage, but eh. most people probably aren't going to see this anyway, and if I cared that much I wouldn't be posting it in the first place
Everything felt dull and gray after you lost Missy. It was like nothing you did mattered anymore. You started acting reckless and stopped caring about the consequences of your actions. Not that you thought about them too much before, but at least then you had Missy to enjoy the chaos with. Not anymore.
You honestly didn't think there was anything or anyone that could ever make you feel happy again. Until the Doctor showed back up and did just that. Out of all the people you thought could possibly make you feel better, never in a million years would you have ever expected it to be them.
They found you wasted in some shady bar on a planet you'd crashed Missy's TARDIS on, drunkenly trying to pick a fight with an alien who was much bigger than you. After paying your tab and apologizing profusely to both the bartender and several of the patrons, they dragged you outside and propped you up against the wall of the bar's alleyway.
"What the hell were you thinking? What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?" Something about this random stranger seemed awfully familiar, but considering you were utterly wasted it was difficult for you to recognize them for who they were.
"Look here, blondie," you slurred in annoyance, shooting them an unimpressed glare. "Who are you-" you jabbed your finger at their chest to emphasize your point "-to tell me what to do?"
The stranger scoffed and rolled their eyes at your rude behavior. "I'm the Doctor, obviously." She looked down at her frame before adding in a mutter under her breath, "though I suppose I do appear a bit different than last time."
Your eyes widened almost comically at her words as you finally put two and two together. "Oh, hey, I know you-" You went to give her a friendly pat on the arm but instead toppled forward, landing against her.
She let out a soft "oof" as she caught you, sighing as she realized just how out of it you appeared to be. "Alright, that's it. I'm taking you with me."
"Wha- hey, no, you can't just take me in like I'm a stray dog," you protested as she took you by the arm and helped you to her TARDIS, doing just that.
You didn't remember much more from that night other than waking up with a killer hangover, but since then you'd been staying with the Doctor and accompanying her on her travels. She gave you the option to go back home, bringing it up several times in fact, but each time you refused.
Missy was gone, meaning you had no home to go back to. And while you never told her the real reason why you didn't want to leave, you were sure The Doctor knew.
At first you wanted nothing to do with her, refusing to leave your room. Eventually that grew boring, and you found yourself reluctantly making conversation with the Doctor whenever you bumped into her on your mindless walks through the seemingly never ending halls of the TARDIS.
It brought you peace, as they reminded you of the ones that Missy had in hers. You'd sit there on the floor, staring at the ceiling as you wallowed in your grief until either the Doctor found you or you fell asleep.
You wanted to stay soaking in your ceaseless pain forever, feeling guilty anytime you found it in you to smile or laugh. Especially whenever it was caused by the sonic screwdriver wielding blonde.
It felt like betrayal, to be able to find happiness and peace with your former love's best enemy. But after everything you'd been through, you couldn't help it.
You knew you'd cling to the next person you formed a connection with after Missy's death, regardless of who it was. And even though you tried to keep your distance, tried to brush off your feelings as the misplaced love you still had for Missy, it was more than that. Much more.
The feelings you grew for the Doctor weren't shallow or fake, they were very much real. After being alone and miserable for so long, you were able to get rid of your grief and let it all go, finally accepting that you were happy.
You and the Doctor were in love, and even though you still cared for Missy you were finally able to accept her being gone. Until all hell broke loose when the one thing you never expected would happen did- she came back.
The Doctor had taken you on one of her standard 'let's land on this random planet and see what comes of it' trips. The two of you were walking hand in hand through the ruins of some ancient civilization, stopping occasionally to study the crumbling architecture.
You listened as she happily rambled on about the city's people and what inevitably caused their downfall, smiling to yourself at her childlike nature. As you glanced around the room that she'd told you was once used as a temple of sorts, your eyes caught a small compact mirror that lay on the ground.
Letting go of her hand, you knelt down and carefully picked it up. It was much too modern looking and not nearly damaged enough to have come from this time period. "Hey, Doc, what's this?"
She stopped mid sentence and moved to crouch down next to you, carefully taking the compact mirror from you. "I'm not exactly sure." She admitted as she turned it over in her hands, studying it closely. "Obviously it's a mirror of sorts, but it doesn't appear to be from this time period, or, hell, even this planet."
Before you could respond, a silky voice cut through the room, one that didn't belong to either of you. "That would mine. I must've dropped it, silly me."
Both of your heads snapped up immediately, the Doctor's eyes narrowing in suspicion as yours widened in shock. You couldn't believe who it was. There was just no way. It was impossible. It couldn't be her.
"Who is it?" The Doctor asked cautiously as she stood, carefully pulling you off the ground with her. You wanted to say something to reassure her, but your words seemed to fail you. There was so much that you had to say, and yet when you went to speak, nothing came out.
An amused chuckle came from the same shadowy area that the voice had. "Oh, Doctor, surely you haven't forgotten me already." The person to which the voice belonged stepped forward, moving out of the shadows and in toward the light.
Your previous suspicions were confirmed almost instantly, your jaw dropping as you took in the sight of the woman before you. It was Missy, just like you'd thought.
Her hair was down and looked curly from being unbrushed, she was lacking any makeup, and her clothes looked like she stole them from the previous Master, but it was definitely her. If you hadn't known her so well, you might not've been able to recognize her at first, but you figured that was possibly done by her on purpose.
"Missy," you breathed her name out, your hand instinctively reaching out for her. She smiled at you softly, moving her own hand out to take yours as she took a few steps closer.
"Hello, dear." Her eyes traveled along the features of your face slowly, as if she was trying to take you in. "I take it you missed me."
She flickered her gaze from you over to where the Doctor stood. She hadn't spoken once since the dramatic reveal, uncharacteristic for her as she usually could never shut up. "What's the matter? Didn't expect to see me again so soon, now did you?" Missy asked proudly, seeming quite smug.
Instead of speaking, the Doctor just continued to stand there for a moment before lunging forward and pulling Missy in for a bone crushing hug. You're not entirely sure what was said, but it sounded a lot like the Doctor muttered "I missed you", followed by a soft apology.
Both you and Missy were speechless. Neither of you had been expecting this tender display of affection to come from her. Anger, maybe, sure. Sorrow, even, you might've thought. But not this.
You watched in awe as Missy hesitantly used her free hand to pat the Doctor's back, her proud demeanor softening as she melted into the hug. After a few moments, you felt her tug on your hand gently as a subtle invitation to join the two.
That was all it took. You moved over to them, wrapping your arms around the two loves of your life as you let out a quiet sigh of content. Part of you had been worried that the Doctor would try to keep you away from Missy as a means to protect you, so you were relieved to see that didn't seem to be the case.
"I love you." Your soft voice cut through the comfortable silence, causing the four heartbeats belonging to the two Time Ladies in front of you to quicken. "Both of you."
"Ah, well, I love you, too," the Doctor replied somewhat awkwardly, as you'd never said that to her before.
Missy let out an amused giggle before speaking, having already heard this sentiment coming from you before numerous times. "So do I. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried."
It didn't slip past you how she seemed to be addressing both you and the Doctor, and judging by how the blonde's cheeks flushed it apparently hadn't gone unnoticed by her either.
"That's- that's great, then." She stammered out nervously, avoiding looking Missy directly in the eyes. "Let's head back to the TARDIS, then, shall we? I'm sure Missy must want to change into something that's more her style."
"Yes, let's. And if you're lucky, I just might let you help me out of the clothes I'm wearing." Missy added in a low purr, something that made you grin in delight while the Doctor's face turned redder still. It was nice to know that even in this new dynamic involving the three of you, some things hadn't changed.
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