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flemingsfreckles · 2 months

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Better Boyfriend than Him (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Jessie finds out your boyfriend is leaving you unsatisfied in the bedroom, she offers to prove that she’s can treat you better than him. (Inspired by the song Boyfriend by Dove Cameron)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) frat boy Jessie vibes, oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), suggestive comments about straight sex, small mention of masturbation, technically cheating on boyfriend by reader.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written any form of smut, maybe not my finest work but I wanted to give it a shot.

“I thought your attitude was going to be fixed once you started getting laid regularly. What happened to that?” Those were the first words spoken to you by your best friend that afternoon. You had just opened your apartment door, slamming it behind you, kicking off your shoes with a huff. You had gotten home from your boyfriend’s apartment to find Jessie already at your place, making herself at home. She was your best friend and naturally you both had the spare key and an ongoing open invitation to each other’s apartments.

You had texted her to let her know you were leaving his place and she had run over wanting to spend time with you. Your new relationship had been taking up more of your time, the time that Jessie usually got to spend with you.

“Shut up, Jessie.” You say, a bit harsher than you should but you were already annoyed and felt like any small inconvenience could set you off like a bomb. Moving over to the couch, she had already helped herself to chips and a gotten out a pair of beers one for each of you. You slump down next to her, a heavy sigh leaving your body as you bring the bottle to your lips.

“Oh come on, it's a joke.” She gently pushed on your shoulder. “Seriously though, maybe you should try getting laid more often, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Jessie’s eyebrows wiggle suggestively at you. You know she means well, as far as she’s aware getting laid should relax you, and it would, if your boyfriend was any good in bed.

“I’m technically getting laid plenty often Jess, it’s just not helping.” She glances at you, tilting her head in a questioning manner. You realized you messed up with the way you chose to phrase your sentence, she was going to ask questions.

“What does that mean? How are you technically getting-” You shoot her a pointed look, slight scowl across your face, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Jessie quickly puts two and two together, stopping her sentence and just replying with. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You look down feeling a slight flush come across your face, embarrassed that you accidentally just admitted to your boyfriend lack of sexual talent.

“I thought you said it was good, you came raving to me after the first time and from what I heard the other day, it sounded like you were having a great time. What happened?” The confused look from before comes back across her face, this time it has a bit of concern mixed in.

Your embarrassment wasn’t aided by the fact that Jessie brought up hearing you and him the other day. You had forgotten to tell her he was coming over and Jessie had opened the door of your apartment to noises that she won’t ever be able to unhear.

Leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, you give her the answer. “I lied, it was fake.” Pinching the bridge of your noses between your thumb and index finger, you wait for her response. Part of you expects her to be angry at you for lying to her. Looking over at her, she doesn’t look angry or upset with you, she looks sad. She’s giving you the same look you would an injured puppy. Her brown eyes soft, a very faint trace of a sympathetic smile across her lips.

“Is it like everytime? You know? That he doesn’t make you…” her sentence trails off as she looks at you. The red flush that had just been on your cheeks starts to cover the rest of your face and neck, clearly embarrassed by what you had said.

“Jess, can we not do this, please?” Covering your face with your hands, you didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone. You didn’t want to have to explain that your boyfriend wasn’t able to satisfy you, that you had to pull out all the acting for him so that he felt satisfied with himself. You especially didn’t want to have to admit this to Jessie, you knew she’d find it hilarious that your boyfriend was bad in bed. She always made comments about how women do it better, specifically how she does it better than anyone. She had a small reputation, not necessarily for making her way around but she had slept with her fair share of girls at school, well known for the rounds she had made in various sororities and sports teams. She was right, most people gave her raving reviews.

Taking the attempt to change the subject as a yes to her previous question Jessie’s mouth drops open, her previously soft eyes now wide, eyebrows raised.

“He’s never made you cum? That’s embarrassing.” She paused before quickly adding, “For him! Not you.” Not wanting you to think she was calling your inability to finish embarrassing.

“Maybe it’s just hard for me to finish, some people are like that, maybe it’s not his fault. I mean he tries.” Cringing at the words as they come out of your mouth, you question why you continue to respond. Jessie was your best friend but this still felt embarrassing.

“Well, is it always hard for you to finish?”

“Obviously, so it must be me, that’s why I haven't been able to finish any of the times I’ve slept with him.” You continue to defend your boyfriend.

“That’s not what I meant. When you’re doing it solo, is it hard to get there?”

“I’m not answering that.” Feeling your face heat up even more than it already was, your skin feeling like it was burning under Jessie’s gaze. You hadn’t expected her to pry for details about you touching yourself.

“Oh come on, don’t be a prude, we all do it.” The deadpan look on her face indicated that she was fully expecting you to answer the question she had proposed.

“No, it’s easy. It’s different when I’m alone though!” Again you came to the man’s defense and you’re honestly not sure why.

“So he’s the problem. That’s not hard to realize.” When you don’t respond or even look in her direction, she adds, “You can’t just continue to convince yourself that you’re the problem.” When you don’t respond to her, she continues on.

“I’d put him to shame, I’ve only ever left happy customers.” She laughs as she says it, bringing her bottle to her lips to finish the drink off.

“I’m sure you would.” Adding an eye roll at her overly confident statement.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Her eyes squint at you now, hand on her own chest as if she was insulted by your words.

“Sure I do,” the sound of sarcasm was dropping off your words, “all I’m saying is talk is cheap Fleming.” Knowing you would be pushing on her nerves a bit, you continued. She had a reputation and it sure was positive, you didn’t actually doubt her abilities, just not confident they’d work on you.

“Well what, do you want me to prove it?”

“What if I said yes?” You’re not sure what made the challenge come out of your mouth. You didn’t even think before saying it. Maybe it was the annoyance with your boyfriend, maybe it was the three months of pent up sexual frustration, maybe it was Jessie’s confidence surrounding her skills.

Jessie doesn’t respond. Panicking as you realize you just asked your best friend to cross a line beyond friendship, you begin to back track.

“You don’t have to, sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m not sure why I did, I don’t actually expect you to-.”

You’re cut off by Jessie walking over to you, taking two strides before grabbing your face, tilting it up and bending down so her lips could meet yours. She pulls away for a second, nodding her head in the direction of the couch, her hand coming to your legs to help you move them so you are laying down. Following your actions Jessie climbs onto the couch, placing herself above you and reconnecting your lips.

Jessie was now on top of you, your back pressed firmly into the couch as her weight and hips held you down. Her hands on either side of your head. She continues to kiss you, each kiss growing sloppier. It had moved from sealed lips pressed together to your lips sliding against hers. Now she had started to open the kiss allowing her tongue to tease at your closed lips. It didn’t take much convincing on your end to open your lips and let her tongue meet yours.

Your hands found their way to her hair, one grabbing a handful at the base of her neck and pulling gently away from you. Taking the hint, Jessie pulled back. She opened her eyes to look down at you. Something about her gaze had almost a dominant expression to it, the way she was hovering over you, trapping your body between hers and the couch, you found yourself biting your lower lip as you looked up at her.

“Are you going to prove it or are we just going to makeout?” Impatience has started to spread in your body. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest, the noise loud in your ears. You secretly hoped Jessie couldn’t hear it.

“Are you sure?” Her soft eyes returned as she checked on you. Her eyes scan your face, the same way she would scan a textbook while the two of you would study, as if she was trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Please.” You weren’t usually one to beg in a situation like this but so desperate to finally feel something, you couldn’t help yourself. The last thing you needed was Jessie backing out if she felt like you were uneasy.

“Okay, let’s go then.” She sat back on her feet before moving your thigh out her way, standing up and placing a hand out for you to grab. With the assistance of her hand you stand up as well and follow her as she walks the two of you to your bedroom. Gently shutting the door behind you, Jessie places her hands on your hips gently rubbing her thumbs against the bump of your pelvic bone.

“Are you sure?” You give her a quick nod, eyes locked on hers. “Okay, if you want to stop at any point, just tell me.”

“I will.”

With your confirmation Jessie pulls you toward her again, your chest coming to meet hers. Unsure of where to put your hands you leave them at your sides for a minute. Still kissing you, you feel her hands leave their place on your hips and grab your hands. She pulls your left hand to her waist, just above her hips and your right she moves to her shoulder before her own find their place back on your hips.

Jessie begins to move her hands, they slide up slowly, coming up to cover your waist. They trail around your sides and onto your lower back. Her hands feel electric, leaving a trail of warmth wherever they go. You can feel her hesitation before she begins to slide her hands lower. She slides her hands into the back pockets of your jeans, giving a gentle squeeze. All it takes is that gentle squeeze to get a choked sigh to come out of your throat. Surprised by the noise, Jessie pulls back from your kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m good. Keep going.”

Jessie does just that. Still holding your ass she spins you both, your back now toward the bed. You feel her start to lean forward, encouraging you to step backwards. She continues the pressure until you hit the bed frame, her hands coming off of your ass as you find yourself sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

Jessie gives you a quick peck on the lips before her hands are back on you, this time they meet the bottom of your shirt. She grasps it between her fingers, pausing and looking down at you

“Can I take your shirt off?”

Instead of verbally answering, your hands reach to your shirt, starting to pull it off yourself, she takes the hint and helps remove it for you. The black shirt you had been wearing is flung across the room, landing on your desk. A small gasp leaves your mouth as Jessie bends down grabbing the back of your thighs from where you were sitting on the edge of the bed and moves you toward the center. She climbs on the bed, taking her spot back on top of you.

You watch her eyes as they study your body again, her gaze now floating across your chest where your black bra still hides your breasts. Licking her lower lip, her hand moves, running fingers down from the band of your bra to the top of your jeans. A trail of goosebumps rising in response to her touch. She continues tracing lines and circles across your bare stomach, such a simple act and yet it was making you start to squirm, wanting more from her.

“Jess,” her hand freezes in its path and her eyes glance up to meet yours. Before she has the chance to ask if you’re okay, you add, “take my bra off.”

Leaning down she attaches her lips to yours as her hand previously on her stomach moved to the back of your neck. She gently pulls you forward, encouraging you to sit up. You do so, letting her other hand that had been supporting her body weight move to your back, she unclasps your bra easily. You mentally roll your eyes, knowing Jessie is probably too proud of that one handed skill. She gently lays you back before moving both of her hands to the straps. She pulls the straps down your arms, fully exposing your chest to her.

You watch as her eyes wander from one side to the other. Thankful that she’d see you topless on a few occasions before while changing, you felt a bit more comfortable being exposed to her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but you have some of the best tits I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen my fair share.” Her eyes meet yours for a second before she is back staring.

“Thanks? I guess.” You’re not sure how to respond to her compliment. She continues to stare, her hands staying firmly on your stomach.

“Do you like them played with?” Her eyes bounce between your breast where your nipples had gone hard from the chill of the room, definitely not from the arousal Jessie, your best friend, was causing you.

“He doesn’t usually do much with them besides like a squeeze.”

“Okay, but I don’t care what he usually does. I’m trying to literally do everything he doesn’t do. I want to know what you like, what feels good to you. Stop thinking about just what he does.”

“Then yes, touch them.”

Jessie doesn’t need to be told twice by a pretty girl to touch her boobs. She sits back putting her weight on her legs freeing her hands. She gently cups your chest in her hands, gently squeezing before she moves her thumbs to graze over your already peaked nipples. You’re watching her movements but you can see in your periphery her eyes are watching your face. It felt good knowing she was watching, her attentiveness, her focus on making you feel good made your head spin. She wanted to please you, he was nothing like this.

She removed her hands temporarily placing them back by your sides to support herself as she leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was short lived as she pulled away, moving to place her lips against your jaw. Her warm mouth moved down, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses down the column of your neck before reaching your collarbone. Letting her tongue graze along the definition of the bone, you let out a sigh, you could feel as she smirked against your skin.

She continued on, making her way down your chest until her lips met the curve of your breast. Her mouth found every inch, intentionally avoiding your nipple. Her teasing only lasted a few seconds before she placed her lips against your nipple. Giving it a gentle kiss, testing the waters before going further. Not hearing any protest she continued. This time sucking with some force, letting her lips wrap around you. A small whimper fell from your lips. Her lips released your skin with a slight pop.

“What? Feels good?” A big smirk was across Jessie’s face, she was feeling proud being able to get you whimpering and moving under her by just barely touching you. Her cockiness was radiating off of her, you couldn’t even lie to yourself now, she may be your best friend but she was fucking hot.

You just give her a quick nod, unable to decide what words to respond with, slightly worried no words will come out, only a moan. Jessie sits back, removing her hands and mouth from your body. She adjusts herself so she is now straddling your leg. She brings herself back down, her lips attaching to the nipple she had been neglecting. With her new position, her thigh is placing pressure on your core, providing you the slightest bit of friction as she moves to attend to your chest. Instead of just sucking, her tongue is now circling, applying soft pressure to your sensitive bud.

“Fuck.” Your hand now reaches up to the back of her head, grabbing a handful of her hair and pushing her face further into your chest, wanting more from her. Happy to oblige, her tongue applies more pressure. As she goes to pull away, her teeth gently graze your skin, sending what feels like a shockwave from your chest down to where her thigh was placing pressure against you. You can’t help but tilt your hips in response, involuntarily grinding yourself against her.

Taking the hint that you were ready to move on, Jessie sat back her fingers trailing down your stomach before pausing at the waistband of your jeans. You felt as the tips of her fingers on one hand found their way between your skin and the band of your underwear. The other hand came to rest where the button of your jeans sat. She paused again, giving you the same look she had when she asked if you were sure, the same look she had given you before asking to take off your shirt, the same look she gave you before she touched you. Knowing she was going to ask, you beat her to it.

“Take them off.” Looking her in the eyes as her hands began to move slowly. She undid the button, slowly pulling down the zipper. Both of her hands finding the sides of your jeans, she begins to slide them down along with your panties, leaving you bare. She carefully removes your jeans, taking the time to pull them off, you lift your hips and legs accordingly. Once she has them removed they find a place on the floor, she turns back to quickly take your socks off and motions for you to lay back down.

Unlike before, Jessie had never seen you fully naked before, shirtless on occasion, a few times she’d seen you just in your underwear, and she had seen you in a swimsuit that didn’t hide much, but now here you were completely naked laying in front of her.

Your own insecurities start swarming in your head, slowly you pinch your knees together, subtly trying to cover yourself.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.” Apparently you had failed to close your legs subtly like you thought.

“No, I still want to, it’s just, I’m naked, and I just became very aware of that.”

“That’s kinda the point,” A soft laugh falls from her lips. “Not that it’ll help, but you should be proud of your body, you’re…” she hesitates “I’d say you're gorgeous but I’m not sure that’ll do it justice.” Jessie sits back up removing her own shirt, leaving her shoulders and stomach exposed.

“Thanks.” Your blush from earlier returning across your cheeks as you tried to accept Jessie’s compliment. You close your eyes taking in a deep breath and you relax your clenched thighs allowing your knees to fall back apart, giving Jessie access to you.

She lays down between your legs, her head even with your knees she turns to the side and places a soft kiss on your thigh before turning to the other one repeating the action.

You can’t help but think about your boyfriend in the moment and compare. Jessie was being so soft, so careful with you, checking in on you, and sure he made sure you wanted to, never doing anything you didn’t want, but this felt more intimate, more comfortable.

Continuing her trail of kissing Jessie slowly begins inching up toward your center. Her hands come up to the bend of your knees, she pushes them outward, spreading your thighs and placing your legs over her bare shoulders, giving you a small amount of skin to skin contact. She moves in close enough that you can feel her warm breath between your legs.

She hesitates, her eyes looking over you. Her tongue darted out wetting her lips before she leaned in. You sucked in air as you felt her tongue meet your center. It moved against your pussy with ease due to your pooling arousal. Tracing a line from your entrance up to your clit, she repeats the motion over and over, her eyes locked upward looking at you.

Her tongue slows down, licking slower and slower stripes before she stops with her tongue on your clit. Focusing on your sensitive bud, she begins flicking her tongue with light pressure. You bite your lip, holding back the moan that wanted to escape. Holding it in only lasted a moment as she began to suck softly, making the movements of her tongue feel even more pleasurable. As you had done before, your hands tangle themselves in her hair, pulling tightly on the strands. Small moans now fill the air of your bedroom, no longer feeling like holding them in.

The mixture of warmth and wetness of her tongue makes you throw your head back. You couldn’t help but stare at her, something about her looking up at you from between your legs, while she was eating you out made your brain feel fuzzy.

Pushing your thigh out with her hand, Jessie gave herself enough room to bring her arm up between your legs, her middle finger coming up to rest against your hole. She didn't push in yet, just resting her finger against you and slowly circling the opening. Her tongue still working against you, you could start to feel the faint clench on your abdomen, the same clench you would feel as you would bring yourself close to orgasm when you were by yourself.

Feeling Jessie’s finger enter, you clench around her, causing her to stop moving her finger and her lips to detach from your core as she looks up at you, you release her hair from your tight grip, just letting them rest on her head.. The sight of her looking up at you with messy hair and your wetness covering her lips and chin was not something you had prepared for.

“Are you alright? Sorry I should’ve asked before I used my fingers.” You could see her blown pupils from here, barely any brown remaining around them.

“No I’m good, it feels good, please keep going,” your voice comes out with a slight rasp that you weren’t expecting. Clearing your throat you add, “you can use two.”

Hearing your request, Jessie’s lips and tongue return to your now swollen and red clit. Her hand pushes up and back on your leg, giving herself even more room between your thighs. Still moving slowly Jessie begins to push her middle and ring finger into you. The feeling of her fingers opening you has you throwing your head back, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling. Jessie takes her time still moving only a knuckle at a time, making sure you were open enough around her. You feel your muscles clench again from the feeling of her long fingers along with her tongue.

She pauses when she’s fully inside of you. Instead of thrusting her fingers she just begins to curl them, placing pressure against your walls.

“Fuck Jessie.” Eyes snapping open as you register that you had just moaned her name. You keep your gaze at the ceiling, not daring to look down at the Canadian between your legs. Without looking at her you feel her reaction as she lets out a small moan of her own, the noise causing her lips to reverberate around your clit.

Her tongue continues its movements, she could feel you beginning to tighten around her fingers, becoming increasingly difficult for her to curl them inside of you. She begins thrusting her fingers slightly, still curving them up but adding more movement. The new movement is all you need, the warmth and tightness of your incoming orgasm begin to increase and spread.

“Please Jess.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging her to do, wanting so badly for her to push you over the edge, whatever it takes is good with you. You feel the pace of her fingers speed up slightly, the suction from her lips around your clit increases. The muscles of your thighs begin trembling as you become increasingly sensitive. Your back slowly pulls away from the bed as your arch into her touch. You only last a few more seconds on the edge before your orgasm washes over you.

A loud groan is released from your body as your hand firmly grasp Jessie’s head between your thighs. You push her hard into yourself as your hips move to grind yourself against her face. Your shaking legs wrapping around her head, your walls clenching her fingers so tight they no longer move in and out of you, just curling inside. The pleasure lasts a few seconds before it becomes too much, you let your legs fall off her shoulders and onto the bed. The hands that previously held her tight against you are pushing her back, she releases her lips from you. Her fingers remain inside of you, as you are still clenched around them.

Jessie doesn’t say anything immediately, she just looks up at you from between your legs, face covered in your arousal, her cheeks a slight red from her work. Waiting a second for you to catch your breath, her fingers stay still inside of you. With her free hand she swipes her thumb across her chin, collecting the mixture of her own spit and your wetness, bringing her thumb between her lips to suck it clean. She feels you begin to relax around her fingers, recovering from the intense pleasure, she slowly pulls out of you, a groan leaving your lips as she does so.

Her lips place one last quick kiss on your core, causing you to jump, pulling away from her, slightly being over stimulated. She moves from between your legs, laying down on her side next to you. She pulls the blanket up with her, covering your body and hers with it.

“See I told you it wasn’t you. It’s him.” You turned over to see her shit eating grin, you could still smell yourself on her face. You have the urge to reach out and make her kiss you, wanting to taste yourself from her lips.

“Shit.” Rolling back away you breathed out the word, staring at the ceiling. The reality of the situation comes back into your mind. Your best friend had just made you cum with ease, a task your soon to be ex-boyfriend hadn’t been able to do in the months you had been seeing him.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just need to break up with my boyfriend.”

#jessie fleming #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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gurugirl · 1 year

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Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

Tumblr

@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words.

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together?

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy.

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy.

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

#gurugirl fic recs #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry styles fic #my faves

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justagalwhowrites · 2 months

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Stitches: Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Joel comes into the clinic after getting hurt on the job. A non-canon one shot set in the Lavender universe.

^Gif not representative of reader's appearance, just here for the vibes.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author to be paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender, QZ era

Warnings: Brief description of injury. Angst. Smut (P in V sex). No use of Y/N, Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4k

A/N: Sooooo this one got a little away from me (shocking, I know.) I can't promise all of this collection will be this long but apparently I really missed Joel and Doc. Written for @suzmagine after she requested QZ era Joel and Doc with angst and smut :)

For You Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sunday, September 20, 2015

“I’ve got one more for you,” Marta hovered outside the patient room, a file folder in her hands.

You groaned.

“Another one?” You asked. “Shouldn’t we be done for the day by now? Shouldn’t we have been done for the day an hour ago?”

“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” she replied. “I’m the one who’s been pulling double duty all day because Andrew’s out…”

“And I’m the one who’s had twice the patient load because the entire QZ has the flu,” you sighed before you pinched the bridge of your nose. This wasn’t helping either of you. “Alright, just… Please tell me this is the last one.”

“Last one,” she said. “Doors are locked.”

“Speakeasy after this?” You asked, opening the folder.

“I would but Brian and I are going to a friend’s place tonight,” she smiled, almost sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “I just need to get a life….” You glanced down at the intake notes. Just stitches and antibiotics, on order from FEDRA. “This looks basic, why don’t you head on out. I can finish up here.”

“Really?” She asked. You just nodded and she squealed a little. “Thank you so much!”

You tried to not be jealous of the fact that she had a life to go home to. In all reality, you shouldn’t be upset about staying late at work. It’s not like you had anything else going on. Once Tommy left the QZ and Andrew and Jess started spending more time just the two of them while she was down for the count because of her pregnancy, you pretty much spent your time not at work at home, doing a lot of nothing.

“I need a hobby,” you muttered to yourself before making your way down to the exam room where your last patient was waiting for you.

You knocked once on the door and gave the patient a moment to answer before you opened it, reviewing the intake notes as you did.

“Hi there,” you said, looking up from the file. “I’m….”

Your voice trailed off. Joel was sitting there, perched on the end of the exam table, his eyes ranging over you.

“Don’t think you need to introduce yourself, Kid,” he said, giving you a wry half smile.

You looked back at the file. In the name field was just J.M. - FEDRA. You frowned and looked back at him.

“FEDRA sent you in?” You set the file down on the counter before going to wash your hands. “Why, did you pick a fight with a guard?”

“No,” he quirked his jaw. “Just some equipment on sewer duty.”

“Lucky you,” you said, pulling your chair up beside the table. You sat down, closer to him than you’d been since you’d been almost blown up before Tommy left the QZ. “Well, I’m sure you’d rather see anybody else but I’m afraid there’s something going around and I’m the only doctor who’s here right now. Since you’re here on FEDRA orders, I can’t really let you leave and come back another time…”

“S’fine,” he cut you off. “It’s not… I don’t mind. That it’s you, I mean.”

“Oh,” you said, a little taken aback. You tried to hide it as you pulled on your gloves. “Well that’s… good. Why don’t take off your shirt, looks like the injury is on your stomach?”

“Yeah,” he said, unbuttoning his top. “They put a bandage on me there but said I’d need stitches and shit to keep it from gettin’ infected.”

“Yeah, I feel like dying from an infection that doesn’t turn people into monsters in this day and age is a bit of a raw deal.”

Joel snorted and shrugged out of the shirt. You saw a bandage, stained with blood, near his belly button. You winced a little, even though you’d seen so much of Joel’s blood at this point you thought you should be used to it. But it never got any easier, knowing he was putting himself at risk, knowing he was in pain.

Blood was a good distraction, though, when you thought about it. Joel without his shirt had always been a weak spot for you. Blood was one way to keep you from focusing on things you shouldn’t. Like the fact that his chest was broad and firm and you knew just what it would be to rest your head against him there and listen to the steady thrum of his heart as you fell asleep.

“I’m going to remove the bandage, OK?” You said, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. He just gave you a single nod and you pulled down the bundle of gauze and tape to expose a jagged cut that dipped into the muscle of his abdomen. You hissed a little in sympathetic pain. “What’d you do, Joel?”

“Had to jump to dodge an out of control truck,” he said. “Ended up landin’ on something sharp. Hurt like a bitch but… had worse.”

“Had worse is a damn low bar for you,” you said, gingerly examining the wound. “Good news is, this is even cleaner than I expected. Actually, you’re cleaner than I expected, you don’t smell like you were on sewer duty.”

“Yeah, well, figured patchin’ me up wouldn’t do much if I was covered in shit,” he said, voice beaten down by the misery that was QZ life. It was a tone you knew well. “Showered before I came.”

You nodded slowly.

“I’ll numb you up and get this all closed,” you said, sitting back from him. “Go ahead and lie back for me while I get set up.”

You gathered what you needed and came back to find Joel flat on the table, his hands folded over the base of his chest. The cracked face of the watch glinted in the florescent light and you tried not to think about how his arms looked bare. You hadn’t seen his arms bare in so long.

You cleared your throat and pulled the chair back up alongside him and changed gloves.

“Small poke,” you said as you injected the local anesthetic. He grunted but stayed still. You gave it a few minutes to kick in before you gently prodded the wound. “Feel that?”

“No,” he said.

You nodded and set to work, flushing out the wound and aligning his damaged skin to stitch it closed.

“So,” you said after the silence was heavy in the room. “How’ve you been since Tommy left?”

His body tensed a little.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Just a bit quiet around the apartment.”

You nodded slowly, focusing on your stitching.

“I hope you’re not just sitting in there all alone,” you said, half teasing half serious. “Even you need social contact now and then.”

“M’fine.”

There was something in his tone that made you feel like he was not, in fact, fine. As much as you tried to forget, you carried so much of the intimacies of Joel Miller within you. How he looked when his face was relaxed in sleep, how he felt when he held you like you were the only thing he had left in the world, how he sounded when he was in pain. He sounded that way now.

“Are you?” You asked, lifting your eyes from his stomach to look up his body to his face. His head was raised just enough to look back at you.

“Not your damn business what I am or what I’m not,” he snapped, lowering his head back to the exam table. “Leave it.”

“I’m just…” you paused as you finished the last stitch. “I worry about you sometimes is all. I know you don’t have a lot of people, Joel, and…”

“I’m not your fuckin’ problem,” he bit out, sitting up so fast that you shocked back from him. “I don’t need you pokin’ around my life and fuckin’ it up anymore than you already have so just leave it, alright!”

“Alright,” you said quietly, tears pinching at the back of your throat.

“You done sewin’ me shut?” He snapped. You nodded, still trying to resist the urge to cry. “Good.”

He snatched his shirt up and stalked out of the room, not even stopping to put it on.

You took a deep, shaky breath, staring at the place where Joel had just been. You tried not to think about how, for just a few minutes, there had been a quiet intimacy there like there had been with him before. How he felt comfortable and safe beside you, where you could run your fingers over his skin and see where his hair was starting to gray.

You gave yourself a few minutes to calm down before you started cleaning up, trying to focus on getting home so you could curl up in a ball in your bed where you were warm and safe, even if you were alone. You were starting to clear the tray of tools when you realized the syringe of penicillin was still there, shiny and full.

You’d never given him the antibiotics.

“Shit,” you muttered, voice wet.

You set it aside and finished cleaning up before grabbing a bottle of pain killers and an oral course of antibiotics and setting out to Joel’s place.

He answered quickly, all but ripping the door open and looking surprised to find you there when he did.

“What do you want,” he snapped.

“You still need antibiotics,” you said quietly, fighting to not flinch back from him. You held up the small bag with the syringe, bandages and pills inside. “You left before I could give them to you.”

He quirked his jaw but stepped aside, opening the door wide enough for you to come in. You set the bag down on the table and started taking off your coat.

“Didn’t say you could fuckin’ stay,” Joel said, voice still sharp.

“I figured you’d want me having full range of motion with my arms when I’m sticking you with a needle,” you said harshly before closing your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to calm down. “I need to get at the wound again so… shirt off.”

He ground his teeth but obeyed, pulling the shirt off. You sat down at the table and got the syringe ready and he stood beside you there and you had the strangest urge to kiss his stomach. You pressed your lips together instead.

“If you didn’t run off this would probably hurt less,” you said. “But the anesthetic might be wearing off already so… small pinch.”

You pressed the syringe into his skin and pushed down on the plunger. He flinched once and that was it.

“Just going to bandage you up,” you said, not waiting for a response.

“Why’d you come here,” Joel asked as you taped the bandage over his damaged skin. You looked up at him, frowning. His eyes were on yours, deep and warm and chocolate brown.

“You needed…”

“Don’t give me that,” he cut you off. “You could have fuckin’ left it, told you enough times that I don’t want shit to do with you now so why are you really here? Not like FEDRA was gonna come and check and make sure I was on their ordered drugs so what is it?”

“Do you really think I’d just let something happen to you?” You asked quietly. “You might not care if I live or die anymore but I care about you. I’m always going to care about you.”

You didn’t wait for.a response. You looked back to his stomach and finished taping the bandage in place before taking the pills out and setting them on table before getting up and pulling your jacket back on.

“Instructions are on the bottles,” you said. “Take all the antibiotics, every last one, I don’t care if you’re feeling well and your cut is magically healed, still take them. Change out the bandages every 24 hours for the first few days, come by the clinic if there’s a lot of blood or discomfort. Pain medication as needed. I’m sure you’ll just sell whatever’s left…”

You grabbed the now empty bag off the table and turned to go to the door but Joel’s hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back around. You frowned, looking at where he was touching you before looking back to him.

“Joel…”

“You really think I don’t care about you?” He asked, voice heated. “You really think I don’t give a shit? Hm?”

You shrank back from him as much as you could while he held you in place, his grip on you tight.

“Joel…” you said again but he cut you off.

“You think I don’t care if you live or die?” It took you a moment to realize that he didn’t sound angry. He sounded… hurt? Offended? Both? “Jesus…”

“You’re hurting me, Joel.”

He scowled but dropped your wrist.

“After everything I’ve done,” he snapped. “After everything we’ve been through, you think I don’t fuckin’ care?”

“Why would I think you care?” You tried to sound mad but you just sounded hurt, your voice quivering. “All you’ve done for years now is tell me how I hurt you, how you wish you’d never met me, how you don’t want to see me again! Even when you’ve done something that you say is for me or because of me you act like your obligated to me in some way but you’re not and I wish you’d just leave me alone! I can’t keep doing this with you, I’m so tired of being your burden, Joel!”

You tried to turn to go but his hands were on you again but on your shoulders this time, his fingers digging into your flesh there. His eyes searched yours for half a moment before he pulled you sharply to him, his hands flying from your shoulders to your face to tilt your head to just the right angle, gripping you tight and desperate, before his lips crashed into your own.

It took you a second to fully understand what was happening but your body responded before your mind. It might have been years since you last kissed Joel but your lips knew his. They conformed to his like the familiar ground they were, giving to the hot press of him as he licked into your mouth.

You moaned and wrapped your arms around his waist, forgetting, for a moment, that he was injured. He hissed in pain and you tried to pull back but his grip on you grew tighter, fingertips pressing into your skull. Your body curved against his and you were suddenly acutely aware that he was shirtless, that you could feel his skin on yours if you could just take your own shirt off, too.

His hold on you eventually loosened and he pulled back from you, the brown of his iris almost entirely swallowed by his pupil now as he panted for breath. His thumbs traced the arch of your cheekbones.

“I care,” he said, voice hungry and low. “I care more about you than about any other person left on this godforsaken planet…”

“Joel…” you were breathless, heat and tension pooling at your core.

“And I’m tired of tryin’ to stay away from you.”

He pulled you back against him, gently that time. His lips were soft on yours, his tongue tracing the seam of you until you opened for him. You could properly taste him now, the mint of his toothpaste and the bitter tang of liquor and the familiar flavor of his skin. You drank it up, needing it like water. His hands left your face, sliding down your body to your waist. He pulled at your shirt, separating from you just enough to pull it up and over your head, taking a moment to look down at your body, an expression of almost reverence on his face as he panted for breath.

Joel tugged you toward him again, his mouth quickly finding yours, as he unhooked your bra. He slid that off your body, too, and cradled you to him.

You moaned into his mouth, you couldn’t help it, as your arms went around his neck. His skin was everywhere, so soft and so warm and just like you remembered. He felt so good against you, like home, and the ache of missing him flared to life inside your chest, sharp and cruel.

Part of you knew you should put a stop to this now, before it went any further. He was only going to push you away again, just like he had after Boston. It was only going to hollow you out and leave you feeling more desperately alone than ever.

But you couldn’t resist him. You’d missed him too much over the years, he was too much a part of you to ever dream of pushing him away. You needed this. You needed him.

You let him guide you toward the couch, his fingers prying at the button of your jeans before pushing those and your underwear down your body, too. You stepped out of them and your shoes together before Joel gently lowered you, completely bared to him, to the rough, aging fabric of the couch. You watched as he stood over you, your eyes wide, as he opened his own pants, freeing his cock and swiping his thumb over his leaking tip before stroking himself in long, slow strokes.

“Tell me you want this,” his voice trembled. “We can stop right now…”

“I need you,” you cut him off with a needy whisper. “Please.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. He shoved his pants and underwear down before he nudged your legs apart and settled between them. He gripped the root of his thick, heavy cock and trailed his tip over your leaking slit, moaning as he did.

“Missed this wet little pussy,” he notched his head at your entrance before thrusting halfway inside you with a short, sharp stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, your back arching and fingers scrambling at the tattered upholstery. “Fuck, still so fuckin’ tight. Gotta be fuckin’ dripping for me or I’d never get inside you…”

He pulled back just a little, his thumb finding your clit and pressing into you there, working you in a slow circle. He thrust back into you, a little further this time.

“You get this soft and hot and wet for anyone else?” He asked, a possessive edge to his voice as his eyes ranged over your naked body. “Or you save that just for me?”

“Just for you,” you didn’t care that you sounded desperate and pathetic. You just needed him inside of you, filling you totally. “It’s all for you, I’ve always been all for you.”

“You all mine, Baby?” He asked, pulling back and thrusting deeper. “This little pussy all mine?”

“Yes,” you rocked your hips up against him but he pressed down on you, holding you in place and making you whimper. “Fuck, please…”

“How about the rest of you?” He asked, his hand leaving your clit as he lowered himself onto you. His skin was on yours, the plush swell of his stomach against you, his chest tight to your own. His hand came up to brush your hair back and cradle the crown of your head, his thumb tracing over you there. His eyes searched yours and, for the first time in years, you saw the Joel you’d fallen in love with so long ago. The quiet strength of him, the gentle care, the fierce love, the raw and aching whole of him there with nothing holding him back. “Want all of you, want that so much more than your perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

“Joel…”

“Say you’re mine,” he thrust deeper and you keened at the feel of him inside you, so close to having all of him within you where you’d known he belonged from the first time you’d taken him into yourself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you breathed. “I promise, you can’t lose me.”

He pulled back a little and you whimpered at the loss.

“Say you’ll let me protect you,” he thrust in, almost to the root this time, and held himself there. Your channel tightened around him.

“Joel,” you were having a hard time remembering how to say anything but his name, that single word the most vital one you’d ever known. “Please…”

“Tell me,” he ground himself against you, his skin on your clit, his cock pressing into your most sensitive places. “Let me take care of you, protect you. Say it.”

“You can protect me,” your hands found their way to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin there. “You can take care of me, I promise…”

“Let me love you,” he pulled back again but it was his words and not how he was moving inside you that made you gasp. “Say it. Tell me I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.”

You reached up and gently traced his hairline before threading your fingers through his curls, your eyes on his.

“I haven’t been the one stopping you from loving me,” you whispered.

“I never stopped,” he rocked himself part way into you again before pulling back. “Always loved you, always. But I need it to be safe, I can’t love you without it destroyin’ me if it’s not. Please, baby. Tell me. Tell me I can love you.”

“You can love me, Joel,” you said softly. “It’s safe. I’m safe.”

He kissed you, his mouth claiming yours and he pressed all the way inside you then, making your back arch and legs go tight around his hips. You moaned against his lips as he held himself deep within you for a moment before pulling back again.

It might have been years but your body knew Joel’s. You knew just how to take him and he knew just how to make you come, his hips grinding down into you when he was fully seated inside of your tight channel, making his cock tease your most tender places while his hips worked your clit. He fucked you deep and hard and greedy, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he wanted to lay claim to all of you.

The tight band of pleasure inside of you wound tighter and tighter until it snapped when he was pressed deep, your walls fluttering over him. He moaned against your lips and fucked you through it, never slowing, never letting up, making it so your orgasm never really subsided. It just rolled into building the next one until he pulled his desperate and needy mouth from yours.

“Not gonna last, Baby,” he ground himself deeper, as if to make his point. “Where -”

“Inside me,” you panted. “I need to feel you, please don’t leave, please, inside me, please…”

He kissed you again, fucking you a little harder and faster, driving the band of pleasure tighter and higher until you felt him press deep and pulse inside you, triggering your next orgasm.

You came with him, your pussy rippling over him as he throbbed, emptying himself into you.

His body went slack for a moment before he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes returning to their normal color. They looked over your face for a moment before locking onto your own and you had a moment of fear that the walls would go up again. That the cold, disconnected Joel who had taken over since he’d come to the QZ would be back. But his eyes stayed soft and open and warm, his large palm still cradling the top of your head.

“Tell me you meant all that,” you whispered even though you were afraid of what the answer was.

“Oh, Baby.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead before trailing his nose over your own. “I meant every word. I promise.”

You smiled, looking into Joel’s eyes and realizing that, even though you were still stuck inside the QZ, you were right where you belonged.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #lavender #smut fic #For You

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jamiewintons · 9 months

Text

Good Enough To Eat (OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji/F!Reader)

Summary: You and your boyfriend Sanji end up spending some time alone in the kitchen of Baratie.

Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY), public/semi public sex, praise kink, ‘good girl’ kink, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering.

A/N: Hey guys! My first non-Mat fic in literal years! This wasn’t meant to end up so long (not that 1400 words is that long) but I got a bit carried away. It’s really just all vibes. Please know that I’ve never seen the One Piece anime or read the manga, so this is based purely on the live action series. Hope you enjoy!! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated :)

Word Count: 1402

Sanji Tag List: No one yet! (Fill out this form to join!)

~~~

"You look good enough to eat, darling," Sanji told you as he ran his hands up and down your legs, giving you that easy, confident smile that always made your heart melt. The feeling of his strong, talented hands against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs made you shudder, and Sanji’s smile only grew as he sensed your arousal.

You were seated on the counter in the kitchen of Baratie, with Sanji kneeling on the floor between your legs. You knew that the two of you shouldn’t have been doing this here — you couldn’t count the amount of times that you got told off by Zeff for making out in the pantry, and you weren’t exactly looking for a repeat of that — but once Sanji kissed you and ever so gently pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together and his hands holding your hips, you knew that there was no way you were going to say no.

And now here you were, a complete flustered mess, although Sanji had barely even touched you yet. He was just like that; he could drive you insane with desire with just a simple touch, or even a look, and the worst part was, he knew what he did to you. Sanji laughed quietly as he felt your body quiver while his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Oh, darling, you’re so needy," he teased, closing his eyes as he savoured the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. At a snail’s pace he moved further up your leg, until he was mere inches away from the place you needed him most. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

"Please," you sighed, and Sanji laughed once again, though this time it sounded more like a mere exhalation. "Sanji… please."

"Patience," he told you, before moving to your other thigh and repeating the same routine of peppering kisses all over it until you were whimpering beneath his ministrations. "Let me worship your beautiful body the way you deserve."

You closed your eyes, your entire body tingling as your arousal grew to levels you never knew you were even capable of feeling. Though you couldn’t see them, you just knew that beneath your dress your panties were already completely soaked through. You wanted Sanji to just get to the point and give you what you needed already, but you knew that he was right, and that the anticipation, the build-up would ensure the end result was even more wonderful. Just like with food, Sanji would tell you.

When you felt Sanji’s hands slip beneath the hem of your dress, that was when your eyes shot back open. He slowly pushed it up, revealing your cotton panties. "You’re absolutely soaked for me, darling." Even if you weren’t looking at him, you’d be able to tell that he was smirking by the tone in his voice - a mix of smugness and reverence. He brought his thumb to the front of your panties, gently teasing the wet patch on the fabric and making you whimper. "So sensitive, sweetheart. You must be really worked up."

"Well, you have been at this for at least an hour," you complained, trying to sound firm but your voice came out shaky and desperate. Sanji pressed a little harder, and you let out another soft noise.

"It’s not been quite that long, but I’ll forgive you. I’m sure you’re having a hard time concentrating," Sanji said with a self-satisfied grin, before hooking his fingers into the waist of your panties and slowly pulling them down your legs. Without the pesky fabric in the way, your arousal was even more obvious, and Sanji’s eyes lit up as he saw the physical proof of how much he affected you. "Remember when I said you looked good enough to eat?"

With that, Sanji pulled you a little closer to the edge of the counter you were perched on. He leaned in and ran his tongue between your swollen lower lips, a slow lick from your entrance up to your aching clit that made your entire body shudder. The sound that came out of your mouth was somewhere between a moan and a sigh of relief, and it made Sanji let out yet another breathless laugh.

He focused on your clit, alternating between quick licks with the tip of his tongue and slow, languid strokes using the entire organ. Your fingers came to rest on top of Sanji’s head as he pleasured you, threading through the soft blond strands and tugging lightly. This only encouraged him to double down his efforts, following your moans and whimpers to find the best way to please you.

"You taste incredible, darling. Better than anything I’ve ever tasted," Sanji whispered, his words sounding like warm honey, as he pulled his mouth away from your pussy. But he wasn’t idle for long, because only a few seconds later he grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders before diving back in to eat you out with even more enthusiasm.

"O-oh fuck, Sanji… feels so good," you gasped out, your thighs shaking as Sanji vigorously devoured you like he was a starved man and you were the first food he’d encountered in weeks. You’d never felt as good in your life as you did with Sanji, he was as much of a talented lover as he was a chef, and you thanked your lucky stars every day that you got to be with him.

"That’s it, good girl," Sanji praised gently, those simple words making your pleasure intensify and your hips buck against his face. You then felt his fingers teasing at your entrance, and let out a gasp as he pushed two inside your fluttering walls. "Just sit back and let me take care of you."

Your breathing was getting heavier, you quiet moans becoming louder and more desperate as Sanji worked magic on you with his tongue and fingers. He crooked his digits to stimulate your g-spot, and you knew that it wouldn’t be long until you fell apart for him. "S-Sanji, I’m… I’m close…"

Sanji would have known that you were on the brink, even if you hadn’t said anything, but fuck, did he love to hear you say it. To hear your voice so desperate for him, all because of him. Honestly, it turned him on more than anything possible could. His cock throbbed within his trousers with the thought of being inside of you again, but right now was about you, not about him, and he wanted to give you everything that you needed.

When he felt your pussy beginning to tighten around his fingers, he looked up at you, seeing your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. But more than anything, he wanted to see your eyes, to see how they widened as he brought you to complete ecstasy. "Look at me, darling. I want you to look at me when I make you cum," he told you in a tone that was both gentle and firm, one that you couldn’t help but listen to.

When you looked down at Sanji’s face, the sight of his blue-green eyes darkened with lust — along with how he massaged your sweet spot with his fingers and sucked on your swollen clit — was enough to push you over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm. You cried out his name, your hips bucking and your velvety walls contracting around his fingers. Sanji guided you through your high, not stopping until you went completely limp, and he made sure he was standing to catch you when you did.

"You did so well for me, darling," he praised, one of his hands threading though your hair as he pressed gentle kisses to your flushed face. Once he was sure you could keep yourself upright, he took the fingers of his other hand — the one that he had been using to pleasure you — into his mouth, licking off your essence and moaning as if he had just eaten a delicious meal. "Let’s go back to my room, sweetheart. I’m not quite finished enjoying you tonight."

You allowed Sanji to lead you out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, his hand firmly held in yours, feeling your heart fluttering with excitement. You already knew that you were going to struggle to walk tomorrow, and you couldn’t wait.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #opla imagine #opla fanfiction #mari's stuff #nsft text #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #I hope you guys like this 🙈

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whimsyfinny · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean… this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

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Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

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Up Next:

Chapter 3

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #enemies to lovers #Dean Winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn

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musings-of-a-college-dork · 1 year

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRwEC2cV/

You should do a fic based off this with Eddie Munson

OMG YES YES YES YES YES!

Me or D&D?

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Word count: roughly 1.2K

Eddie wants to work on his Hellfire Campaign…but his girlfriend has other plans…

Warnings: Slight NSFW (reader flashes Eddie), terms of endearment (sweetheart, baby), reader has boobs, use of Y/N, silly slight NSFW fluff!

Author’s note: Ok so I received an ask based on this tik tok for Eddie and it literally haunted my thoughts all day today so I knew I had to write it asap! It’s so very on-brand for him and anyway to the anonymous user who requested it THANK YOU SO MUCH and I hope this fits the vibe you were going for!

Y/N let out a sigh as she finally flipped off the shower. It had been a long day so the very first thing she wanted to do upon reaching Eddie’s was to take a shower, something he happily granted her. He had a new plot to work on for D&D something about the cultists.

“You see they need a motive,” he had been explaining on the car ride over, so animatedly she wondered if he was even looking at the road. “That’s been the issue! There hasn’t been a motive-”

“Eddie! Eyes on the road!” Y/N scolded as she clutched onto her seat.

“And before that was fine,” he rambled on, no change to his driving whatsoever, “But now we’re far enough down the line that they’re starting to question me and the one thing I won’t tolerate is being questioned!”

“The one thing?” she had teased with an eye roll. "The list I could come up with of things you don't tolerate. Basketball players, school in general, any music that you deem 'fake music'-"

“Oh come on!" Eddie exclaimed, driving a bit too close to the edge of the curb for Y/N's comfort before swerving back over, "Some music is just bad and you know it!” He shot her a little glance and a smile, “And I always let you question me! It’s just those idiots I don’t take it from!”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded with a little laugh.

And so needless to say as soon as the pair had entered the house Y/N had set down her things, heading for the shower and Eddie had thrown himself right back into his campaign. Hence that was exactly where she found him as she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and feeling remarkably refreshed.

Eddie, much to Y/N's amusement, was laying stomach down on the trailer floor surrounded by guidebooks, maps he had painstakingly sketched himself with intricate levels of detail, and pages upon pages of notes.

“Eddie, I’m gonna get dressed so we can watch a movie, ‘kay?” Y/N called as she watched him work, not even looking up from the page he was holding as he chewed his pencil in his mouth.

“Mhm,” he replied absence-mindly, obviously not hearing a word she said.

“I’m going to order from Enzo’s, do you want anything?” She said as she walked into his bedroom, searching for one of his shirts and her pants from earlier.

“Oh wow,” he replied from the other room causing her to let out a soft chuckle. I could say literally anything right now and he wouldn’t clock it.

“I’ve decided I’m going to go to school naked tomorrow,” she called, glad Wayne wasn’t home to hear her jests since he’d definitely have some questions.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” That got a genuine laugh out of her as she pulled on his shirt and her pants, using a mirror to make sure her hair wasn’t going to dry funny…but looking at herself in the mirror gave her an idea. A small smirk came to her face at the thought as her hand trailed down to mess with the hem of her shirt.

I wonder what will get his attention…?

With that, Y/N turned and headed toward the room. When she arrived, Eddie hadn’t moved an inch but his position had changed. Pencil still tapping against his lips, he was holding one of the maps now, seemingly muttering something to himself that was too low for her to hear.

“Eddie?” She asked as she slowly made her way over to him, double-checking all the blinds were closed.

“Mmm?” He hummed, still not looking at her as he scanned the man for some invisible linking detail to fully tie together his campaign. She shook her head with a smile as she came to kneel close enough to him that she knew she was in his visible but far enough away to not disrupt his current chaos. After having seen him fuss at the Hellfire members one too many times for exactly that, she knew it would only deter her plan and she didn't have time for that.

“Eddie, baby,” she cooed, “Before you get too deep into…all of this, would you just take one second to look at me?” She watched as her words this time did seem to register just a bit since she was now closer in proximity and she received her reward.

“Yea-” Eddie’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped ever so slightly as he turned to see his girlfriend on her knees, in her jeans and one of his shirts…well sort of in one of his shirts. Because the second he turned to face her, Y/N lifted the hem to reveal her boobs, her boobs without a bra. His face instantly lit up into a large smile as he processed exactly what he was seeing, the pencil still in his grip as he grinned like an idiot.

He took a moment to look back at the map he had been examining but couldn’t help to look back at her as well, causing Y/N to beam as she continued to hold up the shirt.

“So…” she prompted in a sing-songy tone, “Would you rather do that right now,” she gestured with her free hand to the map, “Or, would you rather do this?” Eddie gasped at her question and fully turned to look at her with a look of mock hurt and disbelief written across his face.

“What kind of a choice is that?” He scoffed, making her giggle. “What kind of question is that?” He scrunched his nose making her laugh harder, drawing his eyes to the way her chest moved as she did. A smirk came to his face as he looked back into her eyes, holding onto the map as he had before she had effectively flashed him. “I’ve been waiting to work on this,” He held up the map to her but kept his gaze locked with hers, still smiling, “alllllll day,” his dramatics had her giggling again as he shook his head, eyes flickering between her and her boobs still on full display, “Damn Y/N, what kind of a question is that?” The girl had a little huff of her own and faked a pout as she looked at him, making her eyes especially wide and pitiful.

“So…” She began to lower her shirt down, keeping that same pouty look, “You picked-”

“No, no, no!” He said quickly as he threw down the map and pencil, effectively leaping to tackle his girlfriend into the carpet, sending them both sprawling to the ground. Y/N let out a little squeal which dissolved into giggles as he laid his head right on top of her chest. Eddie’s hands trailed up her sides as he pulled her close to him.

“You better be damn proud of yourself L/N,” he said with a teasing scold as he nestled right up into her as her body shook with laughter, “You’re the only person on the face of the entire Earth, in the whole frickin’ universe, that I’d set aside D&D for!”

“For me?” Y/N asked as she tapped her finger to her lips, pretending to think before looking down at him with a smirk, “Or for my boobs?”

“Hmmm…” He returned her smirk as he moved his hand and began to push up the shirt she was wearing once again, “Well L/N…you’ve got me there.”

“Eddie!!”

“You! Obviously you!”

Yay!!! Omg, my first request! Y’all, I can’t even tell you how excited I was when I got this! First off, the tik tok is absolutely adorable, and second off, I was so excited to write it because I could see exactly how it would play out with the two of them in my brain! Eek anyway, to whoever requested it, THANK YOU SO MUCH! It was so fun to write and I hope it’s what you hoped it would be! Anyway, requests are open anytime y’all!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #requests open #request #oneshot #x reader

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writersblockedx · 1 year

Text

The Things we do

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader Summary - When Kaz finds out a rivial gang has taken you hostage, he'll stop at nothing to find you again. Warnings - Angst, violence, torture, wounds, blood, hurt/comfort vibe Words - 2.8K

Masterlist

Kaz didn't know where you were. And, even worse, neither did you.

What you did know however: your head was pounding, the room was dark and you were tied to a chair. Your head dragged up, blood trickling from your cut lip as you faced your captor. She was a mean face. Her eyes flooded with fury that you doubted ever left and she bred the sense of vex with every step she took. If anyone was to be a psycho kidnapper, it would have been her.

"Y/n Y/l/n." A voice called your name like it was illegal, like it was something to be dragged through the dirt.

Your captor took a step back, revealing the man who was sitting in the chair behind her. In no way was he rough around the edges like the girl was. In fact, he wore a suit to fit, his lips moulded into something he seemed to use as a weapon. And despite her cut lip and likely bruised features, her head tilted and she pushed her luck. "Nice to know you know, because I've got no idea who you are." Maybe had you not just been kidnapped, you might have been more composed.

The man stood and she felt herself lean as far back in her chair as she was able. "It doesn't matter who I am." He said; his voice so monotone for the context of the situation. "I just need to know about you."

You weren't so sure where this was headed. Your mind was still trying to catch up with the punches you had just endured, attempting to understand where you were and how you were in fact going to get out of it. "Me?" You reiterated, flashing some puppy dog eyes you knew weren't going to work. But it was worth a try in this situation.

He nodded and then a word slipped from his lips. Just one word and that was all you needed to know you were in the shit now. "Crow." Them puppy dog eyes slipped away as easily as they had settled. Suddenly, you came to realise the severity of the situation and you questioned if you would be able to get out of it. The suit man looked over to the captor, nodding his head as if giving a silent command.

Like that, just as he turned his back and started walking away, a fist came flying. The knuckles of the woman's palm cracked against your cheeks with a thud. You had groaned but didn't dare say a word. You glanced back up at her through the lingering bruises. "Are the rest of you crows at the crow club?"

"Why do you want to know?" You should have known where speaking back was going to get you.

Just as quickly as them words had left your lips, another punch came crashing at your jaw. And you struggled with that one. It erupted a groan as you settled within the pain that plagued you. "What about Kaz? He's the boss right?" She continued to interrogate.

You gazed over at her through stern, mean eyes. "You can punch me till I'm bloody, I'm not telling you anything."

This time, a punch didn't follow. Instead, you watched as the woman wandered around the chair you were glued to. She walked over to a side table, retrieving a small box. It wasn't until she opened the box that you grew nervous. There were several tools. Many of them rusty and blunt but in the hand of your kidnapper, still rather painful. She took one of the bluntest knives, one that had rusted so much it was burnt and brown. With that in hand, she wandered around once again.

"Anything you went to get off your chest now?" Asked the woman.

You could feel your breath itch in your throat, feeling her shadow hover right over your shoulder. It was daunting but didn't stop you as you quipped back, "Do your worse." And she certainly did.

She took the blade. At first, it brushed over the prickles of your skin, then, within a flash, you felt it jab into your shoulder. With that, you let out a piercing scream. The metal seeming to have shot so deep into your body it felt as if it were scraping against your bone. You didn't have to look to know it was bleeding. By the time the weapon had dug into your skin, the blood was dripping down towards your elbow.

The woman took a firm grip over the blade. With every single, slight touch it was painful. Just the brush of her fingers against the metal had felt agonising. So when she took a hold of it, a groan escaped your lips. She leaned over the bleeding shoulder, "You're gonna tell me what I need to know." Her voice was a whisper but it felt deafening in your ear.

Your breath was uneven and, just as you were about to catch it, she shoved the blade down further. Another scream erupted from your lips. This one louder and much more of an echo. And once more, she leaned over your shoulder, "Where does Kaz keep the money?"

Once you let out a sigh, you looked over at her, "I'm not telling you." You were stern in your words even if everything in your body already wanted to give in.

This was what being a crow was. It was criminal. It was getting beating up and getting bloody, but it was dealing with that. And so you would. At least, you would try. Because when she even grasped the metal, you were regretting your decisions. "Wait, wait!" She stopped; so did the pain. You took a breath, trying to gather your thoughts that the pain had cut through. "Please..." You couldn't imagine anything worse than another touch from that blade.

She asked the same question: "Where does Kaz keep the money?"

A long moment followed. One in which you knew you were going to give in, even if it killed you to betray Kaz like that. Your fellow crow, your boss, the man who had took you in when you had nothing. "There's a safe. It's under his desk in the office. The office is upstairs in the crow club." Like it was nothing, you spilled everything.

"See," She paused and in one swift movement, tore the knife from your skin. Another scream erupted. But it was the last one you would have to endure. "Wasn't that difficult, was it?" She had no idea what you were in for with Kaz now. "Now, when's this office left empty?"

You knew this plan was so this gang could get their sticky fingers on Kaz's money. And maybe you should have cared more to not spill all this information considering Kaz paid your wage. But alas, the fear of the pain was seeming to pull the words from your lips, "When there's-"

You didn't know why or what had happened at first, only that your kidnapper had fallen right in front of you. Then you spotted the knife in her back. You almost couldn't believe it at first. Well, not until your head snapped up to figure that was wandering from the doorway. "Inej?" The woman removed the scarf that masked her face as she rushed forward without another word.

She went around straight away, her hands reaching out and untying the rope which bound you. "Where is she?" Came another voice which boomed through the building. A wave of guilt passed you as you came to recognise the voice: Kaz.

"In here!" Replied Inej.

And like that, the man came through. His eyes pooled with sympathy, completely unaware of how you had just betrayed him. Not that he had noticed. In that moment, Kaz had never felt such relief. Over the period you had been lost, he hadn't felt himself breathe. He sent Inej and Jesper left, right and centre until finally, they got a hit. A rival gang that barely hand enough bullets to take down the three of them. He couldn't care who had taken you. It could have been the king himself and he would have still swug through battlefields, explored every inch of this world, whatever it took just so it could get to you.

Now, with your eyes interwinding with his, he rushed to you. Inej had only just let the rope fall from your body and it was suddenly being engulfed by Kaz. At first, it had shocked you. Then you soon settled into the comfort which was ever so familiar. With your head situated on his shoulder, your gaze glanced to the doorway, finding Jesper stood there. He too just as relieved, taking in the sight of his boss and his friend tangled within the comfort of one another. Jesper knew that Kaz needed that hug just as much as you - if not more so.

When he pulled away, you were met with that worrisome gaze which seemed to devour you. "Can you stand?" Kaz questioned.

And while you couldn't exactly give him a reply, you nodded and that was enough. His hands came around, taking a hold of your own as he helped you to your feet. He guided you towards the exit, not daring to let his touch fall. About half way there, you both stopped. There came the sound of a thud from behind you. It wasn't until you turned, finding that Inej had pulled her knife from your captor's back that you came to realise why. Of course she taken her knife back. No one chose to comment. Instead, you found that it was normal and continued walking, following Jesper.

By the time you made it home, the Crow Club was empty. It wasn't until later that you would come to realise Kaz had closed the club, needing the empty space to focus on finding you. Something he was thankful for now he had you in his arms.

Once you got home, Jesper pulled a chair up for you, forcing you to sit down as he tended to the wound plaguing your shoulder. Inej was sat on a table across from you, sharpening a knife while Kaz was standing behind you. And for a moment, it was all silent. All their attention was focused on you and the wound which was buried deep into your skin. Yes, it felt as bad as it looked. "You sure you're okay?" Inquired Jesper as he pulled your shirt down for easier access.

You didn't bare look at any of them, knowing the pity you were likely to receive. "I'll be fine, Jesper." You replied without much emotion in your tone.

Jesper gave a concerned look to the man standing behind you. Something of which you had missed, too busy replying the memory of the knife in your shoulder to take note. "Okay, okay." Jesper said. "But just know," He paused as he gathered his needle and thread, "This isn't going to be pretty."

You didn't look to him as you answered, "Just clean it up, will you?" You weren't so much in the mood for Jesper's playful mood like you normally were. "I don't want an infection and a stab wound."

And like that, Jesper's lips stayed sealed as he gathered his items, staring at the wound as he attempted the best way to tackle it without hurting you so much. "What were they asking you?" Inej spoke up as her head lifted to meet yours. "Did you tell them anything?" That question made you wince.

Jesper scoffed, "It doesn't matter anyway, you killed em'." He did make a good point there, something you were silently thankful for.

"And by the looks of things," At the sound of Kaz's voice, you finally turned, meeting his gaze which seemed attached to the wound sitting on your shoulder. "You didn't tell them anything either."

Had it not been for the groan that came with the needle making contact with your shoulder, you might have said. Instead, you sucked in a breath before letting out a, "Jesper." in a snap.

"Sorry," He apologised. "I did say its not gonna be pretty." And with that, he started to thread you skin back together like it were clay.

"Do you know who it was?" Inej continued to interrogate.

You thought on it for a moment but with your pounding head, you couldn't come up with much. "No." You said first. "He wore a suit like he was trying to be more fancy than he was."

"That's it?" Critiqued Jesper from behind you, his snooty tone prompting you to gaze over at him. "He was too fancy for a suit? That's what you gathered?"

Your glare turned deathly, "I was a bit preoccupied with the fact they kept punching and threatening me...obviously." You agrued.

"Careful," Said Jesper. "Don't forget whose holding this needle." The small prick of metal glistened in his hand before your eyes rolled, turning back around.

"So we have no idea who these people are." Kaz concluded as his gaze jumped from you, something which had only enhanced that ever-heavy feeling of guilt which burdened you.

A loud exhale, almost loud enough to be classed as a sigh, came from Inej, "Suppose it's a good thing you didn't tell them anything the-"

"Ouch!" Your voice shot through the club.

All eyes came to you and your burning stare that was being pointed at Jesper. He had slipped. Only the smallest of bits but still, you had snapped at him like that. And what was worse, your anger didn't die down. Instead, you stood abruptly, tearing the needle from further patching up your wound. "Y/n-" Kaz started but you were already walking away.

And without even looking back at him, you said, "I'm fine." And continued on, eager for some privacy where the guilt of spilling your guts didn't linger.

You escaped into your room, taking in the air like it was fresh, like it wasn't intoxicated like the rest of the club was. The room was lonely, and it was empty, free of anyones opinion and judgement. With tears pricking your pupils, you wandered over to the mirror. Your shoulder took all your attention. Sure, Jesper had sewed up about half of it but the wound was still sharp and deep into your skin. It's edges ridgid and screaming to be tended to.

With a huff, you pulled your t-shirt back up, groaning at the pain which came with the contact. And you continued on with shakey legs and even shakier breath as if you could continue on. You soon came to realise it wouldn't be that easy.

The door clicked open and you tensed, suddenly appreciating your back was facing the door. The tears were easily about to slip from your eyes and that was something no one needed to see. "I told you I was fine." You said, sucking in a sharp breath that you preyed gave you the air you needed to not let those tears fall.

"You're not meant to be." Only then did you come to realise the intruder in your room was none other than Kaz Brekker. And his voice was enough to prompt you to turn, meeting his soft features which made you weak. "Whatever you went through, it was always going to be painful."

He had no idea what was truly the cause of your pain. "I've been beaten before Kaz." You argued.

He took a cautious step into the room, knowing you could force him out at any given moment. "None of us expect you to be okay, this wasn't just any normal beating, Y/n." He went on, providing comfort which would normally be accepted. But considering he didn't know the full story, it was a struggle to accept it.

Until, in a rushed decision, you gambled your whole relationship with Kaz. "I don't care that they hurt me, that they punched, stabbed, bled me like I was a doll. I couldn't get less." That part was true. "But I just- I had to."

Kaz's brows knitted, "Had to what?" He queried.

"I had to tell them." Like that, the words hung in the air. "I had to tell them everything." The tears finally started slipping until they were streaming down your cheeks.

The moment Kaz caught sight of that, he rushed over. And just as needy as before, he engulfed your body into his own. "Hey, it's okay." He assured. "All that matters is that you're safe."

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xmalereader · 1 year

Text

Simon Riley X Tall! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: I caved into this request even though I wasn’t accepting any but couldn’t help but get it done. I tried to give it batman and catwomen vibes but failed miserably. (￣∀￣) anyways, enjoy this shot that I didn’t really try my best on but did what I could to get the story going.

Request: Ghost X Tall! Male Reader that can speak Spanish (it's hella sexy) and tries to teach Ghost some too...

Warnings: Fluff, Spanish language, flirting, masked reader, tall reader, missions, hacker, pas memories, learning, ghost falls for reader, mentions of Alejandro’s past, language, semi short shot, code name: rouge.

Word count: 3.2k

Tags: @guardkeywolf

Laswell had a mission for the a team, fairly simple but also risky. She thought the process would be a lot faster than she thought but instead took notice that the mission she needed to complete was going to be a lot harder than she thought and needed all the help that she could get. She didn’t need strong men but intelligence and the last intelligent person they had was Graves until the betrayal. His skills would’ve come in handy if he didn’t betray them along with Shepard. She instead had to look for an alternate route, one that she felt hesitant to use.

When she arrived in base she was able to get everyone to meet her, standing around a table as the gives everyone a nod of greeting before starting. “Thank you for accepting my offer, I’ve been tracking down Finch for years and had a hard time tracking him until now.” She holds out a folder and sets it in front of everyone, opening and showing them a picture of their target. “Finch operates in Money Laundering. He’s in charge of cleaning the money in order for it to be used and harder to trace.” She explains, setting out the file. “He helps big leaders, gangs, drug dealers, cartels—whoever the hell he can get in contact with, he will work for them. If we can get him then we can get all the intel that we need from people he might know. Target must come back alive.” Her last weird date stern and serious, she couldn’t lose this man nor can she risk getting him killed.

“Very well,” Price is the first to speak up. “How do you want to do this?”

Laswell nods. “Finch will be arriving to a casino in Las Vegas—good place to deal with money when their are so many people around gambling for it. You’ll all need to be undercover, blend in with the crowd and find a way to keep his guards away from him.” She explains, pointing at a few pictures of Finch’s guards that followed him everywhere he went. “Here’s the tricky part, he has total control of surveillance. If he takes notice of anything then it’s over for us.”

“So, how do we get through without getting caught by cameras?” Soap is the one to ask this time, raising a brow at her as she softly grins at the man. “I know someone who can help us.” She digs into her bag and pulls out another folder, showing the boys before sliding it over to Price first, who takes the folder and reads through it.

“He goes by Rouge—slippery bastard but will help us. He’s a hacker, can easily slip in out of anything.” She stands up straight and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them carefully, passing the folder to each other as they read through the information and background. “He first hacked into the pentagon at the age of twelve, later at the age of fourteen he would hack into many wealthy companies and steal their personal information along with selling it. The kid got 5 companies to file for bankruptcy and nearly a hundred people were arrested for illegal information.”

Ghost takes the file next, eyes scanning the information as they land on a small picture clicked on the corner, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the other man’s features. Before he could hand the folder back to Laswell she speaks up fast. “Ghost, your mission is to keep a close eye on him and to protect him at all costs.” She refers to the hacker.

Ghost grunts, setting the folder down on the table. “Does he know how to use a gun?” He wants to make sure that the kid could at least defend himself or know how to fight. “He can handle a gun.” Laswell smiles back at ghost before she looks at everyone else. “Very well, he will be arriving tomorrow. Be prepared.” She instructed before giving them one last nod and leaving the room, giving them time to get ready for their new mission.

—

Simon wasn’t too happy that he’d have to sit back and take care of a new recruit. He wasn’t one to babysit rookies but Laswell had pulled him aside after their meeting and told him that their hacker was a slippery one and loved to escape their grip. The kid was smart and could easily steal millions without anyone noticing. Simon questioned himself as to why they haven’t arrested the rookie or perhaps kept a close eye on him? He wasn’t given a reason and he’d rather not ask why. Simon stayed back at base to wait for the hackers arrival while the others got ready, it was until Soap came out to join him when he asked. “Think the new guy knows what he’s doing?”

Simon sighs deeply and shrugs. “Not sure, let’s hope he doesn’t mess up our mission.” He wouldn’t want to deal with the rookies mess if he were to create one for himself. Both him and Soap watched as a plane comes down, landing near them as the two stood back and watched, the door slide open. The first thing the two men took notice of their new teammate was his height, he was around the same height as ghost, perhaps slightly taller by a few inches but he didn’t seem too intimidate. In fact, the new rookie wore all black with a case in hand, grinning at the two as he approached them. “Gentleman.” His voice was soft but also filled with a teasing tone, ghost knew he wasn’t going to like him.

Soap was the first to speak up. “Good to see ya! I’m soap, you’re the one they call rouge?” He questions. While the other nods. “Some call me Rouge others call me Fox.” He suddenly says, giving soaps hand a shake and eyeing Ghost up and down before focusing back to soap. “Fox?”

“You’ll know when you see my work.” Rouge answers, hand on his hip as he looks over his shoulder to see the other team members exiting the building. The first thing rouge does when the rest of the group approaches is pull Alejandro into a hug while the other laughs and slaps his hand against his shoulder. “Look at you! Portándote bien?”

“Como no?”

The two laugh at each other before pulling away. Simon glanced at the two, obviously knowing that the two had some sort of connection to each other but what surprised ghost the most was that the rookie spoke Spanish. He didn’t sound like he was learning, more like he was raised with it as a slight accent is hard in his words.

“It’s been too long, causing trouble again?” Alejandro added while Y/n smiles widely at his old friend. “I’m always causing trouble, because of my trouble I’m here to help you boys. Laswell caught me up on everything and thinks I can help with getting your guy.” He waves his case around, showing them his tools. “Good, we need someone like you.” Alejandro chuckles, giving the other a large smile.

“Good, now.” Price speaks up from the group. “Laswell already gave us the plans, let’s get ready and start heading out. Ghost—you and rouge should head down to the casino first, get in and find a safe place to stay hidden while Rouge does his own magic.”

Rouge smirks. “Si, Señor.”

That gets everyone moving, separating into different vehicles that they plan to take to Vegas. Rouge follows ghost towards their own car, getting up front as he sets his case on his lap, smiling softly to himself as ghost sighs deeply. “Let’s get this done quickly.” He states, starting the car up and driving away from base while Rouge opens his case and pulls out his laptop.

He flips it open and tries away, chewing on his lip as he focused on getting through the building and perhaps a map of the building. Ghost would glance over to him every few seconds before asking. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking for a blind spot.” He mutters out, tilting his head to the side. “Hm, the bathroom is one but it’ll be too crowded—too many people will come and go. Perhaps the security room?”

“Too dangerous—we can’t get anyone else involved into our mission.”

“Fine.” He continues to check for any other blind spots, scanning the floor and frowning. “We can do the roof.” He points out. “There’s a skylight on the casino, big enough for us to stay hidden and no cameras up there. If their are guards then we simply take them down and I’ll be able to work on peace. No one will get in our way and I have a clear view of the floor below me.” He explains, showing Ghost his laptop and an image of the skylight.

Ghost only gives it a glance before agreeing to the idea. The other man smiles softly and returns back to typing as he checks for any other alternates in case the skylight doesn’t, jumping softly to himself as he mumbled under his breath. “Todavía no.” He sighs to himself before closing his laptop and slipping it back inside the case. Ghost side eyes him before focusing back on the road, his hand gripping the steering wheel and asks.

“How do you and Alejandro know each other?”

Rouge hums. “Oh? Estas curioso?” He raises a brow.

“No.”

Rouge laughs at his response, throwing his head back and smiling widely. “I helped me with some personal matters, we tend to get in debt with each other.” He doesn’t provide much detail about their relationship, keeping it a secret from him. He didn’t need to tell Ghost further details about his own personal life, it was dangerous and could get him caught if he were to do anything that was considered illegal. He’d rather be safe and not spread too much information about himself which is why his file was so small when Laswell presented it to the boys, only giving his code name along with his skills. The rest was either a mystery to everyone or perhaps a lie in order to keep his identity hidden.

“I’m guessing this personal matter was something illegal.” Ghost decides to speak up again, pulling rouge out of his thoughts as he turns to face the other. He shakes his head in response to ghosts statement. “It wasn’t bad, I was simply helping a friend.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Alejandro did teach me a few things—“ he laughs. “His mother taught me Spanish, she’d force me to speak it when I’m around her and I learned to speak it fluently. She’d also get pissed when Alejandro taught me how to swear around her.” It was a fond memory that he treasured. The sound of an elderly women cussing out her son as she waved a wooden spoon while chasing him around. The women may be old in age but she still had some stamina in her when it came towards disciplining her children.

“I’m trying to learn—been getting dragged around a lot in Mexico and had grown to the language.” Ghost admits.

This gets rouges attention. “Really? Perhaps I can teach you along the way.” He offers, sitting up in his seat and thinks. “You can understand it?”

“A little.”

“Perfect, how about I just speak it every once an awhile before switching back to English. I heard that it helps.”

Ghost thinks about the idea before agreeing with the other man. He’s been around the others for awhile that he’s grown to know a few Spanish words that were repeated around frequently. He understands the language but can’t speak it. In truth, he only asked to learn since he enjoyed the sound of the other man’s voice whenever he spoke the language, soft and seductive and it lured ghost to the man.

“Muy bien—“ Rouge checks the watch on his wrist. “En dos horas llegamos a Las Vegas. Once we get there I’ll make sure that we get inside undetected and onto the roof while the others get ready for tonight.” Rouge had seen the others disguise and how they had to blend in with the other guards or as civilians who were coming in to gamble while both he and ghost remained on the roof.

“You don’t wear a vest.” Ghost suddenly points out since he was wearing all black and some leather gloves sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t need it, el disfraz que yo tengo puesto es suficiente.” Rouge blended well in the shadows, staying hidden from the publics eyes. He could get the job done and escape without leaving a trace of himself behind. He made sure to make no mistakes when on the job.

—

When they arrived to the casino they made sure to park in the back, waiting quietly as they watched the others enter the casino. The streets of Vegas were full, everyone either drinking or spending their money while they gamble. Rouge wasn’t one for parties but he didn’t mind gambling for some money or just taking money from the rich.

Looking through his scope he watched as the group got inside, signaling that it was there turn to move. Rouge puts his scope away and turns to ghost. “Listo?” He asks and gets a nod in response. Rouge grins, slipping on his own face mask to cover up the bottom half of his face, holding his case close as the two step out of the car and into the dark alleyways. The streets were dark and everyone was too intoxicated to take notice of the two of them as they climbed onto the roof top.

Rouge is the first to reach the top, hiding in the dark as he checks for any guards. “Esta seguro.” He whispers to ghost who followed after him. The two moving low and quiet as they reach the skylight, below them is the casino and gives them both a good view of the entire place. He smiles under his own mask and turns to ghost, leaning close to the other man as he whispers near his ear.

“Keep an eye out, yo hago lo demás.”

His words cause a shiver to run down ghosts spine as he watched Rouge sit near the skylight and open his case, pulling out his laptop and hacking into security. “Child’s play.” Rouge scoffs, easily getting into the security and getting access to all cameras and security numbers. “Ya entre.” He shows his laptop to ghost, showing him the surveillance footage.

Ghost raised his brows, impressed by his work. “Didn’t think it would be that easy.”

“no siempre es fácil.”

Ghost holds his gun in hand, ready for anything. “Para ti si es.” His Spanish is a little choppy and with a hint of his accent. His sudden words surprise Rouge who's eyes widen as he chuckles, clapping his hands twice. “Mirate! Ya andas aprendiendo, mi fantasma.”

Ghosts face heats up at his last words. He coughs and clears his throat, focusing back on the mission as Rouge worked on the cameras. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and focused on the computer in-front of him. “You know—this guy your getting why not get him when he’s alone? He’s been around many places without guards but you pick the casino out of all places.”

“We need to make sure that we catch him in the act when he launders money. Who knows what else he’s doing.”

Rouge frowns deeply under his mask. “Yeah, who knows.” His eyes cast down, staring down at the casino and watched people gamble. He watched the rich gamble away their money that they had no need for. He’s seen the way they’ve handled their money, too much to us that instead of giving it to those in need they become selfish and keep it for themselves. He sighs deeply and turns back to the cameras and takes notice of their target while the boys made a move to get him. Rouge sets his laptop to the side and comes to a stand, getting ghosts attention. “Mi haces un favor?”

“What is it?”

Rouge moves past him, going around the skylight. “Can you stand here and keep an eye from here? I took notice of a few escape routes for our target and in case he takes one I want to make sure that you take notice.”

“Wouldn’t the cameras show you?”

“Their blind spots and I wouldn’t be able to see.” He responds back and watched as ghost walks over to him, standing in a new area while rouge grins under his mask. “Gracias.” He stood close to ghost as he whispered his gratitude to him. Ghost tries to focus on his task while Rouge goes back to his laptop on the other side of the skylight, picking it up and typing away as he listens to the comms.

He looks down below at the casino. “And…lights out.” He pressed a key on his laptop as the lights go dark and the room goes into chaos as everyone panics while the guards grow cautious of the lights going out. Their comms go off while ghost grows confused.

“Soap, do you copy? What’s going on down there!” He shouts into his comm but gets no response, he can hear them but they can’t hear him. “What—?” He looks up to see rouge by the edge of the roof, mask removed as he gives ghost a Cheshire grin. “Adois, mi fantasma.” He gives him a wink and jumps off the building, disappearing into the crowded streets blow a ghost cursed under his breath.

He checks his vest to see that his comm was turned off, he’d thought he had it one this whole time. He’s quick to turn the comms back on and quickly gets in touch with the others.

“Ghost, how copy? Dammit ghost are you there?” He hears Soap call for him.

He turns to his comm and glared, before he can respond back the lights are back on in the casino. He growls in anger. “Copy, rouge escaped.” Laswell had warned him.

“Hijo de puta.” He hears Alejandro sigh out in frustration through the comms. “Did we get finch?” Ghost asks the real important question, wanting to make sure that their target was alive.

“No, he escaped.” Said Soap.

Ghost huffs angrily, making his way towards the edge of the roof and to make his way down. Once he reaches the bottom of the steps he finds the car still in the same place, meaning that rouge had escaped by foot. He walks up to the car and pulls the door open, supposed to see Finch tied up and gagged on the passenger seat. The man is unconscious and with a note stuck to its forehead.

Ghost rounds the car and opens the door, removing the note and reading it to himself.

“Para mi fantasma.”

Ghost laughs, shaking his head as he comms the others and let’s them know that their target was secure and alive. He ignored their questions of disbelief through the comms and focused back on the note in his gloved hand. “Fucking hell.”

#male reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #Simon Riley x male reader #Simon Riley #games

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tangerinesilk · 10 months

Text

－ I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER

tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other.

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later.

word count ✷ 6k!

songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter

a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.

but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡

“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.”

Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.

“Well, Thomas said-”

“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”

Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.

“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.

“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-”

“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”

“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.

“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.

“No promises.” He replied before hanging up.

Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.

“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”

The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.

“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”

“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.

“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.

Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman.

He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.

“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.

“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.

“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”

“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.

“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.

The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”

His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.

He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”

“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.

As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.

Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.

“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.

Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.

“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.

“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”

He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”

“Will you just trust me?”

“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”

You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”

“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”

“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”

There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?

“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.

The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.

“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.

“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.

He nodded, “Good…”

Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.

“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.

With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek.

Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.

Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.

“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you.

You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.

He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.

“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.

“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”

Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.

“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”

He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”

You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.

With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.

“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.

“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.

He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.

“Are you sure?”

You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.

“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”

He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”

– – –

You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.

“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”

Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.

“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”

“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.

He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”

The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”

This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.

“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”

“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.

The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”

“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”

“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”

He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.

“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.

Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.

“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.

“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”

“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.

He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.

“I can say the same for your pants.”

Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.

“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.

You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.

Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”

You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”

He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”

You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”

He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.

He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.

“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”

You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head.

Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.

With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice.

Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.

– – –

The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.

You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.

After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.

“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.

He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”

“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”

Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.

“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”

You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”

He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”

Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”

Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.

He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.

You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.

Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.

“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.

“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.

– – –

Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.

Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.

“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”

“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”

Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.

You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?

He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted?

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.

After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.

You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time.

Obviously, you regretted your decision.

“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.

Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”

You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”

He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”

“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.

Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.

“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”

You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”

He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”

Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.

– – –

Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.

“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.

You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass.

“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”

You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”

“For how long?”

You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.”

Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”

“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”

He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”

Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.

“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.

He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”

A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.

“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”

“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.

Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.”

Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor.

He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”

The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”

Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”

Darling.

It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.

You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.

“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.

Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.

“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”

But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.

“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”

– – –

In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.

Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.

He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.

He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.

Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.

Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.

Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.

“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.

You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.

“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.

He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure.

You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.

As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.

You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.

Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.

As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.

Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them.

“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”

You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.

“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.

He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock.

Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.

Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.

– – –

Then, it was morning.

The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.

Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.

You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.

“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.

He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw.

“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”

You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”

Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.

“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”

Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing.

Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine fic

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mmelionsblog · 6 months

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Magical [Sam Golbach x Reader]

SIMILIAR to the marriage one shot with Mike, but a bit different.

It was finally time for the first dance of the wedding, starring you and your newly beloved husband Sam. He guided you to the center of the dance floor, his hands gently touching your waist, his fingers fitting perfect on your body. You wrap your arms around his neck, and Magical by Ed Sheeran started to play. “You picked the song?” You giggled out, a smile spreads widely on your face.

He nodded, “Ed Sheeran’s songs scream for weddings, I don’t know it’s just the vibe. Plus, this song is exactly how I feel about you if you listen to the lyrics closely.” He hums the lyrics, his eyes scattering your face. Your cheeks flush, even after all these years he still somehow knows how to make you blush without even trying.

You got comfortable, and by comfortable you placed your head on his chest, your arm resting on the other side as the two of you swayed together. You saw the camera that your cousin was recording on in the corner of the dance floor, waving to it and mouthing a ‘hi’. Your cousin laughed.

“I love you,” you spoke. Sam smiled brightly. “I love you too,” he kissed the top of your forehead. In all of your life time, you never thought you’d get married to someone at all.

You grew up alone, never having the homecoming date, prom date, never having experienced heart break through high school or college, never being the friend that fell in love with any guy they met.

You were the other friend, the friend that stayed in, insecure, never believing a guy would fall for you and who you were deep inside. You knew it would never have happened if your friend, Tara, begged you annoyingly enough to come to the party Sam and Colby created for their five million subscribers award. That was until one night, you met the love of your life five years ago.

The two of you instantly hit it off, talking nonstop after the party. Calling each other, since you lived in Washington due to your job. After a year of talking and being close friends, Sam was the one to make the move to ask you out on a date.

After that said date, more and more dates came when the two of you had free time. Then, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. You quit your job, moved to L.A to live with him and Colby in their apartment. You’ve never felt so in love with someone before, so you didn’t care if you were doing anything wrong at the time.

Your song came on, and you could hear chuckles and some laughter from your side of the room. Everyone knew you were obsessed with one artist and one artist only ever since you were young, which was Hozier. You’ve always dreamt of using one of his songs in your wedding when it came to he, and this dream was finally happening.

The first beats of work song appeared, and Sam looked down at you. “I should’ve known,” he giggled quietly. “You’ve been singing this one a lot recently. I’ve noticed,” he kissed your nose, “I don’t play him that much…” you rolled out the ‘that’, while Sam gave you a ‘uhuh’ playful look. His lips locked in with yours, swaying slower to the beat. “That’s when my baby found me,” Sam sung softly, and your eyes closed.

You loved Hozier, you do, but when Sam sings his songs it’s like next level type of shit. He always puts you to sleep when he sings whenever you’d have trouble.

“I love you,” you spoke. Sam’s eyes sparkled, “I love you too.”

#sam and colby #sam golbach x you #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach #sam golbach x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock #Spotify

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madaqueue · 2 months

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Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 7

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, fluff, angst. alcohol consumption, jealousy, kissing (x megumi). 18+, MDNI

word count: 1.8k

a/n: guys i'm still trying to write the last chapter for this series rn bc i got hit with mad writers block but aaAAH she's comin along

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You’re back in Yuji’s dorm building, but this time your back faces the familiar room. He had just waved goodbye, whispering “Go get ‘em, tiger,” as he shot fake finger guns at you before shutting the door to his room. Now it was just you alone in the hallway, facing the construction paper cutout of “Megumi” that was taped to the door in front of you. You hesitantly raise your fist out before knocking.

A soft voice from inside yells out, “One second!” through the door before it swings open. In front of you stands the dark-haired boy, once again wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. “Hey, it’s good to see you,” he says sweetly as his eyes meet yours. “You ready to go?”

“Yep!” you chirp. The warm scent of his cologne hits your nose as he steps next to you. You suddenly feel nervous, not sure if it’s because of the man standing to your side or the one who you just left. You push the feeling down as you walk to the cafe.

–

The space is warm, the hum of espresso makers and piano music filling your ears. The walls are adorned in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, warm light casting over everything from the chandelier above.

With a mug in each hand, Megumi leads you to a table in the middle of the cafe. He sets one down in front of you with your latte and his, with plain black coffee, next to him.

“This place is beautiful,” you note, eyes glancing around the room taking it all in. “How did you find it?”

“One of my friends, Maki, suggested I try it,” he responds, taking a sip from his coffee. “She said it fit my ‘vibe’ or something,” he chuckles. “So, what do you have to study while we’re here?”

“I have a bit of bio to work on, but honestly, I’m just here for the company,” you try to say as nonchalantly as possible as you pull your laptop out of your backpack and set it on the table in front of you. You catch Megumi smiling out of the corner of your eye.

“Speaking of company,” he begins as he pulls a notebook out of his bag, “how do you and Yuji know each other?”

There it is. You were waiting for this question on the way over, but Megumi seemed to avoid the topic entirely. You knew he saw you with Yuji, and now you have to come clean. But what, exactly, is there to come clean about?

“We’re childhood friends,” you state. It’s not technically a lie, but it certainly doesn’t explain the complicated relationship you’ve developed with him over the past few weeks.

“Mhm,” Megumi hums quizzically. You could tell he wants to ask more, yet he doesn’t pry.

Silence falls between the two of you for a moment, and something about it makes you feel comfortable sharing more. “We met when we were kids, and as we grew up we were inseparable. He’s…” you pause, thinking about the weight of the words you’re about to say, “my best friend.” You sigh.

“But…?” Megumi guides, a small grin forming on one side of his mouth.

“But now it’s…weird,” you follow.

“Well, Yuji’s a pretty weird guy, and I’ve only known him a semester,” he agrees with a chuckle.

Something about Megumi puts you at ease. You feel comfortable sharing things with him you never thought you’d say out loud, which is why you continue explaining. “Yuji and I kissed,” you blurt out. “But now he has feelings for someone else, and I don’t know how I feel about him, and everything’s just messed up.” You put your head into your hands.

Megumi pauses for a moment, trying to think of what to say. “Oof,” is all he gets out.

“‘Oof’ indeed,” you chuckle through your palms. Suddenly, you lift your head up to meet eyes with the boy across from you. “Hey, please don’t tell Yuji I said any of that?” you plead, realizing the sensitive nature of what you just shared with him.

“My lips are sealed,” he responds through a smile, “as long as you get the next round of coffees.”

“Deal,” you agree, a grin spreading across your face.

This feels…easy. Talking to Megumi feels like how you and Yuji used to be, before all this emotional gunk got in the way.

The conversation flows smoothly as the two of you work through all of your studying for the next week, spending nearly the entire day in the warm cafe. By the time you leave, the sun has set and the sky is orange and purple as dusk settles over campus. Megumi asks to walk you home and you agree, thanking him for the kind gesture.

When you get back to your dorm, the caffeine from the coffees you were chugging all day finally wears off as you crash into your bed, the smell of detergent still lingering on your freshly-washed comforter as you settle under it.

–

The next week breezes by, especially since you finished all of your work at the cafe with Megumi over the weekend. You start looking forward to your biology class because you know it means you’ll get to see him. For a few hours each week, you get to watch his hands as he sketches page after page, sometimes of animals, sometimes of buildings, sometimes of you. Whenever you’re included in his drawings, he tears the page out and gives it to you without a second thought.

The two of you also started spending more time together outside of class trying out new cafes, especially after you found out Megumi was very particular about his coffee.

He sticks his nose up as he tries to hide the disgust on his face. “Yuck,” he mutters as he swallows, setting the mug down.

“No good?” you ask, putting your hand over your mouth as you try to hide your giggle. He just shakes his head in response. “Well my latte is delicious,” you respond with a smirk as you take a sip.

“How can you even say that?” he frowns. “That stuff is all sweetener, and you know it.”

“Mmm maybe, but I like things a little sweet,” you hum. You reach your hands across the table to pinch his cheeks, molding his frown into a forced smile. “And I bet you’d like it too, if you gave it a try.” He swats your hands away with a chuckle.

Things are…easy. Yet, for some stupid reason, you still find yourself thinking of Yuji, especially during these lull periods where you let your thoughts get quiet. It’s not like he’s gone, or even that he hasn’t texted you (because he certainly has, mostly pictures of his gross meals like fried rice with jam or a boxed mac n cheese he made using vanilla coffee creamer). It’s more that you are struggling to figure out what to say to him. How are you supposed to explain whatever these feelings are to someone you aren’t even dating that you know has feelings for someone else?

–

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Megumi asks. You’re both packing up your stuff after your Friday biology class. “I got invited to this off-campus party and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me?” he turns to face you. You don’t sense any hint of nervousness in his voice, as if asking was second nature. He had really grown comfortable around you.

“I’d love to,” you respond with a smile. “Meet at my place at 8:00?”

“Sounds perfect,” he grins as you both turn to walk out of the lecture hall.

–

Walking into a party with Megumi is definitely a new experience. For one, you were never a huge party-goer, so the loud music and conversations are an adjustment. Second, this is the first time you and Megumi have gone somewhere together. Sure you had studied plenty of times, but this feels like something else.

Truthfully, you don’t know what you and Megumi are to each other. Your relationship feels comfortable, like you’ve been friends for years, but sometimes you say something and you swear you catch him blushing.

It doesn’t matter, you try to mentally pep-talk yourself, tonight I’m just here to have fun.

The two of you step through the front door as the smell of stale beer hits your nose and the bass from the music causes your chest to vibrate. You tug on the bottom of your black dress as you gaze down at the tennis shoes you paired it with, hoping you don’t look too out of place. Looking up, you scan across the room for a familiar face but find none; luckily, Megumi waves at his friends and grabs your hand, guiding you to the middle of the dance floor.

You dance together for a while before one of his friends, who he introduces as Toge, comes back and hands you both full cups. The new white-haired boy pulls down the top of what looks to be a custom-made hoodie before chugging his drink. Megumi looks at you and knocks the top of his glass against yours before he moves it up to his lips. You follow his lead, taking in gulps of what tastes like the cheapest beer you’ve ever had. Both of you finish your drinks at the same time, the liquid sending shivers down your body as you smile up at Megumi.

The night continues smoothly, Toge coming back with drinks every so often as you let the music course through you while moving your body to the pounding rhythms. You slowly get to meet Megumi’s friends as you shout your introductions over the blasting noise around you. You are having…fun? You never saw yourself enjoying parties, but here you are, getting the college experience.

Suddenly, Megumi taps your shoulder. You turn to look up at him, but his eyes are focused on something behind you. Spinning around on your toes, you see why he got your attention: Yuji.

He’s standing on the other side of the crowded dance floor, one arm leaning against the wall. And below his arm, is a girl.

She has shoulder length brown hair and is wearing a dark blue dress that seems like it was made for her. This has to be her, you think. Dammit, did she have to be gorgeous, too?

For a moment, all you can do is stare, your eyes going back and forth between the two of them. You watch as Yuji says something and she shoves him in the chest, a laugh never leaving her lips. Your eyes start to water as you try to blink the tears away. No, no, no, this isn’t happening. You’re supposed to be having fun. This isn’t fun. Megumi sees your body tense and he places a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention back.

Suddenly, Yuji’s eyes meet yours from across the room. Your stomach drops, and you’re not sure if it’s the butterflies or the jealousy bubbling up inside of you. Before you can even think, you turn to face Megumi, hoping Yuji is still watching. You move your arms around his neck as you lean up to kiss him.

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mamayan · 7 months

Note

AAA! TIMES ALMOST OUT FOR THE EVENT!! before the event closes may I request 2,24,30,71,and 83 with Choso JJK? I was thinking like he and reader were enemies but he passed away recently. Reader was working at the morgue and had to work on his body, but what she didn't know is that he turned into a vampire? Thank youuu

Bang! … No bullet was shot—

Choso

“Keep crying baby, maybe someone will save you?” || Carnivore || Graveyard Shift || Stalker

tw: NSFW • Dubcon • Aphrodisiac Usage • Vampire AU • Fem! Reader • Kidnapping

A/N: Since he’s a blood manipulation user, I feel him being a vampire is both sexy and appropriate. I’m running with it—

wc: 1446

Blood banks operate under normal hours, unless during emergencies where they open for all hours of the night and day to fill quota during disasters.

You sat behind your desk, scrolling mindlessly and incredibly bored during such a time. A small town like this wasn’t a hub for disaster donations, only the usuals this morning, but you were scheduled for the night shift, which was a full twelve into the morning. Your bleary eyes blinked at the clock, reading at two in the morning as you groaned into the silent building. It was only you here in this small clinic tonight, and no one would be in until eight to relieve you. You wouldn’t see a soul until then, no doubt about it.

You glanced back at your phone, intending to pass the time until you fell asleep at the desk or found some sort of entertainment to fill the time.

The ring of the bell on the door nearly caused you a heart attack, the deafening silence now shattered like an illusion as you shoot up from your spot to see a man enter.

He’s tall.

Dark hair pulled up into two spiky puffs, a few strands falling into a tired albeit handsome face. His lips are flat, expression bored as he stuffs his hands into his loose pant pockets, clothing dark to match his grunge vibe you assumed he was going for.

“Hello, are you here to donate?” Your voice sounds higher in pitch than usual, but your customer service tone seems ingrained at this point.

He doesn’t answer, just turns to face you more fully but his eyes are wandering around the empty building.

“Just you?” Unease settles into your gut, but you push the paranoia away as you answer.

“Yeah, just me tonight, but I can have you out of here in less than a half hour if you’ve donated before—,” you pause when your eyes meet, the purple irises striking enough to make you speechless. He holds your gaze now as he approaches, eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s analyzing you deeper now.

You startle awake from whatever trance you seemed to have been under when he’s directly in front of the counter now, his height and figure more imposing so close up. You step back on instinct, but it makes his lip quirk up into a smirk, amusement dancing in his gaze.

“I just planned to dine and dash tonight but…” his speech is low and languid, “it’s been so long since I’ve had something warm to drink.”

You didn’t get it. Brows furrowing to show your confusion as you tilt your head in question, briefly wondering if he really thought this place a cafe or something.

“We don’t serve food sir, this is a blood bank—ah?” You hardly have time to process his inhumanly quick movement, already pressed to the floor behind the counter with the stranger straddling you.

It hasn’t even hurt, you didn’t even feel the impact, and it left you dazed.

“Wha-?”

“You smell delicious.” You blank as he flashes abnormally long and sharp canines, almost like fangs you register late. “I was wondering if it was just the location, but no, it’s you who got me all riled up. You smell like dessert.” You cry out when he grips your jaw and pushes you flat, tilting your head up to expose your neck. Your hands are useless, unable to break his hold or push him away. You felt like you were fighting a brick wall as you huff in frustration, efforts as ferocious as a kitten it seemed.

“Cute,” his chuckle is breathy against your sensitive skin, lips soft as they trace and kiss just over your pulse point.

“Stop! I’ll call the police! I-I’ll scream!” You realize struggling is futile, resorting to threats and praying they intimidate him.

“This place is a dump and the least safe area in town, even if you scream no one will hear or come. I doubt even if you called the police they’d respond in time either…” your blood goes cold at the surety in his tone, as if he had first hand experience and truly does know.

“P-please don’t hurt me…” it’s a pathetic last attempt, trying to appeal to some sort of softer spot this dangerous stranger might hold.

Choso feels you lightly trembling in his hold, your blood and adrenaline calling to a carnal part of him that screams to drain and kill you. There’s another part of him though, a bit more insistent than the need to drink you dry, straining within the confines of his pants.

His tongue licks a stripe over your pulse, voice deeper as he strains to hold himself back. “M’not gonna hurt you, this’ll feel very good…” you aren’t given time to think longer on what that truly means before his fangs sink into your neck.

You go to shout but nothing comes out, only a strange numbness overtaking the initial sting. His weight is heavy, but an odd euphoria begins to spread and you gasp beneath him. Something tingles and shoots down your body until your underwear begins to fill with slick. “Ah~!” instead of a scream only a broken moan leaves you now, as you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure your mind clouds. You aren’t pushing him away now, fingers curling into his jacket and tugging him closer as he groans against you, now pressing his hardness against your thigh and grinding.

You tasted like a dream, his own mind now fighting not to finish and take all of you. It’s your little mewls which draw him away, so breathy and filled with desperation.

“Please, oh God—please I need—!” He moans as you spread your legs to grind against him, his hands quick to sink into the waistband of your pants and underwear and tear them off of you. You looked comical, face disoriented and surprised while your lower half was completely bare. Choso moves swiftly, yanking his own pants down just enough to free his hard cock, panting just as desperately as you, his lips tinted red as his lustful dark gaze drinks you in.

“I’m not patient enough to prep you right now,” he murmurs soothingly as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance, “Be good for me this time, okay?” Then he’s pushing in, face blissful as he nearly whines at how tightly you grip him inside of you. You’re too far gone from his venom, features languid as your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you. “S’full—!” Your squeal of delight has him smiling, leaning over you as he bottoms out to lick and seal the puncture wounds on your throat closed. When he pulled away, his eyes widened at the tears rolling down your cheeks, lips parted as you deliriously babbled nonsense. “Fuck,” he mutters roughly, one hand finding your hip while the other worked to lift your top and expose your chest, his hips driving deep as you clench and grind back onto him. “It-it feels so good—! Please, please, please—,” Choso isn’t cruel enough to deny you, all too happy to fuck you senseless like you beg for on your work floor. His grin is strained, cock already throbbing for release inside the gooey confines of your pussy, but from how wet and whiny you are he guesses you aren’t far from your own release too. “H-help me, I can’t—please, I-I’m going crazy!” You’re completely consumed, it seems his venom was more potent on you than he’d thought it’d be, but it only aroused him more as he grunts and plasters his body against yours. ““Keep crying baby, maybe someone will save you?” He’s teasing as he licks the tears falling down your cheeks, moaning low and deep as you take the opportunity to dig your fingers into his hair. The strands come loose, but his hips don’t stop their conquest of your sweet cunt as you scream and come apart around him.

“Fuck, m’taking you home aren’t I?” He’s becoming delirious too as his pace increases, one hand having to help hold your leg in place as you go limp. “Look at you,” he coos, eyes clouding with lust as grits his teeth and hisses as he fills you, hips stuttering to a stop as he presses as close as possible against you.

You aren’t able to stay conscious, eyes closing tiredly as sleep drags you under due to exhaustion and blood loss. Choso doesn’t mind as he cleans you both up, dressing you against and easily pulling you up into his arms.

It’s only proper to take leftovers home after all, to finish later.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

#500 event #Choso #Choso x reader #choso x fem!reader #Choso smut #Choso x reader smut #Choso x fem!reader smut #jjk Choso #jjk Choso smut #jjk smut

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