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on-leatheredwings · 4 months

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Co-Conspirator

Yandere! Bruce Wayne x Yandere! (Fem!) Reader

> romantic > summary: Ever since you asked him to help with your… reconnaissance, he’s been nothing but a great help. And judgment-free. Batman is as paranoid and insane as you are, and that is why he is quite possibly your best friend. > word count: 1285 > [ a/n: just something short, something cute, something for the Girls. i think mutually yandere relationships are a fun dynamic not very explored!!! Still, its pretty mild yandereism here. Trying to warm up to writing bitches who are Actual Freaks . uhhh lmk what you think. hope i communicated the reader's backstory well. the fact she's only a little crazy is amazing, all things considered. i'd love to make a whole fic of this but alas, i am Not Very Good At Plot]

You are dating Bruce Wayne. You bite your lip at the thought, hoping it disguises your shit-eating grin. You have been told you look like a total cheeseball when you daydream.

It’s a month-long relationship that’s still currently under the radar because you don’t have the luxury of a dual superhero-civilian persona. First, getting trapped in a pocket dimension for 10 years because something-something-Speedforce; next, being booted back into your home dimension and falling out the sky; then, wreaking havoc in Gotham City with your new, uncontrollable powers unmasked and in clear view of Gotham City choppers and news cameras… These things secretive identities do not make. No matter.

Hence why you tend to stay holed up in the Justice League’s Watchtower or your apartment, and rarely go out otherwise. But a month ago, you were bored. Neurotic. You decided to help your good buddy Batman. Fly to Gotham with your power and surprise him on patrol. And, well, you ended up saving Bruce Wayne (and hundreds of other socialites) after a three ton bowling ball careened into a gala at Wayne Tower, courtesy of the Riddler. Your telekinesis kept the whole building from collapsing. You guess that must’ve really turned Bruce Wayne on, because he was shortly afterwards chatting you up and won your phone number.

On your first date with Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you blurt out, flustering, that you don’t want to overshadow his charity and all the good work he’s doing. Bruce Wayne dating anyone makes headlines – let alone a superhero. Yes, yes. You simply didn’t want to cramp Bruce Wayne’s philanthropic style. It wasn’t that you were utterly unprepared to have that level of media scrutiny on you and were insecure about dating a man completely out of your league.

Bruce thanked you for your concern and then kissed you deeply, expertly, for your trouble.

You replay that night’s events in your head, and– goddamnit– cheeseball. You clear your throat and clear your mind.

“I think I’ll want a copy of his birth certificate from Gotham General.”

You glance at Batman, who is seated beside you, and see the corner of his lips quirk.

“Because you’re going to pull up his birth chart.” Batman knows astrology is an enduring interest of yours. You pout, pulling up Gotham General’s files and sifting through the database.

“... Maybe.”

You pause from your search on one of the Justice League’s supercomputers, sneaking a sheepish glance at your co-conspirator. Ever since you asked him to help with your… reconnaissance, he’s been nothing but a great help. And judgment-free. Batman is as paranoid and insane as you are, and that is why he is quite possibly your best friend.

You flush. “You know– I– Thanks, Bats. Really. I’m glad you aren’t acting all weird about this.”

Batman doesn’t say anything, but you know that he’s giving you his full attention.

“Like, I’m not a freak or anything. I just have to make sure I know what I’m getting into.” You puff your cheeks. “Know he’s… you know. Good.”

What a lie. You’re just scared and don’t want to get caught with your pants down. Despite being an actual living, breathing, metahuman and superhero… Bruce is the one with the power in this relationship. He’s… everything. Encapsulating. Towering. Anyone would want him. You think of the lingering looks very, very beautiful women give him. Everyone does want him.

You feel a pang of violent loathing and nausea that is tided over when Batman speaks.

“... I know plenty about Bruce Wayne. He’s… good.”

Your brows rise. You’ve only known the man for a few months but even you know that’s a glowing compliment coming from Batman. His highest praise on most people is usually neutral at best. “Hmm… okay.” You turn back to your work, laughing. “Well. I also just think he’s kind of interesting to learn about. What other celebrity has this much lore? The prodigal son… Prince of Gotham… Collector of orphans… Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor...”

You worry your lip, gnashing your teeth. Bachelor. That’s what everyone thinks he is, right? You blink and curiously turn to Batman, whose hands are flying across a keyboard, hard at work. You hope you’re not bothering him. W-well, he’d say if I were, right? you think.

“Is it weird if I put cameras in Wayne Manor?”

Batman stills and your throat dries. Damn.

“... Um… Too weird…?”

After a tentative silence, Batman responds.

“... No. You’re just covering your bases.”

Your cheeks fill with color as being vindicated – a view you don’t know makes his heart race marginally quicker.

“Yeah!” You cough, composing yourself. “I mean, yeah. You can learn a lot about someone from what they get up to when they think they’re alone.” You can also make sure they’re not bringing anyone home, but you keep that part to yourself.

“I could plant them, if you need. I have plenty made for this kind of surveillance.”

You’re smiling widely, wheeling your chair over to Batman’s side before you know it.

“... God. Batman, you magnificent mind, you. This is why we’re buddies.” You lean over and poke his chest cheekily, right on the bat emblem.

Bruce has to restrain himself from catching your hand on its retreat. Your poke burns a hole in his chest for minutes afterward, and he welcomes every second of it. He turns back to his computer screen, vainly attempting to not think about how much he wants to kiss you right now.

Perhaps Bruce should’ve simply asked you out as Batman. You spend much more time when he’s under the cowl than not. But frankly, you would’ve been too distracted during missions. Hell, he would’ve been too distracted. He already thinks of you all the time.

Your investigation into Bruce Wayne has tripped several of his alarms, even before you told him of it. Anyone making inquiries with this level of depth draws his attention. Nothing you’re looking is anything he’s averse to you knowing, so he’s allowed you to investigate him freely and without redirection. But of course, you don’t know that. The effort you’re making is… cute. The fact you don’t know that Batman is Bruce is cute. You think you have the upper hand. And that’s… cute.

Bruce doesn’t think too deeply about your stalking, even though he probably should. It’s probably evidence of an unstable individual. He’s sure ten years alone with no stimuli in a pocket dimension does things to a person. But who was he to judge? He’s violated the privacy and boundaries of everyone who affects his life in any important way. Nor does he claim to be a shining example of ideal mental health.

And at the end of the day, this situation is all under his control.

There is a small part of him that feels guilty for keeping his identity under wraps, but there’s a bigger part that’s amused. You don’t know that he’s had your birth certificate since the day after you met. You don’t know that there’s about twenty cameras working 24/7 in and out of your apartment. Or that he’s your new landlord. These are things he’ll tease you about once he confesses that he’s Batman. You’ve made him someone who likes to tease.

Still, Bruce remains hesitant about telling you. How would you react? Would you feel betrayed? Hurt? Dread floods his bloodstream, an effect only the most depraved individuals in his rogues gallery tend to have on him.

Would you leave him? Hate him?

His eyes skirt towards where you sit. You worry your lip, eyes glued to a plan of Wayne Manor, no doubt debating where you want him to place the cameras he’s offered. Tension leaves his shoulders, almost imperceptible.

Luckily, the chances of that seem slim.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #yandere reader #bruce wayne #yandere batman #batman x reader #i have got to make everyone crazier #mine

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flashbangstars · 15 days

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Doctors Appointment - L.J.N

This is a Prequel to Never a Martyr , they aren't really connected plot wise but the same au, if you are feeling funky and fun you can go and read that one as well!!!

Pairing: Jeno x Fem reader MDNI 18+ 2.6k +

Genre: Smut, like a whisper of plot building

Warnings: Oral f! receiving, Unprotected sex, a tiny bit of manhandling..? Jeno is a quiet freak

Summary: After being hired as the new doctor, one of the patients in your case file draws your attention. You try to ignore him staring at you through his window as you walk down the hallways until curiosity gets the best of you, and quite possibly might be one of your better decisions and the start of a very bad patient-doctor relationship.

Authors Note: hello friends : ) I started writing this because I wanted a bit more to the story from before, but I really liked the idea of this story starting before the first one. So I hope you guys enjoy, this isn't super proofread so bear with me lol - xoxo flashbangstars

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It was day 173 when he heard the rhythmic tap of heels on the concrete floor, a hot contrast from the normal harsh slam of military boots on the cold floor. Going to his window he peered out and watched as a long white lab coat fluttered as you walked away, and a black pair of stilettos carried you swiftly throughout the hallway. Your hair bounced with each step, uniform dark curls contrasting against the pristine white of the coat.

It was day 184 when you were back again, this time the heels were swapped for a red pair of stilettos. He caught you before you had passed, His movements stuttered back from the window when he saw your face, dark eyes framed with thick-framed glasses. Your eyes bounce around the hallways observing the row of doors and locks as you quickly try to make it to the end of the hallway. Your hair was down again in the same curls.

Days 185-203 he began to paint the image of you into the inside of his brain. The hair, the way you bit your lips, and the way you would wear blouses that you thought weren’t see-through. The way where if he was discrete enough he could make out the outline of the bra you were wearing underneath the satin. The time when you grabbed something from your pocket and dropped a pen on the floor pulling it out, when you bent over the slit in the back of your skirt showed off the back of your legs, dangerously close to where it would be indecent. All of this was on repeat in his head.

It felt like a sunny day when you stopped directly in front of his room and stared in through the glass, he stepped back and tried to still himself as he was caught in your gaze. Hearing the door knob move, his eyes snapped to the lock and watched as It turned to pop open, disengaging the lock. Taking another step back he could tell he was almost flat against the concrete wall.

And then you walked in.

Today you were wearing a white blouse tucked into a grey pencil skirt, your hair down, and that same pair of glasses laid on the bridge of your nose. He was unable to think, his eyes scanned you all over at an alarming rate, taking in everything he could while there was no barrier between you two.

“Hi, I am Doctor Y/L/N, I am part of your healthcare team” you spoke, your voice constricting around everything in his body.

You had been hired under the main doctors of the project, you weren’t technically an outsider, but with the little amount of what they had told you. It felt as if you were being kept with a veil over your eyes. Walking in the first day to rows of rooms filled with people, all in uniform order, and all looking as if they were inherently scared to not be in uniform order.

You had been assigned as a caregiver to 0423 in your third week there. You had known who 0423 was, he had a habit of staring at you each time you walked through the exhibit hallway. You would always feel his cold gaze as you passed. Being face to face with him felt like being in a cage with a scared animal, but you couldn’t quite tell who was what.

You moved closer to 0423 and watched as his eyes widened again, You pulled your stethoscope from around your neck and gestured for him to come closer, resigning to let him choose when he wanted to allow you in.

You pressed the cold stethoscope to his chest and avoided eye contact, as soon as his heartbeat filled your ears, your brows shot up, eyes snapping to meet his that had already been watching you.

“Why Is your heart beating fast” your voice came out a bit more concerned than you had meant for it to be, but you couldn’t take it back now.

“Because you are here” he answered, breathing out his words as if he had been holding his breath.

You felt your face heat and averted your gaze away again, pretending you were occupying yourself with moving the stethoscope around his chest.

“I saw you the first time you came down this hallway” his heartbeat quickened as he started his sentence “Your shoes look very uncomfortable” he uttered.

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out of you, dropping the stethoscope back around your neck and smiling. Your laugh was half agreeing with his sentiment, and the other half being amused that this tall six-foot-something super intimidating person just shared his opinions on your high heels.

“Well, beauty is pain-“your sentence dropped off reminding you that you only knew him by a number, your eyes looked up in question.

“Jeno- My name is Jeno,” he said in response, his tone turning lighter than before.

Out stretching your hand you smiled.

“Well it is nice to meet you Jeno” he grasped your hand and shook it firmly, not breaking eye contact, the corner of his lips curling into a small smile.

You knew this technically was not allowed between you two, but something about him negated the cold reviews from your supervisors. Labeling him as “dangerous” and “a risk” didn’t make sense to you.

You had left his room that day confused as to what to think. As you walked further from the room, you became conscious of the eyes on you, specifically Jeno’s.

The next day, you were assigned to the night shift of patient checkups. Surprisingly Jeno was never on the list. He was always in top health and you were sure that was because of higher-ups wanting him to be in top health.

As you made your way through the list, your eyes would linger on Jeno’s door each time you passed. The first time you passed he was sitting on his bed reading, and the second time an hour later he was out of view. Part of you was glad he hadn’t noticed you, but also felt partially disappointed. You knew that creating this bond with him wasn’t smart. But each time you were brought back to those dark eyes, it was hard to ignore the want for more.

You had finished your last room and locked the room behind you, as soon as you heard the lock click your head slowly turned in the opposite direction of the hallway. Checking your watch the time read 3:54 am.

Without thinking you let your feet carry you to right in front of the door you had been carefully observing all night. Inserting the key in into the lock and turning it, your hearting pounding against your chest, your hands shaking.

Opening the door, you slowly looked up and were met with those same dark eyes staring back at you. He was standing back pressed against the wall with his shirt unbuttoned and nothing underneath, signs he had been attempting to sleep but still was wide awake.

You breathed out heavily not knowing how to break the silence or staring contest you two were having. Squeezing your fists together you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Hi,” you said in a breathy voice, being careful not to be loud to alert others.

He slowly sat up on his bed and the light from the hallway reflected off his chest, the dim lights illuminating the taut muscle that was usually behind thick navy uniforms.

“I don’t usually have check-ups, I’m not on the list” He stated, phrasing it as a question, but you could tell he already knew the answer. His vocal pace is painstakingly slow, with each drag of consonant-vowel making your heart beat faster.

“You’re not” you confirmed, stepping closer and planting yourself at the end of his bed, leaving less than a couple of feet in between you both.

Not breaking eye contact he began to walk towards you.

“Why are you here” He whispered now standing directly in front of you, his breathing audible from how close he was, and his chest rising and falling in coordination.

“ I don’t know..” You said exhaling, your shoulder tensing with how tight you were clenching your fists. You flinch when you feel his hand slide around your waist and his face angle closer to yours, his bangs now brushing against your face.

“I think you do know” his lips now grazing yours as he spoke, his nose nudging into yours. Completely invading your space and begging to be close, needing to be closer.

“Yeah..” You breathed out, your reserve finally breaking and pushing closer to him closing the gap, slotting your lips with his, and beginning to move in sync with him. The kisses slowly grew sloppier and hungrier. The grip on your waist was tight and he kept grabbing you harder. Beginning to move he directed you towards his bed and laid you down, blanketing himself down on top of you and resuming the kiss. Spit began collecting at the corner of your mouth as he pushed deeper exploring your mouth. Pulling away you felt his teeth graze your bottom lip and then snap down on the soft flesh. Pulling away from the kiss with your bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go, you tasted the familiar tinge of iron in your mouth, your breathing quickened.

Jeno was straddling you at this point, both his knees framing your hips. Standing up on his knees over you he pulled the navy button up off his shoulder leaving him topless. Reaching down he made eye contact while he slowly untucked your blouse and began to unbutton it. Making sure to brush against your chest as he went. Taking the thin fabric and pushing it away to reveal your chest.

Ducking his head he took your nipple into his mouth and began to lave his tongue over the bundle of nerves, his other fingers occupied with pinching and rolling the other. Whiny breathy gasps kept leaving your mouth and you kept trying to arch off the mattress in response, but each time was met with a large hand pinning you back down.

“You are so fucking pretty, You aren’t even supposed to be here. Why did you come here?” he kept questioning as he nipped along your chest, feeling his teeth against your collarbone before sucking on the skin. His voice sounded drunk, and his actions growing more wild.

Bucking up your hips, grabbing the pencil skirt he yanked it down your legs leaving you only in your underwear and tights contrasting the stark white lab coat beneath you. As if he was frustrated with there being another layer he grabbed your tights and ripped them down the middle, leaving a giant hole, the thread snapping and fabric ripping filling the silence beside both of you breathing heavily. His breath hitching when he was met with the black thong you were wearing.

“I watched you every day- in the hallway- your stupid skirts and their stupid slits-why would you wear that to work” Jeno spoke lowly as he lowered his face to be eye level with your pussy a smug smile painted his features as he scolded you for your clothing choices. A sharp gasp escaped you as he bit down on the thong and released it letting it snap back against where you were already extremely sensitive. Hooking two fingers in the piece of fabric and moving it away he dove into you, licking and sucking loudly, it sounded obscene in the echos of the room. The added pleasure of his nose continuously bumping your clit as he moved back and forth fucking you open on his tongue.

Jeno Pulls away and you grab blindly for him. Knowing that if you were too loud you risked someone catching on to you being in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing, with the wrong person.

“Please please Jeno” Your tone was watery and begging for him to continue to get you to that point you were craving. You were gasping for air borderline hiccuping at how bad you were needing the sensation again. Jeno stood up again and planted his knees on the bed, nudging your legs till the backs of your thighs were resting against the front of his.

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs and a prominent outline of his hard cock. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you unconsciously pushed yourself closer to him. Feeling his hand push back down on your stomach stilling your movements.

“Be patient” he commanded, you looked back towards him and he was slowly stroking himself. Taking his hand off your stomach he brought it to his mouth and licked from palm to fingers, not breaking eye contact as he brought that hand down to your core.

Feeling his fingers ghost press around your entrance you felt yourself clamp down around nothing, it was almost painful at this point at how bad you need him in you. Feeling his tip bump at your entrance and slowly push in you bit down on your lip feeling the sting once more from when he had bitten you earlier.

Falling forward he placed his hands on both sides of his your head and slowly pushed himself to be fully seated in you, his hips flush the back of your legs, sparks raking through your body as you clenched and unclenched around him, unable to calm your body.

“Please move Jesus Christ” you said reaching to grab his waist to stimulate some sort of movement. pushing your heel into his side to urge him closer.

Upon hearing your request he slowly pulled out and slammed back into you, your back arching off the bed and bringing your hand to your mouth to try and stifle the scream that ripped from your throat. His pace stayed unforgiving and deep. His eyes stayed focused on yours and watched as you struggled to be quiet as he unraveled you quickly. Tears began to collect and get caught where your glasses rested on your face.

In a quick move, he pushed your hips up further and folded you, pushing your thighs into your chest, your hand flying to grip the sheets as a sharp gasp echoed against the walls. His hand grabbing your face to muffle your sounds.

“You have to be quiet Doctor” he grunted through his teeth, the title almost feeling demeaning as you were literally pussy to the world at the moment.

From the new angle, you felt every single thrust in your stomach, racing fast toward your climax. On a particularly aggressive thrust you came, your back arched off the bed again and your legs shook from where they were being held your body jerking coming down from the sensation. Struggling to string words together you forced your eyes to look at him, to meet his gaze already focused on yours. His eyebrows were tightly knit together.

He thrust a couple more times, and you felt the sting of overstimulation kick in with each extra drag in and out. Finally feeling that warmth in your core he collapsed down onto you pressing you deeper into the mattress, his body sweaty from the overexertion.

You felt his breath hot against your ear and felt your head return to somewhat normal-ness wrapping your hands around his back and stroking lightly against his spine.

“I need to get back” you whispered into his ear, tracing your lips against the shell of his ear. pushing your glasses off your face and on top of your head.

Responding to your reminder her slowly lifted himself off you and stood up, He looked around and grabbed his t-shirt from off the floor, and looked at you apologetically, before flipping it inside out and wiping it in between your legs. You laughed and knew you were so utterly fucked.

That night he watched you walk back down the corridor, stark lab coat, and those same uniform curls now ruined and thrown into a messy clip, Heels clicking a little bit slower as you exited from view.

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#nct dream #nct #jeno #jeno fic #jeno smut #jeno imagine #jeno scenarios #jeno fanfic #jeno imagines #lee jeno #jeno x reader #nct jeno #jaemin #chenle #haechan #mark lee #renjun #jisung #flashbangstars

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f1nalgirlz · 4 months

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Valentineseve | Jack Thurlow

[ This one is porn w/o plot so if you want fluff it is NOT here ]

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ fem pronouns, fem anatomy, implied cheating, unprotected sex, sex with a stranger, Y/n is morally gray, Jack is basically an asshole lmao, slight age gap but it's only mentioned once i think?

˗ˏˋcontent´ˎ˗ car sex, creampie, Y/n is sad, Jack is married, a **LITTLE** angst because ofc there is

1 hour ago, Tuesday, February 13th

Y/n jammed her hands into her jacket pockets, a sigh leaving her lips as she cut down the Valentines aisle. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the holiday, and her mood was not helped by the many other visitors that were crowding the aisle, looking for the perfect gift for their lover. Y/n had nobody to shop for, and didn't intend to change that anytime soon. She only came here because she needed some chocolate to drown her sorrows.

As people filed out of the aisle, she worked her way further into it, chewing her lower lip as her eyes examined the tall shelf in front of her. The shelves were all stocked full, and Y/n had the pick of the litter. There was a wide variety from the different brands, but they all had the same effect on her, memories of her last relationship flooding her mind with bitter feelings. She had no intention of ever getting into a relationship again, but she liked chocolate too much to let an opportunity like this pass.

Y/n scanned over the many chocolates as her mood grew more somber. What did she really have to look forward to anymore? She let out another long sigh, and tried to focus on the task at hand. She scanned over the shelf again, and tried to pick one at random, but the variety was honestly overwhelming. Her sadness slowly faded away and was replaced with annoyance as the realization finally set in. She had no clue what to pick.

With a sigh, Y/N took a step back, hoping to get a better look at the contents on the top shelf, but she was met with something sturdy hitting her back. She quickly turned her head to look behind her, where she was met with icy blue eyes staring back at her. She'd just bumped into someone. Heat rose to her cheeks and her stomach twisted in embarrassment. "i'm so sorry." she said to the man.

The man she had bumped into was tall, his long messy brown hair framing his pale face. He was attractive, and seemed to be a few years older than her. He had a sharp look in his eyes, like he was trying to determine her state of mind. Yet, there wasn't any hint of anger on his face. His eyebrows relaxed and a small smile worked its way onto his lips. "it's fine, accidents happen." he said warmly. All remnants of embarrassment melted away and she smiled.

Present, Tuesday, February 13th

Y/n's chest heaved against the seats of the dark haired man's car, the man whose name she came to find out was Jack. Lewd sounds filled the car, the sound of skin slapping skin as well as the wet sounds coming from her cunt. A choked moan escaped her throat as Jack pounded into her, his hand gripping her hair. After a few more thrusts, a gasp slipped her lips at the feeling of his cock being pulled slowly out. She felt strong hands grasping her skin and moving her body, flipping her over. As her back hit the seats, she was staring up at Jack, whose blue eyes were trained on her red face. He looked more disheveled now, brown strands sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead. Without a word his hands were lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders, once they were firmly in place, he used his index finger to tug her wet panties to the side once again. He smirked down at her, wet doe eyes staring back up at him, before thrusting his cock back inside without warning, punching a moan out of her. A husky moan filled her ears.

She heard a few expletives escaping Jack's lips in mumbles as he started pumping in and out of her already soaked hole. Y/n's head tipped back, falling against the seat, her hair bunching up under her. She only glanced down when she felt hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into the soft skin of them as he hammered into her with fervor. Her eyes actively avoided the gold band that Jack sported on his left hand, instead choosing to focus on the way he was currently hitting every right spot inside her, sending chills down her spine. Lithe fingers found their way into Jacks messy hair, tugging slightly as he continued his eager thrusts, leaning forward to catch her lips in an aggressive kiss. Teeth nipped her lip before being soothed over by his tongue, it felt like he wanted to devour her whole, and she'd let him.

Jack pulled apart after a few moments, a string of spit connecting the two. Y/n's body felt hot, a familiar tug in her lower stomach as her cunt clenched uncontrollably around the taller man's throbbing length. She sucked in a shaky breath, eyes growing watery as she looked up at Jack hovering over her. "you gonna cum?" he asks, almost teasingly with a smirk, before a grunt leaves him. Y/n nodded quickly, head falling back against the seats once again, a guttural moan being forced out of her as Jack kept his pace, fingers finding her clit with ease. Tears pooled her eyes Jack pounded her cunt, using his left hand to abuse the sensitive bundle of nerves. She forced her eyes open, looking up at Jack through blurry eyes. "Gonna cum..." she choked out, hips rolling into his movements lasciviously, earning a chuckle from him.

"Yeah? Cum for me." he whispered into her ear with a smirk, that's what sent her over the edge. Y/n's body shook at the intensity of the orgasm, Jack never stopping his pace, letting her fully ride out her orgasm. A few low moans left him at the way her cunt pulsed around him. That's all it took to send him over the edge, one last sloppy thrust and he was releasing into her, teeth sinking into her collar bone making her roll her hips against him. He groaned, throwing his head back as his hips slowly came to a still. Y/n was still coming down from her high, chest heaving with each breath as she laid there with her eyes closed. Soon, she felt fingers pulling her panties back into the correct placement, opening her eyes she looked up at Jack who was already cleaning himself back up. Y/n took the hint and sat up. She began slipping her pants on and pulling her shirt back into place. "I have to go... but i'd really like to see you another time." Jack's voice pulled her from her autopilot. She nodded at him, allowing him to help her out of the car, stealing one last glance at the inside, not being able to stop the way her eyes caught the bag of Valentines gifts in his passenger seat.

Jack pecked her cheek one last time before climbing into the drivers side seat and starting the car. Y/n walked away, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach.

R: this is not proof read yet, it's probably ass but😰 i'm keeping my word and doing BOTH since that was the result of the poll.

i don't own the two dividers used creds to: @gigittamic

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writings-of-a-demigod · 11 months

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Opportunity of a lifetime (Mission Impossible)

plot: you being a thief crossing roads with Ethan Hunt and leaving an impression on him so he recruits you to IMF.

characters: Ethan Hunt x reader + Benji Dunn x reader + Luther x reader

a/n: first one shot to post. sorry if there are any mistakes point them out to me so I can fix them.

*gif doesn't belong to me*

Growing up as an orphan was hard but you were tough. Since you’re an orphan you played and stayed outside most of the time and did pick up a skill or two. And you kept practicing picking locks and pockets, you were getting pretty good, the things any money you got from people were a great price.

Until one day you pick pocket the wrong person, it was just wrong person wrong time. Well, that’s what you thought but that man saw your potentials, so he took you under his wing trained and shaped you to be the perfect thief. And that training included incredible gymnastics skills, hand to hand combat due to excellent upper body strength and acrobatics. After that he sat you out in the world his thief, his legacy. You did so wonderful on your own and even gained a name for yourself in this game.

That tracks up to now: There you were in the middle of a job planning to retrieve an item for a buyer from Brij Nath’s private gallery and the party was your way in. You’ve done jobs like that a thousand of times, so it was an easy one; go in disable the system making it think it’s a glitch then replace the painting with a fake one and get out so easy so boring but the pay was worth it. What you didn’t plan was to get caught.

“Who’s that?” asked Benji using the comms.

“I don’t know but I intend to find out.” Ethan glance at you when you first entered the party. Didn’t really think much of you just a regular person but he was proved wrong when he saw you sneaking into one of the rooms that were off-limits. He got curious and followed you while still checking with Jane she can handle herself for now.

That lead to this moment Ethan had a tight grip on your arm staring at you with an intense gaze “Who are you?” he asked.

“You think I’m going tell you that?” you raised your eyebrow.

He sighed “I guess not.”

Before he could get another word out you managed to grab his wrist then turn your body to get his hand off you, delivering a strong kick to his ribs then went for a punch but he managed to block your punch. You tried to shake this man off you by fighting so you can make a run for it but he was good at fighting ‘Who is this guy?” until you saw your opening when you got to handcuff him to the door handler. He didn’t realize until he heard it and looked down to see the handcuff. He then looked at you with raised eyebrow “Seriously?” you just shrugged “It’s working just fine right now.” You turned around got the painting, made it to your exit at the widow then faced him again seeing how he’s trying to unlock to handcuff “Hope to never see you again” winking at him then jumped.

~~~~~~ skipping time to a couple of months after ~~~~~

Benji made an id after searching for too long with the help of Ethan then finally found out who you are, he was busy with other things not his fault though. There they were at Benji’s desk, Benji’s eyes glued to the screen Luther standing behind him leaning on his chair while Ethan was pacing the floor.

“Oh my!” Benji’s voice broke the silence, Ethan turns around to face the two of them reading everything they can find about you.

“Ethan are you sure you want this person to join the IMF? Because wow!” Benji spoke first.

“Let’s me see” Ethan went to stand next to Luther to get a look at the screen.

“Yep, that’s them” Ethan looked at the picture of you on the screen then read the files. You defiantly made a name for yourself. As a thief you stole all kind of things and it was impressive how good you are but never killed anyone not a killer.

“That’s a long list.” Spoke Luther after reading the files they have on you. “Looks like they really left an impression on you if you’re thinking of recruiting them.”

“But are you seriously still thinking about it?” Benji took his eyes off the screen to stare at Ethan.

“Yes Benji. I want them on this team.”

“And how are you supposed to get them to meet with you? And how are you going to trust them or then trusting us?” Benji was seriously questioning his friend decision on this. And he had all the rights to do that, you being on the team when you’ve been working solo for almost all your life is going to be hard and having people to trust you when you met in the most unconvincing situation was completely something else. How are you going to have their backs in the future should you actually work with them on missions?

“And how are you planning to do that?” Luther straightens up and turn to get a better look at Ethan.

He smiled at him “Easy one of you is going to pretend to be a client that needs a job to be done.”

Benji rolled his eyes “Of course it’s that easy. Like they’re not going to check the background of the client.”

“So which one of us do you want to be the client?” Luther asked Ethan.

There you were checking your watch to meet with the new client. You did everything checking background, activities across everything. Even though you did shady business you don’t want to be caught dealing with shady people or being set up to take the fall for something that might or did happen. You were taught way better to fall for that. Your mentor wouldn’t forgive you for it. The client sat up the place for the meeting and to make sure you had access to all cameras close by to alarm you if you see a bogie on your tail. And just on time the client showed up as promised. You enter the tunnel knowing full well that if this thing goes south you got a way out.

“Good evening are you Y/n?” he asked.

You looked him over, a man with a nice navy Armani suit, tie and cuffs. Expensive cuffs always a good sign to good payout for when the job is done. Ginger hair slicked back with think black frame glasses.

“You got that right. What can I do for you mister Smith?” you showed him a smile to ease him. He looked a little nervous.

“Well I’ve contacted you for a job and apparently you’re the one to go to for that.” He nodded at you.

“I take full price before the job is done and an extra after especially if it coasted me trouble.” You told him.

“I bet you do.” He chuckled a little “But I’m not the one who wants to hire you.” He waved his hand.

With your confuse expression someone walked out of the shadow and stood next to mister Smith. He looked directly at you and you recognized him, it was that man the same man you left handcuffed in Nath’s party. You sensed someone walking behind you, turning your head you saw this big man standing in your way out of the tunnel. Turning your attention to the men standing before you.

“So you found me? Want me to congratulate you? Who are you anyway? And did you hire me to do a job or you wanted to arrest me?” You asked.

“Not really. I’m not here to arrest you.” He took small steps towards you with his hands raised “And I’m not a cop or a fed either. My name is Ethan Hunt and I want to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime.”

You raised your eyebrow at him ‘so he’s not a cop. What does he want anyway?’ you nodded at him “Well go on.”

“I read your files, consider me impressed and you are exactly what I need on my team.” He told you.

“You’re kidding right?”

The man behind you spoke “No he’s not.” You turned your head to look at him “He’s really impressed with you and what you do.” He smiled at you.

After listening to Ethan’s offer you took a moment to process what he’s saying to you. It was a lot to take it but you would be lying if that didn’t excited you. This opportunity was gold, so what if you’re doing it to save the world and you could die a horrible death and no one would know what you did. That wasn’t any different from what you are doing now beside you did think this what you were doing got boring with time. So you had no other choice but to accept.

“I accept.” You said it while looking at him “But I got to warn you I’m not very good at teamwork.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He smiled and offered his hand to shake yours. After you shook on it, he said “Welcome to the team.”

“I’m Luther.” He shook your hand after Ethan while smiling at you, so you smiled back.

The last one was mister Smith, he was hesitant but you shook his hand “Benji” he said.

“Why do you look sad dude? I’m joining the team.” You smiled at him while walking with him.

Ethan and Luther were walking in front of you two “He had second thoughts about you joining us.” They laughed.

You turned to Benji “Don’t worry I’m not going to rob you while you’re sleeping.”

He turned his head so fast to look at you “You’re thinking about doing that?” he said in a panicked voice.

But you just laughed.

#writings-of-a-demigod #mission impossible #Impossible mission force #ethan hunt #benji dunn #luther stickell #ethan hunt x reader #benji dunn x reader #luther stickell x reader #mission impossible imagines

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triplesilverstar · 2 months

Text

A lecture to never forget

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Wolfwood X F!Reader

CW: clothed sex, dirty talk, degradation kink, office sex, oral sex, slight voyeurism, teacher-student relationship, porn with plot, listen you’re getting railed by Wolfwood as a teacher, hand job, cum swallowing

Word count: Roughly 1.2K words

A/N: A follow up blurb to file versions are important, You and Professor Wolfwood find yourself in a jam with both of you horny and Wolfwood needing to teach. What's a poor tired handsome professor to do?

You let out a moan as Nicholas’s large palm gropes at your ass, keeping your body as close to his as possible while his tongue sweeps against your lips before running the tip along your teeth. One of your hands is tangled in his hair, not wanting any space between your lips as you cautiously engage his tongue with your own.

A yelp that he swallows, caused because he pinched your butt and you feel the vibrations of his laughter through his body. You might want to be mad at his dirty trick to have you jolt against him, but the feel of his body as he dominates you cools that simmering anger rather quickly. Another moan as his fingers drip beneath the waistband of your pants near your hip, with a groan from Nicholas that rumbles like a storm.

Only for an alarm on his watch to go.

“Fuck!” Hissing through his teeth before digging his phone from his pants pocket.

“Nicholas?”

“I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, here.” His eyes are narrowed and hearing that your quick to close the distance and start working to fix his tie and messy hair.

“I guess we didn’t plan that one well.” You whisper making him look more put together, but as your eyes trail downward there’s one thing you don’t think you can fix. He’s got a hard on that you’re pretty sure you’d be able to see from the far side of the hall.

“Won’t be the first time I give a lesson with my dick hard because of you.” You don’t know if you should take it as a compliment or a complaint. Undoing his belt and reaching down to adjust his cock inside of his pants before stopping, licking his lips as he raises his head to catch your gaze. “What are you doing after this?”

“Nothing, I was gonna hide out in the library for an hour if you’ve got a lesson before heading to your office.” You wanted to fuck him tonight, and the delay was worth the wait shrugging your shoulders while you answer.

“Wanna try something risky?” His voice has dropped and that husk that makes your core throb, but you aren’t sure what to make of the wolfish grin growing on his face.

“What are you thinking Nicholas?” Swallowing as he smirks like the cat that ate the canary, he already knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

“How about you suck me off from under the podium?” Leaning closer so he can whisper in your ear. “My horny little slut.”

You let out a small whine at the thought of it, knowing you were hidden just out of sight while he taught with his cock in your mouth. The fact you had to be silent and couldn’t go to town with his blow job like you did in his office made you rub your thighs together. “How long is this lesson?”

“An hour.” Biting your lip as you look at the podium, can you spend an hour tucked inside of there? Nodding as you look at Nicholas and the tip of his cock that he’s pulled free so you can see his shiny head.

“Good girl.” It takes a bit of effort but you’re able to squeeze yourself inside the wooden space and get comfortable, chuckling when Nicholas drops a piece of fabric that was tucked to the sides to hide under there.

The sound of movement in the lecture space has you smirking behind your hand, doing your best to hide your nervous chuckles but in a few more minutes a sound that makes you body clench rings out. “That’s enough chatter for one day.” Launching into his lesson with the same vigor you’re used too from him.

As he passes his introduction you grin, pushing the fabric aside to reach out for his zipper to tug him free once more. Licking your lips before pressing a series of quick kisses to his head, licking him as silently as you can, a tremble of his flesh under your fingers and a noise that he hides behind coughing makes you smirk.

There isn’t a point as far as you’re concerned with pumping him to drag this out, your lips around his tip as you suck. Hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pump his length, all the way down to his base before touching your lips.

Another noise and his hips jerk wanting more of his length inside your warm mouth. “Professor, are you alright?”

“Fine, just maybe coming down with something.” You smirk, he’s coming down with something alright. A case of blown balls. You want to hum as you start to take more of his cock but it isn’t worth the risk. Instead, you play with his ball through his pants, enjoying the way his hips jerk again and you let him sink more of his dick into your mouth the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Swallowing the ever growing amount of saliva in your mouth while using the tips of one of your fingers to catch the fluid dripping through the corners of your lips. Wiping the excess on the fabric keeping you partially hidden.

As you suck and Nicholas starts to thrust his hips more into the podium you start to fear that you might give the two of you away. Starting to suck harder and pumping him at a speed that you know will have him cuming. A grunt rings around the space and you smirk in your hidy hole.

“Professor, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m just, feeling-” A choked out gasp from him as he cums, and you drink down his thick load. “Under the weather.”

“Sir, maybe you should take a seat, you look a little flushed.” As you feel the final spurt in your mouth you pull off him and swallow. A few quick licks to clean up the rest of the mess before tucking him back inside his pants.

“I think that might be a good idea.” He sounds like he's run a marathon instead of having just stood at the front of his class. Patting his crotch after you secure his belt with his softening cock trapped between his body and clothes.

Checking you watch you roll your eyes. You’ve got a long forty five minutes before he finishes, settling in to listen to him, hoping he’s ready to return the favor later.

Dividers by me

#trigun smut #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader smut #nicholas d. wolfwood smut #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood #wolfwood x reader wolfwood x reader smut #wolfwood smut #trigun #trigun maximum #trimax #tristamp #trigun stampede #trigun maximum smut #trigun stampede smut #trigun 98 #Trigun 98 #smut #wolfwood wednesday

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fueledbysano · 1 year

Text

𝟎𝟏𝟐 | Don't Let Me Go

summary: while in the middle of a deeply personal mission in her hometown, [ Y / N ] recalls the night of her runaway. Mikey unknowingly initiates a big deal in their relationship. Takemichi encourages Moein to meet the two.

content/warnings: this story contains major Tokyo Revengers manga spoilers, canon divergence setting, tenjiku arc setting, comfort, fluff, angst, detailed writing of violence, weapons, blood, death, and strong language.

wc: 3k

a/n: so i just discovered a manga called nine peaks and it has the same idea to the plot of this story!

series masterlist | previous | next

“What did I do?” [ Y / N ] spoke, establishing an annoyed tone.

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to chat.” Izana answered.

“What could we possibly chat about?” She pointed out.

“She doesn’t remember, doesn’t she?” Izana turned to his right-man.

“I don’t think so.” Kakucho answered.

“[ Y / N ] [ L / N ]. 17, born in Yokohama, left at a fire station and tossed around four foster homes. Went by the names; [ Y / N ] Mikami, [ Y / N ] Kaji, [ Y / N ] Ando, and then back to [ Y / N ] [ L / N ].” Izana paced in circles, unraveling the girl's past right before her and his men.

[ Y / N ] was flabbergasted, to say at least. Having heard those words from a man that she's only heard of, and only met today. “Who told you that?” She flatly spoke.

“I can also go on with your real parents, but I only have your father’s file here.” Izana replied, holding up a brown envelope similar to the one in her car.

“Where did you get that?” She folded, failing to conceal the confusion in her voice.

“Here’s your dinner, [ Y / N ].” The same stale bread and bland soup was served in front of [ Y / N ], just like a thousand times before. Being thirteen years old in an orphanage was quite a rare case, considering that kids are typically adopted before hitting adolescence.

[ Y / N ] has, though. Not once, but three times; by different families. However, she still felt foreign in any home she stayed in, not as different from the orphanage, urging her to transfer with every return.

This was something that no teenager dreamt of. Today, she decided to break the cycle and live on her own, if no one would take her in.

[ Y / N ] had no choice but to take the food for one last time, knowing that it will be a long night ahead of her.

She shortly followed her roommates when she finished eating, blending in to the wave of kids as they prepared for bedtime.

“Why aren't you in your pajamas yet?" The girl on top of her bunk bed asks.

“These are my sleeping clothes.” She simply answered, slowly lifting the blankets and tuckig herself in.

Underneath it was also a duffel bag, containing her clothes, a crowbar and wire cutter which she’d earlier stole from the storage unit. After all, those are the basics of hijacking a car according to her mechanics book.

The rest of rhe kids are starting to return to the room, which indicates bedtime. [ Y / N ] immediately knew that she was now in the hardest phase of her escape plan.

In the future where she may decide to learn about her real family, she would need her personal file that’s being kept in the office. She’d tried asking for it before, but was always denied or ignored. So she took the matter in her own hands.

“Good night, kids.” The headmistress spoke before shutting the lights off.

Reaching to her pockets, [ Y / N ] proudly smiled at herself when she quietly took the keys of the admin office.

She'd snatched it from the lady just minutes ago, as she was having dinner. [ Y / N ] had never pickpocketed her whole life, and she was surprised that she pulled it off just fine.

A couple of minutes had already passed. [ Y / N ] was growing impatient but some kids may still be awake. She tossed and turned under the sheets, recalling the plan in her head over and over as time passed.

Gray cabinet. Low drawer.

“Hello?” When [ Y / N ] was sure that the her roommates were asleep, she quietly snuck to the door and into the hallway.

Normally, an eerie-looking dark hallway would scare her. But she was too focused to the office ahead and she was determined that she can pull this off.

Upon unlocking the office, she headed straight to the file cabinet which contained her file, based on her observations. “Yes!” Upon seeing her name, she retrieved it from the drawer, not bothering to close it back or lock the door on the way out.

Some kids were already asleep when [ Y / N ] took her duffel bag in one go. She jumped through the window, and over the fence, heading to the driveway where the social worker’s sedan was parked.

She jammed the crowbar onto the window and jimmied the lock, moving it in left-to-right motions, just like her book stated.

Under the steering wheel were the bundle of wires she pulled on, not seeing the wire she was supposed to pull, due to the dim lights.

“I’m so screwed.” She chanted, almost out of breath as she attempted to look for the wires that connected to the engine. Reaching for her bag, she scanned through the pages and looked for the information, using it as some sort of manual.

“There you go.” She snipped the orange wire, ready to hotwire it, just like in the shows. However, she started to realize that this will be her first time driving. Luckily, it’s an automatic vehicle. She’s read about it and watched shows, but never really put it to practice.

“Is that [ Y / N ]?” Her nerves chilled when she heard her name from a distance, realizing that the lights to her dorm room were open, and one kid was looking through the window.

“Oh no.” She slammed the wires faster as the engine sputtered, giving one last spark before it finally started.

“No turning back.” She reminded herself before putting a seatbelt on and then shifting to drive.

She didn’t anticipate the sudden movement when she stepped on the gas and went, bumping into another car on the way. The SUV alarmed the street, which brought [ Y / N ] to a sense of urgency.

Luckily, the orphanage was in a suburban area which didn’t have lots of turns, giving her the chance to just simply… drive. Upon reaching a fairly far distance, the rush had already started to die down, and [ Y / N ] felt like she’d just escaped a prison. She chuckled to herself, taking in that she actually pulled it off.

The chuckling turned into a whole laugh, until she was fully cackling and driving at high speed.

It’s only a matter of time before someone realizes that a kid is driving, so she has to find a stopover soon.

However, at this time, most places were already closed and dark. [ Y / N ] could already see the city lights and the highway with bustling cars. She didn’t have the courage to drive on it yet, but she had nowhere to go at this point.

Pulling over at a convenience store, [ Y / N ] took her bag and untangled the ignition wires which brought the car to a stop.

Reaching for her pockets, She realized that her money wasn't enough to buy even a bottle of water. Leaning against the hood and out of breath, [ Y / N ] took a big sigh and calmed her nerves. Running away was her grand plan and she pulled it off. She was actually on her own now.

[ Y / N ] didn’t hear the store bell chiming and the quick footsteps receding until a guard showed up and yelled, “Damn brats! Give it back here!”

She looked up to see two kids in the distance, running off with their clothes stuffed.

“Hey, you with those two?” She flinched when the guard walked up to her.

“No sir, I just got here.” She stood up straight.

“What kind of scam are you pulling, huh? Where are your parents? I’ll get you picked up right no—” Although she wasn’t guilty of stealing from the store, the thought of being sent back to the orphanage frightened [ Y / N ]. So with a big swing, she hit her bag at the guard and followed the direction where the two kids were running off to.

“Hey, wait up!” She tried to call, but they only ran faster. She noticed that one kid had white hair, while the other had black before they disappeared after turning right.

When she followed, [ Y / N ] was met by an abandoned nursing home. The front was blocked with metal scraps and caution signs, which she ignored and decided to jump and climb through.

In the distance was a stairway leading underground, where footsteps were heard and she followed.

Upon reaching the floor, [ Y / N ] yelped when she saw the two boys standing in the middle of the room with stolen chips, drinks, and noodle cups from the store.

“Okay, I think we lost them both.” The black haired kid spoke.

“You think?” The tan-skinned kid says upon seeing [ Y / N ] on the stairs, who was in silence.

“So, what’s your story?’ He asked.

“Where are your parents?” The other one spoke.

“Don’t have ‘em.” [ Y / N ] simply answered, holding onto the railings as she headed soon and observed the place.

“I think you should stay here, be a part of our gang.” She grew confused once the older kid spoke.

“She— what? This has not been discussed.” the other one said.

“It is now. We could use a girl to look innocent and as a distraction.” He explained, while [ Y / N ] listened to their conversation. Soon enough, she realized what he may be talking about.

“I… want to be an F1 driver. Not a thief.” She spoke out.

“You don’t have many options. It’s just us.” The white-haired kid pointed out.

“I’m Kakucho, this is Izana.” The other one introduced themselves.

He was right. She was a fugitive now. Maybe staying with other stray kids is her safest option for now. However, nothing beyond the escape was in her anticipation. She was anxious about living out in a sketchy place with basically nothing.

To say that she was speechless is an understatement. All the feelings from her body seemed to have drained up along with the rush, leaving her staring into the ground; no home, no friends, her life is basically to be rebuilt.

“Is she crying?” Kakucho asks as they observe the girl.

“She’s got no parents. We both remember what that’s like.” Izana says.

“Where can I leave my coat?” [ Y / N ] finally spoke, still not breaking her gaze.

“You can keep your clothes over there.” Izana gestured to an empty cabinet.

“I have to take my other stuff from the car.” [ Y / N ] spoke, remembering about her file.

“Be careful,okay? Dinner will be ready when you’re back!” Kakucho says, taking the food in his arms.

“Took you so long?” Izana asks, pouring a bag of potato chips over the hot noodles.

“He thought you chickened out and bailed.” He laughed, gesturing at Kakucho.

“No, I got us more food.” [ Y / N ] chuckled, ,showing them a take-out bag.

“Stir fry?! Amazing!” Kakucho exclaimed upon recognizing the logo on the bag.

“How did you get this?” Izana asks as she sets the food down. [ Y / N ] remained silent, placing her file on the makeshift table.

“I have my ways.” She put it simply— pickpocketed a middle-class man and bought take out with the money. Izana knew right away what she meant. Maybe, the two of them were meant to meet her and have her join their little team. And she seemed tough, too. With a smile, he slung an arm over her shoulder, “Welcome to our kingdom!” He chuckled before proceeding to feast on their dinner.

After a while, it was the middle of the night when [ Y / N ] decided to shower in the only bathroom that still worked. “I apologize if the water in there was slow.” Izana spoke upon seeing her return to the makeshift common room.

“No worries. I’ve been to worse ones.” [ Y / N ] admitted, watching him pick up a run-down guitar while Kakucho started to make himself comfortable on the futon.

“I play this acoustic guitar before we sleep because it helps Kaku, I hope you don’t mind. And, I’m still learning.” Izana explained.

“Of course. This is your home, after all.” She nodded, letting the boy strum off-key chords and strings.

“Our home now.” Izana corrected, flashing her a kind smile.

Three A.M. and both boys were fast asleep, while [ Y / N ] still laid awake. Izana and Kakucho seemed to be nice kids who were put into this circumstance with only having each other as family. However, Living in an abandoned nursing home with two other orphans wasn’t something she anticipated at all.

While they were kind, and seemed to be safe in the place, [ Y / N ] is still in Yokohama— the exact city she was running away from.

While staying with Izana and Kakucho may seem the safest option, she wasn’t sure of how things would turn out in the long run. Although risky, living on her own is in her best interests.

And that night, [ Y / N ] quietly walked past the sleeping Izana and Kakucho, navigating herself through the candle-lit room as she gathered her stuff to leave.

Reaching to her pockets, she left the spare change on their makeshift dinner table, making sure to take the envelope that contained her file.

But what she didn’t notice is one important document slipping out of it, left out in the dark as [ Y / N ] quietly left, careful not to wake the sleeping boys.

“You seem… different.” Was the only words she could say upon looking back at the memory. The day she ran away was simply to put it, full of emotions. Some experiences that didn’t turn out the way we expected tend to be concealed with different memories— something vague and not so memorable.

Hence, not remembering their meeting until Izana and Kakucho mentioned it.

“Right. The fuck happened to me?” Izana chuckled. [ Y / N ] silently agreed. The young Izana she met at the abandoned nursing home seemed to be far from who he turned out to be.

“I guess you’re really pushing to your F1 racer dream, huh?” He mentioned.

“Look, I’m sorry I left. I just can't stand staying here any longer.” She explained.

“I know. I think it’s the perfect time to return this to you.” Izana spoke, holding out a brown envelope. “You left it behind.”

“What do you want?” She spat.

“Like I said, I just wanted to return what’s yours. Don’t you want to meet your father?” He asks, displaying the document in front of her.

So that’s where it ended up, [ Y / N ] had always assumed that it had been left somewhere, thrown away, or simply stolen. She also figured that as long as she still had her mother’s information, it wouldn’t be difficult to know her father.

Yet, she knows nothing about the circumstances she was born into. Simply obtaining her father’s file would save her from all the confrontations that may arise.

But knowing the men who ran gangs and being friends with some, she knew that this information wouldn’t just be given back to her for free.. They surely want something from her in return. Not to mention the fact that Tenjiku and Toman are not on good terms at the moment.

“Is that all? Can I go now?” She answered, making up a decision to refuse the offer.

With a sigh, Izana nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “What a pity,” He says, stepping in front of [ Y / N ], practically towering her figure. “Everything could’ve turned out so differently if you stayed.” He pointed out.

“See her outside boys.” Izana demanded, which Rindou and Ran immediately obeyed. The Haitanis escorted [ Y / N ] out of the hideout and back into her car, remaining silent as they could feel the tension practically surrounding [ Y / N ]’s aura.

It was until [ Y / N ] reached for the car door when Ran spoke up, “He takes ‘no’ for an answer. Just take it.” He says while Rindou handed her the envelope she just declined.

The midday skies take on a pink-amethyst hue. The darkness brought a crown of moonlight, smiling upward at the morning heavens and dimming up the busy city. Mikey opened the garage door upon hearing the blaring engine of [ Y / N ]’s car. He trotted to the driver’s side, his locks weaving before opening it to reveal a flustered [ Y / N ].

“Hey…” He asks, eyes searching hers to try and get her to talk. “Come here.” He immediately ushered her out of the car and back to the working shed, carrying the parts she bought from her run.

“What took you so long?” Mikey asks, as if he hadn’t already figured out her whereabouts.

“I feel really stupid, but uh… I couldn’t find the parts I’m looking for.” She explained and headed to Mikey’s motor parts, sparing a soft smile to him. She knew her lie would eventually backfire, knowing well that Mikey is not a stupid person.

Of course, she plans to tell everything one day when things are settled. But, now’s just not exactly divine timing.

“You gotta go all the way to Yokohama? Really?” He finally muttered. Mikey mentally scolded himself from the sudden word spill, unsure of how [ Y / N ] will react to his speculations. Now [ Y / N ] was truly confused. She froze on the spot and her mind was cornered. There was no point in denying.

“Hey, were you following me?” She turns to him with a scoff.

“I don’t need to. Why are you always sneaking off there? Huh?” Mikey questioned, crossing his arms and giving her a confrontational look.

“No, can we circle back to the fact that you are stalking me?!” She asks once more, realizing that the trips to her hometown were not as low-key as she thought.

With a sigh, Mikey put away the wrench and stepped closer to the girl. “[ Y / N ], You’re in the enemy’s territory.” He pointed out, as if she hadn’t already known. [ Y / N ], of course, kept it in mind during her last visits. She just didn’t think that she was relevant enough to be targeted by the Tenjiku executives. Hell, she wasn’t even a member of Toman in the first place.

Yet, she was taken into their hideout into a serious talk, but mentioned nothing about the ongoing fight at all. Something about the whole interaction was just… off.

Maybe, they do see her as an important figure to Toman now, especially to their president.

“And you’re my girlfriend, I’m allowed to worry about you!” She looked up and over just in time to see Mikey’s expression. His words rang through her like a bell, a particular word reverberating through her mind.

There was no denying that the feelings were present. Although nothing was formally agreed upon, it just registered to Mikey that he just called her his girlfriend for the very first time.

“I am?” She asks abruptly, her eyes as wide as the boy who just confessed.

“Uh…” The fluster in Mikey’s voice was enough to make [ Y / N ] realize how awkward the situation has shifted to.

“Well…” [ Y / N ]’s body immediately tensed as his response finally reached her. Maybe he wasn’t sure either? Was it something he said out of a “spur of the moment”?

Before either of them could speak, their heads turned to the garage door where insistent knocking could be heard from the other side.

“Hey, it’s evening. Don’t knock so barbarically.” [ Y / N ] scolded as they both made their way towards the heavy doors, lifting it at the same time.

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” Takemichi asks as the two appear.

“Yeah.” [ Y / N ] and Mikey answered in unison.

“Mikey-kun, Mucho is Toman’s traitor! He took Koko with Tenjiku.” Takemichi immediately blurted. Mikey listened to the urgency in his voice, and noticed his and Inui’s bruised faces, indicating that they were attacked and brought into this moment.

In a distance, just behind Inui, Mikey sees an unfamiliar girl who stood by Inui’s motorcycle.

“Get everyone. We’ll have a meeting.” He demanded.

“Yes.” The two nodded.

“Mikey-kun, can we talk?” Inupi chimed.

“Wait at the shrine. I’ll get my uniform real quick.” Mikey replied and searched for his motorcycle keys while Inui headed off to his own ride.

“Hey, uh, I just washed the one you left here last time… it’s in my dresser.” [ Y / N ] pointed at the door to her room. “Oh, thanks.” He scurried past her and into the room to get changed.

[ Y / N ] remained in place as the door shut, recalling the exact flow of their conversation.

Girlfriend. Dating exclusively? A relationship? Had she been a girlfriend to him all this time?

While deep into thought, Takemichi gestured Morin to come closer while he approached a static [ Y / N ]. “Uh, [ Y / N ]-chan, I have—”

“Mikey just called me his ‘girlfriend’!” She suddenly blurted, yet keeping a toned down voice, keeping in mind that the boy was just in the next room. “I mean, we’ve never really talked about it! It feels like we are, but, like I said, we never really made anything official so I don’t think much— but— Do we seem like boyfriend-girlfriend to you guys?” She rambled, toying with the zipper of her racer jacket.

In the distance, Morin now observed in confusion. [ Y / N ] seemed to be tense, looking as if she was scolding the blonde. “Man, what are you doing?” She whispered to herself.

Takemichi was puzzled, to say the least, thinking that [ Y / N ] and Mikey had been long boyfriend-girlfriend to each other. “Well…” The words were just at the tip of his tongue before [ Y / N ] rambled again.

“How did you handle it with Hina? Did you ask her with flowers and all that cheesy shit? Did you talk or something? Or it just happened?” She asked. He scratched his head, “Not really flowers, but—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what were you saying earlier? You have what?” [ Y / N ] suddenly remembered and felt rude, shaking her head.

“Let’s wait for Mikey-kun.” Takemichi sighed. “Right.” She nodded in response. “Holy shit Mucho took Koko with them?!” [ Y / N ] exclaimed.

“Pretty much. He set me up too. If it wasn’t for Koko… Me and Inupi will be in bad shape right now.” He explained. “Holy shit.” [ Y / N ] shook her head.

Shortly, their heads both turn to the door once Mikey is finished, “Okay, let’s go.” He gestured. Takemichi followed shortly while [ Y / N ] stayed close to the Toman president.

“Come here.” Morin was too dazed to hear Takemichi’s cue; looking at [ Y / N ] smoothen the wrinkles on Mikey’s shirt while he looked down at her with pure adoration, as if they weren’t just throwing words at each other earlier. A single glance at them would leave no questions if they were in fact— smitten for each other.

She felt a sudden sense of nostalgia; remembering how [ Y / N ] would tell her stories about how much she loved Mikey. It’s unbelievable how she could see it with her own eyes, even without them speaking a single word.

“Uh, guys?” Takemichi spoke, all their heads turning to him.

“Yeah?” Mikey and [ Y / N ] ask in unison.

“Meet Morin.” He gestured towards the dirty-blonde-haired girl.

“...Hi.” She paused for a moment, before remembering to politely bow.

“She’s uh… my cousin.” Takemichi instilled, insisting to carry on with the “cousin” lie.

“What’s up…” [ Y / N ] nodded politely.

Upon seeing the unknown girl up close, Mikey was jumbled, to say the least, as if his brain was being fogged from a picture. “Did you have Dojo classes with my grandpa?” He questioned.

“No, I don’t think so.” Morin shook her head, finding the response rather odd.

“Huh. You looked like one of the kids there.” He casually spoke, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he headed to his motorcycle. He thought that she looks almost like Emma, but also doesn't. He could not pin it, but he could also see a bit of someone else in her features.

“Huh…” Morin simply nodded.

“I’ll see you later.” Mikey turned to [ Y / N ]. She returned a small wave and a smile, watching the two boys get on the motorcycle and coming out of sight.

[ Y / N ] stayed silent for a moment until the notable engine sounds were gone too. “So…” She slowly turned her head to Morin.

It’s rather odd, considering she’s never told anyone when she was just thinking of it the other day. She’s never met a person who had the name in mind, yet, one actually came up today.

“What did he say your name was again?” [ Y / N ] questioned, ensuring if she heard it right and clear.

tag list [ open ]: @haimyvu @rizakari @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @mitsurisupremacy @moontofu @psmslove @slutaholic69 @im-like-yeah-hes-fine @keomi-kimo @springtimewolf1995 @bebesanzu @imshittingforyelena @dailyakira @idunnomynamesince2005 @juanaisdead @emilymikado @haruu-i @keisaint @misinfe @fxshigurosbae @xxserenitysnow666xx @emyrl @xngelsau @melody005 @daichisbabymama @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @r-xochitl @sleezy-axeriix @pandabooster @amerillyss @tellynojelly @kenkenmaaa @astrodiamond @ikilledsparky2 @soushswag @eriskaitto @secretanimesimp

dm me if you changed urls or i misspelled

#tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #mikey #manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #mikey imagines #mikey x you #manjiro sano x you

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 1 year

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Villain AU - Deadlock, Part 2

Part 1 ||

I'm trying not to linger for too long with the chapters. I know where I want to head with this, and doing too much exposition might branch me into other sub-plots and I don't have the energy for thaaaaat.

So far I'm having fun with this AU :]

Quick note that this AU is set years after the events of the two movies. Characters are mid 20's to early 30's.

Also, goddamn, never thought I'd be researching things about collecting evidence and its naming convention for a court case 😂 writing does indeed make me learn a bunch of stuff~

The card was safe. All scans indicated that no trackers were attached, to which Donnie couldn't help laughing at, in a sense. What a lost opportunity. Yet again, maybe that woman had no need to track anyone .... for the moment.

It was with a long sigh that Donatello finally sat at his desk, staring at anywhere his eyes would fall. Leo had chewed him up a little after this failure of a mission. How could he have predicted this, anyway? It's not as if they're to expect random people at every missions they go out to! Donnie pinched in-between his eyes, right under his glasses, trying to clear his thoughts. He next nonchalantly got the woman's card out of his pocket, taking a moment to look over the drawing once again. What a clown, he thought.

Leaving it on his desk, he next lunged towards a toolbox nearby, retrieving an utility knife. Then hunching over the small piece, he proceeded to careful cut around the felt chip inside. Getting the prize out of its prison, Donnie then went for a USB key into which he could insert the hardware into a designed slot. He paused before plugging the device into his computer, opting first to open a secured session - to avoid any infiltraton nor leaks.

Plugging the USB key, he didn't have to wait long before a file opened, revealing two documents. The first one contained code, which he knew must have been what was used to confuse his tracking. The other was a single textfile:

Congratulations! To anyone reading this, you're not a complete idiot :) If I took anything from you, I am not sorry. Learn to keep your information under better security, you fucking scrub. If you found this randomly, or you're a fan of my work, consider paying me for my good broker's work. Follow the white rabbit and you'll find your way ;) With love, smooth_criminal

"Follow the white rabbit?" pondered Donnie to himself.

Opening back the code file, he started to search for keywords. "Smooth_criminal" found several instances, hinting that it was her username, or rather administrator name, on her computer. Curious, he then searched for "white rabbit". There were indeed some instances, and starting from the top always had the text followed by a "go lower" mention. Donnie couldn't help the light smirk on his lips. She was clearly referencing Alice in Wonderland, following the rabbit down its hole. The last mention was found next to a website address, one Donnie had already seen before. It was one of those sketchy places on the dark web that often dealt in information brokering, doxxing, questionable freelance contracts, you name it! Personally he was not a fan, but it did prove an interesting starting point whenever he needed to start his searches somewhere.

Knowing he'd have some ways to go before finding any of her traces, he paused his work and instead went to prepare some coffee. I'll sleep when I'm dead.

***

Unsurprisingly enough, Donnie did find a user by the name of "smooth_criminal". How original.

Was it her, though? There was always a possibility that she could have set breadcrumbs towards a dummy account, or simply some random person on that website. But now knowing that she was an information broker, if she were to build herself a brand, she simply couldn't lead any potential clients away.

Retrieving an account Donatello had created ages ago, he first poked around the forums to first get a grasp of how she was operating around. Well-versed in internet speak, yet remaining professional, the woman appeared to always wanting to get straight to the point. Time was money, and if she had to poke often in order to get simple information, she was quick to dismiss anybody.

Many users were leaving good reviews about her work; impartial and efficient were the major key words. She didn't give a fuck about your background or what you were doing with the information. In the end it was only a job waiting to be done.

Who wanted the Foot investors' list then, wondered Donnie as he opened a window to send her a direct message. He had to make sure it was really her.

HookedOnCoffee: What are your prices?

He sat back in his chair, patiently looking at the screen. It surprisingly didn't take long to spot the usual three dots in the chat, indicating that she was typing.

smooth_criminal: Depends on the type of information you want and the equipment I have to use. Can range from 700 to 1K+. What's your need?

Goddamn. Donnie was quick to open his bank account information (something he always kept hidden from his brothers, but definitely not from his father). It's been a while since he last did some freelance work, so his funds were starting to get low, but he could still afford something - relunctantly. Yet he also wanted to test her skills...

HookedOnCoffee: I need you to retrieve lost information about Sacks Group Ltd. smooth_criminal: You realize that company was disbanded years ago with the arrestation of Eric Sacks, yes?

Donnie smirked. He already knew where to get the information.

HookedOnCoffee: Are you comfortable with reaching into police classified documentation? They have digital records that may prove difficult to access... Only if you feel up to the challenge.

He felt like a smartass - and he liked it.

smooth_criminal: Just 'cause you're assuming I'd be a coward about it, I'll charge you 2K. Half of it before, second half when I have the info. You want it when?

Now Donatello wasn't smiling anymore... He glanced at his finances another time, sighing. He'd definitely need to refill his account after this. Welp, no sleep for me in the upcoming weeks.

HookedOnCoffee: The sooner, the better. Start tomorrow night. The information is at the Police Department at 1 Police Plaza Path, Lower Manhattan. Near the City Hall.

smooth_criminal: Send me the money and you got yourself a deal.

"A deal I could've done myself," mumbled the terrapin, sourly giving away the first part of the sum.

***

Of course it had to rain on that night. The end of winter and early signs of spring always brought this weird shift in the weather that always froze Donnie straight to his bones. Perched on a tall building near the given spot, he lowered his googles onto his glasses, shifting the lenses for a night vision. He knew the best point of entrance would be by the building's roof, especially through the large vent openings. Would the woman need to make her way to the actual hardware, or could she hack herself from a distance? The terrapin couldn't help feeling curious about her course of action - as outlawed it may be.

He spotted a form making its way on top of the police's building. Was that a grappling hook? He was starting to get a little impressed...

It indeed looked like the woman he saw back at that Foot stronghold, recognizing parts of her gear and those flashing green googles.

"Gotcha," smiled the turtle to himself, noticing her get into a vent.

He sprung to action, calculating his jump and fall to land straight onto the police building. Setting up a remote tracker into the vent she went into, he opted for another entry point - one he knew would converge with hers at some point.

One advantage of being the slimmest out of his brothers was that he could easily make his way through the tunnels. His weight was still a concern, mostly due to his techm but Donnie felt no rush to make his way completely to the woman, prefering to get a screen out and take control of the remote tracker he sent. He wouldn't lie about the fact that he did prepare for this coup. He already had a layout of the vents and knew where the information was stored. Did that smooth criminal do the same? Donnie stopped his tracker around a corner, soon getting a view of the woman now looking down through a grid. She first got a device out of one of her bags, turning it on and slightly slapping its side with a grunt. The antenna on it brought Donatello to guess that it might be a sort of camera jammer. Tapping some instructions in, the woman switched her device for a sort of screwdriver, then taking care of the grid. She first started diagonally, then holding a loose part of the grid and unscrewing the remaining corners. It allowed her to hold the grid and attach it to her grappling hook, then gently lowering it into the room below.

She graciously made her way down, Donnie's tracker following suit as careful as he could. The next room was filled with computer towers and only two screens in one corner. The terrapin smirked when he got a look through his screen. Of course there wasn't going to be a server to tap into for easy access. Which computer had the right information? That could take hours to find out...

The intruder appeared defeated for moment, patiently making her way around the room and trying to find any potential revelation as to which information was stored where. She brought her left wrist up, a hologram screen appearing and she was then scrolling through different windows and texts. Tapping to the side of her facemask, she then proceeded to launch a call, to Donnie's great confusion. As soon as it picked up, the other end of the line announcing itself to be NYPD's bureau of investigations, the woman started to talk, but her voice was now mimicking another.

"Chief Rebecca Vincent speaking," said the woman - and her tone was indeed modified to resemble Vincent's. "There is a request pending for disclosing evidence of the Sacks Group Ltd case. I have a team that must access their digital files for a classified investigation."

"We can have the hardware delivered to any desired precinct-"

"The team will be going directly to the department in order to avoid unecessary dispatch of the evidence. I only need the serial number of the machine on which the information is stored, and my investigators will reach into it first thing tomorrow morning."

"Appendix FAP.SGL-14-TRN-1318.LAN"

"Thank you, that is all."

The call ended, leaving Donnie slightly impressed. Not bad... not bad at all! If she had been smarter, she would've researched the court case and found that information beforehand - but his request of acquiring the evidence in the briefest delays might have pushed her to accelerate her processes.

The criminal was next on the move, easily finding the labeled computer and whipping out an external drive to plug it into. Tapping onto the devices with her left wrist's hologram, she completed the transfer in no time.

"Easy peasy," came out the woman's voice in its flanged tone, disconnecting her device.

She got one of her calling cards out, placing it on the computer tower before turning heels and proceeding to climb back up the vent and seal it shut. What a goddamn fool, thought Donnie, already moving his tracking device towards the card. You don't leave evidence after such a flawless performance... Collecting it, the mutant then steered the tracker through a hole in the grid, after making sure that the woman was no longer in sight. He finally got on the move as well, ordering his device to track back to him automatically. If he was quick enough, maybe he'd get to see where the other would head next. The downpour was hitting harder now, instantly souring Donnie's mood. Collecting his tracker and the card, he didn't wait to scan the perimeters, hoping to catch any traces of the human. The rain was making it harder to catch anything, his sensors mostly picking activity from nearby cars and some daring pedestrians out in this weather. Unwillingly forfeiting, the terrapin shook some water off before deciding to head back to the Lair...

***

The first thing Vee needed was a hot shower.

As she got into her small apartment, she instantly dropped her gear onto the nearest table, then stripping down and throwing her soaked clothes into a corner.

Standing beneath the hot stream, she closed her eyes, letting any and all stress wash down the drain. Her mind did wander back to the information she was tasked to gather. Usually her clients would request data that was fresh or of a high value ... so for her to collect documents from Eric Sacks' company seemed to be completely out of the blue.

Curiosity killed the cat. Stepping out of the shower and quickly putting out panties and a large hoodie, she grabbed the external drive and plugged it into her computer. Her initial search through the files mostly revealed budgets, employee files, so on and so forth. But her eyes did catch something about the project 'Renaissance', the simple mention of turtle subjects grabbing her interest.

Her thoughts brought her back to that night at the Foot's stronghold. She truly did wonder if she would ever see one of them again, although it might not be in her best interests. Maybe her commissioner wanted information as well regarding those mutants? With a shrug, Vee first copied the documents to herself, then zipping the rest for her client.

Logging onto the usual website, she first pinged her investor:

smooth_criminal: Here is a shot of the file, showing you that I have it. Send me the rest of the decided price and I will send it your way right away.

She couldn't help yawning, hoping her client wouldn't answer late so she could go to sleep next... After what felt like an eternity (frankly, it was more like 5 minutes), she saw the usual three dots pop up in the conversation.

HookedOnCoffee: I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle for you.

And with that, they sent the rest of the money, Vee already accepting and then starting the transfer.

smooth_criminal: I do not disclose any details of the operation. You have your information, that's what matters. HookedOnCoffee: Aight. Business is business, I get it.

Vee did lightly fiddle her fingers above her keyboard, debating if it was a good idea to poke about the data...

smooth_criminal: ... I'm curious though, why Sacks? Forgive my intrusion, but that company was mostly dealing in the medical sphere. The only interesting document I can think of would be in regards to the project Renaissance.

She hoped she wasn't shooting herself in the foot. Vee usually wanted to avoid digging into her client's affairs, but with her recent meeting with the turtles, she only wanted to connect some dots. The other's answer took some time before being delivered.

HookedOnCoffee: Some components of that project need to be revisited for personal matter. I will only leave it at that.

Fair. Vee kept a mental note to dig more into the files. Maybe there was indeed something in there that could be worth selling for...

***

Donnie could't have wished for a more ideal situation. Getting that file transfer from her gave the terrapin all the information he needed in order to tap into her system, plus the discreet session hijack he could launch alongside the last money payment. He didn't want to log into her hardware right away, fearing that it would raise an instant suspicion on the woman's part. Instead he prefered to be entertained by her random inquiry about project Renaissance. Aren't you supposed to be impartial or something?

He didn't really need the information - in fact he already had most of the files thanks to April and the police department. There wasn't much to be found in those documents, except the mention of the green ooze that was classified as alien. Most, if not all of it had been lost in the lab fire, which resulted in the substance never being really studied other than the initial tests. There were traces in his family's blood and it could be tested ... but they did really need to?

Donatello saved the woman's system information with a satisfied tap on his keyboard. As he leaned back into his chair with a relieved sigh, Raphael was walking nearby the workstation, having just finished a training session.

"What's up, nerd?" asked the red banded one.

"Oh I just love when things go according to plan," smiled the bespectacled mutant.

He vaguely gestured his screen, looking over at his brother with a smug expression.

"Remember that woman that stole the information from that Foot stronghold?"

"... I mean, I didn't see her, but yes."

"I've tracked her and I might be able to hack into her system."

Raph was now intrigued, coming closer and soon a smirk creeping on his features.

"Can you get a view from her webcam? Is she hot?"

"I, uh-"

That's right, he could see how she looked like! But was it wise to risk it now?...

"If she's smart, she either doesn't have a cam, or the view is blocked when not in use."

"Ay, come on, let's try anyway," nudged the large terrapin.

Here goes nothing... Using the ID he gathered, he was able to bypass firewalls by disgusing his connection as a simple operating system check. Entering some commands on his side, he soon had a list of accessible devices; one being indeed a webcam. He glanced at Raph before hovering and clicking the option with his cursor.

"If she notices and blocks my connection, you're a dead man."

"Good luck trying to beat me, twig."

With a double-click, a new window popped onto the screen, first giving out a black screen. After a quick loading, a video feed now appeared, allowing the two turtles to witness a view into the woman's apartment; and her form as well. She was up and about, collecting some of her gear she had scattered on her arrival.

"Bro, is she only wearin' a hoodie?" started Raph.

Donnie pointed at the screen when the woman bent forward.

"She has panties on."

Both brothers looked at eachother, smirking.

"Nice," they said in unison.

Looking back at the screen, Donatello took notes of her appearance. Colored hair, glasses, some visible tattoos on her legs and one at the top of her right hand. He knew she also had one on her chest, but did she have more? She wasn't bad looking - in fact he'd be a liar to say she was anything else but pretty. Her apartment appeared small, but quite enough for her needs. Various tech and scraps were laying around, the woman obviously working on some new gadgets of her own.

"Watchu gonna do now that you found her?" questionned the red clad mutant.

Donnie's finger tapped on his desk, pondering the question himself.

"... I'm quite not sure, to be honest. My first instinct would be to retrieve the information she took from us, but at the same time I want to know more about her. She seems quite capable with technology, and from what I've found she's also a competent information broker. ... I'm worried she's using all that talent for the wrong reasons."

"Ya think she could become an asset for the team?"

The purple clad mutant's gaze remained on the woman on screen, weighing what his brother said.

"... High risk, high reward. She could be useful, but there could be a potential danger that she'd out us out to anyone offering a large amount of money."

"Not if you intimidate her out of the idea," shrugged Raph.

Donnie frowned: "I won't do that!"

"I will then."

"No, just- Stop! Let me think over this."

Still frowning, he continued to look over at the woman, the gears of his mind turning. Frankly, he wanted to meet her again.

***

Living a normal life always paled so much compared to the thrills of seeking out information around the city. Her day job was more of an alibi. Getting employeed at a coffee shop that was opened 24/7 only offerred the greatest opportunity to alter a payroll and, bam!, yes I was working on that night.

Sighing as she closed the entrance door behind her, Vee's steps lingered out of fatigue, first making her way towards the small kitchen and grab a glass of water. She had been sollicited a lot lately from various contractors, offerring her very little to no sleep over the last few days.

As she walked past her computer, she halted after a few steps - and mid-drink - and frowned as she looked over her screens. Is she really that tired? Is the mouse cursor moving on its own??

She watched for some minutes as she saw windows getting opened and closed, all on their own. Annoyed, she took a seat and forcefully grabbed the control back on the cursor. Opening a notepad document, she instantly wrote:

Hello??? Who the fuck do you think you are???

Some lines were skipped, a simple word being added:

Hi :)

"Esti d'criss," she swore in French before rushing out of her seat.

She made a beeline to her router, knocking stuff over in her hurry. First unplugging the box, she looked back over her screen like a deer facing headlights, almost expecting an entity to jump out of there for some reason...

Finally walking back to her desk, she first saw that the internet connection had successfully been cut. When glancing back at the previously opened notepad, she saw another line written:

Don't worry, I just wanted to know more about you. I got what I needed. We'll meet one day.

That sent a shiver down Vee's spine - not the good kind. She tried to go over the list of people she last dealt with. Did she provoke anyone without really wanting to? Or maybe it was a weirdo that was too enamored with her work? Freaked out for the evening, Vee decided to turn off her machine, prefering to focus on anything else.

((Part 3))

#it's-a-moi #villain au #usual sorry for any mistakes #lol 'haha I'm gonna write small chapters'#and here I go writing this freakin' long ass thing #I mean - I've written longer #but for this story I shouldn't be going that hard lol #Oh well ... at least I'm having fun - so that's what counts #next chapter is going to be fun :>

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fragilecapric0rnn · 1 year

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HAPPY WIP WUESDAY!

back to our semi-regularly scheduled programming

Thank you Louseph @cheatghost for the tag! I feel like everyone has been tagged in this recently, so I will just say that anyone who sees this and wants to do it, consider yourself tagged by me !!!!!

Rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post.

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

WIPs: (only actively working on 2 fics rn but they are very meaty and juicy so. have at it!)

1992

A PLOT [yj timefuck fic]

T PLOT [ALSO yj timefuck fic]

1992 snippet under the cut:

About 3 beers later the group, crossed and drunk, stumble down the outdoor stairs of the apartment complex. Jonathan taking the lead, Argyle and Robin lazily ranting to each other about something, leaving Eddie and Steve lingering in the back of the group.

Eddie tugs on Steve’s shirt sleeve and mouths ‘Follow my lead. and leaving no time for him to react as he immediately starts patting down on his pockets.

“Oh fuck, I think I forgot my wallet.”

And Steve knows one of two things is going to happen if he decides to play along.

If it's the first thing that came to his mind, it'll make this night a lot more fun.

But if it's the second thing…

Jonathan tosses his keys to Eddie, the jingle of them making contact with Eddie's palm flicks the Fuck It switch on in his brain.

“I’ll go with you, I wanna put my contacts in.” As the words come out of his mouth, he feels Robin's eyes on him.

“But you hate your contacts?”

“I’d hate to fork out more money for new glasses. Again.” Steve is walking backwards, smiling at Robin’s suspicious face. She shrugs and continues whatever conversation she was having with Argyle.

They silently make their way back up the steps, curiosity crawling up Steve's chest and into his throat all the way until their almost at the front door.

“You were giving me a signal, right?” Eddie asks casually, leaving even more room for the wrong interpretation and leaving Steve with a rock the size of his fist at the base of his throat.

Steve narrows his eyes, not totally sure what he’s being asked now that it’s just the two of them. Alone.

Eddie doesn't wait for a response before letting them both back into the apartment.

#what on earth do you think they're going back up to the apartment for? 👀#sen writes #aiaof #ask game #wip wednesday #i really need the external motivation lately so it would be lovely to get some asks!!!

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touchbased · 1 year

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i have a........ decent amount of drafts to do but i am BEGGING for separation of marriage plots?? like two people who have fallen out of love and are either getting a divorce or just ending a v long relationship and maybe they have kids or maybe they don’t but it’s messy and angsty and feelings are still there but its tough and IDK I JUST WANT EM!!!

#✧･ﾟ:* filed under ⤳ out of pocket ( ooc )#✧･ﾟ:* filed under ⤳ out of pocket ( wanted plot )#the tomshiv of it all

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kazooku · 1 year

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Introducing Casey Windro, the time traveling menace!!

God Casey's been one of my favorite OCs ever since I made it back in January. I'm so glad that I can finally post about it now. It's also been kinda my punching bag lately oops. They're an MCU OC and the first of probably many. I'm also trying to figure out ways to insert Casey into other Marvel medias, but for now, they're MCU only.

Casey's whole gimmick is that they're a time traveler who can't change the past. It is a snap survivor. The snap happened when it was 10, and despite none of their family snapping they're two only friends did. Casey doesn't have the best relationship with its family, even from an early age. It's dad was constantly busy, and it's mom had an idea of what she wanted Casey to be and ignored them whenever they drifted from that idea, which was often. It's friends were their family, and that family was gone.

The 5 years that the snap lasted Casey retreated into itself. It didn't try to get close to anyone again because there was no point to it. The people they were close to disappeared into thin air, and the irrational voice in their head said it'll happen again if they did. In the middle of the snap, their great grandma died and left it her pocket watch. The watch was broken and had been broken for as long as Casey could remember, so they made it their mission to fix it.

They fixed it a month after the snap was reversed and with it unlocked time travel but with a cost. Casey could not change any major events. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't stop the snap. It acted out. Causing chaos but impossible to leave lasting damage. It got on a certain spider's radar for that reason and possibly gained a new friend.

Casey is no longer close to the friends they once considered friends. They're 5 years older now. If asked it would say the Casey they knew died and they deserve better than the shell of their old self that they are.

Casey uses it/they and is a triple A battery (Aromantic, Asexual, and Agender) and a lesbian.

Running out of text space on Instagram and added more in comments so lemme just add those here

When it stops traveling back it needs to relearn consequences. They could do whatever they wanted in the past without a real effect. Now in the present they turn reckless and self destructive forgetting that there's no undoing what happens. They're rash impulsive. It takes a few good years in therapy to get these behaviors under control.

They stop time traveling mostly after a year. It doesn't completely stop but there's larger gaps in between. The people around them who know are getting them to see the damage they're doing to themself through this.

I'm being purposely vague here on the friendship between Casey and Peter but they are close. Starting off as mutual annoyances to inseparable.

Might talk about it more in another post but Casey actually dodges the spell in NWH. They get into an argument and Casey storms off into the past. When they come back and no one remembers him they're confused as hell. It takes them 2 months to track him down and break into his apartment.

Casey is autistic adhd like me lol. Can't write an OC without that oops. Anyways it has a special interest in crow bars. It's weird, it's strange, but they love them. Their favorite is a white one with hello kitty painted on it.

I have a design and plot for a timeskip Casey. I will draw them eventually and talk more there but!! It takes place when Casey is 20 and is them getting into shit with their college friends and occasionally dragging Peter along. They are an English major btw

Working on a Spiderverse Casey variant. So far the plan is the snap is never undone and while time traveling Casey gets frustrated and tells Peter he will die and he tells them yo take over. After failing to change the past they give in and become the new Spider-Man but going by a different name.

They start getting therapy at 17

It has fangs because pre snap friend dared it to file their teeth. It did. The fangs are sensitive to temperature.

Originally posted on May 23rd on Instagram

#art #digital art #artwork #my art #oc #oc art #lesbian #non bianry #Marvel #Marvel OC #marvel original character #MCU #MCU OC #MCU Original character #marvel cinematic universe #Marvel Cinematic Universe OC #time travel

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cephalog0d · 1 year

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Batfics - "Something In Your Pocket"

Title: Something In Your Pocket

Rating: Teen and Up (language, mentioned alcohol)

Category: Gen

Characters/Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake (mentioned)

Word Count: 1,313

((This title was a joke and then A Certain Someone persuaded me to keep it so now here we are and every time I read it in my files I get this stupid song stuck in my head))

Jason might not have any idea what the hell this particular scheme was about but he had a very good idea of how involved he wanted to be in it, which was “not at all”.

Which of course meant that before he could execute his updated plan of quietly getting the fuck out of there Dick caught his gaze and his broad fake-drunk smile went bright and sharp in a look Jason recognized (with no small amount of foreboding since it had historically preceded everything from creating headlines that gave Bruce a migraine to straight up running for their lives) as Dick Grayson Getting An Idea.

Well, shit.

(Full text under the cut or over on AO3)

Things had been suspiciously quiet recently, at least relatively speaking. There hadn't been much above the normal level of Gotham Shittiness, which almost certainly meant that there was a huge shitstorm brewing on the horizon and they just hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Obviously there was plenty of Bat-themed surveillance going on at any given moment in Gotham, but sometimes a more direct approach was more useful and Jason, unlike some people, didn’t have to try very hard to blend in with the less savory side of the city. (For example, he looked older than twelve, which was helpful considering the kind of places Gotham’s criminal element liked to gather.)

So, in the interest of not being totally blindsided by whatever catastrophe was coming, he was dressed in his most nondescript civilian clothes and headed to one of the multitude of grungy bars that collected unscrupulous Gothamites like Batman collected child sidekicks, planning to grab a beer and keep an ear out for any interesting chatter. Assuming he didn’t hear about any dire and immediate plots to blow up the city or poison the water supply or unleash a swarm of genetically modified wasps, he could then go home and eat leftover Thai food, update some files, and maybe see if he could prod Tim into another angry nerd spiral by sending him terrible and extremely fake "unexplained phenomena" internet videos.

Of course, because it was his life, that fell apart basically the minute he walked into the bar he had chosen as his recon site. It was instinct to quickly scan the room, noting exits and occupants and choosing where he was going to settle in and listen. What he was not expecting was to have his gaze snag on a very familiar face in the otherwise unremarkable crowd.

Or mostly familiar.

The combination of dim lightning and some light disguise work was enough to throw off any casual observers, but it just gave Jason an unsettling uncanny valley feeling because behind the dark contacts and subtle contour-shifting makeup that was very definitely an extremely fake-drunk Dick Grayson, laughing and swaying and apparently oblivious to the carefully performative air of danger from the group of (vaguely familiar probably mob?) guys he was with.

Which was emphatically Not Jason's Problem.

In fact, it was a good reason to bail and find a different bar to lurk in. Dick was (infuriatingly) good at undercover work, and more than capable of taking care of himself, and there were decent odds he had at least one little bird on standby for backup. (Jason had a mental image of Damian trying to gain entry to the bar, either as Robin or as a civilian, which would be a hilarious disaster and he kind of wanted to see it.) Whatever operation Dick was running, he did not need anyone's help, never mind Jason's.

More importantly, Jason might not have any idea what the hell this particular scheme was about but he had a very good idea of how involved he wanted to be in it, which was “not at all”.

Well, shit.

Jason rapidly ran through options. Plan A: Leave without getting spotted, obviously already blown. Plan B: Leave anyway and risk the probability that Dick was just enough of a spiteful asshole to turn it into a big attention-grabbing scene. Plan C: Punch his dumbass brother in the face and then leave, upgrading from risk to certainty on the big attention-grabbing scene outcome. Plan D: resign himself to “yes, and”ing whatever bullshit he was about to get handed.

Dick broke away from the group and moved towards Jason, calling out what was either “Hey” or “Jay”, Jason couldn’t quite tell (although it better have been the former, because opsec, shithead). The men Dick had been with (definitely some flavor of Gotham underworld, definitely armed) had followed Dick’s attention and noticed Jason, and he had just enough time to quietly mourn Plan A’s viability and decide that at least if he played along he’d have some control over whatever narrative was happening here instead of just generating a whole lot of suspicious questions and potential unknown future problems for both of them (but more importantly him) before Dick stumbled into him.

It was a carefully calculated maneuver, Dick not actually making much contact or losing his footing while making it look like the kind of drunken stagger that would leave him one helping hand away from faceplanting on the sticky floor. Jason probably could have held his ground even against the kind of collision it looked like easily enough, but he wasn’t a highly trained vigilante at the moment, he was just Some Guy out at a bar, so he shifted with the motion as if it had actually jarred him and reached to stop Dick from completely toppling over as Dick slung an arm around his waist, ostensibly for balance.

The men Dick had just left were watching them with mixed curiosity and suspicion and Jason surreptitiously kept one eye on them while he tipped his head slightly towards Dick’s, half so he could lower his voice and half to help hide the movement of his lips in case any of them were watching that closely.

“How worried should I be about whatever the fuck you just dropped into my pocket?” he asked. There were a lot of possibilities, none of which he could confirm without giving things away but many of which would land solidly on the “very” end of the scale.

Dick mostly righted himself, although he was still fake-leaning into Jason a bit. He shot Jason a quick, stealthy wink, still grinning, which was the exact opposite of reassuring, although Jason suspected it wasn’t meant to be, because sometimes Dick really lived up to his name.

“You should come meet my friends!” he slurred, swaying hard back towards the group he had just left and trying (with a very sober amount of strength and coordination, which Jason did not appreciate) to tug Jason with him. He had mostly plastered on the same easy, drunken smile he had had before he spotted Jason, but there was still just a little bit of an edge to it, an unspoken "I dare you" that threw Jason back to when he was a lot smaller and a little less cynical and Dick was less of a (debatably) serious and responsible adult and more of a fucking menace in a terrible V-neck costume.

Jason knew better than to take the bait, of course. He had plenty of vivid memories of how that usually went (making himself sick proving how many chili dogs he could eat at once, nearly losing a finger trying to juggle batarangs, jumping on goddamn trains). But.

He was maybe (definitely) enough of a spiteful asshole himself that he didn’t want to give his brother the satisfaction of just backing down from the challenge, especially not if he could turn the tables on him. And he was a little curious about exactly what the fuck he had stumbled into. So…fuck it. Not like he had something more interesting planned for the evening, and this probably wasn’t going to get him killed.

(And if it looked like it was going that way, he already had whatever Dick had smuggled into his pocket. He could always just throw Dick at them and run.)

(Dick could handle it.)

(Probably.)

(It was all his idea, anyway.)

((This scenario definitely does not rapidly devolve into these two improvising things to try and trip each other up.

(Unfortunately for Jason, Dick is basically immune to embarrassment normally, never mind when he's pretending to be happily drunk anyway.)

The really fun part comes later when Dick has to try and get his MacGuffin back because there's no way that doesn't end in a chase and/or fight.

Please also consider:

Jason sending Tim videos like "Look, Tim, it's a UFO!"

Tim: First of all, that's just Killer Moth, and second of all, you know aliens are real, Jason, they're not unexplained.

Jason: But what about this Bigfoot video?

Tim: That's just a bear.))

#Dick Grayson is a Troll #young adult dick grayson was an absolute menace (and adult dick grayson has just gotten better at hiding it)#all batkids are powered by spite but jason is EXTRA powered by spite and therefore extra susceptible to the phrase 'i dare you'#speaking as the elder sibling of a very spiteful younger sibling you are legally obligated to take advantage of that #batbros #batkids #batfam #batboys #dick grayson #jason todd #batkids being batsibs #writing #ceph writes things

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nehswritesstuffs · 1 year

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hello!! for the fanfic writer asks, would you be interested in answering:

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

27: Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

29: Share a bit from a fic you'll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don't have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don't plan on getting to.)

you don't have to answer all of these! or you can! for any fandom! thank you!! ♥️

Hi! Oooh, those are some nice ones.

10. The Thick of UNIT! It's crossover crackfic, with a crossover crackship, that I thought was going to just be mostly me clowning on a throwaway line, but it's gotten fic written of it...? And at least one person uses an OC name as a tumblr username...? I'm shooketh. Plus I want to finish it one day, but each time I open the file I'm smacked with writer's block. (I'm also attempting a beta-reader on it, but idk when that'll be able to pan through at this point.)

13. All of it and none of it. I'm one of those assholes that can just sort of write without much planning if anything (if it's any consolation, it helped lead to shit grades in English class for composition), but sometimes I acknowledge that my memory is ADD-riddled shit so I do write some stuff down if a thing gets big enough. This reminds me that I need to continue what I sunk last summer into planning ahahahaha orz it's taunting me.

27. Nervous...? I don't know if that's the right word for it...? I mean, I've been writing fic for so long that I don't recall being specifically nervous. Maybe the closest would be Lackluster (FFN/AO3), if only because I might get judged for writing a rarepair I've literally never seen before in my life. Law and Viola? Sure, why the fck not. My that admission, Love, Loss, and Finding One's Self on the High Seas can qualify because I also do a weird rarepair in that one too for, like, half a second (Zoro/Reiju, baybee).

29. So, I've got this dynamic fic I've got a bunch of wips and one-shots and story ideas in and sometimes it's where I plop a whole-ass multichapter fic in there, and this is the beginning of one that's on the chopping block for next time I save the new document, because it's been literal years since I added to it. Six-hundred-three words of a probably Doctor Who fic under the cut.

Bill looked at the scrap of yellowed paper in her hand, the pencil used to scribble on it had long faded to a light grey. The cool breeze teased her giant poof of hair and made her jacket dance around her; country air always made her feel uneasy. In the city she could smell things on the breeze—food, cars, people, places—yet out in the country, on the lonely dirt road in front of the low stone-and-moss wall that guarded a stone-and-moss house, she smelled nothing of the sort. It was all animal poo, if there was anything, and she hated it. Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves, hoping what she smelled was not simply more poo of a viler sort. She wasn’t entirely certain about this… but then again, what could she do? Where could she go? She had run out of options—this had to be it. There wasn’t anything else that she could possibly… bloody hell. She tried to push open the gate and the lock froze on her, barring her entry. Pocketing the paper with the address, she attempted to simply hop over the wall instead, but it was too thick for her specific height to make a smooth go of it. Her legs went just a bit too far and she cringed, knowing she was going to feel that in the morning. Biscuit-tin, that’s what this place was, she decided as she finally made it over the wall. It looked like a crofter’s plot on a biscuit tin one would find in a Sainsbury near Christmas. Then again, what else did she expect going to the Middle of Glen Nowhere, in the foothills of Ben Nothing? A lot of bloody bunk. As she made her way closer to the house, a flock of brown, horned sheep came round the back of the building and began to swarm her. They didn’t try to do anything—that wasn’t it at all—but they still surrounded her and prevented the stranger from approaching the door, bleating hopefully as they greeted their visitor. It was then that the sound of a small airplane began to rumble through the air, attempting to be heard over the wind and sheep. A tiny dot in the sky high above the horizon to start, Bill watched as the plane flew closer, almost going and clipping the roof of the house when it passed overhead on its first go over the property. She watched the sheep as they all moved as one towards the plane; their field became a runway and—after the craft stopped—it was surrounded by the beasts. The engine died down and two people climbed out, one tall and lanky, the other much shorter though much more average in build. They seemed to notice her right away, as they began walking towards her, the flock following. “We’re not buying anything, I hope you know,” the shorter one said as they approached. She was a woman with brown hair, a northern English accent, and was a few years older than her; the taller one was a man with grey hair and a couple extra decades. While they were both pale, he somehow looked as though he hadn’t properly seen sun in ages, which was believable given the amount of layers he was wearing. “I’m not selling,” Bill replied. “I was just cleaning out my mother’s lockbox, and…” “I don’t see why that has anything to do with us,” the man said. Bill was hit hard by the Glasgow in his voice—shit. Oh… shit…

#meme replies #gendervapor #gendervapor14 #I got to hit a spectrum of my work in this one so yeah this was fun #open to more if someone thinks of any

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chiyoso · 11 months

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DATING FBI AGENT! SCARAMOUCHE

▶CONTENT. smut w/little plot, headcannons, scara fucks you in a public space secretly, scara is mad annoying and unprofessional lmao, slight cucking, jealous and posessive scara, scara is just downbad fr, mentions of blood, suffocating

▶NOTE. if you're reading this now, i've updated this upper part along with a bit of proofreading, and i also want to add, this was my first ever headcannon smut work! i genuinely forgot about this piece, i feel so nostalgic about it <3

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to only work hard in your presence, thus annoying your colleagues. Purposely annoying and going over to your desk with a bunch of his files, asking you to help him. His excuse? “Come on, you're better at this stuff anyways.” Complimenting your work ethic and hardwork, musing his way towards your heart with words. “...And I'll treat you to lunch for a week?” towards your stomach too apparently. “A month.” — “Sold.” He said instantly, without a shred of thought to your barter just so he can have a valid reason to be with you.

Besides, he was loaded as hell, it wasn't a problem to him.

“...You serious?” You raised a brow to him. “Yeah but you also gotra do my work too, remember?” Your eyes squint, before sighing in defeat, motioning his seat to where you were stationed. With a smirk, your colleague brings his chair next to your desk, and what did you really expect from him? He wasn't really paying attention to his own work, or your lectures about what he has to do and etcetera.

The only time he was attentive was when you were talking about anything but work, meaning he was mostly in idle throughout the little get together you two had, except the parts where he occasionally brushed hands with you whenever you reached out to something that was on his side, acting all innocent once your observations had concluded to him doing it on purpose. How unprofessional of him. (But cute really.)

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to purposely pursuade the head supervisor with money, or something that benefits the poor higher up into assigning him choose you as your sparring/combat partner for the day just so he could feel your skin against his, even if your blows harmed him, he would lick off the trickling blood on his lips, the way you would swiftly bring him into a headlock with your thighs, that and he doesn't tap out until the edge of death, purposingly wanting to stay between your legs, his hair resting on your intimate area, cussing under his bated breath.

“Victory,” His face was full of smugness despite being at the mercy of your headlock, despite nearing unconsciousness.

“Tap out you idiot! Are you fucking insane?!” He was, for you. You didn't wanna lose, but you'd also prefer if your win didn't have a loss in the process, so you shoot a quick, annoyed look to the one supervising this sparring match, mouthing the words 'timeout' and flicking your pupils towards the Balladeer and his gleeful, suffocated expression. This sick fuck.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to forget his own task, unfocused and disorganized in your alluring, sexy dress in this mission the two of you were currently on. Come on, he hadn't witness you wear anything except work uniform since you being hired here, in an attempt to redirect his attentions towards you, he began to adjust his raging boner with his pockets every so often under the table, unfortunately that 'adjusting' turned into slight rubbing.

His thumb against the fabric of his pockets, rubbing his cock while he oggled your curves, thinking of messing you and that lipstick of yours in a later time. You looked so damn hot to him, he couldn't focus on his mission, he was risking himself a derank, a big demotion at that, and if he did get demoted, he would be at least moved to another section of the agency, perhaps even moved to another branch, and worse, he wouldn't be able to be with you anymore.

So in a breathy silence, he tried his very best, staying focused while his heart raced and ached for you. (As well as his cock.)

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to annoy with his amused expression and risk exposing you during an uncover mission, just so he could get a whiff out of your intoxicating scent by your side as his hand slides down your dress' curves, while you attempt to act like nothing is happening infront of aristocrats that you are faced with.

To memorize that natural scent mixed with a perfume you put on yourself, to imprint your curves onto his hands when his glided down your hips, he almost let out a snort infront of aristocrats when that polite expression on your face wavered a bit. That one eye of yours twitching in warning to his actions, just like his growing boner again.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type who will glare at the tall, attractive man you're mingling with for the mission from far away, observing you with an untouched champagne in hand, almost shattering the glass with his grip as he hears your genuine, amused laughter with the man you're talking with. He would down the drink in one go, before making his way towards you, his purple irises darkening further as the man kisses the knuckles along your hand with a smirk, his lips lingering, causing Scaramouche's steps to hasten, his veins popping out along the lines of his jawline.

Arriving, he immediately went to reach for the man's right wrist, his grip — trembling with adrenaline and jealousy, glaring down with a blank smile on the confused figure on your knuckles, causing a scene and bringing attention towards the three of you, his eyes burning with a passionate jealousy, almost not caring about the undercover mission anymore.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type who would smile coldly towards the tall figure, removing the man's hand from yours as you look at Scaramouche with a hint of alarm and confusion, and unable to process the situation at hand, his hand slither around your waist, holding you close to his body as he stares his cold, dead eyes towards the man. His hands would move down from your waist, to your hips and down to your rear, causing an almost explicit scene while both of your earpieces emit loud noises of confusion and anger from the scene he's causing.

“Princess, this guy bothering you?” It didn't sound like a question when he asked. When the man almost stepped up to refute, Scaramouche slowly moved the end of his jacket, making his holstered gun visible for the man, making you blare with shock before removing his grip from him.

“He- He's just a bodyguard, my most sincerest apologies." You shot him a look, your gaze telling him to lay off, slightly mouthing 'stick to your own mission' when the man before the two of you wasn't paying attention. “I'll uh, have talk to him about personal space later.” You added, pinching his side with your thumb and index, eliciting him a jolt and grumble of annoyance.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to then pull you away from the scene after intimidating and letting the man know that you were a taking woman, before pulling you away from all the prying gazes, into an elegant, marbled corridor, pressing the confused, flustered you against a pillar.

“What're you—!” A hand was on your lips already, shutting you up as you feel him press his weight onto you against the pillar.

He was so jealous, and understandably so. Why did you let that guy kiss you with such an endearing smile but you cringe or shy away when he does it? Shit didn't make sense at all.

“You're mean, princess.” He clicked his tongue, purple irises glossing and wandering down upon you, his form towering against your body while you're still trying to process what just occured. Both of your earpieces started to static, and before a voice can come through, Scaramouche removes his earpiece, his breath ragged from the arousal that was swelling up inside him in the result of the closeness between the two of you.

Your cleavage in his sights, your curves, hindering his thought process while his growing erection started to harden against your lower body, putting the him in a sinful daze. His arousal was dense, the heat and his eagerness for you was starting to affect you as well.

“Kuni-... What do you mea- Mmph—!”

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type who would start to needily dry hump against you, his hands cupping your cheeks like you were the most delicate and precious thing in his lonely existence. His hands would travel down to your body, down to your plump ass, feeling the softness with his palm before closing the distance that deemed irrelevant between your lips, kissing you with a muffled whimper escaping his lips while his hands pulled you close to his hardening erection in his pants. He would slip is tongue against yours, flicking it aggressively, swirling it in circular motions against your warm, slick tongue, as both of your audible, heavy breathing echoes along the building's corridors.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to not care about being caught, unzipping the barrier of fabric, releasing his cock, giving it a few strokes for your dazed gaze, smirking before lifting your flexible right leg up over his shoulder, thus beginning to to rub his pink, swollen tip, grazing against your aroused slit, his cum hole pressing up against your clit, teasing you as you shudder beneath the towering man whom you thought was so damn annoying, only then to see him in a new light. His cockhead would then slowly insert your tight entrance, as soft, sharp whimpering escapes his parted, wet mouth, pumping his cock into you shortly after as the sounds of slapping skin envelopes the marbled architecture where the two of you reside.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type who would let you get used to his hardened, throbbing cock, pushing into you slowly, before suddenly grabbing you in a chokehold with his hands, his gaze lowered to the sexy view of his length rutting sloppily into you like a bunny in its mating season. He would try to stifle his own moans, reduced to audible, hot breaths as he would incoherently babble on about how fucking hot you are, taking on his length next to your ear.

“I'm gonna-... I'm close, I'm- can—can I- fuck-” His breath hitched sharply, burying his face down to your neck, starting to tongue fuck your throat, coating your skin with his saliva, his love bites as he quickened the pace of his warm cock inside you, his movements starting to get inconsistent, his right hand on your thighs, gripping his hold and using it as an achor to his wavering legs.

“fff.. I'm gonna- I'm fucking cumming- I'm—fuck-” He moaned against your coated neck, stifling his groans in his orgasm as his hips bucked into you deeply, his thick load gushing into you, the two of you both trembling in pleasure.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to linger his coated cockhead inside your creamed entrance, letting his cock limp inside you from his clinginess and wanting to be with you as he pressed his wet lips against you once more, only then to be caught by the man at the ball who previously kissed your knuckles. Except, Scaramouche, who was smirking, only brought his hand to your chin, gripping it tightly and tilting your head to where the man was, showing your dazed, fucked out, erotic expression with your tongue out in the open, panting heavily as your eyes meet the tall, blushing man, forcing the man to know that you were his, and his only.

CODENAME: BALLADEER ! is the type to roll his eyes with his crossed arms, while listening to your supervisors, scolding him about the risk he took in the undercover mission, his eyes landing on you, seeing the blush on your face as you worked on your desk, remembering the details of the events that occured earlier with a faint smirk — only then to be interrupted by his the scolding once again.

reblogs help my audience reach, thank you.

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alloftheimaginesblog · 2 years

Text

Our Little Family (Peter Parker)

Plot: You and Peter are first time parents.

Character: Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Reader

Requested by anon : thank you! I’d written this and then lost the file so this is rewritten with as much of the same detail I could remember! xx

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s waited a little under nine months for this moment to come and now that it’s here, he doesn’t really know what to do. His heart hammers in his chest as he stares at you in complete awe and shock. He almost wants to pinch himself to make sure that this isn’t a dream. He doesn’t though because if this is a dream then it’s the best damn dream he’s ever had and he doesn’t want to ever wake up from it.

“Pete?” You ask, voice croaky and tired. You can see the fear in his eyes, see the hesitation he has, “You want to hold her?” You look down at the tiny sleeping baby in your arms. She’s barely an hour old and he’s yet to hold her, he kept shaking his head and telling you to have her first. ‘I know how important skin to skin is,’ he said. But now, it’s his turn and you can see how panicked he is at the prospect. You tell him that it’s okay, she’s okay and it’s going to be fine.

“Y-Yeah,” he nods quickly with that kind of ‘I’ve no idea what you just asked me’ nod. She looks tiny in your arms, almost impossibly small. Tiny, he muses in his head, maybe that’ll be her nickname. You haven’t even named her and yet he already had a nickname lined up. He liked nicknames, that’s why he had hundreds for you. He had cheesy ones that would make you roll your eyes and laugh at him, had ones that were sweet and had ones that could never be heard outside of the bedroom. He likes nicknames, likes the intimacy between the two people who know the story of the nickname. He imagines calling your daughter Tiny and telling her when she’s a little older how small she was, exaggerating the story to make her laugh by saying silly things like ‘you were so small I could fit you inside the palm of my hand and carry you around in my pocket’. He’s excited for those days where you can run around and talk to him but he doesn’t want to wish away your childhood just yet. He just has to get past this stage, hold you for the first time and then he’ll be okay.

You extend your arms, holding her out to him as you watch him. He’s terrified as he reaches forward but he puffs his chest out to make himself feel braver, a habit picked up through years of forcing himself to be brave. He’s terrified that he won’t be good for your daughter, that he’ll end up causing harm to her or to you; it’s happened in the past and yes, he’s much more careful and thorough but the worry still lingers. He’s terrified of leaving you and your daughter, what if what happened to his dad or to Uncle Ben happens to him and he’s taken too soon and too quickly? He hates that thought. It took years of reassurance from you and through the help of a therapist to get out of that mindset. He wishes he didn’t feel this way. You always told him that you liked that he had these worries, not liking how they upset and plagued him, but you would tell him to use them to his advantage so that they never came to fruition. Even despite losing his father and then losing Uncle Ben way too soon, he wouldn’t change it for the world. All he can do is try to make them proud. They did their best and that’s all that he can do too.

You help him take her, helping to adjust her position in his arms. “Hey, hey,” he coos gently as she fusses from being moved, “You’re okay, everything’s okay.” At this point, you don’t know if he’s reassuring himself or her. Once he’s got her, you lean back, watching with the widest smile on your face. He looks down at her with the same expression you see when he looks at you; love. It’s a different kind of love now but my god, you’d recognise his love a mile away especially with that wide, toothy grin. The way he looks at her, so awestruck and in love. Tears steadily track down his cheeks as he stares at her and then, her eyes open and she’s staring up at him, blinking in the bright hospital light, “Hi,” he croons, laughing out a half laugh half sob, “hey, pretty girl. Look at you, huh? It’s me, it’s your dad.” This was Peter’s destiny, his next great adventure. He had a lot actually. He was Spider-Man, a son, a nephew, a friend, your boyfriend, your fiancé, your now husband and now… now he was a father too. This was his next great adventure and you knew that once he got over that initial fear and that initial hesitation, he’d be great. You can’t help but cry as you watch him laugh and speak with her. Your daughter’s limbs flail and he takes her hand. She clutches onto his finger and he raises his head to look at you, “She’s holding my thumb!” He says in a half whisper, half exclaim.

Then you’re laughing that kind of laugh that says, ‘I haven’t slept in over twenty four hours and I don’t know whether I’m laughing or crying’. He approaches you, pressed a long kiss to your forehead, “Can you believe this?” You ask, wiping at your eyes as Peter sits on the edge of the hospital bed and the two of you stare down at your little bundle of joy who’s now back to sleeping in his arms, “We’ve got a beautiful little girl who still doesn’t have a name.”

“May,” he murmurs, smiling down at her. He doesn’t mean to say it, it just kind of happened, “I-I’m sorry, I know we never spoke about it- I just… I can’t help but think how much Aunt May would’ve loved to have been here to meet this pretty girl.” Aunt May had passed a little over eight months ago, a couple of weeks after you’d told her that you were pregnant. She was overjoyed and you knew that she would’ve loved to meet your little one. You and Peter hadn’t yet picked a name, you’d narrowed it down to a few and May wasn’t on the list.

You looked down at her, tracing circles on her tiny little hand, “May,” you whisper, mulling it over as you stare intently at her. Peter tenses, “I love it.” He breathes out a relieved breathy laugh, “May Parker… it’s nice to meet you.”

He kisses your cheek before looking down at your daughter, “May Parker, you are the most loved girl in the whole world.” He makes a promise to himself in that moment; a promise to keep you both as safe as possible, to make you happy and to always be there for the two of you, no matter what, “I love you,” he whispers in your ear, “I love our little family.” He isn’t scared anymore, he’s excited.

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tetsurousharlot · 2 years

Text

18+ ONLY MINORS 17 AND UNDER + AGELESS BLOG DNI OR BE BLOCKED

For @kenzumekodma's AUdvent Collab, thank you @httptamaki and @nocturnalazura for beta reading!

Pairing: Private Investigator!Shinsou x female reader

Warnings: 1940s au with one bed trope, all characters are 18+, mention of gun, mention of smoking, light sir kink, fingering, penetrative sex, minimal prep, mating press, porn with plot, slight mafia au but not really. I BLOCK MINORS 17 and under + AGELESS BLOGS. I do not own the characters.

Word count: just over 4k

Reds, oranges, and yellows color the sky as you arrive at your destination, black heeled oxfords clacking against the sidewalk. Chocolate brown bucket hat matches the wool trench coat, navy blue from your dress peeking out the bottom, as you walk up to the nondescript building. Pulling open the door, you thrust yourself into the slightly less cold of the building and walk down the halls, bypassing door after door until you get to the one you seek, the one that reads ‘SHINSOU HITOSHI’ and has ‘PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR’ underneath it.

Squaring your shoulders and steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. You hear the squeak of a chair, followed by heavy footsteps shuffling across the floor, before the door is thrust open and slicked back purple hair is the first thing you notice. The second being gray eyes, speckled with violet, as your eyes trail down the body of the man in front of you.

His eyes rake up and down your body, “what can I do for you, toots?”

You clear your throat and straighten your back, “I’m looking to hire you.”

“Well, come on in and have a seat,” he steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.

You step inside the one room office and look around as the door clicks closed. Dark wood flooring matches the desk, littered with papers and manila folders, in the back of the room with three light wood chairs surrounding it. A newspaper and paraffin lamp reside atop the desk. Three gray filing cabinets are off to the left of the desk with a lamp resting on top of the cabinet closest to the door. A green area rug covers the floor, light wood leg from the evidence board trapping it in place. Turning around to face him, your eyes land on a worn green couch against the wall next to the door, dark wood coffee table in front of it.

You claim one of the seats by the desk, sunlight filtering in from the window on the right, as Shinsou stalks over and sits opposite you, behind his desk. The sunlight hits his eyes, making the violet of his eyes shine, as he squints them and leans forward to grab the cord, angling them in the opposite direction to block the sun from his eyes.

He folds his hands under his chin, eyes locked on yours, “so. . . what do you need my services for?”

“Someone is after me and I need to know who.”

“Got any proof, sweetheart?”

Pulling a folded piece of paper from your jacket pocket, you slide it towards him, “I found this slid under my door this morning.”

Dropping his hands, he leans forward to grab the piece of paper, eyes moving fast as he reads it, “well, toots, you are in quite the pickle.”

“Can you help me or not? I’m on a time crunch and I’ll need time to vet someone else,” you stand indignantly and hold your hand out for the note threatening your life.

“Take a seat, toots. I’m not whistling dixie so, as long as you got some greenbacks, I’ll take your case.”

Sitting back down, you meet his eyes, “what will this cost me?”

“I charge $30 an hour with $80 upfront plus expenses. After the case is completed, I take the 80 off of your final invoice. But I need more info before I decide whether to take your case or not, toots.”

“What do you need to know?”

“Someone is after ya. Means you did something or saw something you shouldn’t have. If you want my help, you gotta tell me the whole story, toots.”

You purse your lips before letting out a deep sigh, “alright. It all started last week, when I was leaving The Boulevard Room after work; got the night shift so it was after three. Heard a scuffle from the alley as I passed by, turned my head and saw two figures fighting. A shot rang out and one dropped to the ground. I ran but I guess the other guy must have seen me. Then I got that letter.”

“So you need protection? Why didn’t you go to the fuzz for help?”

“I tried. They didn’t care, didn’t believe me. You’re kind of my only hope here,” you say, letting out a shaky breath.

Shinsou’s eyes study you: the quiver in your lip, the way your eyes are glued to the floor, the way you wring your hands together, the way your body shakes, despite the tough front you try to put up.

He releases a sigh, “okay, toots. I’ll take your case.”

Your head shoots up in disbelief as thinly veiled relief swarms in your eyes, “really?! You will?”

“What kind of man would I be if I let anything happen to a dame like yourself?”

You give him a soft smile, “thank you. So what’s the first step?”

“Normally, I’d say you go home and I investigate, give ya a ring in a couple of days, but you’re not gonna be safe there. So, uh, we’ll go to your home, pack some clothes, and stick you in a motel room. You’ll stay there while I investigate.”

Nodding your head, you stand up as Shinsou shrugs on his coat and escorts you out the door.

Shinsou unlocks the door to your motel room, stepping through the door before you to make sure there’s no one in it. Having been given the all clear, you enter the room, suitcase in hand. You place your suitcase on the bed as Shinsou pulls the burnt orange curtains closed tight. You rub your oxfords against the ugly brown carpeting of the motel you’re being stashed in.

“Alright, toots,” he flicks your head. “You stay put. Don’t open the door for anyone but me – I’ll give three sharp knocks, like this,” he gives three rapid knocks against the nightstand. “I prepaid for a week – we can add more to it, if I’m still investigating. I’ll bring you food every day. Don’t call anyone – not your friends, your job, not even me, got it? No one. Only call me if it’s an emergency, okay?”

Rubbing your hands together nervously, you nod your head, “what will you be doing?”

“Investigating,” he says with a wink. “Before I go, need anything?”

Your eyes moving around the room, you let out a shaky breath, “I’ll be safe here, right? No one can find me here?”

“Y/n, you’re safe here, okay? I promise,” his hands rest on your shoulders in reassurance. “The room is under an alias. We weren’t tailed. No one will know you’re here except for you, me, and the broad at the front desk. And she doesn’t know who you are. You’re safe here and I’ll make sure you continue to be safe until this is over, okay?”

“Okay. I’m putting my faith in you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, toots. Only hope and all that,” his eyes sweep the room once more before staring down at you. “Now there’s just the down payment.”

“Oh! Right!” Turning, you reach for your purse on the bed and fish out some bills. “$80 as discussed. It’s all there but you can verify, if you want.”

Licking his fingers, he quickly counts the bills, “Pleasure doing business with ya, toots. Try, uh, try not to think too much about who’s after ya, okay? I know it’s easier said than done but, uh, you’ll drive yourself mad if you focus on it.” His hand rests on top of the television, “the small screen can be a great distraction.”

You smile softly and nod at him as he crosses the threshold, “lock the door and stay away from the windows. Keep the curtains closed.”

And, like that, he’s gone and you’re left alone with your racing mind and racing heart.

True to his word, Shinsou brings you food every day. Over the course of the week, you have every meal – breakfast, lunch, and dinner – with him. The first few days are silent, only the sounds of forks and knives against the plates with the television going in the background fill the motel room before Shinsou leaves you alone with your thoughts again.

Eventually, you’re able to engage him in conversation. You talk about your families – both of your parents died young. His parents are still alive and he has a baby sister. You started your career because the pay is good. He started his because he wanted to help people. You shared stories about your childhoods and your hopes for the futures in between updates about your case. He’s been scoping out your club during business hours and staking it out after hours but hasn’t seen or heard anyone asking for you, effectively putting the case at a dead end.

Shinsou throws the napkin on his plate as his gray eyes capture your y/e/c ones, “I’m not giving up, though. It may take a bit longer but, eventually, they’ll show up and ask for ya, doll. It’s just a waiting game. I’m gonna go pay for another week and then get to The Boulevard Room again. See if anyone turns up tonight.”

“Can I go with you?”

“No. It’s too dangerous for you.”

“But what if I can recognize him?”

“And give him what he wants, put you in danger?”

“It’d be worth it if we catch him. And you’ll be there. You can protect me!”

“Doll, I told you – no,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I gotta go. Stay here. Lock th – “

“Lock the door, stay away from the windows, keep the curtains drawn tight and watch the television. Same as I’ve been doing all week, Hitoshi.”

“Y/n, I . . .”

“It’s fine,” you turn to face the television, sitting on the bed with your back facing him. “Just go. Work. I’ll be here like a good, little girl, all locked up.”

Shinsou’s mouth opens and closes before he walks out of the room, closing the door without waiting for the confirmation that the door is locked and heading to The Boulevard Room.

Shinsou’s been at The Boulevard Room for three hours now and, just like the past week, he’s gotten bupkis. He pinches the bridge of his nose before downing his shot of whiskey, tossing some bills on the table. He’s about to give up for the night and leave when the mention of your name makes his ears pick up.

“Can’t believe the broad was cockeyed to gain the attention of Diamond,” one goon from the table over speaks in a hushed voice.

“Bassiano ‘Diamond’ Nicastro? How did she get involved with him? I’ll find out later. Important thing is I finally got the name of who’s after her,” Shinsou thinks to himself before his eyes widen and his heart breaks into a sprint at the next words he hears.

The other man’s eyes covertly roam over the room before speaking, “did ya hear he finally found her? She was MIA for a week but he located her holed up in some seedy motel room. He’s on his way there now.”

Shinsou casually exits his booth and exits the club to not tip off the two goons inside. Once he’s free from their line of sight, he breaks into a sprint in the direction of the motel you’re stashed in. He gets to the motel in record time and races to your room, finding the door broken down.

“Shit!” He pulls his gun from his holster and carefully enters the room to see clothes strewn about, coffee table and bed turned over but no you and no angry mobster. “Okay, there’s no signs of struggle – just a ransacked room. Maybe she got out or found a hiding spot,” he thinks, putting his gun away.

“Doll?” He whispers as he walks throughout the room, looking for clues as to what happened to you. Finding nothing, he moves to the bathroom, searching there for signs you got free as the smell of smoke reaches his nostrils. His eyes zero in on the window being cracked, unnoticeable to the average eye, and he opens the window, calling out, “doll? Are ya out here?”

With no response, he moves back into the main room, looking for your suitcase and placing it on the bed when he finds it. He walks throughout the room, picking up and packing up clothes that aren’t destroyed before he grabs the suitcase and closes the door, paying the bill at the motel desk. Suitcase in hand, he heads back to his office to exhaust all options and call in some favors to find you. Unlocking the door to his office, he steps through it only to be met with a punch to gut and his gray eyes look up to see. . . you, phone book in hand. Seeing that you’re okay, all the pain subsides and the suitcase drops to the ground with a thud as he stands up straight and takes one long stride towards you.

His hand wraps around the back of your neck, cradling your head as he captures your lips with his, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip before you part your lips, granting him entrance. Your hands move to his shoulders, one sliding to grip his hair when you part, your heavy breaths filling the minimal space between you both.

Your eyes search his gray ones wildly, “Hitoshi, what – “

“A lead finally turned up when I was at The Boulevard Room, but they said you had been found. When I got to the motel, the room was ransacked and you were gone,” he wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close to him. “I was so worried I had lost you. How did you get out?”

“Don’t be mad but I was going stir crazy. Lit a cigarette to ease my nerves but it didn’t help. . . so I left the room, hid by the far side of the building when Diamond showed up and walked to my room. At least, now I know who’s after me. I immediately ran here.”

“In this one instance, it worked out that you left,” his hands cup your cheeks. “I’m just glad you’re safe, doll. I don’t think I could live with myself if anything happened to you. We gotta get out of here, though. Motel is out so we need to hide you somewhere else.”

“But where? It’s pretty obvious he’ll find me at a motel if we go to one again.”

“I have a safe house. You can stay there.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the middle of nowhere, standing in a one-bedroom house located just on the outskirts of town. The only difference between arriving here and from when you arrived at the motel is that Shinsou holds your suitcase in one hand and your hand in the other.

He places the suitcase down, gray eyes meeting yours, “make yourself at home, doll. Just don’t – “

“Go outside? Leave?” You smirk at him.

“Yeah, both of those, doll,” his hand rubs his neck nervously. “Uh, guess I’ll just head out, then.”

Rushing forward, you grab your hands in his, “would you stay the night? I . . . don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“Okay, doll. I’ll stay.”

And that’s how you find yourselves at the one singular bed in the bedroom. His hand rubs his neck nervously again.

“I can just sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not making you sleep on the couch. Besides, you can protect me better if you’re next to me, right?” You look up at him with doe eyes.

“You sure you’re okay with sharing a bed when we’re unwed?”

“I’m not so bothered by that like most women are.”

He gives you a soft smile and you both get ready for bed, taking turns in the bathroom. You climb into bed just as he turns out the lights and silence fills the room.

“Uh, good night, doll.”

“Good night, Hitoshi.”

Darkness still covers the room as you shoot up with a sheen of sweat forms on your face. Next to you, Shinsou stirs and sits up.

“Doll? What’s wrong?”

Launching yourself at him, you try to calm your breathing, “I just had a bad dream. I dreamed that Diamond found me and I wouldn’t be safe anywhere.”

His hand rubs your back soothingly as you peer up at him, same doe eyes drawing him as you press your lips to his and throw your leg over his waist. You press your lips to his and he deepens the kiss as his hands move to massage your thighs. Grinding your hips against his, you feel his cock twitch and harden.

Breaking the kiss, you look at him through hooded eyes, “Hitoshi, make me forget. Please?”

“You sure you want this, doll?”

“I’m sure that I want you, Hitoshi,” you roll your hips against his again. “Please, sir.”

His groan vibrates against you, shooting sparks right down to your pussy and causing you to clench around nothing. He flips you both over so he can rest on top of you as he brings his lips to yours. Kissing you deeply, he slides his hands up your thighs until they dance around your folds. Pushing your panties to the side, he inserts two fingers and scissors them inside you.

Your moans fill the air as you claw at his back, hips grinding against his hand, “Hitoshi, need more, please.”

He groans as he adds a third finger and your fingers move to the front of his pajama shirt to undo the buttons. He removes his hand from you, slick coating his fingers as he slides his shirt off and tosses it to the side before bringing his fingers to your lips.

Darkened gray eyes meet yours as he gives a command, “suck.”

You wrap your lips around his fingers, tongue running along the ridges, as you moan around his fingers and lick them clean.

“Good girl, following instructions,” he bunches your nightgown in his hands before pulling it over your head, leaving you almost completely bare to him.

His eyes darken even more as they roam down your body and he places a kiss on your neck, trailing down until he gets to your chest and attaches his lips to your breast. You arch your back into his mouth as he sucks harshly, tongue licking at your newly pebbled nipple. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling on his locks, as you shove your breast further into his mouth and rut your hips against his fully hard cock.

Your legs push his pants down and he kicks them off as he releases your breast with a pop. Hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties, he looks at you for confirmation before he slides them down.

Gripping his cock, he gives it a few pumps as he lines up the tip with your folds, “last chance to change your mind, doll. I may not be able to stop.”

You press your lips to his softly and wrap your legs around his waist, “I want this, Hitoshi. I want you.”

He deepens the kiss as he slides his cock inside your walls, swallowing your moan as he bottoms out. He stills as he waits for you to adjust and, when you nod your head, he pulls out until just the tip remains before slamming back in. You break the kiss, head falling back against the pillows, and your moans fill the room. He ruts his hips against yours, pubic bone rubbing along your clit, making you gasp out as your walls spasm around him.

“Please, sir, need more.”

He pushes your knees up to your chest as he angles his hip, rocking you both forward with his thrusts. He angles his hips, rubbing against the spot that makes you see stars, and you release a stuttering gasp into the quiet of the room. The only sounds are the moans from both of you and the slapping of skin against skin as you brace your hands against the headboard, slamming your hips against his.

“Hitoshi, gonna cum.”

He captures your lips with his again as he brings his thumb to rub harsh circles against your clit and he speeds up his thrusts. You cum with a loud moan, juices coating his cock, as his hips stutter and he gives another harsh thrust before pulling out, white coating your thighs. Breathing heavy, he collapses against you to catch his breath.

Your fingers play with his purple locks until he lifts his head up to look at you, “I think I’m falling in love with you, doll.”

You give him a soft, happy smile, “I think I’m falling in love with you, too, Hitoshi.”

Flopping on his back, he pulls you to his chest and wraps an arm tight around his waist. You trace shapes on his chest as you gnaw on your lip, guilt eating you up inside, and his hands moves to rub up and down your arm.

Taking a deep breath, you break the silence, “I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

His hand freezes on your arm as you continue, “it’s true I didn’t know who was after me when I first came to you but seeing the scuffle isn’t why he’s after me. Something fell from his pocket moments before the gunshot rang out. I picked it up and put it in my coat pocket. It was a diamond, specifically The Pink Legacy diamond.”

His breath hitches and there’s a beat before he answers, “Where is it now?”

“Buried, with my parents.”

His lips press the top of your head, “I’ll take care of it in the morning.” His hand cups your cheek, forcing you to look up at him, “I will keep you safe.”

You give him a soft smile and close your eyes, leading to the best sleep you’ve had in days.

True to his word, Shinsou took care of it. You woke up alone the morning after but he left a note, explaining that he went to get the diamond and that he was going to set up a meeting with the mobster you landed yourself in hot water with, Bassiano “Diamond” Nicastro. He never told you what happened at that meeting and you never asked, but you did see the newspaper that Shinsou brought you as confirmation it was all over.

The title “MOBSTER GOON JAILED, NICASTRO DEAD” in bold, black letters allowing you to take a true breath for the first time in weeks. It’s over. It’s really over. You’re safe. Your watery y/e/c eyes meet Shinsou’s gray ones, purple more vibrant in the morning sun, two days after he left to procure the diamond and meet with Nicastro.

Running into his arms, you give him a big smile, “thank you, Hitoshi.”

“You’re welcome, doll,” he wraps his arms tight around you as he captures your lips with his. “So what are you going to do, now that you’re out of danger?”

“I’m not completely sure. Back to the same old life, I suppose,” you rest your head against his chest as he stiffens. “Actually, no, there is one thing I’d like to change about my life, one thing I’d like to do, now that this mess isn’t hanging over my head.”

His arms tighten against your waist as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “and what’s that, doll?”

“You know, I came to you because you were my only hope. . . but, now that the reason isn’t I need you in my life, I want you in my life. I think I’d like to be only yours.”

“I’d like that a lot, doll,” chuckling, he releases a shaky breath and tilts your head up to capture your lips in his.

You smile into the kiss before deepening it, dreaming of the bright future you have in front of you, “good because I’m giving you all of me.”

Notes: 🔍 whistling dixie is 1940's lingo for wasting your time 🔍 greenbacks is 1940's lingo for paper money 🔍 cockeyed is 1940's lingo for crazy, impossible, stupid. In this case, it's being used in place of stupid.

reblogs appreciated, especially with comments! 💕

taglist: @chibishae34 @httptamaki

#shinsou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shinsou x reader smut #shinso smut #shinso x reader smut #🦇.feast from the seven headed beast #🎄.audvent collab #🦇.beast Hitoshi #sir kink.cw

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